#the way you can always keep corey as corey. no matter which situation you drop him into. you get him.
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ahhh the au i didn't know i need it until i saw your vision !! there is sooo much to unpack here, it has everything; ronald redemption arc, the lasting effects of past abuse, the small acts of rebellion that build a new life, earnest romance and being so horny it makes him a little bit stupid heehee
and also just this au in itself, giving corey a second chance, him ending up slap bang in the middle of the scene and learning as he goes, finding out he's not unlikable the way he thought he was, but that he can actually belong somewhere and live a life that he enjoys.
He liked Ronald well enough... But it was certainly news to him that Ronald might think of him as a son.
i love your interpretation of ronald !! i feel like his and corey's relationship is amicable but not particularly close ("he married my mom and lives in our house but he doesn't snitch on me for smoking at work"). corey internalises a lot of that without realising -- a replacement father figure who doesn't really care about him, learning from that that he's going to have to save himself and work his own way out. when the accident completely stalls corey's life, and he's no longer making the effort himself, which literally brings everything to a halt, it sort of highlights how much he had been doing. maybe that's what makes ronald realise if he can just do something, it can put corey back on his own, selfmade track at least, even if not in the direction he'd been expecting pre-accident. i think ronald actually making that choice not only helps corey (in that he can leave, but also restores just a little bit of lost faith) but also resolves a part of ronald that maybe knows he should of done more, sooner?
“You’re really for real?” He whispered.
this feels like a coreyism but i can't put my finger on why (repetition again? the unusual phrasing?). the way he whispers it -- i can absolutely hear his voice -- it feels like he really got to a point where he just didn't trust that there was anyway to get out of the pit he was in.
another month after that for him to be emotionally ready too. But Halloween was coming, and he’d be damned if he spent another Halloween in fucking Haddonfield.
the way he could leave but there's still a part of him that's holding on. how things at home are mind-numbingly boring or infuriatingly controlled, but he's safe and "protected" and there's something to fall back on. the outside world is scary and new and he'd be on his own (truly on his own). it's a risk, but it's a risk worth taking because if he doesn't do it now he never will.
i love how you write his apprehension, the way it lingers in all of his actions, how it unpins a lot of what he does but he still does things anyway because he knows there's a better life out there. knows it as well as he knows his own name.
a permanent reminder that his life is his, not hers.
yes, yes, yes !! give that boy some autonomy !! i love this, it really is the small things that make all the difference. i think about it a lot but i think corey really struggles with feeling in control, so i totally agree that physical reminders end up being really important to him (especially when it's on his body).
You like the way he struggles to tell when you’re joking... how he has his own offbeat sense of humor that you’re slowly learning
my favourite corey trait, how he is doesn't always catch jokes (he's just like me fr lol) but is actually really sharp with his own humour.
the way he casually brings up complicated, niche knowledge without ever sounding condescending.
he's so clever 💗 you totally get him though, it's a certain brand of cleverness where he's clever for the joy of it, for how it feels to know things and have that as a skill he can depend on. he values knowing things and learning and stimulating his brain, but he's never, ever condescending or elitist about it. i would literally listen to him talk about something he's knowledgeable on all day and not get bored lol
he enforces the rule against crowd killing with an iron fist
literally the way i would feel so safe knowing corey is around. i've said before but i totally think people underestimate him because he's pretty mild mannered most of the time but people learn veryyy quickly not to push his rules because he is not fucking about.
Somehow your thighs sticking together in the humid air feels much more intimate than any of that.
sharing space in such a casual, familiar way is the peak of intamacy. just being comfortable and eating pizza together. who could ever say romance is dead?
He steps into the shower with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. His modesty is adorable. On his end he’s not sure which would be worse, shrinkage from the cold air, or chub before anything has even happened.
he's such a sweetheart. i think we all know he has nothing to be ashamed of though 🫣 but at the same time his self conscious streak kind of drives me wild because it's like you are the hottest man i've ever laid eyes on, how can you not know that ?? 😂🥰 but then also shrinkage seems like such a mundane thing for him to worry about, when we're used to him fight for his life through the trauma trenches most of the time - i don't want him to worry, but worrying over normal things really highlights the fact he's just some dude in his 20s trying to get laid lol (and you strike that balance for him so well, so consistently !!)
(but also, something something, he has a really weird sense of his own boundaries and privacy, compares with how he perceives boundaries and privacy for other people. are so skewed. i feel like part of his modesty is to protect reader's boundaries more than his own in a way - he's used to putting up with things he doesn't like but because there was never any communication about that, he's constantly concerned about crossing other invisible boundaries that he assumes must be there)
“Curation makes the collection.”
curation makes the collection !! corey learning that he does, in fact, have personal taste that says something about him 💗 wait - corey figuring things out about himself through looking at his tattoos, spotting the common themes and ideas behind them.
The last traces of Corey’s rough mood from earlier in the night flow down the drain with the soapy water. All he’s thinking about is you.
it's not quite sulky corey, but his bad mood being lifted by reader and actually realising that he can be content 🥰 but also corey who has so many thoughts in his head that he uses affection to override all of that and clear his mind (head empty; no thoughts, only sex) lol
his boner resting on your belly is making you want him too badly
i am anna's hopeless lack of dignity. idk why but this got me like deep down lol your wording is so simple but there's something so vulnerable about it. he can't be subtle, it's so obvious what reader does to him, a giant arrow pointing to the fact that he wants reader just as bad as she wants him.
He’s desperate for more, anything more, whatever you’ll give him.
you know corey so well 😈💗 corey is a take-what-he-can-get guy, through and through. i love this line so much though, i feel like it says so much outside of sex too, like he's really so used to thinking no one wants him, that he clings to the smallest things in case he never gets anything else. but he also gives everything as long as you're willing to let him give.
You feel so good around him, he’s scared he won’t last five seconds if he moves the way he wants to
okay i am so deeply madly obsessed with this whole smut scene. another "just some guy" moment, but baby don't even worry about it, we can just go again lol 😈😂
you balance the dom/sub aspect so well !! -- not overplayed but impossible to miss. it feels like we're encapsulated in this litttle bubble where there's nothing else outside of what is happening. it feels hushed and loud, gentle and messy, familiar and intense, all at the same time. and it's so corey !! the noises he makes, the point he has to stop (or slow down, at least), how he's so willing and reluctant at the same time.
Spend the Night
post-accident!alt!Corey Cunningham x alt!fem!Reader It's been a while since Corey left Haddonfield. He's making a new life in a new town, with a job as a bouncer at a bar that puts on punk and metal shows, living with Craigslist roommates. His past still haunts him, but maybe you can help him forget about it for a couple of hours. contents - smut (18+ MDNI), angst, mentions of past abuse, not-quite-friends to lovers, casual sex, handjob, PiV, subby Corey and slightly domme Reader 5,176 words requested by @ethanhoewke 💕 inspired by these tweets she sent me, and this post I made a couple months back. see my drawing of bouncer!Corey here. @rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @multifandom--mess @toxicanonymity @cordelium @hersweetrevenge
Corey leans against the stool in the doorway of the bar, half sitting, half standing, a far away look on his face. When he’d clocked in, the bartenders had been watching some ridiculous action movie with a title like Shoot Bastard or something on mute on the TV above the bar. Shoot Bastard-esque movies remind Corey of Ronald, and thinking of Ron inevitably leads to thinking about Momma. Corey knows he shouldn’t give a shit what happened after he left – how Momma had handled it, how harshly she punished Ron, if she cried, if she misses him – but any little thing can send him down that rabbit hole. Even after all this time, all it takes is 10 seconds of straight to DVD bullshit out of the corner of his eye.
One day, coming up on two years ago now, Ron called Corey into his office. Corey assumed he was in trouble. Earlier in the week he’d had a fight with Joan just as he was about to leave for work. He was so upset when he first got to the garage that he accidentally let all the oil out of a car that had already been given a full oil change. But that wasn’t what Ron wanted to talk about.
“You gotta leave, kid,” he began. “You gotta get out of here. I know I’m not your dad, but I care about you like you’re my son, and I can’t sit around and watch what she does to you, what everybody does to you, anymore. You’re a good kid. You deserve a normal life.”
“Okay…” Corey said, not sure what to make of the declaration. He liked Ronald well enough, was thankful for the job and the distraction for Momma that Ron provided. But it was certainly news to him that Ronald might think of him as a son.
Ronald, for his part, wasn’t exactly lying. He did hate the way most people treated Corey, and he did feel a familial fondness for the quiet teenage boy who had grown into a fine young man in front of him over the past nine years. He was, however, having a moment. He was about to unveil his master plan to get Corey out of Haddonfield, for good. Ever since his divorce from his first wife, he’d felt small and ineffectual, winding up with a second wife who treated him like shit, largely because it’s what he felt he deserved. Doing this was as much about saving himself as saving Corey.
“I know your mother has access to your bank account,” Ron said, laying out the plan he’d worked so hard to devise. “So I want you to go to a different bank and open a new account there. I’m gonna start paying you twice. We’ll keep your direct deposit where she expects it to be. You use that check the way you always do, buy your snacks, put some in savings, don’t do anything that would make her suspicious. But I’m gonna give you a second check. Put that one in your new account, save the whole thing. We’ll do that for a while, until you have enough money to disappear.”
“Is that legal?” Corey asked.
“Christ, kid. Do you even wanna leave?”
“Yeah, sorry, I uh… I just don’t want any more legal trouble. For any of us.”
Ron deflated, his moment punctured by feelings of sadness for his pathetic step-son, and guilt for not doing more sooner.
“Don’t worry,” he assured Corey. “It’s all above board. I’m giving everybody raises cause the shop’s been doing so well. You’re just gettin’ the biggest one.”
Corey stood there dumbfounded for a moment. Ronald didn’t exactly obey Momma, but he was usually very careful about the ways he defied her. Helping Corey escape would probably end their marriage if she ever found out. While Corey had never understood what Ronald saw in Momma (or what Momma saw in Ron), he struggled to believe Ronald would jeopardize his relationship with her that way.
“You’re really for real?” He whispered.
“I’m really for real. Now, don’t tell me when you’re leaving or where you plan on going. Just buy a bus ticket when you feel like you have enough money and get out of here. And when you go, leave the card for the bank account she watches. We both know if she can see where you are, she might follow you.”
It took Corey three months of getting two paychecks to feel like he was financially ready to leave town, and another month after that for him to be emotionally ready too. But Halloween was coming, and he’d be damned if he spent another Halloween in fucking Haddonfield. So one chilly October morning he convinced Momma to leave for her errands before he left for work, promising he was right behind her, since he knew she hated it when he was home alone. Then he shoved as much of his wardrobe as he could fit into his backpack. He put his phone and the debit card Momma monitored on his dresser, emptied both of his savings accounts, and boarded a Greyhound bus headed west.
Corey looks down at his freckled thighs below the tattered hem of his cut-off shorts, his bare legs decorated with tattoos under wispy red hair. He doesn’t have to wonder how Momma would feel about those. She made it very clear that in her opinion tattoos were only for sailors and convicts (Which had his father been? Corey wondered but never asked). He’d always thought they were cool, always wanted to have as many as he could find space for. He got his first as soon as he could after he got away. It grounds him a little to see them whenever he looks down, a permanent reminder that his life is his, not hers.
A familiar voice brings him out of his thoughts.
“Helloooo. Earth to Corey.” It’s you, standing in front of him with a folded five dollar bill between your fingers and a concerned look on your face. “You good?” You ask him.
“Yeah, sorry,” he says as he puts your money in the cash box. He stamps the back of your hand and waits for you to head inside, but you don’t.
“So, I had to park like, super far away. Would you mind walking me to my car after the show?” It’s not something you would ask just any bouncer at just any bar, but Corey is your favorite bouncer at your favorite bar. You’ve had a little crush on him for ages, dying to get even 10 minutes alone with him. If he won’t make the move, it’s time you did.
“Oh, uh, sure. Of course.”
“You’re the best,” you say, reaching out to squeeze his arm. Then you go through the door and into the bar.
You spend the whole show distracted, thinking more about Corey than about the musicians playing their hearts out on stage. You remember the first night he worked the door. You could tell he was new from a distance, which intrigued you, and as his features came into focus as you drew nearer, you only became more interested. The new guy was a hottie. It had been winter then, so his tattoos were hidden from you, and his hair was a rich, warm brown. The weather warmed and Corey's clothes got less bulky, the hems on the sleeves of his shirts and the legs of his pants steadily rising with the temperatures, giving you a delicious view of his strong limbs. The seasons have progressed, and his hair has gotten longer, full of coppery strands brought out by the sun. It’s like every time you see him he’s better looking than the last. Tonight is no exception.
But his looks aren’t the only thing you like about Corey. When you go outside during changeover on nights he works the door, you shoot the shit with him. You like how his voice exists in the space between raspy and smooth, an accent you can’t quite place peeking through on certain words. You like the way he struggles to tell when you’re joking, but he’s always a good sport about the miscommunication, and how he has his own offbeat sense of humor that you’re slowly learning to watch for. You like his crooked smile, and the way he casually brings up complicated, niche knowledge without ever sounding condescending.
The nights Corey works inside, you feel extra safe knowing he’s watching over you. Sometimes he appears at your side with a plastic cup of water, yelling “Stay hydrated!” in your ear over the music. He checks on you when you fall in the pit, and he enforces the rule against crowd killing with an iron fist, dragging dudes who think it’s cool to windmill out to the sidewalk by their shirt collars. If another showgoer is bothering you, all you have to do is meet Corey’s eyes and you know he’ll take care of the problem.
You didn’t park so far away with the intention of getting him to walk you there, but after circling the block three times and seeing no nearby spots, you had no choice. You weren’t particularly scared to walk the distance, but you’d seen Corey as you drove past, Chicago Bears cap backwards over his gorgeous hair, pack of cigs tucked into the rolled up sleeve of his t-shirt, biceps bulging from the way his arms were crossed, and a lightbulb clicked on in your head. You practically sprinted to the door from your parking spot.
Outside on his stool, Corey’s still in a weird mood. He’s had his eye on you for months, and he’s pretty sure you’re interested in him too. Even so, he’s petrified to make a move. He favors you over the other patrons whenever you’re there, and he knows his coworkers notice, but it’s the only thing he can think to do to get closer to you. And his insecurities around dating just bring him right back to Momma. She fucking did this to him. Her refusal to let him have any normal interactions as a kid meant he still couldn’t as a grown-ass man. It’s like getting away from her only made her more present in his life.
He’s trying to remember what his therapist said about negative thoughts moving through without getting stuck. Thinking them and feeling them and then just letting them drift away. They can come over to hang out, but they can't spend the night. Corey wants to be someone you would let spend the night, and he thinks he could be, if he could just fucking relax for 30 goddamn seconds.
And it isn’t helping that you haven’t come outside once tonight. The reason is that you’re just as anxious as you are excited, thinking of ways to angle the walk to your car into something more, just like he is. But he doesn’t know that. So he sulks on his stool and hopes the thoughts will be done passing through before the last band plays their last song.
When the closing act does finish up, you’re the first person out the door, appearing by his side before the reverb of the final notes even stops echoing.
“Hey,” Corey says, “I usually have to stay for like, 15 minutes after the show ends, then I can walk you to your car.” Add something to let her know you want to hang out, he thinks, but he doesn’t say anything else.
“Okay, no problem,” you say.
You stand off to the side and chat with friends until his shift is over. He takes the cashbox and the stool inside, and then he’s keeping pace with you down a quiet side street towards your car. A light breeze cools the sweat on your neck from dancing and you shiver. Corey comes just a little closer, knowing he runs hot, hoping he can subtly warm you with his radiant heat without you noticing. He’s not slick at all, but it’s endearing. You drift nearer to him too, so close you would barely need to reach out to lace your fingers with his.
“So. Where do you park?” You ask. “I can drive you to your car, since you walked me.”
“Oh, I walk to work. I don’t live far.”
“Oh, okay. I can drive you home, then.” You wait a beat to see if he’ll ask to hang out. You can sense that he wants to, but as you turn the corner and your little sedan comes into view, you decide it’s up to you. “Actually, I’m really hungry. Why don’t we go get something to eat?”
“Yeah?” Corey smiles. “I’m starving.”
You take Corey to a little shack of a New York style pizza place, where you eat giant slices on a rickety bench leaned against the side of the building. A window AC unit drips onto one half of the seat, so you sit with your bodies pressed together.
You and Corey have had a lot of physical contact since you met. He’s stamped the back of your hand a hundred times. He’s hooked his elbows under your armpits to hoist you off the floor, caught you over his brawny shoulder when you run out of crowd to surf, gently cleaned and stuck a bandaid over a scrape from the studs on someone else’s jacket. Somehow your thighs sticking together in the humid air feels much more intimate than any of that.
The proximity makes Corey’s heart pound in his throat. This close to you he can see the fine glitter you dusted over your skin before you left the house, and the little half-open holes dotting your face from piercings you’ve retired. He does his best to hold his voice steady and not think about the conniption Momma would have if she could see him with a painted harlot practically sitting in his lap. The negative thoughts can’t spend the night, he reminds himself. But he still wants to.
“It’s getting late,” he says when you’ve been sitting there talking and holding onto your grease-stained paper plates for what feels like hours. “Are you… Um. Do you need to get up early? Tomorrow?”
“No, I have a free day tomorrow. No plans, no responsibilities. I’ll probably be horizontal all day,” you say, laughing. You phrased it that way on purpose and you can see it working as Corey swallows hard and tries not to get distracted by the mental image of you lounging around in a tank top and panties.
“I’m free tomorrow too, and I’m not tired. We could hang out more, somewhere else?”
“I’d love to. Do you have somewhere in mind? I think most places are probably closing right about now.”
“Oh, uh…” Corey responds lamely.
The obvious answer hangs between you for a moment. You wait, daring him to say it first. You’d been dying to spend 10 minutes alone with Corey, and taking the lead tonight has gotten you that and so much more. You could quit while you’re ahead, adopt an oh well, maybe next time attitude. Or you could finish what you started.
“If you want, we can –”
“What if we –”
You both try at the same time.
“No, you –”
“I’m sorry, you –”
Corey’s embarrassed, but you giggle, a sweet sound that immediately makes him feel better. He laughs with you. You point at yourself, then at him, then at yourself, an exaggerated look of questioning on your face. He laughs at that too, pointing emphatically at you.
“If you want,” you start again, “we can go back to my place?”
You live by yourself in a little studio. You unlock the door and reach inside to turn a lamp on, before swinging it wide and pulling Corey inside. He takes his hat off, his large hand fluffing out the dent in his hair, and looks around for somewhere to set it down. His first impression as his eyes wander is how similar to his own apartment yours is – how you’ve had to work around the eccentricities of the building, how so much of your furniture would be instantly recognizable to anyone who's seen a recent IKEA catalog, how your mattress and box spring rest directly on the ground.
Momma (ugh there she is again) always kept the house spotless, with strict adherence to her ugly-but-well-defined aesthetic, taking meticulous care of the heavy wooden furniture she made Corey’s father buy before Corey was born. While living somewhere that hasn’t been fossilized for 25+ years is a much needed change of pace, he’s often embarrassed by the disheveled way he and his roommates keep things, cringing whenever they bring a friend or partner over for the first time. He was grateful that you suggested your place, but seeing the way your rooms reflect his destroys that insecurity and makes him feel right at home.
You’re still holding his wrist from pulling him inside, and you use it to guide him on a “tour” of your tiny space.
“This is the living room,” you say. Then you drag him one foot to the right. “And over here is the bedroom.” Corey laughs as you rotate him 90 degrees. “Enormous, state of the art chef’s kitchen.” You gesture toward the rickety old range and skinny half-sized dishwasher. You pull him down the hallway and into the bathroom. “And here we have the sauna and spa.”
“Wow, it’s just like a big mansion from a movie,” Corey says.
“They’ve actually filmed like, 100 movies here,” you joke. You reach behind you and turn the water on in the bathtub. “I’m gonna wash off real quick, you know how gross it can be in the pit.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” He turns to leave but you wrap your fingers around his wrist again.
“You don’t have to go. You can sit on the toilet and keep me company. Or you could join me.”
Corey opens and closes his mouth in surprise, shaking his head, floundering. “Join you?”
“If you want.” You shrug, pretending to be nonchalant.
“No. Yeah. I mean. It would be great to join you, I just wasn’t expecting that.”
You pull the pin to switch the water from the faucet to the showerhead. “Do you want to check the temperature?”
You switch places with him and he leans over the edge of the tub to stick his hand in the stream. He considers it for a second. While he’s distracted, you start taking your clothes off. You’re down to just your bralette and panties when he turns back around.
“I think that’s… good,” he says, the end of his sentence strangled by the sight of you in your underwear.
You smile sweetly as you peel the bralette off and raise it over your head. Corey gawks. “Are you gonna shower with your clothes on?” You ask.
“Oh,” Corey says with a nervous chuckle, setting his glasses and his hat on the vanity. He tries (and mostly fails) not to stare at your breasts as he pulls his shirt over his head. He loosens his laces to slip out of his boots, yanks off his socks, and undoes his belt. His face feels hot, which he knows means it’s red. He clears his throat and drops his shorts, then he turns around to give both of you some privacy for the last step.
When his shirt comes off, it takes your breath away. You knew Corey was a thick boy, and kinda heavily tattooed, but you were not at all prepared for the sight that met you as he started to strip. The true breadth of his shoulders, the size of his traps, the soft definition of his abs, and lines of his hips pointing right where you want to be, all accentuated by his tattoos, way more of them than you were expecting. If he could keep his eyes off your tits, he might’ve noticed you were staring at him too.
He steps into the shower with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. His modesty is adorable. On his end he’s not sure which would be worse, shrinkage from the cold air, or chub before anything has even happened. Either way it seems best to keep things obscured and fix his eyes on the drain as you step into the tub and close the curtain.
“You don’t have to hide. I’ve seen a dick before,” you say gently, as if reading his thoughts. “And you don’t have to avert your gaze.”
Corey looks up from the floor of the shower, meeting your eyes. You give him an encouraging smile and he chuckles, dropping his hands. “Okay.”
The temptation to look down immediately and see what he was hiding is strong, but you manage to keep your eyes on his face. You duck out of the shower stream to let him get wet, flipping the top of your body wash and squeezing some out. You gesture with the bottle to Corey and he offers you his hand, palm up. You dispense a little dollop for him.
“You have more tattoos than I thought you would. How long has it taken you to get so covered?”
“Like a year and a half?”
“Holy shit, Speed Racer!” You laugh, and he fucking giggles. He’s so cute you could die. Between your legs, your clit starts to throb.
“I uh, had to wait a long time to start getting tattooed. Kinda thought it would never happen. So I’m going a little crazy, trying to catch up.”
“That’s actually so cool. I’m glad you get to make that happen.” You finally let your eyes drift down, studying his tattoos through the bubbles on his skin, using your hand like a squeegee to get a better look at a few of them, and to have an excuse to touch him. They’re all American Traditional – faithful to the rules, truly old school, Sailor Jerry levels of traditional – but you can pick out the hands of several different artists. They’re all packed extremely solid, the colors vibrant and smooth under his freckled pink skin. You get a decent glimpse of his penis while you check out the tats on his stomach. It makes a very good first impression, although if he’s much of a grower you might be in for a challenge. “They’re beautiful, Corey. You have really good taste.”
He shakes his head, denying the compliment. “It’s all flash from a walk-in shop.”
“But you picked the shop.” You slide your soapy hands back up his torso to squeeze his shoulders. “And you picked the designs off the wall.” You squeeze again. “Curation makes the collection.”
“I guess I’ve never thought of it like that,” he says.
You stand there like that for a minute, your hands on his shoulders, looking into each other's eyes. You’ve never seen him in decent lighting before, and you’re learning that he has the longest eyelashes in the world, and his eyes are the color of good iced tea, but staring at him is only making you thirstier. You drape your wrists over his shoulders and rest your forearms on his chest. He puts his hands on your hips. You slowly drift closer to each other as if pulled by magnets. The last traces of Corey’s rough mood from earlier in the night flow down the drain with the soapy water. All he’s thinking about is you.
You can feel him starting to get hard, the tip of his cock poking you in the thigh, higher and higher until you lean away enough for it to reach its full height. You lean back in closer than you were before, wrapping your arms all the way around his neck. Finally he kisses you.
It’s soft at first, his plush lips feather light against yours. But his boner resting on your belly is making you want him too badly to abide by that for long. You press in harder, and he returns the pressure. You open your mouth more, and he follows your lead. Your tongues slide against each other and he sighs into your mouth. He still tastes just a little like the cigarette he smoked before you left the pizza place. His hands move from your hips, massaging your back and tentatively cupping your ass.
You kiss so long the water starts to get cold. You pull away from him reluctantly, despite your lips already getting chapped, and rinse the few remaining bubbles from your skin. You pull a giant blanket towel from the cabinet and wrap it around both of you. It’s extremely inefficient when it comes to actually drying you off, but you barely care, just using it as an excuse to keep your arms around him.
“That’s dry enough, right?” He asks. He’s so hard it borders on painful. He’s desperate for more, anything more, whatever you’ll give him.
“Yeah, that’s totally dry enough,” you agree, tossing the towel over the curtain rod.
You lead Corey back down the hallway, to the foot of the bed. You crawl up to the head of the bed, wiggling your ass in the air for him as you go. At the head of the bed you lay down and beckon for him. He scrambles to lay down next to you. His lips are so raw that they taste like blood, but he’s insatiable, needing to be kissing you. He pulls you into his arms so that you’re lying on your side, and you drape your top leg over his pelvis. His breathing gets heavier, and he’s dying to rock his hips so that his achy, leaking cock rubs against your impossibly soft thigh, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure if it’s okay, not realizing it’s the whole reason you put your leg where you put it.
If he won’t grind into your thigh, you’ll just have to grind your thigh into him instead. As his length drags across your skin it leaves a hot trail of precum. He shudders beneath you and makes a little strangled sound. It makes your pussy gush. You want to make him whimper, you want to hear him groan and whine and cry.
“Corey,” you purr against his stubbly cheek. “Why are you holding back?”
“I, uh – I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. Like, what you want me to do.”
“Should I just tell you what to do?”
“Please.”
You kiss him again before giving your first instruction. “Don’t try to be quiet. The walls in this place are really thick, so you don’t have to worry about anybody but me hearing you. But I want to hear everything.”
“Okay,” he whimpers.
You reach your hand down and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He inhales sharply. His satiny skin slides up and down as you gently stroke him. You told him not to be quiet, so he lets out a long moan, surprising himself with how desperate the sound is.
“Does that feel good?” You coo.
“Mhm,” Corey groans.
“Good. Don’t try to be still either, baby. If you want to thrust, thrust.”
And thrust he does, immediately, pressing his hips into your hand hard before dropping them back down to the bed. Your satisfied laugh is music to his ears. He thrusts into your hand again, and again. Faster and faster. You kiss him as you pump his cock in your hand, but he’s too busy whining and panting to kiss you back.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “Stop for a second. Please.”
You release him and bring your hand to your mouth, tasting the mess he made. The sight of you licking his precum off your palm nearly kills him. While he recovers, you pull a condom out of the drawer in your nightstand. You hold it up for him to see, squeezing it so he knows the little air bubble is still inside.
“Can I put this on you?” He nods. He closes his eyes and lets out a long, shaky breath as you roll the condom on. You lay on your back and gesture for him to climb on top of you. “Okay, now come here,” you say.
He kneels between your legs. You hold your arms out to him and he slowly lowers himself into them, planting one wide hand on either side of you. His cock taps against your slit and it makes you both hum.
“I need to feel you inside me,” you whisper.
Corey’s toned arms almost give out. “I need to be inside you,” he agrees in a strained voice.
You guide him to the right spot. With one push he slides all the way in. He’s completely fucking perfect, filling you all the way up. He flexes his hips experimentally, and the smallest little movements cause him to make the prettiest little whines. You feel so good around him, he’s scared he won’t last five seconds if he moves the way he wants to, but the way you’re looking up at him weakens his will, and he gives in.
Once he starts in earnest, he can’t stop, overtaken with a sense of urgency, needing more, more, more. His face and chest turn bright red. His eyes tear up and he squeezes them closed. The way he pounds you feels fucking incredible, but the sight of him and the sound of his whiny moans getting higher and higher pitched is what makes you truly feral.
“Holy shit, Corey.” You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “You feel so fucking good. You fill me up just right.”
You feel the effects your words have on him, faltering slightly before fucking you even harder.
“Look at me,” you command. He opens his eyes and you see the tears welling there. You’re worried for a second, but before you can ask if he’s okay, he reassures you.
“I’ve… never… felt this good,” he says between gulping breaths. “I’m really… really close.”
“Oh yeah? You’re close?” Your tone is teasing, but sweet.
“So close,” he barely manages to say, the rhythm of his movements becoming less coherent.
“I want you to cum for me.”
“B-but… but…”
“Don’t fight it. Cum for me, Corey.”
You wrap your legs around his hips and that’s his undoing. He whines your name, muscles trembling, spilling into the condom, a single tear breaching his waterline.
"Oh my god," he says, voice hoarse as he lays back down beside you.
"That good, huh?"
"Mmm," he hums happily.
When he realizes you didn't cum, he's adamant about returning the favor. And you'll let him in the morning, coaching him on exactly how to rub your clit to make you scream, before you take him for breakfast at a greasy little diner and drop him off to a chorus of "Ooooh where were you last night?" from his roommates. But for now you just snuggle into his thick, strong arms, content to spend the night with him.
#corey cunningham#thank you so so so much for your writing !! 💗💗💗#the way you can always keep corey as corey. no matter which situation you drop him into. you get him.#ugh also i'm sorry with my obession with coreyisms -- the struggle is real and i'm making it everyone elses problem heehee#bonus highlights:#i know for a fact that shoot bastard would actually be the greatest film of all time lolol#joan keeping an eye on his bank account#i wonder which was his first tattoo. idk i feel like maybe it was the horse shoe ??#and the fact is collection is all traditional american#cigarettes in his sleeve#how he knows he runs hot !!#all of joan's furniture being from before corey was even born#heehee his craigslist roommates (how many does he have?)#ugh just him being so silly stupid desperate 💗💕💖 my baby. my angel. i want to ruin him
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8 Qualities of Fictional Heroes
Tomorrow, my novel "The Double" publishes on Amazon. (Grab your copy here.) The hero of the novel, Eddie Ankin, is my entry into the annals of heroic characters in contemporary fiction. An ex-Marine turned Hollywood stuntman who has to take matters into his own hands to stop a killer. I've always wanted to write a hero. I spent much of my early days in television focused on anti-heroes, so I've longed to see what it took to create a hero in today's world with all its challenges, big and small, professional and personal.
Why do we love to read about heroes?
Best-selling novelist Robert Crais has a pretty good answer. As he writes to his hero, Elvis Cole, in the anthology The Lineup, "you are a metaphor...you represents hope to people...most folks, all we have is ourselves, the transmission drops before Christmas, some dip keys your car, the rent jacks up, and we're left wondering how we're going to make it. That's where you come in."
Pick up Mr. Crais’s latest Elvis Cole novel here:
In contemporary fiction, characters like Jack Reacher, John Corey, or most of John Grisham's lawyers often possess qualities that readers find heroic and entertaining.
I thought about these qualities a lot when writing about my hero, Eddie Ankin, trying to build them into him while following him in his first adventure in "The Double." Read the book and judge for yourself if Eddie is a fictional character worthy of the label: "heroic."
In the meantime, here are 8 qualities that I think make a great fictional hero:
1. Mastery: The characters in the story have an extraordinary ability to develop creative solutions and a deep understanding of their respective fields. They use their expertise to excel in challenging situations and produce remarkable results.
2. Determination: Possessed of an unshakeable desire to succeed, heroic characters forge ahead. No matter the obstacle, they persevere with a ferocity borne from unyielding strength of will. They will not quit until their goal is accomplished. They endure hardships and setbacks but find ways to bounce back, showcasing resilience.
3. Courage: These figures may be confronted with risky or hazardous circumstances and demonstrate bravery in the face of adversity. They stay calm in a crisis. They keep their wits about them even in a dangerous or hostile situation. These figures fight for their cause and are not afraid to risk their lives for it.
4. Strong moral compass: They are often driven by a desire to do what is right. There can be a struggle between upholding a strong moral code and getting the job done. On the one hand, they have a strong moral code that they adhere to even when it comes into conflict with the law. On the other hand, they sometimes find themselves operating outside of the law in order to achieve their goals.
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5. Intelligence: They are often portrayed as intelligent and resourceful, able to think critically and solve complex problems.
6. Strength: These characters are no slouches in terms of physicality - they possess great strength, agility, and mastery of combat, giving them a definite edge when facing off against opponents.
7. Wit and charisma: Often, they possess a sharp wit and a sense of humor that adds an element of entertainment to their character. This is an important quality for readers to respond to as it injects a playful dynamic into the story and keeps the narrative lively. Characters with wit are adept at maneuvering their way out of tricky situations. For example, Jack Reacher is renowned for his wry comments. In every book, he dishes out funny lines that keeps readers invested in the story. Similarly, John Corey's dry sense of humor and droll sarcasm act as a counterpoint to his gruff demeanor which keeps readers hooked on every page. These characters have a certain magnetism that captivates readers, making them enjoyable to follow throughout their journeys.
8. Complexity: The protagonists of these stories are usually well-developed with interesting and complex backgrounds that draw readers in. Their struggles and motivations are the very things that make them instantly relatable. Watching how they use those struggles to solve the problems they face is what makes them captivating.
What do you look for in your fictional heroes?
Who are your real life heroes?
"The Double" on Amazon. (Grab your copy here.)
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#writing a book#fiction#reading#heores#fictional heroes#books we love#jack reacher#lee child#john corey#nelson demille#robert crais#elvis cole#eddie ankin#the double#jeremy elice#elice island
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Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-Six
Coriander Rule #56: Never trust someone who sits on top of a pile of popsicle sticks and obsesses over art, for such people will surely monologue.
Exhibit A, and the only exhibit to date: this Dr. Popsicle Stick Lady. Or whichever of her doctor names she gave herself. Who gives a fuck, am I right?
Now, before the rule turned out to be true, my client, Velvet, was on trial for the crime of trusting someone who had way too much fun with popsicle sticks. She didn’t know she was on trial, but she totally was. We both were, but I wanted to think I was the defense attorney. Or the prosecutor.
“I’m telling you, I’m getting bad vibes,” I tried to keep my voice low as I muttered to Velvet.
“Don’t worry. If it comes down to it, you’ve got that backpack blaster and I’ve got this gun I found.”
Tch. “Found”. More like looted off an enemy guard. Not that semantics ever helped anyone.
“Why does someone like you want to help us defeat the guys that you work for?” I called out.
She bobbed her head to and fro as if she was listening to a song. In fact, she grabbed the popsicle sticks that were in her hair and started tapping them against the pillar she sat on. “Look at all the things you can do with a little bit of arts and crafts!”
“You’re not answering my question!” I snapped.
“Oh, but I am! You see, this huge corporation claims to want what’s best for humanity, but they failed to realize that without art, Earth is just ‘eh?’ But that’s just how corporations are, aren’t they? They stifle creativity and restrict art until it’s sanitized and marketable! Just like that snappy slogan I just used! If they can’t find a use for art, they find it useless. Me? I just can’t abide. I need to show everyone all the ways art is essential to humanity!”
“But aren’t you on their side?”
“I’m on the side of art, the greatest side you can be on. As long as I’m inspired, I don’t mind where that inspiration comes from! I need to be free to explore all mediums, and even discover new ones!”
...Yep. There it was. The monologue.
I tried to look around me. I couldn’t see any form of exits besides the way we came in. Figures. If there was a way for her to have gotten out, wouldn’t she already? Considering how The Flashbulb seemed to go to great lengths to hide her existence, I had to assume that she was trapped there.
Yet another ridiculous person we just had to meet. Go-fucking-figure. Really, how could this person help us, anyway?
“Velvet, let’s just turn back and find some other way around,” I nudged her. “I don’t think we’ll find anything here.”
“Really? We found a person. That’s already one thing.”
Gah. The fu...fu...fudgetrucking nerve! Did she not notice the red flags?
Or maybe she did and she’s just confident she can use the situation to her advantage. She’s probably already thought something up. That’s just like her.
“Aaaaand...DONE!” Lord Popsicle (look, it wasn’t like anyone was going to care what I called her) announced. She held up some wooden block.
“We can’t see shit, dumbass! You’re too high!”
“Astute observation!” She dropped the wooden block down. It landed without so much as a scratch. I was hesitant to approach it, as I knew I needed to be on my guard.
“I get it, I get it! I’m a scary lady you just met who recently learned how to use popsicle sticks as chop sticks! It was hard at first, but I got the hang of it! Also, that wood block is made entirely from recycled...guess!”
“How about no?” For real, not even (if I had to guess) five minutes in and I was getting real sick of the repetition. ‘Art’ this or ‘popsicle’ that. How irritating.
“I like that! Unorthodox answer! Quite artsy!”
Velvet took a few steps forward and pointed the gun upward at our supposed helper. “I’ve got this, Corey Andy.”
“I’m going to ignore that for now,” I replied.
Why does she have to come up with the most ridiculous names? There’s no way I’m going to be referred that way.
I walked over to the wood block and picked it up. Then, my hands began to shake: it was a picture of Velvet and I, which, would have been fine. I mean, the details were amazing. Our forms were near perfect. That wasn’t the problem. No, it was that the picture was of me standing on my tiptoes and kissing Velvet’s forehead. Something that happened not all that long ago.
What started as shock and possible fear turned into anger and confusion.
“How could you…”
“How could I draw so fast? Mostly a force of habit from back when I had to finish my dad’s paintings for him.”
“No!” I shouted. My hands were balled into fists, I dropped the painting on the ground. “How could you have known? Unless…”
Beside her buzzed two little flying drones which were about the size of flies.
“Oh, that’s what you mean! I used these little bugs! They’re small enough that they can fit through the cracks within walls! It’s nice for when I need inspiration!”
“Who gave you the right?!”
Velvet turned to me. “This isn’t the time to lose your cool,” she urged me. She was right, too, and by all accounts, it must have seemed like I was making a cow out of beef jerky, but I had my reasons. I didn’t know what those reasons were yet, but they were there.
It used to be my job to spy on people. This shouldn’t bother me.
“Not only can they watch people, but they can also listen in to their conversations, and let me tell you, I’m so glad that you two found a way to get in here. I was really hoping you would. I just loved both what I heard and what I saw. The motivations, the struggles. The pain and joy. It’s all so poetic! I just had to capture your likeness.”
I dropped the painting and stepped on it. “Capture that!”
Was it petty? Sure. Would it drive home how serious I was? You betcha. No more games.
“Is it smudged?” She leaned over and looked down. “I was going to say you could keep it, as a gift, but if you want to use it in that way, that’s fine too! As long as it served some kind of purpose, I’m glad! Besides, I can always make another. The important thing is, no matter how fast or slow I am with my art, I always put effort into everything I do!”
“Look, Velvet and I don’t care!”
Velvet continued to point the gun at the art nut. “I would have phrased it better, but she’s right: we’re trying to fight an impossible battle against an entity that can’t be defeated, so if you want to help us, you’ll step aside and show us where the exit is.”
Damn. I forgot how fierce she could be when she wanted to.
“Give it up, Velvet! There’s nothing she can do to help us. Keep your aim on her and let’s walk back. If she knew where an exit was, why would she be in here?”
Velvet started to walk back, still aimed at the one atop the popsicle pillar. I pressed a button on one of the straps of the backpack and the lasers set their sights on Popsicle Lady.
“If you try anything, I swear…” I stopped myself. I sounded ridiculous. So far what had she done? Spied on us and drew a picture? In other words, a little creepy, but harmless. Velvet was right: we needed to be as efficient and free of distractions as possible. Creepy or not, if that woman wasn’t going to be our enemy, there was no need to attack her.
But as I started to walk back and try to catch up with my silk spun partner, I felt the force of something hit against me and the force thrust me against a wall.
“What the –”
I tried to move my arms, but nothing would happen. For whatever reason, I was stuck.
“What a beautiful wallflower you’ve become,” mused someone from up above.
I could hardly turn my head to face her. Whatever substance had covered me must have been pretty strong.
“What did you do?!”
“Oh, that? That’s gorilla glue! And no, in case you’re wondering, it’s not made from actual gorillas! I’m as surprised as you are, I’m sure!”
“Argh!” I tried to thrash about with the same results. No movement.
“Nothing I can do to help? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Spice!” Velvet cried out.
“Since when was that my nickname?” I groaned. Oh, it didn’t matter.
“No, I will help you two out! By drawing out your potential! True, your goal is a near-impossible one, and you were right to focus on it, but you won’t get very far without some guidance! So allow to make you my muses and become wonderful works of art!”
Ladies, gentlemen, kind folks of the jury, I rest my case.
Damn it, I really thought I was onto something. Usually I could just wing it and when an opportunity arose, I’d take it. I thought that was one such opportunity, but now look at the mess we were in.
“This is all your fault!” Coriander yelled. Whether she thought that way or was just pissed at her situation was anyone’s guess, but I didn’t blame her. “We should have never trusted this art freak!”
It’s not that I trusted her, I just thought that we had caught a lucky break. But then again, maybe I really did trust that person. Maybe I had gotten so used to finding allies recently that I believed there could have been someone in that evil lair who could help us.
You’ve gotten softer, Velvet, I scolded myself. Softer, silkier, smoother. Velvety.
I knew I’d have to take a life eventually. It went without saying that being in such a place and not expecting to have to kill was absurd. As hesitant as I may have been before, I wasn’t about to let anything happen to Coriander. So I set my sights, aimed, and…
I saw myself step forward with a pistol. She pointed it right at me. In my hand wasn’t the same heavy weapon as before, but also a pistol. We both aimed at each other, and then everything went black.
Engulfed in total darkness. Or so I thought, but there was a light somewhere. Above? A dim glow? Either way, I stood, once again.
Stop it. Stop getting distracted by this. My target is the art lady. After that, I need to free Cor...Coral? Never mind. It would come to me.
I aimed the pistol, which I somehow obtained, and shot straight ahead. I was surrounded by Velvets on all side, who also took aim, and before I knew it, confetti. Wait. Confetti? Or nothing?
That’s right. It’s all an illusion. I don’t really get it, but I just have to analyze my surroundings, focus, and then the weak point should appear in my mind.
“I know what you’re doing!” I cupped my hands and called around. “But it won’t work!”
“Cut! Cut!” The voice of the art lady boomed. “End scene! Perfect!”
“What’s going on?” I yelled in response.
“You’ve been cast in the leading role of some new blockbuster movies! But who am I, you may ask? I am the great Dr. Lynch, of course, director extraordinaire!”
I groaned. “I don’t care what you call yourself! I just want to get a move on!”
“So you’re the type of actor who gives every performance your all? Excellent! Next scene!”
I don’t think so.
I ran forward, sure that if I just broke through I would be free of the illusion, and then I could break Coriander free and together we would –
Bright, orange glow. Beat up cars. Explosions in the distance.
“Fine. I’ll bite. What kind of movie is this, anyway?”
I wasn’t sure if she’d answer, but to my surprise, she did.
“It’s an art film! Of course, all films are art, because good or bad, corporate or independent, they all have effort put into them. But, is effort the only thing that goes into art?”
I wasn’t about to answer that. I decided to wander around the city landscape a bit. Even if it was some green screen, illusion, ‘movie magic’, whatever, I didn’t see myself making much progress until I could figure out a way to exploit the situation.
Maybe I should think like a hacker, like the good old days. Only this ‘movie set’ is the software, and I’m the infection.
I went around and kicked some rubble. These “streets” were already on fire, destroyed by some unknown force that I didn’t care to know.
Off in the distance, I could see a group of people in what appeared to be superhero costumes. Jeez, what a bunch of dorks.
“Dr. Banter, I’m going to need you to get irritable!”
“That’s my secret, Admiral: I hate it when you leave the toilet seat up. I hate it when you don’t wash your hands after you use the bathroom and then wipe your dirty hands on the shower curtains. I hate when you put used paper towels in the recycling! I hate when you leave your shoes around everywhere! And when you snore!”
“Yes! More! We need you to turn into Bunk and smush Lowkey!”
I grimaced. While I didn’t know what was being referenced, it was clear this ‘movie’ was parodying something. Regardless, I wasn’t having any part of it. I picked up a brick and threw it at the group.
“Hey assholes! How do I ditch this popsicle stand?”
Everyone turned to me and looked stunned.
“It’s Black Velvet!” Admiral (I guess was his name?) pointed at me. “The secret agent who works for Condom! Why is she attacking us?!”
Condom? Really? Couldn’t they have picked a better name?
“Maybe she’s being mind controlled by Lowkey!” Someone covered in tinfoil suggested.
“You’re right, aluminum foil man! Or maybe Condom is really a front for the evil organization, Gorgon!” Some guy who looked just like a thumb suggested. Everyone looked at him in disgust. Honestly, I was too. I mean, he looked like a thumb.
“You may be the god of fungus, mighty Thumb, but you are not very bright,” Admiral replied. “Besides, that’s spoilers for the next movie! Dude, you’re not supposed to give that away.”
Are they...breaking character?!
I shook my head. It was best not to get sucked into the nonsense. What was that old saying? ‘Exit stage left’? Very well. I turned to my left and began to run.
“Smart thinking! You need to find a way to escape, don’t you?” Came the voice of ‘Dr. Lynch.’
“Gee, I didn’t know this was the director’s commentary track!” I retorted as I ran through a torn down building.
I know this isn’t real, but I don’t know how else to explain this.
“How are you doing this?”
“Should you really be asking that? That’s like asking a director ‘what’s my motivation?’ There are some things you should just know!” Her voice boomed.
She’s right. Somewhat, anyway. I didn’t know how she was doing these tricks, but I knew what my motivation was, and that was good enough.
“Mark my words, I’ll find an opening, exploit it, and break free! Then I’ll break Coriander free!”
“That’s what I like to hear! You might want to hurry, though! I hear poly...urine? Poly...uranium? Um. It’s a hard word to say, but I hear it’s quite toxic! Plus, as we speak, popsicle sticks are being dumped on her, so if you don’t hurry, she’ll suffocate to death!”
I’ll burn this whole set down if I have to. I’ll reduce every piece of “art” that she has to ash. So what if it’s true that most people don’t even “save” one person in their lifetime? As long as both Spice Bae and I are still alive, I’ll fight time and again to keep it that way.
Heh. I needed to be careful with my line of thinking; I didn’t want to be mistaken for an actual hero.
There were worse ways to die and I would have rather chosen any one of them over what was being done to me.
“So that’s just it, huh? You’re planning on confining me here until I die?!” I shouted.
“Hm? Hm?” It was like she was humming a tune. How irritating. “Oh, you can call me Dr. Bob Ross!”
“I’d rather not.”
“Very well! And to answer your question, no, I’m not just confining you. I’m confining both of you! As we speak, your little gal pal is in that little box and hallucinating up a few good movies for her to star in. I can’t wait to find out what movies she was in after she’s all done! But, if she spends too long in there, her mind will erode and wear itself out. That is, unless she finds the willpower to break free. But even if she does, that box is pretty sturdy!”
So basically I have to break myself free and break her out. Or she has to break herself free and break me out
“You two are stronger together, right? And I’m willing to bet you and her are pretty strong individually, as well. So this shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right?”
That’s right. Velvet thrives on life or death situations. As for me…
“If I could just reach the buttons on my backpack…” I muttered.
“Velvet was what you called her, right? Well then! She will become Velvet, the movie star! And you...I haven’t decided yet. But I’ll make you my muse yet. Maybe I’ll make a sculpture out of you…”
That wasn’t going to happen. No sculptures. No human arts and crafts projects. None of it.
Up another torn down building I went until I reached a floor where there were no walls and I could see the sky outstretched.
Where is there to go from here?
“If it’s all an illusion, then there isn’t very far that I can go. Theoretically,” I let out a deep breath. How hopeless. I didn’t know how to go ‘off-screen’.
“There’s no escape! I will rule all of Nude Pork City and there’s nothing you can do!” Cackled a snobby British voice.
“The...fuck city?” I jolted. Startled, I turned around and saw a skinny man in a green leotard with a horse mask on. He cackled once more.
“This movie is PG-13! You can say ‘fuck’, but only once!”
“Dude, you just said it again.”
“Fuck!” He cried out, as if he had already been defeated. The most surprising thing of the whole ordeal was that I could actually hear what he said from underneath that horse mask. “No matter! No one can defeat me, for I am Lowkey, the villain!”
I looked up. Could I find my way out by running to the highest point of the building and jumping out? But then that might just kill me. Ugh. It would really help if I had a laptop next to me right now.
“Hey! Why aren’t you paying attention to me! I am Lowkey!”
“Sorry, this just isn’t my kind of movie,” I explained.
“Heh. Heh! HEH!” He cackled once again, then pulled the horse mask off. Underneath, was an emaciated face which sported greasy black hair. Even if I swung that way, I didn’t think I’d find him all that attractive.
From his suit, he pulled out three little grenades. “You talk a big game, but you’re still human!”
“Still not my type!” I called back, then rolled over behind a pillar. He tossed the grenades my way. I thought I was a safe enough distance, but they detonated, and the explosion sent me back to the further end of the building. Not only that, but the explosion was causing the building to collapse.
I struggled to stand back up. I had to hold onto the very pillars that were crumbling.
I need to run. I need to run and tackle that guy and then get out of here.
From behind me, that same snobbish voice: “Hey cupcake!”
“What...did you call me?” I growled.
“Hey cupcake, why don’t you and I go back to my place later?” He mocked. “Velvet? Like a cupcake? Are you sweet like one too? Do you taste good like one? Hm, cupcake?”
How did that Dr. Lynch woman know that about my past? Did she really know that much about me? Just how did this movie operate?
“Shut up!” I leaped and grabbed onto his leotard, then reached into his pocket and grabbed one of his grenades. “You want to taste something? Taste this!” I shoved it in his mouth, then pulled the pin and let go.
There was little time: I needed to run down the collapsing building before it could come crashing down and reduce everything to rubble.
But isn’t that what I want? To bring it all down? To destroy the “art” that would hurt the ones I care about? Why does this building feel real, anyway? Did she create this elaborate of a set? If it’s not real, then what danger am I in? If I’m in no danger, I shouldn’t be worried about anything…
I stopped.
“Where...where did the gun go?” The one that was taken off of the guard. I had it. Then it was replaced by a pistol. Somehow.
Because it wasn’t real.
When I got to that “movie”, I had nothing. I had to use a brick. I had to use that villain’s grenades. Grenades that weren’t real.
So in other words, I have nothing. But wasn’t that par for the course? I came to The Flashbulb’s lair with nothing. I’ve had all sorts of risky endeavors, and each time, I would just acquire things as I go.
I ran anyway. For whatever reason, I ran.
No. I don’t have nothing. There’s someone I came with that I care about.
On cue, just as it came crashing down, I escaped. Not even a second after, credits started to roll.
...Wait, what?
‘The End’
Then, the list of the actors who played the characters showed up in front of me. I just couldn’t believe the whole environment was covered by text. Names I didn’t recognize to characters that didn’t matter. Then, I saw my own name. Or...my character’s name? Next to it, it listed…
“No...it can’t be…” I gulped. “Scarlett Johansson?! Really? Come on! I have more class than that!”
Then, answering my call, Scarlett Johansson’s name was crossed out, and a new name replaced it.
“ZENDAYA?!”
I shook my head. “Just stop it! Why can’t I be me?”
Thus, Zendaya’s name was crossed out as well, and finally it said:
‘Velvet as HERSELF’
I nodded my head. “Much better.”
“Stay tuned for a post-credit scene!” Boomed Dr. Lynch’s voice.
Right. There was still that matter.
“Not happening!” I shouted, then ran toward the front where the credits were and kicked forward. As I did so, I hit a wall.
Literally.
Everything turned to black. But my eyes opened once more.
There was gas all around me. I began coughing uncontrollably and it ached just to stand. I didn’t understand why, but I did my best to break free, anyway. I banged my fists against the walls.
Pounding of fists.
It seemed like I was going to lose consciousness up until that jolted me back awake. I still couldn’t turn my head. All those popsicles were growing quite heavy. But, that sound. It must have been Velvet.
If she can do that...if she’s still trying…
I had to as well. It’s not enough that she could try to break free on her own. It had be me as well.
At first, all I could manage was to twitch my fingers. With each passing second, it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
But, if I can twitch my fingers…Yes!
I balled my hands into fists and with as much pressure as I could muster, I slammed my fists against the wall. It didn’t amount to much at first, but I kept trying. After a few tries, with increased force, my arms broke free and I could move them again.
However, the pain was excruciating. I cried out. I couldn’t cover my mouth.
“Hm? Oh, hello there,” Dr. Bob Ross turned to me. I raised my arm up and pressed the button on the backpack. Lasers fired around me and broke me free from the wall. With a thud, I landed.
After I brushed off the popsicle sticks, still disgusted, I looked up toward where that mad artist was.
“I’ll break Velvet out myself, then I’ll get up there and kick your ass! Mark my fucking words, you’re dead, kiddo!”
Dr. Bob Ross burst into laughter. “Okay, okay. Congratulations are in order. But you broke free a little sooner than I expected. I’m not ready for you yet.”
I cracked my knuckles and gave a fiendish grin. “Nobody’s ready for me. I can deal so much pain.”
“I’m going to need you to stay put and wait your turn,” she didn’t seem to heed my boasts at all. I watched her spin her finger, and from the ceiling, a giant claw reached down and pried my backpack off of me.
“Hey! What gives!”
She cupped her hands together and shouted: “Popsicle house time!”
“What?!”
Something dropped in front of me. Once again, I found myself confined.
Four walls. Small, dim, with a roof that was only a little above my head. My only reprieve was one window. I looked out: the room on the outside had grown brighter. I could see the encased area where Velvet was, but I no longer heard her knocks against the walls.
She better still be alive, dammit.
I leaned my head out a little more. Next to me was another popsicle house. Someone else leaned their head out: a bearded old man with gray, curly hair.
“She locked you up too, huh?”
I wasn’t about to dignify that with a response. Instead, I walked off to the other end of the popsicle house and ran toward the wall with full force, elbow in tow. Rather than the house breaking apart, all that happened was a world of hurt.
“Ow! Ow!” I winced. “Maybe I need to try harder.” I walked back, then ran again, with even more anger and drive. Again, nothing but pain.
“God damn! Who knew popsicles could be so sturdy?”
“Welcome to Gay Baby Jail,” the old man greeted once more. That time, I peeked out of the window once again.
“What did you call me?”
“That’s the name of the cell you’re in. Once she puts you in Gay Baby Jail, you’re not getting out unless she wants you to.”
I shook my head and lowered it against the window. “This is stupid…everything is so ridiculous.”
“This is your life now. Consider yourself a gay baby.”
“Ugh…” I groaned. “I am getting out of here. I don’t care how. I have to.”
“Why?”
“Because I have someone out there...we protect each other. I’m not saying I care about her, but she’s important to me and I’m going to do all that I can to make sure she’s well!”
Once again, I tried to break the walls that held me in. I wasn’t about to accept that it was useless. There had to be something I could do.
What wonderful muses I happened to acquire. Things were going so smooth that I almost felt like I needed to shake things up more. But patience. Those two were an inspiration, sure, but inspiration wasn’t instant. So while they were kept occupied, helping me along, I had to study them well.
“Now let’s see their character bios…” I pulled up a tablet. Just about everyone’s records was stored in The Flashbulb’s database. If we didn’t have a profile on them, well...I’d just have to make one, wouldn’t I? But let’s not be too hasty.
“What did they say their names were again? Velvet...and...Coriander? Is that right?”
Velvet was easy enough. Sure, there were many Velvets in most universes, but then there was matching a name to a face. Lucky for me, that also proved to be easy. Next was Coriander.
That one was a little harder. There were a few Corianders out there. More people named Cilantro, to be honest, but that was neither here nor there. But a Coriander that had some sort of relation to the Velvet whose profile was displayed in front of me? Unheard of. So instead I refined my search to all the people associated with that Velvet until I saw an image that matched “Coriander”.
My eyes lit up. Yes! YES!
“This! This right here! This is the inspiration I need!” Oh my, how interesting things were. To learn such things about those two. I could use that.
But enough about those two. They were a little preoccupied. My little muses were making me proud, reminding me of why I got into the game in the first place.
Yes: my backstory. Or more, my “midway” story. My humble origins as an intern for The Flashbulb, back when I was still among fellow artists. “But aren’t you still an intern?” The spectators might have asked, were there an audience to spectate on my thoughts. To answer those hypothetical spectators: yes. But there was an explanation for that.
It all started back in Flashbulb University (note: Flashbulb University was not an accredited university), a school where interns for The Flashbulb went, fully funded by the Education Department. We never really learned much, but the wiser of us would join clubs, otherwise we’d just get displaced and used as fodder for whatever tasks those in proper departments wanted done.
I had wandered down the halls, having gotten as lost as ever, when I pulled out my map. At the time, I developed a keen interest in the art of map making, as well as studying architecture. As it so happened to turn out, the layout of the university was...excuse my language...uncreative. If I had my way with the layout, well...I wouldn’t do anything. That wasn’t a medium I was willing to tackle just yet.
Yes. As loathe as I was to admit, there were certain arts that I would never be able to see myself doing. The art of cooking, the art of staying organized, the art of money management. Who needed any of those skills? Not me. Especially when I could just eat whatever was made at the cafeteria. My taste buds could handle anything, and not only that, I got to experience someone else’s art. Really digest it fully (most of the time).
One day in that very cafeteria, I met up with my fellow intern buddies, Dr. O’Keefe, Dr. Kahlo, Dr. Kubrick, and Dr. Méliès. Each of us were aspiring Flashbulb members as well as members of the Painting and A/V Clubs respectively.
“Every form of art will be available to you,” Dr. Louvre told me when I first joined. So naturally, the first thing I clung to was the art of film-making.
So we all sat, some of us eating tacos, others eating escargot. Me? I ate dried squid, of course.
“So what projects have you been up to?” Dr. Kubrick opened up the discussion.
“I’m studying a venus flytrap,” Dr. O’Keefe answered.
“I’ve been staring up at the moon,” it was Dr. Kubrick’s turn.
“No way! So have I!” Dr. Méliès replied, a hint of astonishment in his voice. Then, I glanced over and noticed the two staring into each other’s eyes.
“I see the moon in your eyes,” Dr. Kubrick uttered such words.
“I see the same in yours.”
Was that really so inspiring? Yes. In much the same way I found inspiration from a burning building, Van Gogh found inspiration from the night sky. With that in mind, inspiration could come from anywhere. No, not just anywhere. Everywhere. Every little thing.
So while everyone began to chat among themselves, I began to doodle. Nothing in particular. Unlike my father, it wasn’t so much nature that inspired me, but humanity. Rather, the vague shape that humans took on.
That must be the reason I was recruited, I thought while reminiscing. Back in the memory, I recalled what happened as soon as Dr. Kubrick and Dr. Méliès left.
Dr. Pollack showed up and slammed his fists on the table.
“Hey guys!” He looked around. “Sorry, I should be more discreet.”
He sat down. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated.”
“Having an art block?” I asked as I sipped on oyster milk.
“No. It’s this...this whole thing! Day in, day out, we’re stuck as interns.”
“Well, there’s no way out of it,” Dr. O’Keefe replied. “The Flashbulb isn’t known for its upwards mobility. If they decide to put us in a department, they will, otherwise, we’re here doing their chores for them and anything else that needs to be done that they don’t want to do. Of course, if someone decides to attack the main headquarters, they keep us around so we can be their human shields.”
“Some saviors of humanity, am I right?” He slumped over.
All that time since I’ve known them and I never realized they had such ambitions.
“You know, if you want to be part of a department so bad, it’s not all that hard?” I spoke up.
“What was that?”
“Yeah, ya heard me. Easy peasy.”
“How do you figure that? It’s not like there’s an A/V Department or an Arts and Crafts Department.”
“Of course not. But there is a Fine Arts Department.”
“Those guys? Really? They’re all a bunch of snooty snobs!”
I scowled. “The answer is right in front of you, yet you refuse to see it.”
“Fine, if you’re so smart, tell us.”
“We bring the Arts and Crafts club and the Painting club and the A/V club to them. We could be the first department with its own set of sub-departments. So if you want, present them the opportunity to expand the Fine Arts Department. Those guys love the word ‘expansion’. All you have to do is say ‘expand’ and they get all hot and bothered. Try it.”
Those three looked at each other, then ran off. Not long after, the plan was a success, and Dr. Louvre as well as Dr. Cannes approached me.
“We have you to thank,” Dr. Louvre towered over me and every syllable out of his mouth boomed. “Without your help, we wouldn’t be able to,” he drew a deep breath, breathed the words between his nondescript lips. “Expand.”
He cleared his throat. It seemed that word had quite a powerful effect on him.
“But what about you?” He continued. “Isn’t there something you should want? With your artistic talent, we could make you one of the leaders of the Fine Arts Department, alongside the likes of Dr. Cannes and I.”
I shook my head. “All I want is my own studio. Food prepared for me. All the art supplies I could ever need. An assistant. That’s all.”
“Very well. It shall be done.”
Yeah, that guy sounded so big and commanding, but in actuality, he was too afraid of my artistic talents and so the Fine Arts Department left one day to a version of Earth, with no specific mission attached. While I was content to stay in my studio, I wished they would have invited me. Shame, too. They never did come back to the headquarters, and ever since, it seemed as if most people were too afraid to visit me. They gave me food, water, any art supply I needed, but that was about it.
Oh well. That was all history (in the sense that there were many gaps and the information that was known paints an incomplete picture). I had two muses now, and I would help them reach their full potential. Speaking of, it was probably about time for Velvet’s next movie to start. It should start getting good now that the movies were going to dig deeper into her consciousness.
Ah, I should’ve known by now; the walls were too thick. My movements grew weaker. It hurt just to stand.
I need to...I need to rest a bit…I’m sorry.
Right before passing out, I had just one more thought: Aha! So that’s how it works!
Then darkness once more.
Once again, I found myself leaning against the window, my only reprieve.
Then, I heard the worst thing I could hear: nothing. No more knocks against those walls.
Has she given up?
I kicked the popsicle wall that held me and screamed out. After a few huffs, I paced about.
“She better not be dead! I won’t allow it!” I growled. “She’s too good for that!”
“Relax,” the old man in the other cell called out to me. “If anything, she’s just passed out. Her second movie is probably about to start. It usually takes at least four movies to kill someone.”
Of course. She passed out before. When she first met me from a previous life, she held me at gunpoint while I held her at laserpoint. Her gun was empty. Before my lasers could fire, the power went out. Then, she passed out. It ended up being up to me to carry her and I to a locker, as I was worried about whatever danger could have lurked. Those were memories I still had, as painful as it may have been to recap.
“That...that doesn’t reassure me.” Even still, I felt too defeated to do anything other than relax. So I went back to the window.
“Maybe if I had a lighter or a flamethrower or something…” I shook my head.
“What do you need one of those for?” The old man asked.
“Are popsicle sticks flammable? I mean, they’re wood, right?”
“Those are the questions which will haunt me up to my deathbed.”
“Don’t be such a baby,” I scolded. That was something I needed to tell myself as well, huh? Why was I so worried about someone who didn’t need worrying about, anyway? She was capable. So it was fine. Ugh. No it wasn’t.
I shook my head.
“I can’t do nothing, and it’s not because I don’t think I could survive on my own. That’s not the issue. We could both probably survive on our own. But, I mean, just in case, I’d like to be there…” No, that didn’t sound right. “Well, what I mean is, even if we could both survive on our own, I’d like us to not be on our own as long as we’re alive, y’know? Gosh, maybe I’m taking this whole ‘til death do us part’ too seriously.”
“You sure do care about her, huh? So what, you two married or something?”
“What?! Why would you think that? That’s ridiculous. Anyway,” I smiled. “Yeah, I do. Even though I was supposed to hate her, it somehow ended up like this. She can get on my nerves sometimes but I know she just likes to see my reaction. If it’s something that really bothers me, she knows not to do it. She knows when to be serious, too, and she can be really supportive.”
“Sounds like the real deal.” “Oh yeah. That’s not even going into her talents. She can find the smallest details in the shortest amount of time. Hell, she’s the very definition of ‘think on your feet’. Like, sure, most of the time she’s lazy as fuck, but then when push comes to shove, she really shines. Her hacking skills are unparalleled, and she’s so resilient. Able to take on foes far stronger than her and still maneuver around whatever obstacle in her way. Being able to improvise and use anything around her to her advantage. Honestly, she inspires me, and I hope I can inspire her too.”
I lowered my head against the edge of the window and shook it. I felt like tears were about to fall out. So, at the very least, I made sure to smile.
“What’s wrong with me?” I shook my head.
“You’re a gay baby, all right,” he sounded like a fucking sage.
“Shut it, you. No one asked.”
I thought that maybe if I used my environment to my advantage, just like how I described Velvet, maybe I could have broken out. But I saw nothing that I could use.
Even if that were the case, I wouldn’t give up.
Ugh. Talk about weird dreams. Something about a fisherman’s wife and a giant squid. Being a pirate sure was a mess.
I got up from my uncomfortable cot in my captain’s quarters and stumbled out. As my accursed luck would have it, I had a headache. Like all things, I blamed it on the sea.
Yes, that very sea in which our pirate ship, the Jo-Ann’s Revenge resided.
My body ached as I swayed to and fro, as if enchanted by a sickening sea shanty.
God damn, how much rum did I have last night?
“Mornin’ Velvetbeard,” ol’ paranoid Connard greeted in ever the dull tone. “I hear the marines have taught the parrots to read our minds. We must steady our guard.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay. Jot that down or something.”
Our crew ate our share of mackerel and sardines for breakfast all while we gathered around the table and made plans for our next raid.
“So there’s a trade ship that was spotted,” Connard reported.
“Do we know its contents?”
He nodded. “Doritos, fruit snacks, top ramen. All your favorites.”
“Hot pockets?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh...but when I think of all the sodium…” I leaned over the table and rested my head on it. “Can I just, like, go back to bed? I’ve got this massive headache and I’m tired of pirating.”
“I knew it!” The Jolly Kelly Roger barged in. “You’re not really a pirate, are you? You’re a spy for the marines!”
“The fuck? Forget the plank, I’ll throw you overboard with my bare hands.”
“Go ahead! I hear there’s a pirate ship full of catgirls and I’m prepared to swim over to them!”
I looked up. “Real shit?”
“Mm-hmm! Anyways, see ya. I’m off to cat paradise.”
Jolly Kelly Roger was never seen again.
Meanwhile, three years later, and I wasn’t quite sure what all happened, but Connard went to chill in some pyramid and I lost most of my crew. All that was left was Blanka, Connard’s best and only friend. Who for some reason decided to go with me of all pirates (people).
“How did it even come to this?” I shook my head. Three years, and the headache still hadn’t gone away. It was like a coconut kept dropping on my head every morning.
“Something something gray stoner pirates,” Blanka replied, although Blanka was no longer there.
It was up to me to take on the marines and the 51st Fleet all by my lonesome. So I did. I infiltrated their ranks by punching a hole in the bottom of their vessel and jumping up. To think it was common belief that it was impossible to sneak in. Ha.
I’ve already done it once before, in fact. Like, some odd years back. When I was a wee little Velvetbeard. My first mate, Violetbeard was rumored to have been captured by the 51st fleet, so I took it upon myself to sneak in and find her, for the thought of what horrifying things they could have done to her was too much for me to bear. Unfortunate for me, I never did find her, nor a trace that she was even there. The best I could manage was stealing a pirate ship from them. That is why the Jo-Ann’s Revenge exists.
Now, onto the sneaky pirate stuff…
“There’s gotta be something I can do,” my voice grew weary in what must have been such a short amount of time.
You’re nothing without your technology.
Maybe that was true at one point in time. Even if that was still true, anything could be technology if it could be utilized…
“Isn’t the right, popsicle stick sticking out on the ceiling?” I looked up. Such a faint hope. How to get there. But wasn’t that what my whole journey was built on? Some faint hope that I took a chance with and made it far enough to find myself where I was. So being “stuck” wouldn’t register to me. Even in my past life, though others were convinced I was stuck, I still tried and fought anyway.
There were “ledges” (so many quotations, I know. Bear with me), I could use. Flimsy, easy to break, but that lent me more hope than despair. All I needed was one, maybe even a few, and I could make my attempt…
So, one foot over the other one, and just a few steps more, and I had gotten the diamond stick in the rough. The wooden needle in the needlestack. Just as my luck had turned bright, I lost my footing and fell back onto the metal floor.
“Owwww,” I groaned. There went my youthful back. Now I welcomed the embrace of my newfound elderly back. Oh, and the embrace of several popsicle sticks. One of which, I held in my hand, and when I shook the rest off of me, I got to work.
“You okay over there?” The old man called.
“The okayest,” I scoffed. Then I got to work chiseling away at the wall in front of me.
“What are you doing, anyway?” “Well, old gay baby, I don’t know about you, but this gay baby wants to leave the crib.”
“She can see you, you know.”
“Let her try and stop me.”
“How bold.”
“I’m not bold, I just happened to make the first move.”
“Bold statement.”
That guy was frustrating me. But, deep breaths, I tried to play it cool.
“What are you even in there for, anyway? I just realized I never thought to ask.”
“I was hired as her assistant after the last one got set on fire and had to be hospitalized. I told her that her paintings should have more men in them, especially men in diapers. She scowled, put me in a diaper, then kept me in here.”
“Oh jeez. I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s not all that bad once you get used to it. I actually rather enjoy it. Plus, I don’t have to go to the bathroom, because I’m always already there.”
Ew. Ew. EW.
“Okay, uh, what was your name again?”
“Dr. Michelangelo.”
That made too much sense.
“Okay, Dr. Michelangelo. You stay right there. I’m not breaking you out.” Once I was free, I hoped and prayed that I never had to meet him again.
Hold on, Velvet. This gay baby is learning to crawl.
So far, so good. The whole sneaking business was a go. Then came the inevitable.
“Jolene, I know you’re there! You stole my man!”
Shivers ran down my timbers. The unmistakable voice of Mustachebeard, the fearsome vice-admiral for the marines. For the record, yes, I did say I was Jolene when I infiltrated their ship last time, but no, I did not steal anyone’s man.
I did my best to avoid detection, knocking marines out one by one as I traversed the hallowed halls of the ship. I stole a musket off of one of the marines, which really helped once I made it above deck of the ship and found one of the vice-admiral’s lookouts. I ran up to her and before she had the chance to pull out her weapon, I pointed the musket I had looted right at her face.
“Y’arr. Name’s Velvetbeard. I’m here to steal your heart.”
“You,” she growled. “I heard you’re the worst pirate to have ever existed.”
“Nah, there’s worse. There’s gotta be, right? I mean, I can’t be that bad, can I?”
I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. As it turned out, the musket had no ammo. That, and I didn’t know how a musket worked.
“Nice try,” she smirked. “Now men! Fire!”
Behind her was a firing squad, which meant that I was as good as dead. But instead, everything went black. Everything began to spin in place.
That girl, whatever her name was...was kind of cute.
Yes. There was the headache, in full force. My head felt ready to split itself open and all the contents would spill forth for the world to see. It all felt both so uneasy and yet so familiar. As if it was all a rehash of something that I had been a part of before. Something long gone.
It was but a small opening, but that opening was good enough for me. Like a baby, I crawled through and as soon as I was out, I ran over to the metal box that Velvet was trapped in. I kept banging my fists against it.
“I’m impressed, but at the same time, I wish you’d slow it down! She’s got at least two more movies left in her! The next one will surely dig deep into her psyche.”
“Not. Gonna. Happen,” I growled.
That same gloved metal claw came, likely to pick me up. Some artist Dr. Bob Ross was if she thought I was going to be fooled twice. I swerved to my side to avoid the reach, then I grabbed on to the metal spring and I began to hit the wall with the metal claw.
I was awoken by that same lookout, the one I thought was kinda cute. We were in the middle of a cabin. She shook me awake. As it stood, I was grape jelly.
“Come on, we gotta work together if we wanna make it out.”
“Ugh...what happened?” I rubbed my forehead.
“We were invaded by the Polo Wearing Pirates. Fearsome bandits, they are. As much as I hate to admit it, I need your help. Everyone else aboard the ship has died.”
“Oh, I see what’s going on. Some kind of enemies to lovers type thing, right?”
“Wrong. This is serious. We will never be anything more than enemies.”
“Then why did you kiss my forehead?”
I paused.
She was gone. I was somewhere else. In the clouds? Or aboard another pirate ship. Or in a room, where my former first mate was, Violet. Just Violet.
“Why hello,” Violet greeted.
“What...what are you doing here?”
“You wanted to see me. So I am here.”
“But…” It was ten years. Tears began to trickle down. “I can accept you being gone.”
I knew where I was. At a park. Close to where the school was.
“You’re still the same timid Velvet I knew.”
“How do I escape this movie?” I demanded. Was it me coming back to my senses? No. It was just something that came out.
She approached me. Between the high seas and what I thought to be the closing credits. But maybe they were cornflakes in the wind.
“You wish you knew what happened to me. But you never will. That you may have accepted, but it will still be on your mind. The thought of what became of me. Whether I lived or died, and if I lived, have I lived a good life?”
I shook my head. “Maybe I wonder from time to time. Maybe you will always be someone that I’ll miss. But you know what? So will anyone else that I meet. I’ve accepted that I’m not the type to forget people, no matter how big or small the impact. So...deal with it.”
Yes. That was what they called a flashback. Or forward. Or somewhere in between, on the side. Because I was still next to that blue haired spice.
“So you see, ten years ago there was someone who knew me as someone else. I’m still an anxious person from time to time, but I’m also much more than that. In fact, some would even go as far as to call me ‘badass’.”
“What are you talking about?” My enemy, not lover, asked.
“I...maybe you’ll find out in a later stage of our relationship,” I teased. We got up, but I fell again.
“Sorry,” I croaked. “Now I must inform you that I feel like I am dying.”
My eyes. They eclipsed.
Pounding sounds began to erupt, like my own heartbeat. I clutched my chest, but that didn’t feel right.
“Oh no!” The blue haired wonder cried out. “We have to hurry! The ship is exploding! Our ship is going down!”
I tried to get up, but I could feel the heat. Smoke rose up all around us and I started to cough. Not only was the rest of the ship on fire, but so were my lungs.
There.
At last, the box was broken. Gas leaked out and dissipated. I covered my mouth, but I could still feel the effects making me dizzy. Not to mention that I already felt weak from my previous two ordeals.
I looked around and there Velvet was, on the floor. I rushed to her.
“Hey! Hey!” I shook her.
“Our ship is sinking…” I heard her mutter.
“No it’s not! See, I’m right here!”
I held her against me. It took me a few more seconds to register that she was just asleep, but even still, I needed her awake. Then, I thought of something.
“Hey if you wake up, I’ll kiss you on the lips.”
Her eyes shot open. “Real shit?” She uttered with a groggy voice. Then she looked over and saw that it was me, “oh hey, enemies to lovers.”
I groaned. “I wish you wouldn’t remind me.”
Now, there was just one other matter to attend to...but before I could get to that, Velvet tugged at my shirt collar.
“What about the kiss?”
“Can’t it wait? We’re in the middle of a fight.”
“No.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh, then leaned in and gave her a peck.
“Really?! That’s it?! Come on!” She jolted up.
“I’ll do it for real later,” then I turned my attention to what was behind her: the gun that she had before passing out. I took it and almost dropped it, the damn thing was so heavy. Just a few more steps, though, and I would then part with it.
“Hey Popsigirl!” I yelled.
From atop the pillar, I saw a hand emerged which then proceeded to wave at me.
I growled, then threw the gun at the pillar. All the popsicle sticks began falling down, one by one, as the mad artist’s tower crumbled.
Court dismissed.
#happiness overload#scifi#surreal#comedy#drama#gay#writing#stories#fiction#velvet#coriander#pirates#superheroes
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bound to recall, a self para.
WHEN: wednesday, february twenty-sixth
WHAT: roy attends an alcoholics anonymous meeting after almost breaking his sobriety.
WORDS: 2024
TRIGGERS: drug addiction, alcoholism, overdose, death, mention of scars, depression, brief mention of suicide.
Recovery wasn’t a straight line, not some destination that one can reach. It was constant work, at least this is the way that Roy views it. He’s surrounded by temptation in every social situation, by just being in the presence of someone drinking or buying drugs from their dealer. It’s why going out late at night to some party isn’t part of his interests anymore. He was getting older, not interested in wasting his life away with people he doesn’t know just encouraging him to take just one more sip or chase that high one last time. He was much too young when his hands touched heroin for the first time, remembering experiencing that euphoria. What business does a child have getting drunk and injecting drugs into their system? What business do grown men have selling either one to children?
It wasn’t ever planned to end up hanging out with the wrong crowd, not a location on his map worth visiting, but Roy would end up at one of those parties when everyone was busy with their own lives. He would say that there was some secret mission, hoping his loved ones would believe him — but it might be the worst alibi when it comes to trying to make it seem like not coming home until morning was normal. It really wasn’t, especially looking at the crowd who welcomed him in. Roy would meet up at one of the abandoned buildings in the city, the district citizens stayed away from no matter what the time was. Star City definitely has its characters that have bathed in the darkness for so long that it permanently tainted them. He would wake up surrounded by garbage — crushed red solo cups, old newspapers from over the years, and whatever else you may think of.
Often Roy was just surprised to still be alive, waking up with a needle in his hand, staring up at the ceiling on a stained mattress. He would be surrounded by others caught in the same addiction, going through this cycle, and it doesn’t last long until the redhead would chase his next high. It wasn’t until getting really desperate toward the end that he would bring the drugs home, and can’t ever forget they look of disappointment on his loved one’s faces when they found out. However his days of being an addict weren’t always pretty. He may have been lucky to wake up the next day, but that wasn’t to be said about everyone. He has experienced seeing strangers sobbing over a motionless body on the floor, who used too much and overdosed. It was one of his real experiences with death, this didn’t happen often, but the few times might be scarring. Roy doesn’t like to think about it, but when he does? His mind drifts to Corey.
The first band he was ever in formed during the years Roy was deep into letting his vices control him. One of his bandmates Corey always encouraged going to more and more parties. This is when his alcoholism really started, just wanting to impress, and told that he was more fun in this mindset. Corey was only interested in being around Roy when he was either drunk or high — not caring which. You can imagine how well it went over when the teenager went to rehab to turn his life around. The archer remembers one of the last conversations they had, Corey looking at him with this heartbroken stare while saying some bullshit story about how he missed his friend.
Roy got sober — hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol in almost nine years. He was proud of that, even if he has his bad days.
Roy got clean — hasn’t touched heroin in almost nine years. Although, he scars of his has track marks from his past.
While Roy made his life better? Corey died from an overdose. This would have been his fate too if continuing down the path, which is the terrifying part about having these realizations. Roy suffers from depression, usually not wanting to bother anyone with his thoughts, and contemplated suicide just once. This was after he slipped up, feeling so guilty for breaking his sobriety that it felt like a reasonable solution. Waylon talked him out of it, made him a better man, and got him into a good program. Which ended up being the last time Roy went to rehab. He hasn’t slipped up again since.
This is all being reflecting on along with recent events, while standing up from his chair. There was many people at this open meeting, but there was a lot of familiar faces. Roy comes here a lot, helping to get the thoughts in his head out there with people who would understand. He felt nervous standing up in front of everyone, despite having done this so many times before. It took a lot of courage to be so vulnerable with strangers. He nervously pushes his calloused fingers through his red curls, looking at the other pairs of eyes just staring at him.
“Hello, my name is Roy, and I’m a recovering alcoholic. I’m twenty-eight years old, and I’ve been sober for eight and a half years.” This gets a reaction from some, but it isn’t focused on because his mind is just trying to get his story out. He taps his fingers against the podium, looking down for a moment while collecting his thoughts, and looks back up again. He needs to do this. “I was just a kid when I had my first experience with alcohol. I thought this was what teenagers were meant to do, you know? Go out to party with their friends, experiment a little — it didn’t seem to hurt anyone else. Only I ended up drinking with complete strangers at night, not telling anyone where I was really going, and my habits became much worse when I started to mess around with heroin.” He takes a deep breath, feeling so vulnerable thinking about his time going through this. “I had this friend who would take me out drinking. He was older than me, and I thought that was cool. We played music together, but I don’t think my talents are why he kept me around. I wonder sometimes what my life would have turned out if Corey didn’t take me everywhere he wanted to show me. ‘YOU HAVE TO MEET THESE PEOPLE’ he would say, but it felt like looking in a mirror. I stopped hanging out with him when I got sober. He was angry, which resulted in him lashing out at me for it, but I got better.” There was another pause, it has been a while since thinking about him.
“I got better, but I still have my bad days. I’m not happy about feeling like that. How I would much rather drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey. I used to like sitting in the back of someone’s truck, passing out with it in my hand, even if I wasn’t old enough to have it. I never cared about getting caught, but I always remember how much work I put into getting sober. I have a daughter. She has never seen me drunk ever, and I want to make sure it stays that way, you know? She doesn’t need to see me like that — stumbling over my own feet, reaching for a bottle like my life depends on it, and being so loud. I want to protect her from ever seeing each like that. When I think about having a drink, I think about her, and then I’m able to take a step back.” Roy means these words, Lian was a motivation to maintain his sobriety. He has something to live for, and he can’t lose it.
He grips into the edges of the podium, something to keep him grounded as he looks around at his audience. Roy feels like this is a safe place, somewhere he could be himself. “I recently got into a new relationship with this lovely man. I think that he’s more than I deserve.” Roy gets choked up for a moment, apologizing afterward. “My sponsor wouldn’t like hearing me talk about myself like that, but my boyfriend is the first one to ever love me after knowing what I’ve been through.” His ex-girlfriend didn’t seem too interested in respecting his past like Jason does when they were together, and Roy was more than thankful for it. “I don’t think his brother likes me very much. I got these text messages after I was having one of my bad days.” He did have depression still, deciding to keep it to himself, not wanting to be some sort of burden. “His brother told me to stay away in the texts, and that his family was better off before I came into the picture. I know how important family is, so I just felt so rotten if I was coming between them somehow. I didn’t do anything, but why would anything good last for me? I’m used to being called a junkie, not treated with love. Hurtful things were said, and I felt so low that I went to a bar. I ordered a beer, not my usual taste, but I thought it was cheap, so why not? I just wanted one, something to drown the pain I was feeling that my boyfriend’s brother hated me. It pushed me over the edge, like there was too much going on in my mind so it just burst at the seams.” He sighs heavily, thinking about it for a moment. Roy wonders if he would ever be able to be ‘okay’ with Damian again after what was said. “I called my boyfriend, left him some voicemails before turning my phone off, and he somehow found out which bar I was at. He stopped me before I could drink, knowing how important my sobriety is. I thought about it though, I may not have drank, but I feel like a cracked mirror. I just have to try reminding myself I’ve made it through these feelings before, but nothing about this is easy. I like to try reminding myself I’m still in control, but I’m still eight and a half years sober. I forgive myself for being weak. I forgive myself for being scared. I’m proud of myself for being strong as I can be, and trying to be the best version of myself. I won’t let alcohol have power over me again. Thank you for letting me tell more of my story tonight. I really needed to get it off my chest.” His legs take him off the stage as people clap, and then someone else is standing up to go share their own story. Roy needs to go outside, get some fresh air for a few minutes though. Someone stops to make sure he was okay, and the redhead reassures the person m that they don’t need to worry. His hands turn the doorknob slowly, not wanting to make any noise as he slips outside.
It was cold out, typical New York winter, but something felt refreshing about the chill to the atmosphere. Once upon a time maybe Roy would have been smoking out here, but that was one habit that became one of stress than being addicted to the nicotine. Which might be for the best, his two habits were enough to kick with several rehab programs to show for it without throwing a third one into the mix. He just watches as people walk by, leaning against the building with his fingers stuffed into his pockets. His life was a mess, so much tragedy plaguing it, but he can’t focus on just that, right? Roy has a lot to appreciate, good surrounding him more and more with every day. He doesn’t know if he deserves it, but the redhead does like getting attention, especially if it was genuine. He will accept the love to outshine the bad days. Roy turns around, heading back inside to be present for the rest of the meeting.
#[ SELF PARA ]#ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢʜᴏsᴛs. [ MUSE ]#drug addiction mention //#alcoholism //#death mention //
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things i find hilarious... context I’m an oilers fan (grew up in alberta) and have friends that are bruins fans. The bruins are my favorite east coast team. todays game they went off about how the oilers got away with everything under the son. went off about how dirty of a player drai is. drai for sure should get penalized by the league for that. the kicker is that their other favorite team is the stars. yet they saw nothing wrong with perry at the wc or with marchand.
Sorry just saw this today. I’ll warn you (Anon who sent this or whoever’s reading this) that I’ve had a crappy day and I might have went off on my rant. Here’s my take though:
Look I’m one of the older hockey fans on tumbler (which is weird to say cause i joined almost a decade ago). There’s things I’ve learned over the years and this is not just about hockey and the NHL. It’s about sports culture in general. For instance I see a lot of this stuff with my brother-in-law who is obsessed with Basketball (and football to a slightly lesser degree).
The face of the matter is... Fans are 90% blind to their own teams faults. I try to keep an open mind when my team plays and I’ll call my team out for their bullshit or I’ll keep my mouth shut because I don’t want even more hate to be spewed. For instance, I’m a Blues fan. I don’t like Binnington at all as a human being. I think he’s a racist piece of crap. Is he a good goaltender, yes. Will I praise his plays on the ice, yes. Will I praise him as a person, no way in hell.
[[MORE]]
That being said you can look at my other team the Vegas Golden Knights. I love them pretty darn close to the Blues but slightly less. Tuch is also a racist piece of human garbage who like Binnington hasn’t truly apologized for the racist things he’s done. Do I get excited when he scores, yes. I want my team to win and if it’s because he scored a goal then I’m not going to get mad. Am I going to dislike him as a human and refuse to support him, of course. As soon as someone shows their true colors and doesn’t learn, grow, and sincerely apologize for them, I’m done. Binnington and Tuch have been given chances. Tuch basically ignored it, Binnington played the “I was young and stupid card.”
A lot of people shit on binnington because he got caught, he’s been called out... but refuse to acknowledge that players for their own team, even some of their favorites have said/done things in the past as well and not apologized for it. For example Auston Matthews this summer. Tumbler was furious but eventually when the case got dropped people immediately forgave him and praise him both on and off the ice.
The fact of the matter is this is at not just a league wide level but a fan wide level as well. The NHL does next to nothing unless it is 100% confirmable that a person has done something wrong, even then some of these people only get a slap on wrist (Austin watson, Semyon Varlamov, Patrick Kane {the cab driver incident in this case since it was proveable}), etc.
There’s also the case of fans going after the refs because sometimes they miss a call, sometimes from their vantage point they don’t see what started a fight, etc. Fans get pissed and say things like “refs choke”, “refs must be getting paid under the table”, “Refs are fucking blind”. I’ve been hearing that since my college days. Hell I used to say some of those things in my college days. Yes sometimes the refs favor a team, whether intentional or not.
What fans refuse to see is when the refs favor their favorite team. They get defensive about it. “You’re just pissed because my team won”, “maybe it’s because we know how to do it when they aren’t looking”, “you’re only saying that cause your team has more penalties”.
The fact of the matter is, fans only want to see the good in their team and not the bad. Fans will destroy another team for anything but as soon as someone reverses the situation and attacks their team it’s “playing the victim” as shitty as this phrase is. I say this because as much as I love the Demons group chat (and I love them all dearly). Every time the Blues play either the Knights or the Stars they go ham on saying things like “fuck the blues”, “refs dressed in blue and yellow tonight”, “which blues player do we hate the most and why?”. These all came into the group chat tonight. From the beginning of the game to the end of the game I sent a total of one message.
That’s common for me. When the Blues played the Stars in the playoffs last year I very very rarely sent a message during game time and for a good couple hours after.
Because if I were to say anything bad about the Stars I’d get the binnington card thrown at me. Even though Tyler Seguin has said some pretty shade shit in the past I won’t bring it up in the group chat “because he’s changed”. Look if any demons are reading this, I’m sorry but here’s my full thoughts on this and it might hurt you to hear but the fact of the matter is, I get that you hate my main team, I get you’re pissed about last years playoffs, I get that you hate Binnington (I do too), but I keep my mouth shut in the group chat about a lot of things when it comes to the stars because so many of y’all are fans of them. I don’t like the stars as a team. I don’t like Seguin and there’s been some shitty stuff by the management that has soured me on the team as a whole (Jim Lite in particular).
My issues with Seguin are fairly simple. I can’t fault him for his partying ways back in Boston. He was a 18-21 year old, drafted 2nd overall, and won a Stanley cup his rookie year. That being said, he chose this as his profession, when he signed that contract as a legal ADULT he chose to follow the rules set by the team. He got benched for missing breakfast and fans were up in arms about it. It was a mandatory breakfast, which means he was contractually obligated to go. He broke part of that contract and as such he deserved to be benched to learn a lesson.
He’s also said some homophobic and racist things in the past. Yes I’m 100% talking about the tweet from his trade. He used the “I was hacked” card. I’m sorry I don’t buy it and it’s convenient that he was hacked and said something like that right after he got traded.
Onto the racist piece of his. I use this term lightly because it was said in regards to other white people but it was in regards to non-Northern American people. The quote was “Guys always talk in different languages. Sometimes you just put your foot down. We’re in North America, we’re not going to have a team of cliques.”
That is so tone deaf, because people would have been up in arms if he had said that about people of color (I would too because that type of shit is fucked up), however if he’s willing to say that about his fellow white teammates who happen to be European why would he not be saying the same thing about migrants from Hispanic countries?
He sounds so ignorant. Does he go to Quebec and speak strictly French? Did he speak French and German exclusively when he played for Biel in the lockout?
It’s rhetoric like that people just glance over and pretend wasn’t said.
I’m pretty sure everyone at this point knows I don’t like Corey Perry. I think he’s a dirty player, have since he was a Duck.
People loved Roussell when he played for the stars, yet he slew-footed like crazy, gets in to multiple fights for seasons but the minute anybody back in the day attacked him they were bad guy for pointing out he’s a dirty player.
Non-Stars player that I have an issue with that I’ve been given flack for across multiple platforms is Sidney Crosby. He might be one of the best players to ever play in this league. He has also used this to his advantage way to many times to do some pretty dirty things that fans excuse because “it’s Crosby”. (I will forever be pissed about the Claude Giroux wrist incident).
So at the end of my massive rant here’s the summary.
1. Fans will continually bash another team for their dirty plays but praise their own (or completely ignore it or defend it) for similar things. (Bruins fans with Marchand, Hawks fans with Shaw, Caps fans with Wilson). That isn’t going to change.
2. You can either bring it to their attention and get flack for it and potentially end a friendship... or you can keep quite, ignore them in regards to that (until you eventually have enough, and then you do a super long post like this)
3. Every team has dirty players, a lot of teams have someone (or more than one) who has done or said something controversial. It’s up to you to determine if bringing this to other fans attention during a smack down of your team is worth it.
4. Love hockey for hockey. If their talk gets too much then maybe you need to take a break from them.
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9. Thaim!
9. “You don’t remember last night at all, do you?”
From
this list
of prompts
Also on AO3
Theo isn’t sure what goes wrong.They’re fighting off some witches and seem to have the upper hand when onefires a spell at Liam. Theo’s on him immediately, checking him and making surehe’s alright. All Liam does is roll his eyes, pushing Theo away, “I’m fineTheo. Don’t worry about me. We need to help the others.”
Stiles seems to be getting moreand more pissed off at the witches, “That is not the proper use of magic! Youshould know better! It’s people like you that give magic users a bad name!”
The witch hurls a fireball at himwhich he easily blocks and sends right back at the witch, knocking her over.Once she’s taken down the other two witches that were with her scurry away.
Stiles glares down at the witchwho looks a lot less menacing when she’s cowering at his feet, “Now what are wegoing to do with you?”
“We can figure that out later,”Theo says, stalking towards her, “right now I want to know what that spell shecast at Liam does.”
The others turn to Liam who isjust looking at Theo in fond annoyance, “I told you I feel fine.”
“Yeah now,” Theo says,glaring over at his boyfriend, “but that doesn’t mean something won’t happenlater.”
When he turns back towards thewitch she’s grinning again, “I assure you no real harm will come to him.”
“Then why do you look so happy?”Derek asks, “What is the spell going to do?”
“Nothing physically and nothingpermanent. You’ll just have to remind him.”
“Remind him of what?” Theo asks.
“Who he is. What matters most tohim,” the witch says, before throwing her hand up and disappearing in a cloudof smoke.
“Seriously,” Stiles says, “that’swhat she went with? That’s so cheesy and overdone.”
“You’re just mad that you don’tknow how to disappear like that,” Lydia says, rolling her eyes when Stilessticks his tongue out at her.
“What did she mean when she saidyou’d have to remind me who I am and what matters to me?” Liam asks, startingto sound a little worried.
“I don’t know,” Theo says, “butuntil we do you shouldn’t be alone.”
“What? Are you going to babysitme?”
“We’re dating Liam,” Theo rollshis eyes, “and we live together. I’d hardly call it babysitting.”
Theo tries to stay awake thatnight, wanting to keep an eye on Liam. But once Liam falls asleep with his headresting on his chest it gets harder to stay awake. He’s so comfortable andfeels so safe with Liam in his arms. Despite his best efforts he finds himselfdrifting off. He wakes up with a sudden pain to his face, reminding him of thetime’s Liam would punch him in the face. Which doesn’t make sense. Liam hasn’thit him in years, hasn’t had any reason to.
Remembering last night Theo’s eyessnap open to meet Liam’s yellow ones, the beta shifted and staring at him. Helooks about ready to punch Theo again, “What the hell Liam?”
“Why aren’t you in Hell?” Liamasks, “And why are we both naked?”
Theo feels his heart drop. If Liamthinks he should still be in Hell… “You don’t remember last night at all,do you?”
Liam glares at him, pulling thecomforter up higher on his chest, “Obviously not. What did you do to me?”
“I didn’t do anything toyou,” Theo tells him, “we fought off a witch and she cast a spell on you. Weweren’t sure what it would do. Except…”
“Except what?”
“I think it was a memory spell,”Theo says.
“Besides last night I’m prettysure I remember everything perfectly,” Liam says, “like you being an assholewho tried to get me to kill my Alpha and hurt me and my friends. But then weput you in Hell. So how are you here?”
“Liam,” Theo sighs, “That was… howold do you think you are?”
“What do you mean think? I’m 16.”
“Shit,” Theo looks around theroom, picking up his phone and sending a quick text to the others in the packgroup chat. A moment later Liam’s phone sounds notifying him of the message.Theo didn’t think that through. He just wanted to reach everyone in the fastestway possible, “Shit.”
“Why… why are you in a pack groupchat?” Liam asks, looking up at Theo after he reads the message, “And why wouldScott even listen to you when told him to come after everything you’ve done?”
“I want to explain,” Theo says,“and I will. But once the others get here. Something tells me right now you’llbe more likely to listen to them than me.”
“Obviously,” Liam says, “they’remy friends. You’re just some asshole who betrayed us all. I don’tunderstand why they would let you out of Hell.”
“They didn’t.”
Liam’s brow furrows, “Then who’sthe idiot that did?”
Theo feels his lips twitchslightly, “You are.”
“You’re lying. I would never bringyou back.”
“But you did,” Theo tells him,“and then you broke the sword that could send me back.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”Liam asks.
“Because you needed my help.”
“That still doesn’t explain whyyou’re in my bed,” Liam says, looking over at Theo before immediatelylooking away, a light blush coating his cheeks, “and why we’re both naked.”
“That’s a little morecomplicated,” Theo tells him, “and maybe something we should ease you into ifyou really don’t remember the past 5 years.”
Liam’s eyes widen comically, “5years?!”
“Yeah, did I not mention thatpart?” Theo clears his throat, “maybe we should get dressed before the othersget here.”
Liam stands up, comforter stilltucked tightly to his chest, “Theo…”
Theo glances over at him, “Yeah?”
“Where are my clothes?”
“In the closet,” Theo says,gesturing in the direction of the closet, “your underwear are in the top draweron the left side.”
Theo watches as Liam walks over tothe dresser and opens the top drawer, carefully examining the contents. Hepicks up a pair of Theo’s boxers, turning around to show them to Theo, “Whoseare these? You said my underwear is in the left side of the drawer. Am I… oh myGod,” Liam sits down on the bed, boxers still in hand, “I’m not with Hayden nowam I?”
“No,” Theo says, taking the boxersout of Liam’s hands, “you’re not. You haven’t been for at least 4 and a halfyears.”
“Why?” Liam asks, looking up atTheo.
Theo sighs, dropping the sheet andpulling on his boxers, momentarily forgetting he needs to be slightly moremodest around this Liam. At least until Liam lets out a surprised squeak. Theolooks up to see Liam blushing even harder than before and looking anywhere butat Theo, “Sorry. Not used to having to be so modest. Hayden she moved away andyou two broke up.”
“Those are your boxers,” Liamsays, ignoring Theo’s comment and staring at Theo again with wide eyes.
“They are.”
“And they were in the drawer nextto mine.”
“That’s right.”
“And we… we woke up naked in bedtogether. I was… we were cuddling!”
Theo would find the wholesituation hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that his boyfriend apparentlyforgot they were together, still thinking he should be in Hell. Which means heforgot everything that happened since Theo came back. All the good he’s done.How much he’s changed.
Liam is still staring at him, hisface gone pale, “Are we dating?”
Theo sighs, “Liam it really mightbe better if we wait…”
“No!” Liam stands up again, barelyremembering to bring the comforter with him. Not that it would matter to Theo.He’s seen Liam naked enough times that neither of them should be embarrassed byit anymore. Except Liam doesn’t remember that, “I want you to tell me now! Arewe dating?”
“We are.”
Liam growls, launching across theroom and pinning Theo to the wall with a hand at his throat. The comforterslips off, leaving Liam completely naked. He doesn’t seem to be that botheredby it anymore, too focused on Theo.
He gets right in Theo’s face, hisvoice low and threatening, “What did you do? Did you threaten me? Threaten thepack? Tell me if I slept with you that you’d leave them alone?”
“Liam no,” Theo struggles inLiam’s grasp, clawing desperately at Liam’s hands in an effort to loosen hishold. He hates that Liam would think he’d be capable of something like that. Hehas to remind himself that Liam doesn’t remember how much he’s changed. That ifhe did he wouldn’t be saying these things but it doesn’t make it any easier tohear. “I would never do something like that.”
Liam gives an incredulous laugh,“Really? Because I think you would do anything to get your way.”
“Liam please…”
Liam stares him down, his grip onTheo’s throat tightening, “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you.”
“Because you love him,” Scottsays, stepping into the room, followed by Mason, Corey, Stiles, Derek, Malia,and Lydia, “you might not remember that now but you do.”
Liam turns to him, his grip onTheo’s throat only loosening a little, “How? How could I love him after what hedid?”
Theo closes his eyes, unable tolook at Liam or any of the others. He’d asked himself that same question somany times when they’d first started dating. It was always Liam that remindedhim he wasn’t the same person he was before. That always talked him down. Butnow…
“He’s changed Liam,” Scott says,holding his hands up as he calmly approaches his distraught beta, “he’s not thesame Theo you knew.”
“He’s right,” Stiles says,stepping further into the room. Theo’s eyes snap open to meet his and Stilesgives a little shrug, “Theo has changed. He’s not an evil asshole anymore, nowhe’s just a normal asshole.”
Derek sighs, putting a hand onStiles’ shoulder, “You’re not helping.”
“You need to listen to them Liam,”Mason says, walking closer to his best friend, “I know you don’t remember nowbut you will. And when you do remember you would hate yourself if youdid anything to hurt Theo. You’re the one who convinced us all to give him achance. To trust him, trust you. Now you need to trust us and let him go.”
Liam looks at his friends beforelooking back at Theo, loosening his grip and letting Theo go. He looks down atwhere Theo has his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, “You didn’t even tryand fight me off. You could have stopped me but you didn’t.”
“Of course I didn’t, “Theo says,“fighting you wouldn’t have helped. It would have made things worse. And Ididn’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
Liam looks at him curiously, preparingto speak before Lydia clears her throat, drawing their attention to her, “MaybeLiam should put some clothes on before we continue this conversation.”
Liam looks down, realizing thathe’s naked and blushes, moving his hands to cover himself. Theo stands up andwalks to the dresser, grabbing a pair of Liam’s boxers and tossing them to him.He grabs a pair of sweats and puts them on before heading towards the door,looking back at Liam before he leaves, “I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
Liam nods, all the anger frombefore gone and replaced with confusion.
“Liam totally has to be a top,”Malia says, walking down the hall.
“Malia,” Scott warns, his facescrunched up.
“What? It’s true! Did you seehim?”
“I’d agree except for that time Iwalked in on them together and Theo was…” Mason cuts himself off, looking downat the floor when he notices Theo walking into the living room behind them.
“We take turns actually,” Theosays, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back against the wall,“not that it’s any of your business.”
There’s a crash followed by somemuffled cursing from the bedroom before Liam appears, a blush once againcoating his cheeks. He can’t quite meet Theo’s eyes as he crosses the room andsits next to Mason. Theo realizes they might not get anywhere if Liam doesn’tfeel comfortable being around Theo, “I can leave for a while if… if you thinkit could help.”
Liam finally looks up at him, browfurrowed, “Leave while we talk or…?”
Theo’s breath catches in histhroat as he gets what Liam is getting at. He wants Theo to leave and not comeback. He has to look away, unable to look at Liam when his heart feels likeit’s being ripped out of his chest, only in a different sense than he was usedto in his nightmares. “Whatever you want Liam.”
“You could stay with me,” Masonoffers, looking at his best friend, “I mean, my apartment with Corey won’texactly be familiar but…”
“No,” Derek says, cutting Masonof. He’s looking right at Theo when he speaks, “Neither of you are goinganywhere. You’re both going to stay here. We know the spell made him forget butwhat we don’t know is how to make him remember. If he leaves or Theo leaves hewon’t have any reminder of what he’s supposed to be remembering.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Liamasks.
Theo closes his eyes, trying tofight down the emotion that’s been building up in him ever since Liam woke upand could only remember the bad that he had done. Of course Liam wouldn’t wantto remember. Why would he? He remembers the person Theo was when they put himin Hell not the person he is now, the man he’s worked so hard to be. Theoreally can’t blame him. And he knows better than try and force Liam toremember.
“That’s your choice,” Theo says,voice coming out much hoarser than he intended.
“No it’s not,” Derek says, gettingto his feet and walking over to Theo, “look at me,” Theo opens his eyes andmakes himself meet Derek’s gaze, “I know what you’re doing. You’re beingself-sacrificing and thinking that by walking away you’re doing what’s best forhim. But that’s not true. You need each other. He might not see that now but hewill remember. When he does he’s going to need you here.”
Theo nods, pushing past Derek towalk into the kitchen. He might not be leaving but he can’t be in the same roomwith Liam right now. Not when he’s barely holding himself together. He triesnot to listen to the conversation from the living room as he busies himselfmaking coffee. But it’s hard to ignore, Liam’s voice drawing him in.
“You really trust him?” Liam asks.
“We do,” Scott says, “all of us.”
“Even you?” Liam asks.
Theo doesn’t need to be in theroom to know he’s asking Stiles. Sure enough, Stiles speaks up a moment later,“I do. It took me awhile to get there but he has changed. Are you reallytelling me you haven’t noticed?”
Theo feels eyes on him and can’thelp but glance into the living room where Liam is staring right at him. Hequickly looks away when he realizes he’s been caught staring, “I guess so. Thisis just a lot to take in.”
“We get that,” Mason says, “butyou have to know we wouldn’t be pushing you to stay here with him if we reallydidn’t think it’s where you should be.”
“You’re good for each other,”Lydia says, “you balance each other out.”
Theo turns back to the coffeemaker, pouring himself a cup before sitting down at the kitchen table. He can’tbear to hear anymore. He’s joined at the table a moment later by Derek who sitsacross from him with his own cup of coffee. They’re both silent but Theo canfeel Derek’s eyes on him.
He’s not surprised Derek was theone to come talk to him. They’d become friends over the years, Theo would evensay they’re best friends. They helped each other get over their insecuritiesand self-hatred and go after what they wanted, or in both of their cases whothey wanted.
So Derek knows better than anyonehow hard this must be for Theo. There’s a sigh and the sound of a cup beingplaced on the table, “You’re doing the right thing by staying. I can’t imaginehow hard this has to be for you after everything you’ve had to overcome tosuddenly be right back where you started.”
“You mean where Liam still hatesme and thinks I should be in Hell?” Theo asks, not quite meeting Derek’s gaze,“because it feels like even though the spell was done to Liam it was gearedtowards me. As a way to make me suffer.”
“The witch said he needed toremember who he is. What matters most to him. The only thing he forgot was howmuch you mean to him now. Which means you’re what matters most to him.He might not remember that but he will. You’ll just have to show him who youare now, make him remember what you two have together.”
Theo looks up at Derek to find theother man already watching him, “You make it sound so easy.”
“It probably won’t be,” Dereksays, “the important things never are. But I believe you can make himremember.”
“Why? Why do you have so muchfaith in me?”
“Because I know how much you’vechanged. I know how much you love him. And if you love him as much as you sayyou do you’ll fight to get him back.”
“I will.”
Theo glances into the living roomto see Liam laughing with Mason and Corey. Things may have changed over theyears but those three are as close as ever.
“We should play video games!” Liamsays.
Mason and Corey share a lookbefore Mason shrugs, “Sure, why not? It’s been awhile since I kicked your ass.”
“If by a while you mean that itnever happens,” Liam laughs, “unless another thing that happened in the past 5years is that you suddenly got really good at video games.”
“Hey, I’ve always been good,”Mason says, sitting down on the couch in between Liam and Corey, “maybe I justlet you win so that you wouldn’t pout when you lost.”
“That’s… I would never do that.”
Theo snorts, drawing the attentionof everyone else, “Sorry. But Mason’s right. You are kind of a sore loser Liam.”
“I am not!” Liam says, looking toScott, Stiles, Malia, and Lydia for back up.
Scott pats Liam’s shoulder, “Youkind of are bro.”
“I can’t believe you’re allworking against me,” Liam says, “after everything we’ve been through.”
“We’re just being honest,” Masonsays, “I thought you valued honesty.”
Liam rolls his eyes, “Whatever.What game are we playing?”
“There’s this new one you haven’tplayed…”
They play video games for a fewhours, Theo and Derek eventually making their way back into the living room.Theo tries to stay back but at some point Stiles pulls Theo in to play anintense game of Mario Kart with him, saying that Theo is his only real competition.Playing would be a good distraction if it wasn’t for the curious looks Liam sendshim every so often, as if he can’t believe Theo actually plays video games.
Eventually the others have to go,leaving Liam and Theo alone. Theo isn’t sure what to do so he goes into theirbedroom and starts going through his things.
Liam follows him, frowning when hesees Theo grabbing clothes out of the closet and dresser, “I thought you saidyou weren’t leaving.”
Theo glances over at him, clothesheld tightly to his chest, “I’m not. I just… I thought you might be morecomfortable sleeping by yourself for now so I was going to take the guestroom.”
Liam doesn’t say anything, justwatches Theo go. It’s only across the hall but the distance between the roomsseems massive.
Theo doesn’t sleep well thatnight. He’d grown used to sleeping in bed with Liam, surrounded by his scenteven when Liam wasn’t around. He didn’t realize how much he relied on it untilhe suddenly didn’t have it. Maybe he’ll steal Liam’s pillow tonight. That is ifLiam still doesn’t remember. Theo really hopes he does.
Liam isn’t awake when Theo dragshimself out of bed so Theo decides to take a quick shower. He’s finishing upwhen he hears movement outside the door and realizes Liam must be up andwaiting for his turn in the bathroom.
“I’m about done,” Theo calls out.
There’s no answer but Theo canstill hear Liam on the other side of the door. It’s only when Theo has steppedout of the shower and has a towel around his waist that he realizes he forgotto grab clean clothes.
He makes sure the towel is securedaround his waist before opening the door. Liam opens his mouth to say somethingbefore snapping it shut, a faint blush coating his cheeks. Theo can’t help butsmirk as Liam stutters out a thank you before locking himself in the bathroom,whispering to himself, “Was he always so hot?”
Liam can barely meet his gaze allthroughout breakfast. Theo can’t help but find it endearing. It reminds him ofthe early days of their friendship, when before they got together and both ofthem were still stumbling their way around their attraction to one another. Todaywas certainly going to be an interesting day.
*
A week passes without Liamremembering anything. The only good thing is that after the first day Liamseems to warm up to Theo at least a little bit. He still seems a little warybut he’s not angry or afraid which Theo counts as a win.
Theo counts himself lucky that heworks for Derek at the bookstore he owns so he doesn’t have to worry aboutgoing into work. Liam had just finished up his last semester of college and wastaking the summer off so he didn’t have any responsibilities either. So theyspend a lot of time together during the week, usually alone. Though members ofthe pack do sometimes stop in to check in, usually Mason or Derek.
Theo is at a loss as to what he cando to make Liam remember. He isn’t sure how Liam feels. Liam hasn’t asked anyquestions about their life together and makes some excuse to leave the roomwhen Theo brings it up. Theo isn’t sure how he’s supposed to get Liam toremember when he clearly doesn’t want to.
They’re in the middle of dinnerwhen Liam surprises Theo by bringing it up, “I just don’t know what I’msupposed to do about this whole memory loss thing.”
“Remember who you are,” Theo says,making his voice go deeper than usual.
Liam stares at him for a momentbefore a smile breaks out across his face, “Did you just quote the Lion King atme?”
“Maybe,” Theo smirks, “I couldn’tpass up the opportunity when it presented itself.”
“You really have changed haven’tyou?” Liam asks.
Theo shrugs, “That’s what everyonetells me. I… feel different.”
“Less murdery?”
“You’ve been spending too muchtime with Stiles,” Theo says, shaking his head, “but yes, less murdery. Atleast towards people that don’t deserve it. Even then I try not to kill, onlymaim or seriously injure.”
“Okay Dobby,” Liam laughs. He goesback to eating his food, the two of them falling into companionable silence.When Liam is done he puts down his fork and looks at Theo again, “I think itmight help if you tell me some things.”
“Tell you things?”
“Yeah. Like about our lifetogether.”
“You’re sure that’s what youwant?” Theo asks, needing to be sure.
“Yes. I know I haven’t been thatopen to it,” Liam says, “but that’s not because I don’t want to know. I justdidn’t want to get your hopes up if we tried and I couldn’t remember.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Theotells him, “Stiles has been trying to figure out a way to reverse the spell onhis own. But if you want to know things I can tell you. You just have to ask.”
“Are there pictures?” Liam asks.
“There are. I can show you if youwant to see them.”
“I’d like that.”
They wash up after dinner thenhead into the living room, sitting side by side on the couch. Theo had plannedto just let Liam flip through the pictures but Liam wants Theo to do it, askingquestions about different pictures. Theo finds himself smiling as he tells thestories. From their first date when Theo had taken Liam on a picnic, to theirfirst kiss which happened on their first date when Liam had surprised Theo bysimply leaning over and placing a soft kiss to his lips before going back tohis lunch.
There are pictures of them withthe pack as well, the most recent ones from their group trip to Disneylandbecause Liam insisted that’s where he wanted to celebrate his 21st birthday.Liam doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by that.
“That was always my plan,” Liamtells him, “then once I got bitten it seemed like an even better idea since Ican’t actually get drunk.”
“It was a good trip” Theo tellshim, “you really enjoyed yourself.”
“Did you?” Liam asks, looking fromthe pictures to Theo.
“Of course I did. I was with you,”the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s something he wouldsay to Liam so easily usually that he barely even thinks about it, at least notuntil he sees the shocked look on Liam’s face. Liam quickly recovers, nudgingTheo’s shoulder and prompting him to go on to the next picture.
The next day Scott insists thatthe two of them meet up with the rest of the pack for a game of football at thepark. Theo agrees to go even though he has no plans to play. He’s seen firsthandhow games turn out and he’d rather not be in the middle of it.
Theo is watching from thesidelines as Mason, Scott, Malia, Stiles, Derek, and Peter run around thefield. Scott, Malia, and Mason are all on a team while Derek, Stiles, and Peterare on a team. They’re supposed to be playing a simple game of football,nothing too competitive. For the most part that has been the case. Theo waswatching alone with Corey, Liam, and Lydia until Corey and Liam decide theyneed to go get snacks.
They’re halfway across the field,almost to the food truck parked nearby when Corey stops and calls for Mason.Liam stops with him, not wanting to leave his friend behind. Mason turnstowards Corey to see what he wants, yelling something about wanting a funnelcake. He doesn’t notice when Malia throws the football at him. Liam knowswhat’s going to happen immediately, calling out for Mason and starting backeven though he knows he won’t get there in enough time to stop it. Sureenough, the football hits Mason in the back of the head with enough force tosend him to the ground. Liam starts forward with Corey, wanting to get toMason. Theo gets there first.
“Are you okay?” Theo asks, helpingMason turn over onto his back.
“I’m not sure,” Mason says, “butI’m thinking no. There seem to be two of you,” he tries to sit up and groans,putting a hand to his head, “fuck it hurts so bad.”
“Of course it does,” Theo says,reaching out and taking Mason’s hand, “you got hit in the back of the head witha football thrown by a werecoyote who clearly forgot her strength.”
Liam wants to go to his friend buthe feels frozen to the spot, only able to watch as the scene unfolds beforehim. He watches as the black lines start running up Theo’s arm, the chimeraeasily taking his pain. Since when had that been easy for Theo? He shouldn’t…
Liam gasps as a flash of a similarscene appears to him. Theo kneeling on the ground next to someone, next toGabe. Gabe was a hunter who had tried to kill them multiple times and Theo hadtaken his pain as he was dying. Theo had cared. He does care. He caresabout Mason. He cares about the pack. He cares. He loves butter pecan icecream and lime snow cones and ready fantasy novels curled up with Liam on thecouch. They have a life together in their small apartment and it’s perfect.Liam remembers it.
“Theo,” Liam gasps out,staring down at him in awe.
“I’m doing what I can Liam,” Theosays, glancing up at him, “Melissa should probably check him over but he shouldbe fine.”
“Not that’s not…” Liam shakes hishead, letting out a disbelieving laugh, “Theo I…”
He can’t find the words to explainwhat he’s feeling right now so he decides to let his actions speak inside. Herushes towards Theo, knocking the chimera over as he wraps his arms around him,placing frantic kisses all over his face.
“Liam… what?”
Liam pulls back with a grin, “Iremember. I remember you, I remember us.”
Theo eyes are wide and hopeful,“You remember? Everything?”
“I do.”
“But how?”
Liam shrugs, “I don’t know. Iguess seeing you take Mason’s pain triggered something. It made me rememberwhen you took Gabe’s pain and then after that it just came flooding back. Iremembered how much you’d changed. How much you care how. How much you love me.And how much I love you.”
Theo lets out a happy laugh beforeleaning forward and kissing Liam, neither one of them caring that they’re stillsurrounded by their friends. At least not until Mason speaks, “As happy as I amthat you remember, I’m kind of still holding hands with Theo which is makingthis a little awkward since you two are making out practically laying on top ofme.”
Theo sits up, Liam going with himbut staying plastered to his side, “How’s your head?”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, thanksto you. And I’m no longer seeing double. There was never any nausea either.”
“I still think you should go tothe hospital,” Corey says, “just to be safe.”
“I’m not going in an ambulance,”Mason says.
“I’ll drive your car then. Butyou’re going.”
“Do you want to go with them?”Theo asks Liam.
Liam looks torn between wanting togo with his best friend and stay with Theo. Mason makes up his mind for him,“Dude I’m fine. Well maybe not right now. But I will be. It’s nothing serious.You two should go home and talk. If anything changes I’ll have Corey call you.”
The others leave, sending happyglances back at where Liam and Theo are once again sitting on the grass.
“I’m sorry,” Liam says once theothers are gone, leaving the two of them alone, “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t know why you’re apologizing,”Theo tells him, “a witch put a spell on you to make you forget. That’s hardlyyour fault.”
“Yeah but I… I accused you ofmaking me sleep with you to protect that pack. What I said…”
“I know you didn’t mean it,” Theosays, pulling Liam closer, “I know that, okay? Sure it sucked having you notremember me, well the person I am now. But I knew those things you said weren’tcoming from you, not really. As far as you knew I was the same Theo that youput into Hell all those years ago.”
“Yeah but we got past that and Ihad to go and drag it back up,” Liam says.
“It’s always going to be there,”They says, “I’m never going to be able to escape my past. But that’s okay. Itreminds me of how lucky I am to have what I have now. Of who I want to be.”
“Good,” Liam says, then abruptlychanges the subject as he looks towards the sky, “The sun’s about to set. Doyou think we can stay here and watch it?”
Theo smiles, kissing the top ofLiam’s head, “Of course.”
As the sun sky starts changingcolor Liam speaks again, “The witch had it right, you know?”
“Had what right?”
Liam looks up at him, a smallsmile on his face, “You are what matters most to me.”
Theo smiles, leaning in to kissLiam, “You are too.”
#thiam#thiam fanfic#my fanfiction#i said it would be up tonight and here it is#it got a lot longer than i planned#established relationship#memory loss#angst#happy ending
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Chapter 23 - The Beginning and the End of Everything (Finn Balor)
@wrestlewriting @wrasslin-x @thegenericluchadora @thewriterformerlytaggedas@fan-fiction-galore @anerdysouthernbelle @spot-of-bother @amaranthine-reign@baleesi @flnnbalor @smuppies @sarahmatthews7 @daintymissdevitt@newjapan @corey-renee @running-ropes @balorsomega @karleedaniels27@kazuchika @ileana0300 @alexahood21 @ohcristimhookedonhavocimsodunne@fembxt @heelturn-timesten @kaitlynwwefan @50shadesofadamcolebaybay@50shadesofkennyomega @chasingeverybreakingwave @thyestean-feast @thecandicej @devittsbalor @sp00kylesley @danahart @sietefinns@kaydee-kayyyy @powerbombshell @swedish-strong-style @blondekel77@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @nickysmum1909 @houndofjustice-imagines @wwesmutdonedirtcheap @wweximaginesxd @indywrestlinglover-life @mandi512 @kakakatey @ourscratcheddreams @sleeplessandcynical @badame124 @thevixeniris
“How do I look?” Gemma asked one last time as the limousine stopped, the driver putting the car in park and exiting.
“Like I said…you look delectable,” Fergal eyed her. She’d chosen a floor length black dress with a gold belt and straps, and an exposed back. At first she wanted to wear something that looked like a nun’s habit but he managed to convince her out of it. He was trying every day to make it known to her that despite the “new body” she always harped on about, she was still attractive and sexy; still allowed to feel like a million bucks. She had looked at herself in the mirror for a good ten minutes with the dress on. When she made a quip about gold being her colour anyway, he knew she’d chosen the dress.
They posed on the red carpet for a few pictures before a handler ushered them inside. Upon entering the building they were met with a few more photographers, taking informal pictures of them before Gemma had to do the media scrum.
Fergal watched as she looked around the room, mentally counting the amount of reporters lined up interviewing hockey players. He squeezed her hand to get her attention. “You alright?”
Before Gemma could answer him, her name was called loudly from beyond the media scrum. Gemma turned her attention away from Fergal, trying to find the voice that had called her name. Fergal watched as Gemma’s face lit up. “John!”
A good looking man in a very well tailored suit speed walked towards her, engulfing her in a giant hug. Fergal noticed the media pass around his neck sandwiched between their bodies. “God, I’m so glad I get to see you before the ceremony!” the man exclaimed, letting go of his hug but still keeping his hands on her arms. Fergal was watching closely. “How are you? How’s everything?”
Gemma shrugged her shoulders, a giant smile on her face. “Everything’s good. You know. Could be better but it’s still good.”
“Making the best of a shitty situation.”
“As always.”
Fergal stood awkwardly watching the interaction before the man looked his way. His hands dropped from Gemma’s arms. “You must be Fergal,” he said, extending his hand. Fergal shook it politely. “I’m John Patterson. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Fergal nodded his head. “How do you know Gemma?”
“We’ve worked together in the past,” Gemma answered for him. “John works for the Leafs now,” she looked towards him. She backhanded his arm playfully. “Are you head of PR yet or what?”
“I’m working on it,” John blushed. “But speaking of, make sure you stop by Patti for us so we can get an interview with you – lifelong Leaf fan and all,” he turned to point out the reporter in the scrum Gemma would need to speak to. “Will I see you at the after-party?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, good. I’ll come find you,” he hugged her again. He turned to Fergal. “It was really nice to meet you, man. I’ve heard so much about you. But I’m working tonight, so I’ll catch up with you at the after-party.”
“Yeah, cool, nice to meet you too,” Fergal said, John leaving halfway through the sentence.
Yet another man in a suit approached them, this time much older. “Ms. Fitzgerald, are you ready? You’ll begin just as Mr. Bergeron moves on.”
“Yes sir,” Gemma nodded her head, flattening out her dress.
Fergal knew that was the moment where she’d be gone for at least fifteen or twenty minutes and he’d be left alone in the background. He knew he would have to ask her the only question that was currently on his mind. “That John guy, you said he worked with you before?”
“Mhm.”
“Where? Hockey Canada?”
“Uh, not entirely.”
“Well, where then?”
Gemma gulped, wishing the first reporter would call her over. She saw Patrice Bergeron moving along to the second reporter. “You remember how I told you I’ve only really had one serious boyfriend before you?”
Fergal’s heart fluttered for a moment – not in the good way. “That was him?!”
“Mhm.”
“That’s your ex-boyfriend? He works for the Leafs?”
“Mhm.”
“Wait…” Fergal replayed the conversation. “Why did he say he’s heard so much about me?”
Before he could say anything else, the older gentleman approached them again. “Ms. Fitzgerald, you may go ahead to the media scrum now.”
“Gemma.”
“I’ll be back.”
“Gemma,” he said sternly, but she left him there to process what he just heard and ask himself a million more question he’d have to wait to get the answer to.
He watched her every move as she made her way through the scrum. In that time, his brain was on overdrive trying to come up with some answers. So, she had an ex-boyfriend who worked in the hockey world. He knew she had one; she just never specified who he was or what field he worked in. Now Fergal knew. John was attractive. A ‘Suit’ type. Slightly older than Gemma but of course, younger than himself. Anyone Gemma knew would be younger than him, Fergal reasoned. He was ten years older than she was. He was an old geezer. And it was possible (was it clear?) that they still kept in touch. How else would John know she was with him? Nobody mentioned it on WWE programming. He never tweeted out any pictures of them together. She didn’t tweet out any pictures of them together. This was their first official event together. He didn’t even hug her during his return match, at her request. Unless he knew because of Fergal’s attendance at the Leafs game where they honoured Gemma. But they weren’t even together then. Did she tell him over text? Over phone call when he wasn’t around? What was that conversation like? Why did she even feel the need to tell him? Why -----
“You alright?” Gemma’s voice interrupted his spiralling train of thought. “We should go sit down. It’s just through there. We’re in the fourth row.”
Fergal didn’t want to wait any longer for answers. “What happened with you and John?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why’d you guys break up?”
Gemma tugged at his arm, pulling him through the black curtain so they were alone in the area between the media scrum and the main area, where nobody would hear what they were talking about. “We were just on different paths,” she began, looking at him. “I was traveling a lot and then he got the job with the Leafs. There was never any ill will or anything. It was very mutual, and we knew it had to be done. We were very mature about it.”
“That’s why you two still talk.”
“Yeah. He’s a good guy. There aren’t many like him in hockey – at least in the offices. He doesn’t let his position get to his head. That sort of thing.”
Fergal calmed down considerably. There was no way he was going to completely freak out. She was so calm about telling him. And there was no way he was going to ruin her night at the NHL Awards by getting angry with her. John did seem like a pretty levelheaded guy. And if he was good enough for Gemma to date and still keep in touch with, he would be good enough for Fergal. “So I shouldn’t be worried about him?”
“Oh no way,” Gemma scoffed. “He’s married to his job now. He wants to be like, head of PR for the Leafs by the time he’s thirty…he’s a career man. Always was, really. He’ll be one of those guys that doesn’t settle down until he’s in his late thirties or early forties.”
“Like me.”
Gemma smiled. “Like you.” She leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “You don’t have anything to worry about Ferg. He’s great but he’s not Fergal Devitt level great.”
The NHL Awards were fun for Fergal. Though he was in a different environment than what he was used to and felt a little bit out of his element, he was enjoying the ambience and ceremony. The more important thing was that every time he looked at Gemma, she looked like she was having the time of her life. He absolutely loved seeing her so happy. Throughout the night she had hockey players – guys she loved and respected and probably watched on TV – coming up to her and telling her how much they loved her. Fergal could tell it was surreal for her. Every time one left, she’d squeeze his arm and dig her nails into his skin. She’d tell him who the person was, as if he would know how much weight their words and praises had on her. ‘That was Joe Sakic, Ferg.’ ‘Ferg, that was Sidney Crosby. Sidney fucking Crosby. People say I’m the female him.’ ‘Holy mother of God, Fergal. Mark Messier! Mark Messier!’
Gemma received a standing ovation from everybody when she went out on stage, and Fergal knew she was trying very, very hard to keep her emotions in check. To be given an ovation in a room full of your peers was a lot to handle. He could tell, too, that one of the cameras panned right to him, standing and clapping along with everyone else, but at that point he didn’t care. He was there for Gemma and Gemma only. If hockey writers and reporters wanted to speculate about who he was and do some digging, he didn’t care – he was there to support his girlfriend. That was all that mattered to him, and that was all that should matter.
Gemma said a few kind words before presenting the Hart Trophy some young guy a guy named Connor McDavid. It was about five minutes before he’d see her again, and by that point it was the end of the show. Everybody in the arena began to leave for the afterparty, which is exactly where he and Gemma were headed for a bit before calling it a night. He knew she would want to mingle with everyone so he made sure to have an extra shot of espresso to stay awake.
As they began to make their way out of the T-Mobile Arena, both Gemma and Fergal both heard an extremely loud ‘GEMMAAAAAAAAAA!’ from behind them. Gemma spun around quickly, only to see P.K Subban running towards her. Her face lit up immediately as he picked her up and spun her around.
“PK!” she squealed as she set him down. “About time I saw you!”
“I had to surprise you! Look at you in this dress, girl,” he gave her the up down. “Did you choose this or did your boyfriend over here?” he nodded his head towards Fergal.
“Hey, be nice,” she pointed her finger at him comically. “And for your information, I chose this dress all by myself.”
“You must be the infamous PK Subban,” Fergal chimed in, completely taking Gemma by surprise. She had no idea how Fergal knew who he was. Bless him, but he was completely clueless about hockey – as clueless as she was about wrestling. “I’ve read a lot about you.”
“I hope you’ve only read the good articles,” PK quipped.
“You bet. One of my best buddies is from Montreal and he told me about your donation to the children’s hospital. You’re the fucking man, PK.”
PK put his hand over his heart solemnly. “Hey man, it’s my honour to do stuff like that, you know. You understand completely, don’t you Balor?”
Gemma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Fergal knowing who PK was, bringing up his donation to the Montreal Children’s Hospital; PK bringing up Fergal’s wrestling name? “Are you stalking my boyfriend, PK?”
PK rolled his eyes. “I don’t stalk your boyfriend, sweetheart. My little cousin is obsessed with him,” he focused his attention back to Fergal. “He’s got the bodysuit and everything. I had to buy it for him for Christmas. He wouldn’t shut up about it and now he won’t stop wearing it.”
Fergal couldn’t help but laugh. He always found wrestling in the most unconventional of places. “Well in that case, he should get a little too sweet from me.”
PK’s eyes bulged out of his head as he whipped out his phone. “Dude, he’s gonna freak. Next thing you know we’re gonna be doing a buddy cop movie together.”
“PK --” Gemma tried to interject.
“I’ve already thought about this – what about something simple like Subban and Balor? Or do you want to be first? Balor and Subban? Who’s the good cop and who’s the bad cop?” he chatted as he took the selfie.
“PK --”
“Ooooooh dude, what about a sitcom? Like the odd couple? Hey could you get John Cena to make a cameo?”
“Pernell-Karl,” Gemma emphasized his full name. “Stop scaring my boyfriend.”
“I’m not scaring him!” PK defended himself. “He loves the idea.”
“Hey PK, let’s go!” another voice shouted from within the crowd.
“Hey listen,” PK put his hand on Fergal’s shoulder. “Anytime you’re in Toronto with this one over here, you let me know. I know people who can get the pilot script going in no time.”
“PK! Let’s go!”
He disappeared into the massive crowd of people as Fergal continued to laugh at the prospect of them in any sort of TV show together. Judging by how well their brief meeting went, any hypothetical time they’d spend together would drive Gemma nuts. “I love that guy,” he chuckled.
“How do you even know who he is?” Gemma asked, shaking her head.
“Hey, I do my homework.”
At the after party, Gemma was having the time of her life. She milked her drink for a while, only because so many people were coming up to her and talking to her. Some conversations were jovial while others were more serious – some even whispered or talked in low, hushed voices so no-one else would hear. Gemma would nod along secretively. Fergal wondered what they were saying – but then again, he’d know the second they got into their hotel room.
It was only when they were alone together, briefly, that Fergal noticed her eyes go wide for a very brief second. She immediately looked down and away from whatever she had been looking at.
Fergal looked behind him. Was it PK again? Was it someone else she idolized? “You alright?” he asked.
"Don’t look now…but…do you see that woman behind you? In that tight bandage dress?"
He looked behind him immediately and saw exactly who Gemma was referring to. "Yeah..."
"That's her. That's Amanda Robinson."
Fergal tried to remain calm. He really did. But at the mention of that name, he felt his blood begin to boil. He took one good look at her and promptly decided she was the absolute ugliest woman he'd ever seen in his life. Sure, she was conventionally attractive to some, but knowing what she had done to Gemma, knowing how she had no remorse, that she practically bragged about it and was still allowed to step foot on the ice made her the ugliest woman in the world. No apology. No acknowledgement of wrongdoing. Nothing.
"Want me to get Becky on her?" he asked, his jaw tight.
"That sounds tempting, but I'll pass. She's not worth it."
“I ought to go over there and give her a piece of my mind,” Fergal said through clenched teeth.
“Ferg.”
“I mean it. She fucking injured you, Gemma. What is she even doing here?”
“I don’t know, but please don’t.”
“This is your night.”
“Technically it’s Connor McDavid’s night.”
Fergal looked at her. “You are the best god damn female hockey player of your generation. Don’t you ever forget that. She can show up here and try to get attention but nobody, nobody, not the least her, is ever going to change the fact that you’re the best. Fuck, you’re probably better than half the guys here.”
Gemma couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Thanks.”
“I’m stating the truth. You’re the best Gemma. That’s what’s going down in the record books.”
Gemma was tired as she answered questions for a room full of reporters the next morning. There would later be a luncheon for everyone involved in the ceremony last night, especially for those who won awards. Gemma had been invited and thought it was a nice way to cap off the weekend. She wasn’t told about the press conference beforehand, but she participated nonetheless.
It was very different from the last press conference she held, to say the least. At the last one, of course, she had to announce how she couldn’t play hockey again. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do. And to do it in front of a room full of people? That made it even worse. Things were different now, but she still felt slightly uncomfortable. Usually when she did these, it was because of a good game or a win in an international tournament. Now, instead of questions pertaining to her game, she was getting questions about her ‘retirement’. She asked them specifically not to call it a retirement. She wasn’t retired. She was twenty-six, for heaven’s sake. No twenty-six year old should be retired.
“Ms. Fitzgerald, I’m from the Vancouver Sun. I was wondering if you saw Amanda Robinson at the ceremony last night?”
Uncomfortable murmurs made their way through the room. What was this douchebag trying to do? “No, I didn’t see her.”
“Did you hear the remarks she made?” he asked again.
“No.”
“May I have permission to play the recording?” he asked, but barely waited for Gemma’s answer. He pressed play and a reporter’s voice filled the air, asking about what Amanda thought about Gemma presenting the Hart Trophy.
“She looks good though. I mean, I thought she was pregnant at first, but when I was told she wasn’t I figured her body just filled out,” Amanda’s voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “I saw her still limping from her injury tonight, which is a shame because by now she should be walking fine.”
Gemma felt like her entire body was on fire. She tried to maintain her composure, to not let the room full of press know how angry she was getting, but she rolled her eyes slightly. It was the only action she actually wished got caught on camera. She figured there was no more front to put up. No more grace for the sake of Hockey Canada; no more polite attitude for the sake of her spot on the team.
“Any response?” the reporter asked.
“You can tell Amanda Robinson I’m still limping because it’s heavier to carry gold around the neck than silver.”
#finn balor#finn blalor fic#finn balor imagine#finn balor fan fic#finn balor fan fiction#finn balor fanfic#finn balor fanfiction#wwe#wwe fic#wwe imagine#wwe fan fiction#wwe fan fic#wwe fanfic#wwe fanfiction#baeoe series
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Silent Treatment - Nolan Holloway
Requested by the lovely @froygutierreez “can i request an imagine/one shot of where the reader is liam's younger sister and she has a small crush on nolan? like nolan had always liked her more than she likes him. anyway, and when he and gabe beat up liam, she doesn't talk to him for a while and nolan just keeps trying to apologise? when they do talk, they confess their feelings and have been a secret thing since then? ( im doing this for a story/rp thingy and may need some inspiration! )”
Warnings: Swearing, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of anxiety, death, and an extreme range of emotions.
Word Count: Just over 14k. (This got out of control. I could not. stop. writing.)
Note: The continuity, especially as far as it goes for time of day/general cycles of daylight and night, in S6 was a damn mess so I tried to make it a little more continuous for the sake of everyone reading this. There are still some time frames that don’t make much sense so please forgive, I am doing my best. Also, the reader in this is Liam’s twin sister. And this title made more sense before I actually wrote this whole thing but I’m sticking with it.
My phone was resting on the sofa next to me while I scrolled through Netflix to find a new movie to watch. I’d already watched a few romcoms throughout the day. I didn’t have much better to do since I was throwing up and running a fever, which effectively stopped me from going to school.
A quick succession of text notifications came up so I dropped the tv remote and picked up my phone to read them.
They were all from Corey and Mason.
I opened them up, expecting to see some “hope you’re feeling better” messages but that wasn’t the case. They had both texted me saying that Liam had been in a fight at the end of the day. More specifically, that he’d been beat up by two guys from the lacrosse team.
I immediately tossed the blanket from my lap, stood up, stuffed my feet into a random pair of sneakers, and went to get into my car.
There was a possibility that if I showed up at school after being called out sick that I could get accused of not actually being sick and then end up in trouble but I really couldn’t be bothered to care.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed most of the cars were gone. Mason’s car caught my eye and then I noticed him and Liam standing next to it.
I parked in the spot next to Mason and got out, immediately running over to my twin brother. “Li, what happened? Are you okay?”
There was an absurd amount of blood on his face and I was furious.
“I’m okay, Y/N. I’ll heal.” He said. “You don’t have to worry.”
“The hell I don’t! Who did this?” I asked.
He didn’t respond but I could tell that Mason wanted to tell me.
“Why didn’t you at least defend yourself?”
“They were trying to get me to shift.” Liam stated.
My eyebrows flickered up. “What?! Who? How do they know?”
Liam explained what had happened with Brett and Lori, how he’d shifted in front of people, about the new hunter in town.
“Why didn’t I know about this before?” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest.
“It’s safer for you that way.”
My brother was the werewolf, not me, but I all but growled at him anyway. “If your life is in danger, it involves me. Don’t ever try to hide something like this again.”
He huffed and leaned against the side of Mason’s car. “Fine.”
“Now, tell me who did this.”
“Y/N, leave it alone.” He groaned.
I turned to Mason and glared. “Tell me. Now.”
He crumpled quickly. “Gabe and Nolan.”
At the sound of Nolan’s name, I felt my jaw go slack and my hands begin to shake. I knew Nolan, I’d thought he was my friend. We had a few classes together and we sometimes studied together in the library. We never saw each other outside of school but we had quite the habit of flirting. He was cute and smart and funny. But suddenly everything I thought I knew about him was gone.
Before I spoke, Mason did. He explained to me what had happened, how they’d basically just taken turns punching him until Coach Finstock broke it up.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“Principal’s office.” Mason said, as though it should’ve been obvious.
I nodded once. “Take Liam home while I go take care of this.”
“You’re kind of scary when you’re sick.” Mason muttered.
I narrowed my eyes. “I can get a lot scarier too. Please, just take him home.”
Mason agreed and I took off into the school, ignoring Liam’s shouts telling me not to do anything.
Gabe and Nolan were just walking out of the principal’s office when I made it to the hallway.
“Hey!” I shouted, drawing their attention as I stalked towards them.
They both stopped and stared, seeming more than a little surprised to see me coming at them.
“You started this, right?” I asked Gabe. “You threw my brother on the floor?”
He didn’t respond but I noticed a small smirk flicker across his face.
I walked the last couple of steps towards them, fisting my hand in the taller boy’s shirt and yanking him down so that he was closer to my height. My voice was shaking when I spoke, our faces only an inch or two apart. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but if you ever touch him again, I will gut you.”
“Promise?” He teased.
The hand that wasn’t fisted in his shirt went up to grasp him by the jaw, fingertips digging harshly into his skin. “Do you really want to find out?”
The venom in my voice even surprised me.
Gabe’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a second and he didn’t have a witty comeback.
I shoved him away from me and he stumbled backwards a couple of feet. “Go home, Gabe.”
When he disappeared down the hall, I turned my attention back to Nolan.
“As for you,” I pointed one finger at him and he immediately stepped backwards, hitting the lockers behind him, “I thought I could trust you.”
His mouth moved as he tried to sputter out a response but I merely cut him off.
“You’re a liar.” I stepped closer to him. “Don’t come near my brother, don’t come near me, don’t come near any of our friends.”
Even without wolf-hearing, I knew Nolan’s heart was racing in his chest.
“You’re a coward.” I said, giving him a shove that slammed him against the lockers. A bang echoed down the hall and I stepped away from him, turning to leave as tears threatened my eyes.
I left the school and headed home.
Later that night, and for several days after, I got multiple texts from Nolan. He tried to apologize, begged me to talk to him. Whenever he tried to talk to me in the halls or in class, I stared right past him, not reacting to a single thing he said.
No matter what he said, it didn’t change what he did. It didn’t change that he was there at the sheriff’s station with the rest of the hunters, another incident that I had not been informed of until it was all said and done. Rumors kept swirling around after that, ones about Nolan having something to do with Edgar’s death.
He showed up while I was digging my biology book out of my locker. He leaned against the locker next to me, seemingly waiting for me to acknowledge him.
I checked my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the inside of the door and even read a text, all while Nolan stood there.
“Are you going to talk to me ever again?” He asked.
I didn’t respond and I could tell that he was starting to get annoyed. When I shut my locker and headed down the hall towards class, Nolan followed after me. “Y/N, come on. Please just talk to me.”
Still, I refused to answer him.
He must have realized that this was going nowhere and he stopped following me. I was a few feet ahead of him when I heard him speak again, his voice sounded broken. “The silent treatment, really? At least yell at me!”
When I saw Sydney at the end of the hall, I called out to her and she greeted me with a smile before we made our way to class.
I was involved in the next part of the plan. Mason and I had gone to round up a bunch of fake supplies, making sure Nolan saw us, and he followed us to the zoo, just as we were hoping.
When two other hunters showed up, Liam and Theo were listening while they talked to Nolan. When they didn’t believe him, I watched in horror as Liam and Theo started an only half-fake fight to draw attention.
My fingers were laced behind my neck and I was facing the ground, walking in a circle when we noticed someone approaching the spot where we were hiding.
I peeked around the corner and saw Nolan walking around with a crossbow in his hand.
Liam and I kept peeking around to watch Nolan when Theo warmed us that if we didn’t stop, we were going to get caught. Neither of us listened and finally, he grabbed both of us and hauled us away but the sound of our footsteps caught Nolan’s attention.
Theo and Liam were arguing again, this time about Liam’s anger. I was trying to tell them to quiet down and keep moving so that we wouldn’t be found but it was almost as if they didn’t hear me.
I was second away from slapping both of them in the face when I heard an all too familiar voice just a few feet behind me.
“They’re up here!” Nolan called.
Before I could even turn all the way around, my brother had lunged, tackling Nolan right over the small ledge we were standing on.
I could hear them below, I could hear my brother growling and I could hear Nolan, the way his voice was shaking. I could see him point the crossbow unsteadily at Liam. I wanted to run down there and stop them from killing each other but Theo had a tight grasp around my midsection.
I was crying, fighting against him, demanding that he let go.
“If you go down there, he could shoot you too.” Theo said.
I shook my head, still trying to force my way out of his grasp. “No, he wouldn’t do that. Not to me. Please, Theo. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. And I know Liam’s angry. I know what happened here, I know why he’s angry.”
Theo was listening to every word I said but not responding. His grip hadn’t faltered once.
The weight of the situation, everything I felt, came crashing down on me in that moment. My shoulders slumped and I stopped trying to fight him off. I fell against him but he kept me on my feet. “That’s the difference between us, Theo. You can hear Liam’s heart, you can smell his anger, but I don’t have to do that to know. We’re twins, I can feel all of it right now. Please, let me help him.”
He finally caved, letting go of me but watching to make sure I didn’t immediately take off running. “Let me do it. Stay behind me, I’ll stop him.”
I nodded once before we ran down to where they were. Liam had Nolan against the wall. Nolan was crying as my brother repeatedly punched the stone wall beside Nolan’s head. I could hear the crunch of bones breaking in his hand when they made contact.
Then the claws came out and I thought I see Liam freeze for just a second, almost like he was thinking about killing him. And Nolan knew too.
I wanted to yell at Liam to stop but I couldn’t get any words out. I was frozen and speechless. I was terrified of what I was about to see.
Theo walked up behind Liam and knocked him out with a single punch.
My heart hammered in my chest but I could finally move again.
Nolan looked up at Theo and then over to me, his eyes widened when he saw the look on my face.
“Run.” I breathed, begging my voice not to quiver.
When Nolan took off, Theo lifted my brother off the ground and carried him to his truck, I followed behind, asking if it was really necessary to knock him out. Theo didn’t answer so I assumed that he believe that it was, in fact, really necessary.
We’d been driving for a while when Liam finally woke up again. I sat forward from my spot in the backseat, grabbed Liam’s chin and turned him to face me. I examined his face to make sure everything had healed. When I was satisfied with what I saw, I sat back and stared out the window. Theo and Liam were talking in the front but I was too tired to listen.
I ended up falling asleep a few moments later. I didn’t wake up again until Liam woke me. I was surprised to find myself in my bed.
“What’s going on? How’d I get here?” I asked, rubbing my face and leaned up on my elbows. It was too dark for me to be able to read the clock on my wall but it felt like it was either very late or very early.
“I carried you up here. That’s not the point right now.” Liam rushed. “Someone shot up Scott’s house.”
I sat up instantly. “What? Who? Is everyone okay?”
He shook his head and I noticed tears in his eyes. “Li, what happened?”
“Scott’s parents, Lydia, and Mason were all hurt.”
I didn’t know what to say so I grabbed my brother by the shoulders and pulled him in. I wrapped my arms around him and tried to convince myself not to start crying too. “Everyone’s alive though, right? Everyone’s going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. They all have to go in for surgery.” He whispered and I felt tears drip onto my shoulder.
“Should we go to the hospital?” I asked.
He shook his head. “We can’t. Scott’s going to be there, and Malia too. But we have to go to school.”
“We have to go to school while our best friend has a bullet inside him?” I said incredulously.
“We can’t run from this anymore. I’ve got to find out who did this.”
He pulled away and I sat back a little. “What makes you think we can find that out at school?”
“It could’ve been Gabe or Nolan. If not, I’m willing to bet they know who did do it.” Liam explained.
I nodded. “Right. Well, what are we supposed to do after that? Are you going to kill someone, Liam?”
He looked up at me, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t kill people, Liam. No matter how much you might want to, no matter what they might do to you. You have to try to solve things peacefully.” I said.
“Are you sure my sister and not Scott’s?” He asked.
I stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes. “Ha. You know I’m right, Liam.”
“Y/N, you manhandled Gabe and Nolan after they kicked my ass.” He said.
I shrugged. “I’m human. And I wasn’t going to kill either of them.”
“You told Gabe you would gut him.”
I threw my hands up angrily. “What the hell? Were you eavesdropping?”
He nodded sheepishly.
“Oh my god. You’re unbelievable. When are you going to start understanding that I can take care of myself?” I whined.
“As soon as you start understanding that I can.” He shot back.
I groaned and flopped back against my pillows. “Okay, enough bickering. What’s the plan for school?”
“I’ll talk to Gabe if you can talk to Nolan.”
My heart stuttered for a second and I prayed he didn’t hear it. “Why do I have to talk to Nolan?”
“Because he was your friend.”
I shook my head. “I am not speaking to Nolan.”
“You need to talk to Nolan.”
I screeched out an agreement because I knew we were getting nowhere. “Fine! Jesus, whatever. I’ll fucking talk to Nolan.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome. Now get the hell out of my room, if we’re doing this, I need some sleep and so do you.” I said, pulling the blankets up around my shoulders and getting comfortable again.
Liam left after muttering a goodnight and I fell back asleep faster than I anticipated.
I woke up a few hours later when the alarm on my phone started blaring. I shut it off and quickly got out of bed before going through my normal morning routine.
When Liam and I left for school, he ran me through the plan again as though it were necessary.
I tried to talk to Nolan several times throughout the day but it seemed that he was now the one ignoring me.
When classes got out, I spent a little bit of time in the library, wondering if Nolan might show up there but he never did. I was walking back to my locker to grab one of my books when I heard footsteps coming from another hallway. I abandoned my locker and quickly ran and hid around the corner.
Gabe and Nolan came into view, talking in hushed tones. I noticed them heading in the direction of the locker rooms so I followed them as quickly as I could. As soon as they went into the room and the door clicked shut, I ran over and pressed my ear against the door.
“They wanted to know who shot up Scott’s house.” Nolan said.
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell them.” Gabe defended.
“Well how do you know who did it?” Nolan asked.
I didn’t hear a response.
“Gabe? What did you do?”
“I did it for you.”
My heart started pounding. I want to run in there and beat the shit out of Gabe but it wasn’t worth blowing my cover. He wasn’t worth it.
“You shot up a house for me?!” Nolan said, sounding surprised. “What are you trying to do? Get me killed?”
It’s a good way to do it. I thought.
“I’m trying to keep you alive. I told Monroe it was you so try being a little grateful.”
“You told her it was me?” The more Nolan spoke, the more scared he sounded.
“Why do you think you’re still alive?”
I heard footsteps approaching the door and I assumed it was Gabe. I took off back down the hall at a sprint. I didn’t stop until I got to my locker. I dropped my backpack to the floor, leaned back against the cold metal, and slid down to the ground. I wasn’t sure why I’d started crying but I didn’t know how to stop.
My sobs were so loud that I didn’t hear someone coming towards me.
“Y/N?” Nolan asked, scaring me enough that I flinched against the wall.
I looked up at him, trying to glare at him through my tears but failing miserably. “What do you want?”
He knelt beside me. “Are you okay?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re asking if I’m okay?” I rolled my eyes and used the sleeve of my sweater to wipe tears from my face. “You beat the shit out of my brother, your psycho friend shoots up Scott’s house for you; and you ask me if I’m okay?”
He didn’t respond, he only looked at me sadly.
“Honestly, of all the things I thought you were, Nolan, I didn’t think stupid was one of them.” I sneered.
“I’m sorry!” He blurted.
I laughed humorlessly. “That’s rich. You pointed a crossbow at my twin brother. And you expect a simple ‘I’m sorry’ to make everything better? Did you know there were humans in Scott’s house when Gabe decided to go Taxi Driver and just start shooting? Both of Scott’s parents got shot, Mason got shot. Humans! The people you’re allegedly so concerned with protecting.”
Again, he didn’t speak. He only stared at the ground.
“That could’ve been me. I could have been in that house. I could have ended up with a bullet in my chest. Do you think Monroe would give a shit? Or Gerard? They don’t care about saving human lives, they only care about killing supernaturals.” I slammed my head back against the lockers. “You really don’t get it. Scott, Malia, my brother – they’re the ones trying to keep you alive. To Monroe and Gerard, you’re disposable.”
His eyes flickered up to me and I could see the realization starting to set in. It seemed like maybe, just maybe, I was starting to get through to him.
“I liked you. God, I thought you were so cute. And funny.” I laughed again. “But now this. It’s ridiculous but I feel so betrayed. Tell me something, Nolan. If I were the werewolf instead of Liam, would you have pointed that crossbow at me?”
Tears sprung up in his eyes and he started to reach for me, his hands freezing in the air before touching me. “Y/N, I… No. I would never do that. Please believe me.”
“But you kind of did, didn’t you? Threatening Liam – hating Liam – is threatening me, too. We are twins. Can you understand that connection? You don’t get to like me and hate my brother. The Dunbar twins are a packaged deal. So if you’re on my team, you’re on his team too. But if you’re against him, you’re against me. And it’s time that you pick a damn side.” I finished, standing up from my spot on the floor. I brushed dirt from my jeans and lifted my backpack onto my shoulder.
He stood beside me. “I – I’m scared.”
I nodded. “I know. And I know why. Do you? It’s not just the wolves. If you wanna find out, if you want to understand, if you want to pick a side, you have my number.”
He smiled shyly. “O-Okay.”
I walked down the hall, towards the door. I’d made it halfway down the hall before he spoke again.
“Did you actually mean it?” He called, his voice sounding more confident that I’d ever heard before.
“Did I mean what?” I asked, turning to face him.
“About liking me?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Nolan. I really did.”
“Then help me.” He pleaded. “Help me understand. Show me what they won’t.”
I smiled a bit. “Okay. Take me to your place and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
Nolan walked towards me quickly. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”
I followed him out to the parking lot and into his car. We didn’t talk much while he drove but the silence was far from uncomfortable.
There were no cars in the driveway when we pulled up to his house and it was quiet when we went inside.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” He asked, shutting the door behind me.
I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.”
“We can go up to my room, if you want.”
I followed him upstairs and to the end of the hall. His room felt oddly comfortable, all soft colors, a large bed, a desk covered with papers and pens, his lacrosse stuff laying in one corner.
“You can sit wherever you want.” He offered. “The bed’s soft but if you’re – if you’re not comfortable, you can sit in the desk chair.”
I dropped my backpack by the door and moved to sit down on the end of his bed.
He sat beside me, leaving enough space that made me aware that he was trying incredibly hard not to freak me out.
“So, what can you tell me?” He asked.
I shifted to face him. “God, where should I even start?”
“Start with Scott.” He prompted.
I nodded and began my speech. I explained how Scott was bit, about how he became an alpha, how incredible and rare it is for someone to become a true alpha. I explained how he bit Liam to save his life. I told him about how Scott saved my life when I was fifteen. I told him about the Beast, how we were all trying to stop it, how it was a product of the Dread Doctors and not a real werewolf. I told him about the anuk-ite, the way it heightens your fear and feeds off of it.
“So that’s why everything’s been so much worse? Why everyone is terrified?” He asked.
I nodded. “It’s not just the wolves, the coyotes, the banshees. It’s that thing. It’s making your fears even worse and Gerard and Monroe are using that fear to manipulate you. They’re scaring the shit out of teenagers, putting guns into your hands, and trying to tell you that the people who are trying to help you, are the ones you need to kill.”
Nolan groaned and fell back on the mattress, his legs still hanging off the end.
“Why did Theo stop Liam that day at the zoo?” He asked.
“For a lot of reasons, Nolan. He didn’t want Liam to become a killer, and neither did I. He knew that if he didn’t stop him, that I would’ve. Theo didn’t want me to get hurt, and I think he didn’t want you to be hurt either.” I explained.
“He doesn’t seem so bad.” Nolan admitted.
I laughed. “He wasn’t always like this. Scott still doesn’t trust him. But I do.”
“Even after what I did, you would’ve stopped Liam from hurting me?”
“Yeah, and I would do it again. Not just for Liam, either, but because I don’t think you deserve to die. Do you deserve a solid punch in the face? Maybe. But to die? Absolutely not.”
“Aren’t you just as scared?” He asked, sitting up again.
I nodded. “Yeah, all the time.”
“So why can you be like this,” his eyes searched mine for answers, “while I’m like this?”
“Fear affects people differently. For some, it makes them angry. Others shut down. I used to get angry, Liam and I have that in common.” I chuckled at the end.
“How did you stop being like that?”
My eyes focused on his, such a beautiful shade of blue. “I learned how to channel it into something else: compassion. I didn’t want other people to feel like I did. I tried to protect Liam and my friends and everyone else. I knew there was a chance people would react like this if they found out so I helped them keep it a secret. And whenever people did find out, I tried to help them to understand. I showed them that they’re not all bad. Are there creatures out there that thrive off of killing humans? Yes. But there are more out there that are like Scott, ones that want to protect you and me. There’s something that Lydia taught me once. ‘Not all monsters do monstrous things.’”
“I wish you would’ve told me this a long time ago.” He breathed.
“I wish you didn’t have to find out about this world the way you did. I wish we could’ve done more to protect you.”
“Are you part of the pack? Even though you’re human?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I am. I don’t have super strength or speed, I can’t heal that fast, I can’t predict death, but I can do other things. I’m smart, I care, and I do know how to fight.”
“So, that’s your super power? Caring about people?”
I laughed. “I think so.”
“What power do you wish you had?”
I didn’t hesitate before I responded because ever since I’d learned about the supernatural, it was the one thing I wished I could do. “To be able to take away pain.”
The way Nolan smiled at me then made my heart pound in my chest.
“Why don’t you ask me what you really want to?” I asked.
His eyes skimmed over my face, noticed my body language, and then flickered away before focusing back on my own eyes. “Y/N, I really like you. I have for a while now, ever since we had classes together last year. I’ve always thought you were beautiful and funny and smart…. And way out of my league.”
“That’s not a question.” I whispered.
“Can I kiss you, Y/N?”
I smiled. “I was hoping you would.”
He turned to face me more and placed his left hand on my face, the pad of his thumb tracing over my cheek as his eyes gazed into mine.
I noticed, in that moment, just how beautiful he was. His eyes were crystal blue, light freckles decorated his skin but the ones on his nose – darker than the others – were perfect, and his lips looked soft and inviting.
He must have noticed the way I looked at his lips because he closed the gap between us and let our lips touch. They were just as soft as I thought they would be.
I melted into the kiss and let my face lean more into his hand.
He pulled away just a fraction of an inch and I could feel his breath against my lips. “Was that okay?”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him towards me until our lips met again.
His free hand moved to my waist and his fingertips gently pressed into the skin, keeping me close but not so tightly that I couldn’t move away if I wanted to.
But I didn’t want to move away. I moved closer to him and my hand traced from his collar up to the back of his head and my fingers toyed with his hair.
The sound of my phone ringing startled both of us and we separated with a gasp but I couldn’t convince myself to move away from him or to take my phone out of my pocket.
The ringing stopped but started again just seconds later.
“You should get that.” Nolan chuckled, pecking my lips one more time before moving away.
I pulled the phone from my pocket to see Liam’s face flash across the screen. I hit answer and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, Liam, what’s up?”
“Where are you?” He asked immediately.
“With a friend.” I said quickly. “We were studying. Is everything okay?”
“We need to talk. Should I come pick you up?”
“No, no. I’ll get a ride. Are you at home?” I asked.
“Yeah. Um, hurry, by the way.”
I sighed but agreed. “Okay, I’ll be there soon. Bye.”
We hung up and I turned my attention back to Nolan. “I need you to take me home.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
We didn’t talk much again while we were in the car but he did hold my hand while he drove and it felt nice.
When we pulled up in front of my house, I took off my seatbelt and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for listening.”
He smiled. “Thank you for teaching me.”
I nodded. “Anytime.”
I didn’t want to get out of the car but I knew Liam probably heard us pull up and he would get suspicious if I didn’t come inside soon.
“Listen, we need to come up with some sort of plan. We’ve got to do something about all of these hunters, for all our sake. We’ll talk tomorrow?” I whispered in case Liam was trying to listen.
“Yeah, you can come to my house again.” Nolan offered.
“Bye, Nolan.” I said, opening the car door and stepping out.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before I closed the door.
When I got into the house, my brother was sitting on the sofa. He’d clearly been waiting for me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, taking a seat next to him.
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped. He leaned towards me and sniffed at my shirt. “Who were you with? I know that scent.”
I pushed his shoulders away. “What the fuck, Liam? I know we shared a womb but that doesn’t mean you get to sniff me.”
“Why do you smell like a boy?”
“I told you I was with a friend. I have friends who are boys.”
“You have a boyfriend?” He asked, his voice raising.
I sputtered. “Do you even listen? I said I have friends who are boys, friends who are of the male gender. Why are we even talking about how I smell? I thought you had some important information to share with me. Let’s get to that.”
Thankfully, he dropped the topic of the scent on my shirt. “You know how we found out the anuk-ite has two faces?”
“It’s not just Aaron. There’s another half.” I groaned.
He nodded. “Yeah, and it’s someone like us, like me. Another shapeshifter.”
I ran my hands over my face before letting them fall to my lap. “Okay, so do you have any idea who it is?”
“No, not really. We just know that we have to find them before the two halves merge.” He explained.
“Okay, what happens if they merge?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. We just know it can’t be good.”
“Of course. Nothing is ever good. It’s never positive. For once, why can’t we have some creature that brings happiness and love and positivity to the world instead of something that comes rampaging through the town, causing nothing but death and destruction? Why does it feel like we’re all five minutes away from being brutally murdered?” I realized I’d started yelling and I was thankful we were the only ones home.
Liam frowned. “I wish I could’ve kept you out of all this.”
“Why couldn’t you have just been the more dominant twin and absorbed me in the womb?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “I know I asked you before if you’re sure you aren’t Scott’s sister but now I’m starting to wonder if it’s Stiles instead.”
I glared but my face softened quickly. There was no time to argue, we had a much larger problem at hand. “Moving on… What else do we know about the anuk-ite?”
“Scott and Malia found this phone on a body in the woods and there’s a voicemail on it."
I cut him off. “You guys stole a phone from a dead body in the woods?”
“Malia did.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That’s not the po- You know, never mind. Just… Continue.”
“Well, one of the bodies was stripped down to the muscle and you could still see the pack tattoo. It was a werewolf. That has to be the other half of the anuk-ite. If we can figure out who the person is that left the voicemail, they could lead us to its other half.”
“Okay. That sounds a lot simpler than it actually is though.” I said.
“Which is why you’re going to help.” He pulled a flip phone from his pocket and held it up. “Maybe you’ll recognize the voice.”
I kicked my shoes off and pulled my legs up onto the sofa, tucking them underneath me. “Okay, let me hear it then.”
He flipped the phone open and played the voicemail.
It was a woman’s voice and she sounded older. I was sure I’d heard her voice before but I couldn’t tell where.
When it ended, Liam immediately played it again. And then twice more after that.
“It’s someone at the school.” I said suddenly.
“How do you know that?” He asked.
I nervously bit at my lip before I answered. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s just memory. I hear the voice and I can imagine being at school, staring at a chalkboard, being bored out of my mind.”
He played the voicemail one more time and I saw something click in his mind. “I think I know who it is!”
I sat up straighter. “Well, out with it then!”
“I think it’s Mrs Finch.” He stated.
“Play it one more time.” I said quickly.
He did and I could finally match a face to the voice. Liam was right and I knew he was.
“That’s her. That’s absolutely her.” I nodded. “There’s no question. It’s Finch. We’ve got to do something at school tomorrow. Try to prove that she’s a werewolf.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure? What about the other students? The hunters? What if we end up just painting a target on her back?”
“Honestly, I think they probably already know about her. I mean, think about it. If she is a werewolf, she can probably smell that you are. And I mean, when Gabe and Nolan jumped you… You and Mason said that she didn’t do anything? She didn’t stop them?”
He nodded once.
“Okay, maybe she was scared? She knows that Gabe and Nolan are working with the hunters and she doesn’t want to give them anymore of a reason to come after her.” I suggested. “I know this could make her a target but think about it. If we can find out who she was calling, who that other body is, then we can find out who the other half is. If we can stop the halves before they merge, if we stop the anuk-ite, the war is over. If people aren’t scared anymore, then she should be safe. You should all be safe.”
“You’re right. If people aren’t scared anymore, they’ll stop trying to kill all of us.”
I let out a small sigh. “Right. So how do we prove it?”
Liam stared at the ground for a moment before his head snapped up. “Wolfsbane.”
“Can’t that kill her?” I asked.
He shook his head and shifted in his seat. “No. Well, yes, but no. If we can expose her to just a little bit of wolfsbane, she’ll react to. She might shift but we should be able to tell.”
“Sounds good. You should call Scott and tell him. Maybe he’ll have another plan if this one doesn’t work.” I said. “Oh, and speaking of plans, I have one. We don’t know how long it’s going to take to find the other half of the anuk-ite or what it’s going to take to stop it. So, until then, I think I know how we can get information about what Gerard’s army is doing.”
“Really?” His sounded almost excited. “What’s the plan?”
I frowned and picked at my nails. “Well, I can’t exactly tell you that yet. But please, just trust me. I have to look into it a little more but I know someone who might be willing to help us.”
“Is this the person you were hanging out with earlier?” He asked.
“Yeah. I know you’re not going to like it when you find out, but just trust that I’m working on something, okay?”
“Y/N, don’t do anything that could get you into trouble. Please.”
I folded my arms across my chest before speaking. “Liam, listen. Whether you like it or not, I’m part of this now. I am fully aware of the danger that I could be getting myself into, okay? But I’m not going to sit by and do nothing.”
He seemed to accept even though I’m sure he didn’t want to.
I stood up and started making my way towards the stairs before stopping halfway there. “You never told me what happened with Gabe.”
“I didn’t get anything.” He admitted.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Well, that’s okay. Because I did.”
Liam jumped up from his seat immediately. “From Nolan?”
I shook my head. “Not exactly. I heard the two of them talking in the locker room. Gabe was the one who shot up Scott’s house. Nolan had nothing to do with it.”
“You’re sure?” He asked.
“Positive. But let’s not worry about that yet. Tomorrow, we deal with Mrs Finch. If we can’t find the other half of the anuk-ite then we get Gabe.”
“Deal.”
I nodded once. “Goodnight, Liam.”
My brother got up early the next morning to go talk to Scott so I texted Nolan and asked him if he could pick me up and we could talk on the way to school.
When he pulled up in front of the house ten minutes later, I was already waiting.
“Good morning.” He said as I got into the car.
“Hi.” I smiled but my face dropped when I noticed the dark circles around his eyes. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
He chuckled at my bluntness but shook his head. “No, not really.”
I sighed and reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, Nolan.”
He cut me off before I could say anymore. “No, you don’t have to apologize. I should. I’ve been a complete ass.”
I nodded. “Hmm, yeah, you have.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Seriously, I want to make up for it. I want to help.”
“Well, that’s great! Because I have a really fantastic idea of how you could help. But it’s also really dangerous. And now that I think about dangerous it is, I’m not so sure that I want you to do it.” I rambled.
He squeezed my hand gently. “Just tell me.”
“I was going to suggest that maybe you…” I trailed off, not being able to force the words out. “It’s just… We don’t know anything about what’s happening with…”
“If you want me to be a spy, I can be a spy.”
My shoulders slumped. “I really don’t want you to but I don’t know how else we can do this. There’s no way that we can go at this blind.”
We pulled into the school parking lot then so I knew we didn’t have much more time to talk.
“Monroe is calling a meeting. Everyone’s going to be there. I’m not sure what the point is yet but it must be important. I’ll go and get all of the information to you tomorrow.” Nolan offered.
“No! You can’t tell me.” I said.
His eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, I mean, you can tell me. But Liam doesn’t know you’re on our side yet or that we did that whole kissing thing. Anyway, you need to reach out to Liam. Text him, ask him to meet you somewhere, tell him you have a plan and that you have information. He may not like it but he’ll have to listen.” I stopped to take a breath. “After that, he’ll bring me in on it. Whatever information you give him, he’ll want me to hear too. Then we make our next move.”
“What’s the plan I’m supposed to tell him that I have?”
I chewed on the corner of my lip. “I didn’t get that far. I was hoping you might have an idea. Maybe you should wait until after the meeting to decide. You’ve still got time. Just… Whatever you do, make sure the plan is something you’re willing to actually go through with in case something else falls through. And make it believable.”
“What if he listens to my heart? He could know that I’m lying.”
I ran a hand through my hair and was surprised to realize that my hand was shaking. “He’ll just think you’re nervous or scared. If the plan is believable and you just seem freaked out, he should just go with it. And don’t tell me that plan first, I’ll have to be genuinely surprised when Li tells me about it.”
Nolan grabbed the hand that I had just run through my hair and squeezed both of my hands tightly. “Breathe. It’s going to be okay.”
“Are you telling me that? Or yourself?” I asked, noticing the fear in his eyes.
“Both.” He laughed nervously.
I smiled sweetly at him before looking around to make sure no one was watching us. When I didn’t see anyone, I leaned over the center console and kissed him softly.
When I pulled away, he tried to follow.
“I’ll see you in class, okay? I have to go find my brother now.” I said before hopping out of the car.
I waved to Nolan as I hurried towards the building in search of Liam. When I found him, he was standing outside of Mrs Finch’s classroom with Scott.
“Hey, Y/N.” Scott smiled when I walked up.
“Hi!” I smiled back. “Any new developments?”
Liam unzipped his backpack to show me a transmitter like the ones Argent used. “I have wolfsbane in my pocket, too.”
“Isn’t that uncomfortable?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It’s powder and only a little bit. I’m fine unless I breathe it in.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take it?”
“No, you’ll take the transmitter.” Scott said.
“Okay, fine.” I unzipped my bag and took the transmitter from Liam before sliding it down between a couple of notebooks and zipping the bag up again. “The transmitter is plan A, I’m assuming?”
Both boys nodded.
I adjusted the straps of my backpack. “Well, alright then. I’m off to English for now. I’ll see you in bio later.”
For the rest of the day, I found it hard to pay attention during my classes. Most of the time I was sitting there with a notebook open in front of me and a pen in my hand but instead of copying notes, I found myself thinking about every little thing that could go wrong with every plan we had.
When I sat down in my math class, I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice Nolan take the empty seat in front of me until he spoke.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“Huh?” My head snapped up and a I took a deep breath. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking. Overthinking, maybe.”
His eyes bored into mine and I noticed him reach a hand towards me before stopping himself. “I don’t know how to help while we’re here.”
I forced a smile onto my face. “I know, Nolan. But it’s fine. I promise I’ll be okay. Just stick to the plan, alright?”
He nodded before turning to face the front of the room just as the bell rang.
The teacher started writing something on the board about trigonometric identities which I already understood so I tuned out the droning of his voice. I pretended to be copying the notes while I was really brainstorming ideas on how to take down Gerard’s army if we weren’t able to stop the anuk-ite before it was too late. The only semi-reasonable idea I had – bombs – was too deadly of one to entertain for much longer than twenty seconds.
When the bell rang at the end of class, I shoved my belongings back into my bag and hurried out of the classroom after muttering a quick goodbye to Nolan.
I ran to my locker to exchange a few books before making my away across the building to Mrs Finch’s room.
When I got there, Liam was sitting at a lab table by himself so I went to take the empty seat beside him. Before I could get there, Gabe took the seat.
I stood in front of Gabe, arms folded across my chest. “Move.”
He didn’t acknowledge me and before I could speak, Mrs Finch did. “Y/N, there are plenty of other seats. I’m sure you can find one.”
I faced her and tried to smile. “Of course.”
There was an empty chair at the lab table next to Liam’s so I sat there, dropping my bag to the floor beside me.
The bell rang and Mrs Finch called the class to attention by telling everyone to put their phones away.
When she turned away from the board, she seemed surprise to see Liam sitting there.
“I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again.” She said.
“Can’t let my GPA go down just because I got beat up in class.” He said, shooting Gabe a look.
Mrs Finch muttered something but nothing of any meaning came out. She then noticed Gabe typing something on his phone and took it away from him.
I wondered if he’d sent someone a text telling them that Liam was back.
When Finch turned her attention back to the board to start teaching, I looked over at Liam who quickly stuffed a pair of earplugs into his ears before giving me a nod. I reached down to lift up my backpack and pretend I was looking for something inside it.
I clicked on the transmitter and the top glowed red, confirming that it was on. I noticed Liam flinch slightly and another girl a few rows back covered her ears before running out of the room. Mrs Finch, however, didn’t react.
She turned away from the board and her eyes scanned the room. “Where did Rebecca go?”
I clicked off the transmitter and dropped my bag back to the floor.
My brother mumbled something, his mouth covered slightly by his hand and I knew he was talking to Scott who was out in the hallway.
When Mrs Finch called three volunteers to the board, a boy sitting behind me stood up and Gabe did. They both walked to the board, followed by Liam a second later. When Liam got to the board, he shoved Gabe to the side so he could stand there.
I had to stifle my laugh when I saw how pissed off Gabe looked.
My brother scribbled something on the board which was completely incorrect before pulling a folded up piece of paper out of his jacket and sprinkling wolfsbane over the eraser sitting at the bottom of the board.
Mrs Finch told Liam that he was doing the problem wrong and to sit down.
When she picked up the eraser to wipe away what Liam had written, she had to have breathed in some of the wolfsbane.
She coughed once and Liam and I could both see her shaking slightly. It looked like she could be close to shifting. Instead, she only sneezed.
I groaned internally and I felt my whole body droop in disappointment.
When I was sure we were getting nowhere, she dismissed the class.
Everyone was confused as to why but we all gathered up other stuff anyway.
“Not you, Liam.” She called. “You stay put.”
Our eyes met across the room.
I dropped my bag back to the floor. If Liam wasn’t leaving, neither was I.
“Y/N, you should go.”
I walked over to Liam and stood by his side. “Liam stays, I stay. We’re a packaged deal, Mrs Finch.”
“I get it. I know what you’re trying to do.” She said, her attention turned back to my brother.
“You do?” He asked.
“You’re upset.” She walked around her desk. “You want to get back at me.”
“Upset?”
“B-Because I stood by and I did nothing. For what Gabe and Nolan did to you. I’m your teacher and I should’ve protected you.”
“No!” Liam said quickly. “No, I-I mean, yeah. But no, that’s not why I’m here.”
Her brows furrowed and eyes narrowed for a millisecond.
“I know about your pack.”
Her forehead creased. “My what?”
“I know what you are.”
“Liam, I…” She looked away before looking back and I analyzed every little movement, her body language, the tiniest idiosyncrasies.
“You’re a werewolf.” He said, cutting her off.
The quirk in her brows gave her away before she responded. When she spoke, it was almost a laugh. “A what?”
“A person who turns into a wolf on a full moon.”
She laughed again. “Oh, god. Right. And I can probably only be killed by a silver bullet.”
“No, no, that’s not totally true.” I said.
“Are you on drugs?” She asked, stepping closer to us.
“Huh?” Liam and I chorused.
Mrs Finch stepped closer still. “I know your father is a surgeon at the hospital.”
“No, I’m not drugs!” Liam began.
“Mrs Finch, you’re a werewolf!” I finished in the same tone.
“Hydrocodone?” She asked.
“You have a pack.” He muttered.
“Oxycodone?”
“You said it on the phone.” I jumped in.
“That’s enough.”
Liam looked like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “You can’t hide what you are.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you really need to go now. You need to leave this classroom Right now. You have to leave my class. Go!” Her voice rose almost to a yell when neither of us moved to leave.
A quiet beep behind me caught our attention and I heard the sound of her voice on the voicemail. When we turned around, Scott was standing there with the phone in his hand.
After a few seconds, she grabbed the phone from Scott’s hand and snapped it shut. “Where did you find this?”
I knew she wasn’t the anuk-ite but I was sure they would lead Liam and Scott to who it was.
“Y/N, you should go.” Liam said quietly.
“What?” I snapped. “Why?”
“If it shows up here, the other half, if they merge… We can’t protect you. You have to go.”
I shook my head. “No, Liam. I’m not going.”
“Please.” He begged. “For once, please just listen to me and get out of here.”
“No!”
Liam grabbed my shoulders tightly. “Please. I don’t know if I can keep you safe.”
“I’m part of this now, Liam! I have been ever since you told me what you were. You need me now too.”
He groaned. “Then at least go wait in the car so that if we need to get out of here fast, you can be our getaway driver.”
I rolled my eyes as he shoved his keys into my hand. “I can’t believe this.”
I didn’t say goodbye before grabbing my bag and walking out the door.
When I got to Liam’s truck, I opened the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. I stuck the key into the ignition but didn’t turn it on yet.
I wanted to know what was going on inside, I wanted to know what everyone else was doing. It didn’t know where Theo was or Mason or Lydia or Malia. There were so many other plans that were in action that I didn’t know about.
I wondered if Nolan was already at that meeting Monroe called. I wondered if he was safe.
I waited in the car for what had to be hours. It was starting to get dark and I hadn’t seen or heard anyone come or go from the school.
My hands started shaking and I felt like I was on the verge on an anxiety attack. I didn’t know if Liam was safe. I wanted to run inside to find him but I was scared that if I left the truck, something else might happen. If he was safe, we might not be able to get away. My breathing grew heavier and I leaned forward, resting my head against the steering wheel and trying to calm down but I couldn’t.
I tried every technique I had but I couldn’t stop freaking out. My heart was pounding in my chest and tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt like I might pass out. But that was when I realized it.
The anuk-ite, at least half of it, was close.
From the school, I heard this shrieking sound that made goosebumps come up over my whole body. Minutes later, I heard the same screaming.
I didn’t know what the hell was going on but I turned the key, hoping that Scott and Liam would come running out at any second.
A girl came running out of the building and towards the library. Liam followed soon after her.
Lydia’s car screeched to a halt next to the truck and I almost screamed. I jumped out of the car at the same time as her and Malia. “Lydia! Malia! What are you doing here?”
“They’re both here. Both halves of the anuk-ite. If they merge, you’ll die if you look at them. We have to get Scott and Liam now.”
“Scott is in the school still. But Liam just ran into the library.” I said.
Right after I said my brother’s name, I heard him roar from inside the library and my heart felt like it dropped into my stomach.
I had to ignore the feeling of dread and I took off in a dead sprint towards the library doors. Lydia followed me while Malia went to find Scott. What we didn’t notice was the group of three men with guns walking into the school.
The moment I got inside the library doors, I saw Liam standing there, facing away from me. There was the body of a girl laying lifeless on the floor and it felt like I was on the verge of a heart attack.
Lydia and I grabbed Liam by shoulders and pulled hard, leading to the three of us toppling through the doors and onto the sidewalk outside.
“We have to run!” Lydia said.
We got up and followed her when she ran into the school.
“What are you doing?” Liam asked. “Quinn and Aaron merged, we have to stop them.”
“You can’t” I said, grabbing his arm and pulled him along.
“You can’t look at it. If you do, it will kill you.” Lydia informed. “We have to find Scott and Malia and get out of here.”
We turned down one hallway and I froze. There were two bodies on the floor, two men with guns. But they weren’t just dead, they were turned to stone.
“That’s what it does.” I breathed. “If you look at the anuk-ite, that’s what happens to you.”
“How do we fight something we can’t look at?” Liam asked.
Lydia shook her head slowly. “I have no idea.”
“We have to learn to fight without our eyes.” Scott said as he walked up behind us with Malia.
“Fight without seeing, that means…” Malia trailed off and looked at Scott.
“Deucalion.” Lydia confirmed.
While I’d never actually met Deucalion, I had heard plenty of stories about him. And from the stories I heard, he didn’t seem like the kind of person that I wanted to associate with. Guys who call themselves “Death, destroyer of worlds” don’t often make good company. But I knew he was blind and damn near impossible beat despite that so if he would be willing to help, then I might have to introduce myself.
We all went home that night feeling a wide range of emotions. Mine mostly consisted of fear, anger, and pure exhaustion. I wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and sleep for two weeks. But when I got into my bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. I tossed and turned for hours.
I finally fell asleep around five a.m., only to be awoken by my brother when he came barging into my room less than two hours later.
The sound of my door being flung open and slamming against the wall jarred me from my sleep and I sat bolt upright in bed. The pocket knife that I kept under my pillow was open and in my hand within a second.
Liam, however, did not seem at all bothered by my weapon. “Get up.”
I glared him but I did not lower the knife. “Even though I now know that you aren’t an intruder, I’m still willing to stab for you the extremely unpleasant wake up call.”
“Then get it over with so I can heal and change clothes before we have to leave.” He sighed.
I rolled my eyes and clicked the knife shut. “What do you want? I never get up this early and you damn well know that.”
“Your buddy texted me.” He said, tossing his phone into my lap.
I picked it up and checked the screen. There was a text message from Nolan asking Liam if he would meet him in the library before class.
“What are you going to say?” I asked, tossing the phone back to him.
“I was going to ask what you think?”
I pretended to think about it for a second even though I had spent most of my time awake during the night deciding what I would say in this kind of situation. “I think you should meet him. I mean, I know him a little better than you so just… Believe me when I say that I don’t believe he’s actually a bad guy. He’s like everyone else, he’s acting out of fear. And you’ve seen him, he was anxious enough before the anuk-ite. Who knows? Maybe he can tell us something we don’t know, something about Monroe or Gerard.”
“If you want me to go, then you’re coming too.”
I faked being annoyed. “Whatever, fine. Get out so that I can get dressed.”
When he left, I got out of bed and headed towards my closet. I pulled out a pair of jeans, a black tshirt, and a pair of boots. I was too tired to try to look any nicer than that. The fact that I’d chosen jeans over leggings or sweats was a feat in itself.
I grabbed my brother’s lacrosse hoodie from my desk chair and pulled it over my head before I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs.
“Are you ever going to give my hoodie back?” Liam asked around a mouthful of cereal.
“Absolutely not. And have same manners, please.” I said as I grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl and began peeling it.
I only managed to eat half of the orange before the anxiety I’d been feeling made me want to throw up. I tossed the remainder into the trash before pulling out my phone to text Nolan.
The plan is a success so far. We’ll see you at the library in a bit. I typed and hit send.
When Liam finished his cereal, he placed the empty bowl in the sink and we took off.
“Let me do most of the talking.” Liam said when we pulled into the school parking lot and got out of the truck.
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “And why should I do that?”
“Haven’t you noticed that he turns into the physical embodiment of the heart eyes emoji whenever you talk to him?” Liam asked. “If this is going to be successful, we need you not distracting him with your female ways.”
“What the hell does that mean? Female ways? That sounds incredibly sexist, Liam Dunbar.” I smacked his arm.
He stopped walking and I followed suit. “What I’m saying is that he is a 16 year old boy. Every shred of attention that you give him just fuels his hormones.”
I rolled my eyes aggressively and continued walking. “As if you were not a 16 year old boy last year. As if you didn’t act the same damn way with Hayden.”
“That’s not the point.” He defended.
I decided to drop it, knowing that Liam and I could argue for hours at a time and end up with no clear winner.
We walked into the library and found a secluded spot off to one side so that when Nolan showed up, we’d be able to talk more privately.
I was about to text Nolan to tell him we were there when I heard the doors open again and I peeked between a couple of shelves and saw him coming inside. I noticed that a lot of people were shooting weird looks at him and I could see how much it bothered him.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Liam said when Nolan got closer. “You know why they’re all looking at you like that?”
“They’re afraid of me?” He asked.
“They’re afraid of what you’re going to say, and who you’re going to say it to.” Nolan eyes focused on the ground when Liam spoke. “Nobody trusts you anymore.”
“Then why are you here? How come you texted me back?” Nolan asked.
“’Cause maybe this time I’ll kick your ass.” My brother said, beginning to get in Nolan’s face.
I grabbed his elbow and pulled him back a few inches. “Li, don’t. Please.”
“I said I was going to help. I can show you something. Something I know you’re going to want to see.”
“Where?” Liam asked.
“A-At the hospital.” Nolan’s voice quivered and I couldn’t tell for sure if he was acting or if he was actually feeling freaked out.
I noticed my brother turn to look back at me. His eyes narrowed and I felt like he was getting suspicious of how quiet I was being so I decided that I needed to up my own performance a bit. I still had to keep up the lie of not trusting or liking Nolan. “Why can’t you just tell us? Why should we trust you?”
Nolan’s voice was still shaking slightly when he spoke again. “Because I had a plan.”
“You? You have a plan?” Liam asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I..” He stopped to take a deep breath before continuing. “I’m gonna show you what you need to see at the hospital. Then you’re gonna kick my ass so Miss Monroe thinks that you had to beat the information out of me.”
I felt my own heart speed up and since I was standing a bit behind Liam, I mouthed my disdain at Nolan. Are you fucking serious?!
He didn’t respond obviously but I know he noticed.
Liam seemed to think about it for a second before nodding. “Yeah, I’m good with that plan.”
I immediately wanted to slap both of them. “No, what the fuck? We can’t… No one needs to get the shit beat out of them today.”
“Miss Monroe might come after me if it becomes obvious that I’ve switched sides.” Nolan said.
I threw my arms up in the air, holding them there for a second before bringing my hands down on top of my head. “I can’t believe this shit.”
Neither boys responded to me and I felt like I wanted to let out a scream that would make Lydia proud.
“Are we going now?” I asked.
“We can’t skip class.” Liam said.
I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “As if that’s ever stopped either of us before. As if that ever stopped Scott and Stiles. Come on, it’s like being part of the pack means that you have to skip school at least once a week.”
“No, we aren’t skipping school again, Y/N. We’re seniors, we have to stay alive and graduate on time.”
I rolled my eyes. “I literally cannot believe this. I’ll see you in biology unless I decide to drop out, move away from here, and start raising cows in Montana before then.”
I left the library without saying goodbye to either one of them and headed to my first period class.
The day only seemed to drag on and I felt increasingly frustrated with every passing hour. By the last period, when I was sitting in biology with Liam, I was wiggling my leg and tapping my fingers almost constantly. I didn’t know what Nolan was going to show us but I knew it probably wasn’t good and I just wanted to find out so that we could move forward with the next phase of the plan.
When the final bell rang, we hurried out of the school, got into the truck, and followed Nolan to the hospital. Once we were parked, we all headed inside together.
Nolan was leading the way while Liam and I walked side by side behind him.
He opened the door to one of the waiting rooms and we went inside but he stopped Liam and I before we could completely round the corner.
“See that guy?” He asked, pointing to a male nurse who was talking to a little boy. “That’s why we didn’t come in front door.”
“Who is he?” Liam asked.
“He’s with Monroe. He was there last night. They handed him a gun like everyone else.” He then pointed to a blonde. “Do you see that, that nurse right there? She was standing right behind me. There’s more than you think and they’re not just hunters. It’s anyone and everyone who’s willing to pick up a gun. Last night they were teaching them how to use them, how to load clips, what to do if the gun jams.”
“Nurses?” I asked, leaning heavily against the wall.
Nolan nodded. “Everyone.”
“So this is what you wanted to show me? That people hate us? I could’ve figured that out on my own.” Liam was starting to get angry so I grabbed his arm and gave him a quick squeeze, just as a little reminder to try to stay calm.
“But it’s not just that.” Nolan sighed and placed his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Come with me, okay?”
A phone rang at the nurses’ station and the blonde turned to answer it.
“Now!” Nolan said in a hushed tone and we followed him across the room and down another hallway.
We took an elevator up a couple of floors. Before we stepped out, Nolan held his arm out to stop us. He looked around to make sure we were okay to go in and then let us follow.
We followed him through a set of swinging doors into a dimly lit room containing three beds. There was a man in each bed, all attached to an IV pumping a purple liquid into them.
“They brought them in yesterday.” Nolan told us.
“Who are they?” Liam and I asked.
“I-I don’t know, but they brought them in last night.”
I walked over to one of the IV bags and took a closer look. I immediately knew what the purple tinged liquid was.
“Do you know what that is?” Nolan asked.
“Wolfsbane.” I said, feeling my hands clench into tight fists. “They’re killing them slowly.”
Liam looked over at me. “What do we do? We have to do something.”
I shook my head. “I-I really don’t know, Liam.”
“I’m calling Mason.” He said as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
He walked towards the doors where he stood to talk to Mason while I walked around the room, looking at each man that was hooked up to an IV. I didn’t recognize any of them but I knew that they were probably suffering.
My hands were shaking and I had to force myself not to start crying. Everything was starting to feel like it was too much and I didn’t know what to do anymore.
Liam hung up the phone a minute later and Nolan spoke. “Okay. Uh, I’m going.”
“Whoa, whoa. What about your plan?” Liam asked and stopped him from leaving.
“Nobody saw you come in with me…” He said.
“So?”
“So, I don’t have to get my ass kicked.” Nolan said, an undertone of hope in his voice.
“That was the only part of the plan that I liked.” Liam said.
I walked over from where I was standing. Nolan seemed to have accepted what Liam said but I hadn’t. “Li, come on. Please be nice. He’s trying to help. At least now we have a little bit more information to go off of.”
“Go.” Liam said to Nolan and nodded towards the door.
Nolan chuckled and smirked before walking out.
Liam and I lingered for a minute.
“Mason and Corey are on the way.” He told me.
I nodded. “Okay, good. They can help us figure out what to do next.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I wanted to say no because I was afraid of what he would ask but I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Why do you suddenly seem like you’re protecting him?”
I played with a loose string on my sleeve. “It’s not just him. I’m trying to protect everyone, Liam. I’m tired of people dying and getting hurt constantly. I can’t stand it. And he’s a scared 16 year old. He made some mistakes but I don’t think you need to kick his ass when he’s here, putting himself at risk, trying to do something to help us. I could be in his position if I didn’t know all of the things that I know. If you weren’t my brother, if you weren’t a werewolf, we could be on the other side of this.”
My phone rang from my pocket, interrupting the conversation. When I checked, it was a text from Lydia. When I read what she said, my heart started hammering in my chest and I felt lightheaded.
“What is it?” Liam asked, hearing the change.
“Lydia. It starts tonight, the war starts tonight.” I said, putting my phone away before I dropped it. “We aren’t ready, Liam.”
We walked towards the doors and looked out through the windows. There was no one around, no nurses or doctors in the hallway. And suddenly the power cut out, leaving us in the dark for a few seconds before the emergency lights kicked on.
“I think this was planned. To get us here. You, me, Mason, and Corey. They’re trying to spread all of us out.” I said.
“Nolan.” Liam accused.
I shook my head. “No, Liam. I really don’t think it was him. Monroe and Gerard have been manipulating him, they probably figured out that he’s on our side now. They knew he would pull something like this.”
I pulled my phone out again, ready to text Mason and Corey to tell them to stay as far away from the hospital as possible but I had no signal. “Do you have service?”
Liam checked his phone and shook his head. “No, none.”
“They’re using a cell jammer, I think.”
He put his phone away. “We can’t leave yet. We don’t have a plan. I’m not letting you go out there and get yourself killed.”
I nodded. “Right. Okay, so, we wait a few minutes. See if we can figure something out. If not, we just – we just have to go for it.”
He agreed reluctantly.
We waited by the doors, looking to see if anyone showed up. And we were both trying to figure out what the hell we were supposed to do.
Liam turned around suddenly and I saw one of the men we thought were werewolves pointing a gun at him.
A shot rang out and I screamed, thinking for sure that the bullet was going to hit my brother.
It missed and before I could react further, Liam had grabbed the guy and thrown him through the doors. I watched as he went sliding into the wall and was knocked out when his head hit.
I followed Liam out of the room and to my left, I heard the sound of a gun being cocked. When I turned, I saw five men holding guns. Gabe was one of them.
“Let me do it.” He said, pointing the gun at Liam.
I stepped in front of my brother, blocking his body with my own. “Go, Liam. Get out of here.”
“Y/N, move out of the way.” Gabe said.
In that moment, I wished so desperately that I were a werewolf that so I could rip his throat out. “Fuck you, Gabe. If you want to kill Liam, you’re killing me first. And you better hope you do kill me because I swear to god, I’m hoping to live up to the promise of gutting you.”
I looked behind me for a fraction of a second to see if Liam had moved. “Liam, go, please!”
I heard him start backing up.
“Go ahead, Liam, run! It’ll be more fun that way.” Gabe spoke.
I began backed up, keeping myself in front of Liam.
We were almost to the wall and I didn’t know what we were going to do.
The elevator dinged behind us and the doors slid open. Liam grabbed the back of my shirt, roughly yanking me into the elevator and I fell to the ground, flattening myself out as they started shooting.
The door slid closed and I looked up to see that Theo had pulled Liam and I into the elevator before we could both be killed.
“What are you doing here?” Liam asked, breathing heavily.
“Was just asking myself the same thing.” He replied.
I could hear bullets still hitting the elevator doors when Liam grabbed me and helped me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” He asked. “You’re not hit are you?”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. “I’m not hit. But I’m not okay either. None of this is okay.”
He pulled me into his chest. “Hey, just calm down. We’ll get out of here. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”
I sobbed into his shirt and felt one of Theo’s hands on my back.
“We’re getting out of here.” Liam said. “Alive.”
I pulled away from him and wiped my face. I took a deep breath and gave him a nod. “You’re right. We’re getting out of here. And do you know why? I’m tired of being scared. And right now, I’m a lot more fucking pissed off than I am scared.”
Theo chuckled at my words. “I like this side of you.”
I wanted to laugh but I didn’t quite have it in me.
The sound of the bullets had stopped but I wasn’t sure if Gabe and the rest of them were gone. “Are they still out there?”
Liam nodded.
“Look, I’m not dying for you.” Theo said, speaking to my brother.
“I’m not dying for you either.” Liam responded. After a second, he continued. “But I will fight with you.”
“Okay. Let’s fight.” Theo said.
I watched as they both shifted, their eyes began to glow and the claws came out. “I-I can’t do that. What do I do? I can’t do anything.”
“Stay back.” They said at the same time.
Theo pushed me over to the side of the elevator so that when the door opened, I would still be protected.
He pushed the button to open the doors and as soon as they slid open, Theo and Liam ran out as gunshots rang out. A minute later, I could hear various blows landing but there weren’t anymore gunshots.
I peeked my head around and stepped out before the doors slid shut again.
One of the guys was on the floor and he reached for his gun again, he was about to take a shot when Melissa came around the corner with the stun gun Argent had given her and used it on him.
He dropped instantly and Nolan came around the corner next. As another guy moved to get up, Nolan grabbed his gun from the floor and used the end of it to hit him.
I looked toward the end of the hall and saw Gabe standing behind Liam and Theo, getting ready to shoot. I began screaming at them. “Get down!”
Melissa, Nolan, and I all dropped to the floor instantly while Theo and Liam tried to run towards us. Nolan scrambled towards me, pulling me underneath him and blocking me from the chaos.
When I finally looked up, Liam was fighting with Gabe, trying to wrestle the gun away from him. Someone else had come into the hallway, a man I didn’t recognize and he was holding a handgun in one hand and a walkie talkie in the other.
He said something into the talkie that I couldn’t understand and I tried to move to do something, to get the gun away from him but Nolan held me down. “Don’t. Don’t get in the way.”
I heard Monroe’s voice come over the talkie. “Shoot them! Shoot both of them!”
Nolan’s head shot up and he looked at the guy for a second before nodding to Melissa and I and getting up to move up behind him.
The guy opened fire and Liam dove out of the way. I saw one of the bullets go straight into Gabe’s chest and I felt more tears well up in my eyes. What bothered me the most was that he didn’t stop shooting, He kept sending more bullets right into his torso until Nolan hit him in the back of the head with a fire extinguisher.
I watched as Gabe dropped to the ground, not yet dead. He crawled his way over to the wall, groaning the whole time. He propped himself up against it while we all made it to our feet.
Liam and Theo had both been shot but were already starting to heal.
I walked ahead of everyone, watching how blood dripped from Gabe’s mouth, down his chin. His shirt was soaked and I knew he wasn’t going to make it. After everything I’d said, I realized I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have killed him, I couldn’t. And no matter what, he didn’t deserve to die like this.
“It hurts.” He choked out, his eyes meeting mine. “It hurts.”
Theo walked towards him while Nolan moved closer to where I stood.
Tears streamed down my face as Theo knelt beside Gabe, pushed his sleeve up his arm, and grabbed his wrist. I watched as their veins both turned black and Theo took away Gabe’s pain.
“Does it hurt anymore?” Theo asked.
Gabe shook his head and breathed out a quiet “no.”
“Good.” Theo said, lowered Gabe’s hand back to his lap as his eyes slid shut and he stopped breathing.
I felt Nolan stumble beside me a bit and I didn’t hesitate to wrap one of my arms around his waist to help steady him. We clung to each other, held each other up. And I didn’t even care if Liam didn’t approve. Nolan needed me in that moment, and I needed him.
After that, it was all over. There were no more gunshots ringing out. I didn’t feel as afraid as before.
My phone rang again and it felt awkward to answer it when Gabe was dead on the floor in front of me but I knew it was probably important.
It was Scott. “Y/N, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Scott. We’re all okay, I think. What about you? Is anyone hurt?”
Liam moved towards me while I listened to Scott’s response.
“No, not that bad. We’re all going to be okay. The aunk-ite is gone.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”
“We’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Soon.”
We said goodbye and hung up.
The sound of a voice coming over the walkie talkie belonging to one of the hunters caught our attention. It was Monroe asking for information at what was going on.
Liam picked up the talkie and pressed the button before speaking. “You lost.”
I almost laughed before turning more towards Nolan, wrapping my other arm around him.
He squeezed my shoulders tightly and held me to his chest. I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head.
“It’s going to be okay.” I whispered. “And we couldn’t have done it without you.”
Liam walked up behind me. “Is this who you were studying with?”
I pulled away and turned to face him. “It was. But we didn’t study. I helped plan a lot of this. I told him everything.”
Liam looked to Nolan. “Is this true?”
Nolan nodded and smiled down at me. “Yeah, she taught me everything I needed to know. She’s the one who told me to text you after that meeting.”
My brother shook his head but smiled. “I should’ve known you had something to do with this. You’re way too protective over this kid.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I kinda like this one.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. “Positive.”
He turned his attention back to Nolan. “I have claws. If you hurt my sister, I will use them on you.”
Nolan gulped. “Message received.”
“Play nice.” I said. “We might not be standing here if it weren’t for him.”
I stepped away from Nolan to hug my brother.
He held me tightly. “I love you.”
I smiled. “Love you too, Li.”
“You saved my life tonight.” He said. “Standing between me and those guys.”
“I would do it again tomorrow if I had to.” I assured him.
When we separated, I walked over to Melissa. She held her arms out and pulled me.
“Thank you for everything.” I said.
“Anytime, sweetheart.”
Mason and Corey had joined us so I pulled both of them in at the same time. “I love you guys. I’m happy you’re okay.”
Theo was the only person left. We locked eyes before I walked over to him. “And you…”
He frowned, probably thinking I would be unhappy with him for whatever reason.
“Thank you. You saved Nolan’s life, you saved my life, you saved my brother’s life. You took away Gabe’s pain. You’ve proved a lot of people wrong recently.”
His eyes went wide and he smiled. “Get over here.”
I ran towards him and he scooped me up in a hug.
“Thanks for always seeing the good in me.” He whispered.
“None of us are all bad, Theo. Not even you.” I said.
He released me a few seconds later and I smiled at all of my friends.
Nolan was gazing at me, one of the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen gracing his face despite the few tears that still lingered in his eyes and on his cheeks.
I grabbed his hand and laced our fingers together as we started making our way out of the hospital.
The moment we got outside into the cool night air, I turned towards him and placed my hands on his face. I stretched up onto my toes and kissed him. His hands landed on my waist as he kissed me back.
Liam cleared his throat from a few feet away. “That’s enough of that.”
Nolan and I both giggled as we separated.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I spoke again.
“We did it. We won this. We were scared out of our minds but we still won. We worked together, even some of us that we didn’t expect.”
My lungs pulled in the first steady breath I’d taken in what felt like weeks and I smiled as I finished speaking.
“We can go home.”
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It’s been hard out here for the NFL’s bird teams
Carson Wentz and the Eagles are off to a disappointing start to 2019.
The Eagles and Falcons have major questions to answer after a particularly bad week for our avian friends. And what’s up with the Cowboys’ slow starts?
Birds have had a rough go of it lately. To be honest, they’ve had a rough go of it since 1970, but none of us want to think too hard right now about how North America has lost 3 billion birds in five decades. We’ll leave the panic index for football matters because everything else can be too overwhelming.
This past Sunday, all five bird teams lost in the same week for the first time in at least a decade (there was one week in 2012 when they went 0-3, with two on byes). For some, it was business as usual (sorry, Cardinals). For others, it was their first loss of the year and wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. The Ravens fell on the road to the Chiefs and learned a valuable lesson about themselves, while the Seahawks always manage to get things figured out by the time December rolls around.
It was a little more concerning for the Falcons and Eagles, two teams that entered the season as possible contenders and are just 1-2 through the first three weeks.
Those aren’t the only teams we’re checking in on this week, though. I guess you could say the new panic index isn’t just ... for the birds.
The Eagles are tearing their fans apart!
Eagles fans, bless them, are a passionate flock. This is something we knew last year, when they booed the defending championship exactly one half into the new season. This is something we knew months before that following their Super Bowl victory. Hell, this is something we knew before many of us were even born.
So when the Eagles — a team some were picking to make it to Super Bowl 54 — dropped a home game to the Lions, the fans were unsurprisingly upset.
That includes everyone from an Ivy League dean of admissions:
Can’t stop watching this irate Eagles fan. pic.twitter.com/yzA3DYCgfJ
— Will Brinson (@WillBrinson) September 22, 2019
To a baby-saving hero:
Eagles fans have no chill In the middle of an eyewitness describing how people were saving babies out of a burning building, this fan brings up Eagles drops on @NBCPhiladelphia pic.twitter.com/RCLG5ZdNzw
— John Clark (@JClarkNBCS) September 23, 2019
Go birds.
The Eagles’ lone win of the season so far came against the still-winless Washington, the current betting favorite as the first team to fire its coach. Oh, and Philly was losing that game 17-0, only to rally for a five-point victory — at home.
On the other hand, the Eagles aren’t that far off from being 3-0 either. The margins in their two losses were close: four points to the Falcons on the road, and three points to the Lions. They could’ve won both games on their last possession, and maybe should’ve, if not for self-inflicted wounds like drops and penalties. They are also dealing with so many injuries that they canceled practice one day last week.
Still, Philly is two games back of Dallas in the NFC East standings, and the schedule doesn’t get any easier from here. In the next five weeks, the Eagles hit the road four times: against the Packers, Vikings, Cowboys, and Bills. Through Week 3, those teams are a collective 11-1.
Panic index: You know who else lost to the Lions in Week 3 to slip to 1-2? The 2018 Patriots. Maybe the jawn isn’t falling after all, Eagles fans. There’s still time to turn things around.
Here we go again with the Falcons
Following a disappointing 7-9 season last year, Atlanta was expected to bounce back in 2019 — perhaps even as a potential Super Bowl contender. Its potent offense — featuring the consistently underrated Matt Ryan and the NFL’s best WR, Julio Jones — returned with several new offensive linemen, and the defense was finally healthy again.
But early on, the Falcons look more like the same team from 2018, with injuries and penalties piling up and a lack of cohesion on offense. The Falcons are one of the most talented teams in the NFL, but they just can’t get out of their own way.
In Week 3, they lost to the Colts 27-24 on the road and despite clawing back, Atlanta couldn’t overcome a 20-3 first-half deficit. The bigger problem is how the Falcons keep falling into those holes, mostly due to undisciplined play. From The Falcoholic:
Mental errors are becoming far too common on a weekly basis for the Falcons. You can’t be dependent on converting third and long situations at a staggering rate every week. These careless, unforced penalties will usually come back to haunt any team.
Most of the biggest penalties were committed by the defense. On 16 penalties, the Colts picked up seven first downs.
The Falcons had a lengthy list of injuries after the game, none more costly than safety Keanu Neal’s season-ending Achilles tear.
Offensively, the entire unit is essentially being driven by Jones. Through three games, Jones has four touchdowns, and is averaging 88.3 yards per game. In fact, the Falcons wouldn’t even have a win this season if not for Jones’ superhuman efforts.
Ryan has done a good job of finding Jones when he needs to, but he’s almost thrown as many interceptions this year (six) as he did all of 2018 (seven), which certainly doesn’t help production on offense. Second-year receiver Calvin Ridley is also seeing a curious lack of targets, getting just one against the Colts.
The run game has to get a lot better than it has been early on, too. Devonta Freeman has just 129 yards and no TDs through three weeks. Backup running back Ito Smith has just 11 carries and is concussion protocol. That’s a lot of pressure to put on Ryan and the passing game week in and week out.
Right now, this feels a lot like the same old Falcons.
Panic index: Atlanta’s slow start is particularly concerning given who it has left on the schedule, which includes road trips to Houston and New Orleans, and home games against. the Rams and Seahawks. The offense has time to work out the kinks, and should be able to, based on its strong second half against the Colts.
But if the Falcons can’t clean up their mistakes, they could be out of the NFC South race quickly.
Slow starts are going to eventually bite the Cowboys in the butt
The Cowboys opened the season with an easy three-game slate against the Giants, Washington, and the Dolphins. They’re 3-0 and those three opponents are 1-8, collectively.
Dallas is averaging just over 32 points per game and is allowing just under 15. Everything is peachy keen, except the Cowboys looked pretty shaky early against the tanking Dolphins. At halftime, Miami trailed 10-6 and were even in position to take the lead before Kenyan Drake fumbled inside the Cowboys’ 10-yard line.
Eventually, the Cowboys — who are much, much more talented than the Dolphins — figured things out and cruised to a 31-6 win.
But Dallas had similar issues in the first two weeks. Both New York and Washington scored first to take 7-0 leads against the Cowboys, who then straightened themselves out in and won by double digits each time.
Those slow starts could become a problem, though, and soon. Dallas will face the 2-1 Saints and the 3-0 Packers in the next two weeks and can’t afford to keep stumbling out the gates. It won’t be as easy to pull off a comeback against actual contenders.
Panic index: The second quarter has been Dak Prescott’s best quarter over the course of his NFL career so far. He’s thrown 30 of his 76 career touchdowns in the second quarter compared to just 13 touchdowns in the first quarter. That lends some credence to the idea that the Cowboys have a slow-start problem.
Dallas is doing its best work in the third quarter in 2019, but thrived in the first quarter last year. There’s still plenty of time to channel its 2018 self and get out to faster starts.
Marcus Mariota’s not getting that nine-figure contract extension
Mariota’s been a mercurial figure through four-plus seasons with the Titans. The former No. 2 overall pick has guided Tennessee to winning records in each of the past three years and even has a playoff upset under his belt. He’s also never played a full 16-game schedule, ranked higher than ninth in the NFL in passing efficiency, or been selected to a Pro Bowl roster.
That pendulum swung hard to the negative side in Week 3. Mariota couldn’t find his footing on a rainy night in Jacksonville, throwing for 304 yards but needing 49 dropbacks to get there. He didn’t reach the end zone, but he was sacked nine times behind an offensive line that desperately misses Taylor Lewan (currently serving a four-game PED suspension).
The Titans only scored once in a 20-7 loss that dropped them to the bottom of the AFC South’s pecking order. They’ve totaled just 24 total points since their opening week upset of the Browns in Cleveland.
Once again, Tennessee faces a season in purgatory. The Titans are occasionally good enough to strike fear in the hearts of actual Super Bowl contenders, but not the kind of threat that can make noise beyond the first weekend of the postseason.
The source of the frustration and the heart of the team’s “just good enough to break your heart” status is Mariota, who is staring down free agency after the 2019 season. He was never quite consistent or eye-popping enough to earn the massive contract extension most quarterbacks selected in the top five do before their rookie deals run out. After the loss to the Jaguars, he might wind up searching for a new home next spring.
The Heisman Trophy winner has struggled to build a rapport with his wideouts, especially former fifth overall pick Corey Davis, who has just six catches and 12 targets through three games. No wide receiver has ever recorded a 1,000-yard season with Mariota at the helm. Through three games, only 69.6 percent of his passes have been catchable, per SIS. That number slots him right between Eli Manning and fellow 2015 draftee Jameis Winston toward the bottom of the QB rankings.
If he can’t find the extra gear he’s been searching for over most of the past four seasons, the Titans could be doomed to another year where the best they can hope for is nine wins.
Panic index: Taylor Lewan’s Week 5 return should help a little. Will it be the panacea this team needs? Delanie Walker doesn’t think so:
.@delaniewalker82 loves @TaylorLewan77 but doesn’t think his return in a week is going to fix everything for the #Titans. pic.twitter.com/C7iDry5lmh
— Paul Kuharsky (@PaulKuharskyNFL) September 23, 2019
And he’s probably right.
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The issue I have with Jake and Inna’s ‘Inspiration’ posts is that it’s the same stereotypical spiel that almost 99.9% of 'celebs’ and people with money, rich kids, people with dream jobs or situations they dropped on, people in financially well off and/or comfortable life styles or people who have no responsibilities, preach to the masses.They go on and on about freedom, happiness, to not worry bout life, to travel and 'expand your mind’, to go seek out the beautiful places of the world, to visit nature and so on, posting things like Inna’s 'Remove the I and want from 'I want to be happy’ and you’re left with happiness’.
Which is fine, they have every right to post and say what they like, but the truth of the matter is that people like Jake, Inna and other people who post things like this, often come from one of the situations above. People who post things like this generally have a good bit of wealth and a safety net in place and never have to worry about said safety net. We can’t begrudge them that freedom, especially if they’ve worked for it, like Jake has, however we can begrudge them the attitude that comes with it, because it is an attitude that is all too prevalent amongst people who do not have to worry about the foundations of their financial security, job security, etc.
That attitude is one which suggests you must travel, you must be carefree, you must not worry about money, your job, your home, your living situation, that to worry means you’re shallow and materialistic, vapid and money hungry and that to not do as their inspiring words suggest means you’re bad and not trying hard enough.
What they post is known as aspirational porn, which serves two purposes: One is to tantalize the viewers with a life they cannot have, and really want (Lets face it, who doesn’t want to be carefree, travel and have money?) and the second is to make the viewers feel like some sort of failure for not being able to have the same life style, yet still be drawn in and keep checking their posts.
It’s a way for the upper class, celebs and those in a cushy life style to pat themselves on the back for being able to do something that anyone with money can buy. Which is to have a comfortable life. They don’t have to worry about happiness because, despite what they try to lead you to believe, money does buy happiness. Think about it; when you can afford your rent, food, bills, clothing, etc. it keeps you happy subconsciously. You’d be pretty miserable if you couldn’t. So on that level it can and does buy happiness. Inna and Jake might preach that it doesn’t, that money is not something they care about, but if that were the case, Inna wouldn’t post about her 'real man’ buying her make-up, she wouldn’t buy designer clothing, she wouldn’t do sponsored teeth whitening ads, they wouldn’t be trying to make ÆLONIA big.
Money, despite what they say, is a key motivator. Case in point, they mentioned how Trixxy’s vet bills were expensive and they could not afford to pay for her treatment. Money very quickly became something they were concerned about. Would they appreciate their own advice of not worrying about it if someone told them the same advice they give others?
Someone who has had privilege of travelling extensively and being able to live comfortably and in decent financial security is not any better, wiser or more cultured than someone who hasn’t, or someone who can never afford to even get out of their own city. Yet Inna and Jake act like they are, because they assume that their life style is a given to anyone, that it’s people’s 'negative attitudes’ holding them back, when it isn’t. It’s entirely a game of money and access and acting as though worrying about money and not finding the 'beauty’ in your life on the part of people with less than them is some sort of trivial issue, just makes it worse.
Encouraging people to 'Worry less about things’ or to just 'Go out and live life’ to 'Follow your dreams’, 'find nature’ when you’re in a position to do as you like and damn the consequences, demonstrates a very profound misunderstanding of what worrying actually is. What the condescending celebs, musicians, rich kids etc. mean by not worrying and to 'be happy’ is they think you’re choosing to be where you are, that you’re the one who decided you needed two jobs, you’re the one who who is choosing to pay your rent over going out and seeking your fortune and dropping your responsibilities. That you could easily just drop everything and go live this perfect life where you’d be happy, but you’re choosing not to. What they fail to understand is that many of us have no choice but to make money our priority over genuine happiness, to make rent, bills, caring for families our priority because we’ve no other choice. Because if you don’t go and earn money, look after your family, etc. then you’d be out on the streets or even worse off. So them implying that people choose to be unhappy or be stuck where they are on purpose is naive and despite what they would lead people to believe, being able to drop your old life and pave the way for a new one does require money. These stories of people who claim to just go and travel to a new city with ten dollars in their pocket are rare and those people always drop lucky on knowing someone who helps them get their foot in the door by way of getting a dream job or simply being in the right place at the right time. When someone tells you a story like that, they’re no doubt deliberately missing out on key factors like people helping them out. The goal is to make it seem as inspiring as possible and to drive home the point that 'anyone’ can do it.
How many people feel inspired by those quotes they post? genuinely? Not many. Most of the people clapping for those posts of Jake and Inna’s are young and desperate to suck up to them in the hopes that they will get interaction from their idols. It might fill people temporarily with false inspiration, but it’s not a long term thing and inspiration to better yourself or your own life has to come from yourself, first and foremost. True and lasting inspiration does not come from outside sources. Outside sources might help a little in giving you a push, but ultimately you need to be your own inspiration and that is not easy to do. If it were, everyone would have killer bodies, and we’d all be millionaires on private yachts.
Everyone needs to follow their own path to financial independence and freedom, that much is true and we all achieve it in different ways. And if you’re lucky enough that path involves a lot of money, being able to travel freely and do something you love for a living or even not have a job and rely on family to pay your way, because you know you’ve got security. That’s great if you have that, and there’s no need to feel guilty over it if you do. But to encourage others to follow this very rare and privileged path makes you a dick. Because it implies the only way to gain meaning out of life is to do what Jake and Inna are doing. It’s turned their IG’s into vapid inspiration blogs that only apply to a tiny percent of the population who have the money to go out and do what they keep saying. It’s time to stop with the vague, passive-aggressive inspirational quotes that Jake sometimes starts with 'I suggest you do and [insert thing you should do here]’. It’s time to stop saying things like: ’What happens is not as important as how you react to what happens.’ Like one of Inna’s pictures says further down her IG page. It’s incredibly naive and an incredibly privileged attitude.
Similarly, it’s easy for Inna to tell girls to not worry about social stigma, because she knows she is slim, attractive and has a near perfect body by society’s standards. Again, another example of aspiration porn.
And both Jake and Inna and all those other celebs who do the same can say that this is mean, that my post is wrong until they are blue in the face, but it still does not change the fact that they are preaching from a position of financial security and privilege. If they truly believed what they posted and preached, Inna and Jake would of both acted very differently and not attack their fans. Given that Inna has posted the following quotes:
'I know, sometimes it’s not easy because there are many people who will try to provoke you on the negative reaction, who will bring up your worst inside of you. But always try to wear somebody’s shoes and try to practice non-judgment because you never know what those people are going through and who they really are. Who are we to judge somebody? We can’t do that. But we can understand and forgive. Understanding is the key to forgiveness, to love, to inner peace and happiness.’
'Remind yourself that the greatest technique for bringing peace into your life is to always choose being kind when you have a choice between being right or being kind.’
If they really believed this, they’d not have acted how they did to the recent out bursts, nor would Jake of threatened to hit someone and their gender does not make hitting them or wanting to hit them acceptable.
'Successful people maintain a positive focus in life no matter what is going on around them. They stay focused on their past successes rather than their past failures, and on the next action steps they need to take to get them closer to the fulfillment of their goals rather than all the other distractions that life presents to them.’
Please tell this to the families of Robin Williams, Heath Ledger, Jimmy Sullivan, Kurt Cobain, and the multitude of 'successful’ people in life who have died, committed suicide, struggled with addiction, abuse, etc. Please tell Corey Taylor who was raped as a child and a drug user this. Please tell all the multitude of people who can’t get over something in their past which holds them back, because it has mentally destroyed them. Please tell that to my friend who was raped when he was younger, to the point where it’s not crippled him in terms of relationships. Please tell them all how it was their attitudes and lack of positivity which caused them to be how they are. I’m sure it will go down REALLY well.
This is a perfect example of someone who is in a position of wealth and security, not understanding how humans in general work. Is Inna telling us that no matter what happens you must stay positive? Would she tell someone that after a family member died? What about if a friend told her they were raped? Would she tell them to look at the positives about it? Doubtful. It’s another issue with people with this type of attitude; they often lack empathy, because they think anyone who has anything bad happen to them has brought it upon themselves. And that is a dangerous attitude to have, because when you get knocked off your pedestal, it’s one hell of a fall.
Submission: This post should be mandatory reading. You got it 100%!!!!
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Risen (Stiles Romance Sequel) ~Chapter 6~
My chest began to tighten up as my breathing came out in low, shallow huffs. It was almost as if my body was trying to shut down all together. Stiles kept his panicked brown eyes on me, attempting to reach out, but only being rejected by the white flames consuming me. My vision began to blur as my irises continued their usual silver glow.
“Stiles, go,” I urged softly, struggling to even look up to him. “Save Lydia.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
“You have to,” I almost whimpered. “Save her.”
“No, there has to be another way—”
“There isn’t,” I grunted, shutting my eyes tightly for a moment. “Stick to plan B. Stiles, you have to save her or she dies—”
“If you stay here then you die!” He shot back. “I told you already. I’m not losing you!”
“What else are we supposed to do?” I asked, finally looking up to him.
“Concentrate on being human,” he stated, looking into my eyes with his own rather seriously. My brows furrowed as I continued to pant, finding the idea almost ridiculous. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious. Concentrate on being human.” My eyes shut in pain as I winced back, feeling my muscles tighten up with a shooting pain.
“Adelyn! Stay with me, okay?” he almost pleaded. “You can do this. Concentrate on being human.”
“How?!”
“The memories you’ve created. They’re human. You’re not just an angel, but you’re still human. Everything you’ve done, from the moment we met to the moment we kissed, you’ve been human. Being together. Being with our friends. The simple moments. Adelyn, you’re still human.” I opened my eyes, gasping as I tried to hold myself up. The memories began flooding back, filling my whole body with warmth as the echoes of our laughter chimed in. It was as if I was reliving the moments I’ve shared with each and every single one of them. My family, my friends, and most of all… My Stiles. Tears began to form at the corners of my eyes the moment he reached out for my face without hesitation. “You can do this. I’m not going to lose you. We’re in this together and I’m not leaving without you. We’re getting Lydia out of here… together.” I let out a soft sob as I watched the flames starting to consume him as well, burning at his skin before he quickly leaned forward and pressed his lips to my own. Shutting my eyes, I gave into the kiss. The pain at my body slowly began to fade away, much like the white flames before allowing me to reach out for his hands. Pulling away, I watched as his burns began to heal before I bit the corner of my lip and looked up to him, irises back to their normal shade of grey.
“You make me human, Stiles,” I whispered, keeping my hold on his hand, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled in relief. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” I nodded.
We both suddenly jumped with a gasp as a loud growl pulled us back into the reality of the situation. There was still a pack of chimeras out there trying to take Lydia and a hellhound making his way in. Stiles quickly helped me up as we finally stood at the foot of the other entrance, watching Theo rush into the room and pull Lydia out by the neck.
“Don’t touch—”
Stiles quickly pulled me back as I attempted to reach out for her, not wanting me involved just yet.
“Back off,” Theo began almost threateningly toward the deputy. Parrish continued to growl and make his way closer, causing the chimera dig his nails into her neck. My brows furrowed in anger as I attempted to push back Stiles’ hold, seriously wanting to murder the kid for even hurting her more than he already had. “I said back off!”
The hellhound stood back, finally having come to a stop before the pack of chimeras, softly hissing to himself.
“Take him,” Theo ordered back to the others.
“The guy’s on fire!” Corey argued back.
“You’ll heal. Do it!”
We stood back and watched as the remaining chimeras looked to one another before Tracy finally decided to take a leap forward. She hissed while running toward Parrish her protruded claws aiming for his torso, however she stopped as she stabbed right through, but nothing happened. He merely looked down before taking her hand and tossing her away from his body.
Josh was the next to run after him, breaking down a small pipe before grabbing a hold of the electrical wiring beneath it and wielding enough electricity through his hands. I made a face as he grabbed a hold of Parrish, but much like before he remained un-phased by the whole thing.
“Theo, this isn’t working!” the boy shouted back. Parrish gave a growl before reaching over for Josh and knocking him back into the wall. I gasped as Valack crawled his way over and dug a hole through Theo’s leg with the trepanation tool, causing him to drop his hold on Lydia. Theo grunted as Valack stood back up and elbowed him straight in the face.
“Sorry, Theo. I’m not done with her, yet!” Valack said, taking Lydia up in his arms. Both Stiles and I stood our ground as the doctor quickly attempted to make his way out the entrance we stood by.
“HELP!” Corey cried out before Parrish gave out a loud growl and ultimately setting the boy on fire. I gasped and fell back into Stiles’ arms as Corey flew back, colliding with our bodies, and ultimately knocking us out of the way. This was enough time for Valack to take Lydia and make his escape through another locked door. Stiles grunted and quickly pushed at Corey before allowing us to get back up. I gasped and ran to the door, pulling at the handle.
“No,” I panicked. “No. No. NO! LYDIA!”
“Let me try!” Theo grumbled before rushing his way forward and pushing me out of the way. Stiles reached out for me and held back as we watched the chimera instantly kick the door down. We kept our gaze on him for a moment before ignoring it and pushing our way through the opening.
“You’re not going to find her without me!” Theo called out, but we kept going, not bothering to listen.
I came to a sudden stop as the voices began to whisper at my ears yet again. My brows furrowed for a moment as I looked around. Remember, they seemed to whisper. A shudder suddenly ran down my spine as echoes of dying screams began to make their way in along with the voices. I gasped as the tunnels suddenly crossed my mind. Plan B. Stiles quickly turned to me, seeming rushed before taking a hold of my arms.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The tunnels,” I muttered, panting as I looked up to him.
“What about them?”
“Remembered the blue prints my dad got for us leading down the tunnels? It ties in with plan B,” I continued. “I—I don’t know, but it’s also like I’m being drawn to them, it’s like—”
“She’s calling out to you,” Theo panted, making his way to us. “That’s where she is. I’ve got her scent. I want her out of here as much as you guys do.” My eyes squinted into a glare.
“That’s a loud of bullsh—”
“What do you want?” Stiles asked, seemingly annoyed as he held me back.
“What’s the difference?” Theo shot back. “I can find her, you can’t.”
“You just said she’s calling out to me, maybe I can use that—”
“What? And rely on your still faulty powers that haven’t come back yet?” he laughed wryly. “Good luck with that. The mountain ash will kill you before you even get to her. So, I suggest you keep yourself human and alive a little longer and let me do the tracking. You said she’s in the tunnels, we can follow that lead, but that’s it. Leave the rest to me.”
“And why should we trust you?” I glared.
“You shouldn’t, but the longer we stand here, the further Valack gets away with her,” Theo shrugged. “Your choice.”
I looked to Stiles, who seemed as grudging about this as I was before sighing heavily and following after the chimera into the locker rooms. We came to a stop as I pointed to one corner.
“There should be an entrance at that corner,” I muttered.
“She’s definitely down there,” Theo sighed as we finally reached the gate, leading down.
~
I jumped into Stiles’ arms as he helped me down into the tunnels while Theo waited around, his senses heightened.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” I began, hugging myself as the chimera took the lead. “Everything always seems to lead us down here.”
A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the cool breeze suddenly hit my bare legs. Stiles kept a hand close to my waist as his eyes remained glued on Theo. My brows furrowed as he came to a sudden stop and pressed his ear against the pipelined wall.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I lost her scent,” Theo muttered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stiles asked. “Find it again!”
“What do you smell down here, Stiles?” Theo asked, turning to face us.
“Chemicals and fecal matter,” he responded, motioning to Theo. “Although, I’m pretty sure the fecal matter is you.”
“Can’t argue that,” I shrugged as I folded my arms and kept my gaze on the chimera. Theo rolled his eyes before turning his back to us.
“I smell it too,” he sighed out. “It’s all that I can smell, which is why I’m trying something else, so can you two please shut up and let me concentrate!”
“Alright, well we’re going to find her without you then,” I stated, my brows furrowing as I tried to make my way past him while Stiles followed after.
“Hey, you know you won’t, Adelyn! You’re going to have to trust me!”
“Trust you?!” Stiles spat out, turning over to face Theo and holding a hand up. “The guy who murdered his own sister when he was nine?!”
“Yeah! I was NINE years old,” Theo emphasized. “I—I also believed that a guy in a red suit came down a chimney to deliver presents, so when three people in leather masks showed up and said that my sister wanted me to have her heart, I believed them too!”
“Wow, for a nine-year-old you must’ve had some pretty messed up psychological issues to actually believe that,” I made a face. “And some weird fetish about people in leather masks…”
“So, then together you gutted and killed your own sister, it’s a beautiful story,” Stiles said rather sarcastically as he shook his head.
“You know when you have kids, if anyone out of their mind wants to breed with you, you can share that story over thanksgiving dinner,” I said, motioning to him with my hand. At my side, Stiles snorted and coughed in attempt to hide his laughter before Theo spoke again.
“I saw her fall into the water and watched her freeze to death in minutes, do you think I had any idea what was going on?!” Theo attempted to defend.
“I think you pushed her,” Stiles continued, stepping slightly forward. “And I think you liked it.”
We all turned sharply as Lydia’s echoing scream made its way through the tunnels, causing my own eyes to start their glow.
“It’s her,” I whispered.
“What direction was that?” Stiles asked, turning over to the chimera. “Where’s it coming from?”
Theo looked over to me for a second, taking in my glowing eyes before I responded for him.
“Everywhere…”
~
Stiles and Theo both began running about through the tunnels, both silently having agreed to split up and look for some sort of secret entrance. I stood back, my eyes still glowing as I allowed my body to take control, slowly leading me through the tunnels, but ultimately ending right back where we began.
“Nothing,” Theo panted as both boys finally made it back to where I stood. My eyes narrowed down to my hands as the voice started up again, echoing along with dying screams in the background. I felt my brows furrow as I tried my hardest to concentrate.
“Great, you’re just as useless as I am,” Stiles breathed out toward the chimera, taking up my hand and looking down to me. “Adelyn, are you okay?”
“There’s no mountain ash all the way out here, so I think she should be fine now,” Theo responded.
“Was I asking you?” Stiles spat out glaring over to him.
“I’m fine,” I sighed out. “It’s just voices, but I can’t make out what they’re trying to say. And I can’t hear them over the screaming…”
“Maybe you should let me try again—”
“You’ve done enough,” Stiles cut Theo off.
“I’m trying to help save Lydia’s life too, you know!” he shot back.
“Would you just drop the altruistic crap?” Stiles sighed out. “You want Lydia because she gets you to Parrish, you want Parrish because he gets you to the beast.”
“So, what? I want it dead too,” Theo grumbled turning his back to us. My brows furrowed as the voices began to grow louder.
“Right after you take its power, right?” Stiles continued, stepping forward the minute he dropped his hold on me. “We know why you got the talons. Malia told us everything. We know you’re looking for Deucalion.”
“I found Deucalion,” Theo emphasized. “And you’re right. I’m going to help Parrish stop the beast. I’m going to take its power and then I’m going to break its neck. So maybe I’m not the good guy in your eyes, but I might end up being the guy that saves all your asses.”
Not if I can do something about it first, I though as my eyes returned back to their normal state. There was a moment of silence before Theo leaned back toward the pipes, attempting to listen in yet again. Stiles took in a deep breath before stepping forward.
“Break it,” he suggested.
“What?” Theo asked, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Stiles.
“Sound travels through the pipe,” he explained, but the chimera still seemed confused. “You’ll hear better, dumbass! Break it!” Theo stood back for a moment before reaching out with his fist and breaking right through the pipe, allowing the sound of Valack’s voice to echo out.
“Lydia, can you hear me?” he began.
“What do you want from me?” she asked weakly.
“I want your help against the Dread Doctors,” Valack answered simply. “They ruined me. Destroyed me. Drove me to obsession. Consigned me to professional ridicule. People thought I was a monster, but I was simply trying to open their eyes.”
“Now you want me to be your eyes,” Lydia responded.
“You will see things, Lydia. Things no one else can see. You may not survive, but you might save the lives of your friends,” he continued. “You have to slow your mind first. There’s too much activity in your brain. We have to get from a gamma wave to a theta.”
“It’s too loud, I can’t,” Lydia whispered.
“If I try the mask now it’ll kill you. You have to calm your mind. You understand what they’ve created?”
“The beast,” she responded.
“The Beast of Gevaudan. An engineered version of their first attempt. A failure chimera that was taken down by Ezekiel. But this one, it’s not yet fully grown either. It’s still bound to its host, the teenage chimera inside and it still requires the Dread Doctors protection.”
“Damnatio Memoriae,” Lydia muttered.
“That’s right,” Valack responded. “The Beast was a man first. A human killer in the late seventeen hundreds. The Dread Doctors are trying to get it to remember itself, to remember the man. When that happens, the teenager is gone.”
“I found it,” Theo muttered, finally breaking into a run. I looked to Stiles who took me by the hand and began running as well.
“This teenager, Lydia, is the last genetic chimera,” Valack’s voice somehow echoed back into my head along with the voices as I continued to run along with Stiles. “A young man or a young woman, maybe even someone you know. A success while Theo and the others were failures.”
“But we went through the list of genetic chimeras,” Lydia responded. “There’s no one else.”
“Well there must be one you missed,” Valack continued. “Another way they could have two sets of DNA. If you could see the face of this teenager, discover its identity, then your friends would have a fighting chance. The mask can help you see.” My eyes began their glow as I caught sight of a double doors.
“There,” I pointed out before Theo and Stiles ran forward yet again. We all slammed ourselves against the iron doors.
“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles asked as Theo tried to push himself through. “Get the doors!”
“I’m trying!” he shouted. I stepped back, my eyes shutting and my hands flying over my ears as the voices and the screaming grew louder.
“I’m sorry, but times up!” Valack shouted.
I gasped as my eyes flung open, the silver consuming my irises as Lydia’s scream echoed throughout the whole place, shaking the ground beneath us before I held out a hand, causing an explosion. Stiles and Theo both stumbled back, their hands over their ears before I stepped right through, her scream almost giving me enough strength to push through. My body stumbled back for a second as my eyes returned to their normal shade of grey, but Stiles managed to hold me up. I gasped as I caught sight of Lydia, sitting back on a chair with two wires tapped to her temples. My stomach churned as I looked down and noticed half of Valack’s head was missing. Looking back up, my brows furrowed slightly. Could Lydia have done that with just her scream alone?
“You guys came back,” she whispered weakly, looking to us. I shook whatever feelings I had before rushing to her and taking off the tape from her head.
“We told we wouldn’t leave without you,” I breathed out with a small smile.
“We’re getting you out of here,” Stiles nodded.
“No, you can’t. It’s too dangerous,” Lydia protested weakly.
“I don’t care, we’re getting you out,” I shook my head before I grabbed a hold of her and tried to help her down. Stiles made his way over to Lydia’s other side before we limped our way out of the room.
~
“Okay, you really gotta try and stay on your feet,” Stiles instructed as Lydia began grunting in pain.
“I’m trying,” she shot back.
“Okay, good, well the plan didn’t work out too well, so we need your help, okay?” Stiles continued.
“You had a plan?” Lydia asked as he kept her hold on the both of us.
“Surprisingly, yes,” I panted.
“It was good on paper!” Stiles stated with a smile. “Not so much in reality.”
We had barely managed to push through the door when Lydia fell to the ground, hands over her head.
“I can’t hold it,” she whimpered. “I can’t… do it…”
“Lydia—”
“Stiles, take Adelyn and RUN!” she shouted before taking in a deep breath.
I gasped as my eyes began their glow yet again, but before I could do anything else, a hand quickly met with our shoulders. We both fell back into Scott and Liam before I held out my hand and created a barrier strong enough to protect us away from the screaming explosion. Parrish had managed to fling himself into Lydia, containing the scream as best he could, but it still managed to crack through the walls and create clouds of smoke. Stiles pulled me back, causing the barrier to break as the deputy finally made his way out, holding onto Lydia’s body.
“Where to?” he panted, finally himself again.
“This way!” Scott answered, leading the way.
“There’s a gate up ahead,” Liam muttered as we all continued to run through the tunnels.
“What about Mason?” Scott asked, referring to our plan B, who was going to be our last hope to escape through the Eichen lockdown.
“He’s on it, trust me,” Liam huffed.
“What? What’s happening?” Lydia asked, still holding onto Parrish for dear life.
“Plan B,” the deputy answered.
“If in case we were to trigger a lockdown, Mason was going to be our ticket out from the outside,” I responded as Stiles continued to hold onto my body.
“Liam, slow down!” Scott called out.
“Liam, wait!” Stiles shouted. I gasped as the young beta flung himself into the gate, sparks flying for a second before he pried it open with all his strength.
“I told you!” he panted with a grin.
We all quickly climbed our way up through the first opening leading down to the tunnels before Stiles’ jeep quickly pulled up on the outside of Eichen.
“Is she okay?” Malia asked as her and Kira jumped out of the jeep.
“No, we need to go,” Scott explained hurriedly. “Give me the keys we need to get her to the clinic—”
We all gasped Parrish grunted and fell over Roscoe’s hood, scratch marks covering his bare back. Quickly twirling over, I watched as Tracy grabbed a hold of Lydia and began pulling away. My brows furrowed and I felt my eyes begin their glow once more.
“Let her go!” I almost growled.
“Sorry, can’t do, she’s coming with me,” Tracy almost laughed.
“Okay, Tracy just wait, you don’t know what’s about to happen,” Scott tried to explain.
“I’m taking her that’s what’s happening and none of you are going to do a thing—” Her sentence was cut off by the sound of electricity coming from behind the girl. Lydia fell forward into my own arms as I tried to help her stand up straighter.
“Could somebody please get my daughter out of this hell hole?” Mrs. Martin shouted, holding up one of the security’s electric rods.
~
Stiles stepped on the gas pedal while Scott sat in the passenger seat and I kept my place next to Lydia in the back seat.
“We’re almost there, Lydia,” I tried to assure as she began wriggling around in pain. “Just hold on.”
I gasped as she let out a small scream, causing my whole body to shake and the jeep’s windows to crack.
“Lydia, it’s okay. You’re going to get through this, okay? You’re going to make it,” Stiles tried to soothe.
“But you’re not,” she whispered, her eyes landing on us. My eyes widened as they flickered over to Stiles, noticing the blood leaking from his ears.
We quickly rushed our way into the animal clinic, where Deaton already awaited our arrival. My heart beat raced with panic as Lydia began squirming again, almost fighting back her screams in pain. I stepped back as the two boys attempted to prop her up onto the examining table.
“Hold her!” Deaton instructed. I made my way over to her feet, trying to hold them down while the emissary continued his work. My eyes squinted in slight pain as Lydia let out a high-pitched whimper, loud enough to cause the whole place to shake.
“Doc, I think you gotta do something!” Stiles panicked.
“I will, but right now I need you to keep her still!”
“What is that?” My eyes slightly widened as I caught sight of the rather large syringe Deaton was holding.
“Mistletoe,” he responded.
“Mistletoe?”
“Stiles, just hold her,” Scott almost scorned as Lydia continued to squirm about, trying to fight off her screams. I gasped and stepped back as Lydia suddenly sat up, her amplified scream hitting me directly. My whole body froze for that split second as the glass from the windows shattered and tossed everyone away. There was a moment of stillness before I felt my own eyes roll back and my body finally collapse…
~
STILES POV
I had stumbled back into the various pieces of furniture Deaton had set up around his clinic. My eyes flickered over to my girlfriend as I noticed she was in direct line of hit. I tried to reach out to her, but the whole place seemed to tremble from under my feet, causing me to fall over before I could even get to her. Quickly reaching for my head, I attempted to protect myself from the various pieces of glass that flew over us. Lydia’s scream was powerful enough to shatter everything in the whole place.
Silence took over and I was finally able to adjust myself back up along with everyone else. My brows furrowed as I looked around, but found no traces of my girlfriend. Eyes flickering down, my heart seemed to stop as I watched her limp body lying on the floor. Looking over to Lydia, I noticed both girls had stopped breathing. A knot formed at my throat as I quickly flung myself down to the ground. Taking up Adelyn’s body in my arms, I brushed her hair away from her face.
“Adelyn,” I began calling out. “Adelyn!”
“Lydia?” Scott called out, shaking the girl lying back on the examining table.
“Adelyn, c’mon,” I called out, shaking her slightly as I tried to hold her up. “No, no, no. C’mon, babe… wake up. C’mon wake up. Can you hear me, Adelyn? Wake up, please.” My eyes began prickling as my mouth dried up, not bothering to drop my hand away from her cold cheek. “C’mon Adelyn, please open your eyes. Listen to me, you just have to open your eyes… please, baby, please. Adelyn, you can’t leave me. Please, you can’t leave. I can’t—I can’t lose you, Adelyn. Please, wake up! Wake up!” I looked up as Lydia gasped and sat up, having regained consciousness. Quickly looking back down, my hopes lifted, but were soon crushed as Adelyn hadn’t bothered to stir. The tears soon began to fall as I hunched over, hugging her body tightly against mine.
“No,” I whimpered. “No, no, no. Adelyn, please…”
“Stiles,” Scott called out, attempting to pull me back, but I brushed his hand away, not bothering to drop my hold on her body.
“Oh my God…” Lydia quickly stepped down, her hand pressed tightly against her mouth as she let out a soft sob. I lifted myself slightly again, brushing her hair away from her face before pressing my lips to her forehead.
“Please, Adelyn. You can’t leave me. Not like this,” I begged, showering her face with soft kisses. “Please. I—I love you, Adelyn. Baby come back to me. I need you, okay? I need you to stay. Stay with me.” I paused as I looked down to her peaceful state. “There’s still so many things I want to do with you. I still want to show you off to the world. You have to wake up. You have to come back to us. You can’t leave. We still have so much to do. Senior prom. College applications. Graduation… And so much more after. I love you Adelyn. I’m in love with you.” I almost chuckled. “But I need you to stay with me. Adelyn, please, don’t leave me.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers for a moment before pulling back, hoping for a reaction. When she didn’t move, the sliver of hope was instantly crushed. Shutting my eyes, I felt my whole body start to shut down in grief as Scott placed a comforting hand over my shoulder. We all froze as a gasp ripped through the silence.
“Stiles,” her croaky voice called out as she reached out for my cheek.
“Oh my—” I breathed out in relief. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she nodded with a small smile.
“Thank God,” I sighed out.
There was a moment of silence as she kept her eyes glued onto me.
“Did you mean it?” Adelyn finally asked softly, chewing at her bottom lip. I licked my lips before smiling and nodding, knowing what she meant.
“Every word of it.”
She quickly grinned with a small chuckle before pulling me down to her lips, crashing them against mine. Everyone seemed to let out a small sigh in relief. We were all okay. Everything was okay.
Chapter 5 / Chapter 7
(A/N: I am so sorry for not posting this yesterday! I got busy and didn’t have the time to get around to it! So to make it up to you guys I’ll be posting two chapters today! Again I am so sorry! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed, sorry for any mistakes, and like always happy reading!)
#stiles stilinski#dylan o'brien#stiles stilinski imagine#dylan o'brien imagine#adelyn rodriguez#nephilim#original character#teen wolf#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf romance#scott mccall#tyler posey#kira yukimura#arden cho#lydia martin#holland roden#liam dunbar#dylan sprayberry#malia tate#shelley hennig#theo raeken#cody christian#jordan parrish#ryan kelley#season 5b#dread doctors#eichen house#chimeras#to hell and back#the beast
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Review- Kong: Skull Island
I told this story when I reviewed Gareth Edwards’ fantastic Godzilla, but I’ll tell it again. One of the first encounters with the movies that I can remember having came when I was about 5 or 6. In the middle of the night, my dad woke me up and took me out in front of our television set. On it was the 1962 King Kong vs. Godzilla, and it was the final fight scene between the two. For the next 5-10 minutes I was mesmerized watching these two giant monsters grapple with each other, eventually tumbling into the ocean killing one another. I’d never seen anything like that before, and it blew my tiny mind. From then on Godzilla defined my childhood, I religiously watched every Godzilla film I could get my hands on. King Kong never had the amount of films and cultural influence that Godzilla did, but I always held him in high regard. Kong: Skull Island is pretty messy and uneven, but at it’s best, it returned me to my childhood, to the glory of watching monsters on film.
Jordan Vogt-Roberts was always an interesting choice to helm a monster movie, especially a King Kong film. Back in 2013, my friend and I walked into his The Kings of Summer, and came out having seen one of our favorite surprises that year. It was hilarious and emotional and just a really fun film. So you take a guy that’s only done one independent film and toss him into a big budget franchise monster film, at a certain point the guy just gets overwhelmed. But to his credit, he does create some terrific sequences. The opening scene is fantastically giddy with such a B-movie energy, imagine a monster movie by way of Sam Raimi or Edgar Wright. To be honest, this film only needs to really do one thing great, which is the King Kong fights, and it does. If you’ve ever wanted to watch King Kong bust out wrestling moves to fight large reptiles, we’ve got the film for you. It’s like Vogt-Roberts just binged all the Wrestlemania he could, showed it to the crew and said “Let’s do that shit” and it’s amazing. Kong is jumping from the top of the ropes, doing piledrives, suplexes, I saw something resembling a stunner, and using props to beat the shit out of monsters - there are several “steel chair” moments where he just grabs whatever is around and uses it as a weapon to turn the tide of the fight. I was laughing with utter thrill during these fight scenes.
There are 4 tiers of actors in this film. You got your arthouse A-listers (Brie Larson, Tom Hiddleston), your career vets (Samuel L. Jackson, John Goodman), character actor MVPs (Shea Whigham,John Ortiz, Marc Evan Jackson, Toby Kebbell, Richard Jenkins) and a crop of young talent on the rise (Corey Hawkins, Jason Mitchell, Thomas Mann, Jing Tian, Eugene Cordero). That’s a lot of characters to juggle, and Vogt-Roberts does drop a few in his attempt to keep it all together. Hiddleston and Larson end up being the least interesting characters - I suppose somebody had to take the fall with this many on screen, it’s just a shame it happened to the characters we’re supposed to take as our leads.
It’s here I’d like to start campaigning for John C. Reilly’s Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for next year. Reilly is an actor that has never once phoned in a performance, and it’s no different here. He’s always been a terrific 6th man, coming off the bench and electrifying the court no matter the situation. It’s not often you watch an actor come into a movie halfway through in a supporting role, look around, see the film is starting to slump, say “I got this guys, hold my beer” and just toss the whole film on his back and run through hellfire to rescue it. As much humor as Reilly injects into the film, he also puts a lot of heart into his character of Hank Marlow, a soldier that’s been stranded on the island since WWII. You kind of wish he’d been the focus of the film all along, because he carries so much momentum when he’s on screen. The film just becomes alive when he’s there, there’s a dramatic stake and emotional attachment you feel for this guy. If you see this film, hopefully you’ll understand what I mean.
The biggest problem with Kong is that it kind of tries to be all films to all people. You got your monster film, your Vietnam war film, your study of man vs. nature, you got your setup for the upcoming King Kong vs. Godzilla in 2020, and a character driven piece about trying to go home. You can tell 4 different people had a pass at the script, and as talented as I believe Vogt-Roberts is, he just can’t bring it all together. If anything though, Kong: Skull Island can at least claim the spot of the 2nd best Kong film. That sounds more backhanded of a compliment than I want it to. It’s like being the 2nd best player on the Thunder - good for you, but you’re still nowhere close to Russell Westbrook. Because this film needs to also set things up for future films, there’s an end credit sequence that has the child in me giddy as can be. I won’t discuss it here, but if you see me on the street, please talk to me about it. The adult in me was left wanting a bit more of Kong: Skull Island, but the child in me was having a blast, which is far more important to me.
#Reviews#Kong: Skull Island#Jordan Vogt-Roberts#Brie Larson#John C. Reilly#Tom Hiddleston#John Goodman#Samuel L. Jackson#Shea Whigham#Thomas Mann#Jason Mitchell#Corey Hawkins#Jing Tian
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KLAINE | Numb.
WHEN: May 5th, 2020
WHERE: Riley Hummel’s house, back room.
WHO: Kurt Hummel & Blaine Anderson.
EVENT: After the news of fellow submissive’s death, Blaine needs to feel safe.
TRIGGERS: Mentions of death & self-harm.
Blaine was quiet as he arrived at Riley's and greeted the two of them. He followed Kurt willingly to the room that Blaine was starting to view as his, which was odd. He made sure to wear comfortable clothes, sweat pants and a over sized sweat shirt. He hadn't gelled his hair in two days and the curls were everywhere, but Blaine couldn't bring himself to care. He had hardly slept since the news broke. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Corey and Rochelle's faces. His heart ached and it felt as if something was..missing. It didn't seem real, just as if Blaine was walking through a dream. He stayed quiet for a while not even saying much to Kurt. Being in his presence was nearly enough to make Blaine feel at ease. He kept the sweats on as he climbed into the big comfy bed, snuggling under the covers and sighing at the warmth. Blaine waited for Kurt to join him, not sure if he wanted to talk to the switch about what happened or if he just wanted to relax in his arms. "So...how was your day?" Blaine decided to break the silence with an awkward bit of small talk.
Kurt had allowed Blaine his silence. It wasn't about him. It wasn't about anything past needing someone. To not be alone. Make sure Blaine was grounded, and safe. That's all he could do. He couldn't erase the pain, no matter how badly he wanted to. Anything to see his Blaine smile again. After leaving Riley in the hallway, whispered words between them, longing touches, and Kurt was closing the door to his and Blaine's room for the night, and keeping them locked in with the world being kept out. It was the least he could do. Allowing Blaine to get comfortable as he removes his shoes, and allowing his pants to come off next at least. Wasn't as if he was indecent beneath in the black boxer briefs. And Blaine had seen him in far less anyway. But the hoodie he had borrowed from his brother remained on. This wasn't about that. Climbing under the covers, he scoots in closer, silently welcoming Blaine to press in if he wanted to. "My day was uneventful." Comes the sigh, humoring the small talk. "I can only watch Project Runway so many times before I have the need to sharpen my teeth on a piece of fabric." He tilts his head, smirking a bit, running his hand up to smooth over the others soft curls, twirling a few around his finger.
Blaine leaned into Kurt’s touch as his fingers moved through Blaine’s hair. He hummed softly for a moment letting his eyes close. “Mmm. I’m sorry it was uneventful.” He replied, his voice soft. “I’m sure tomorrow will be better.” There was hardly any emotion in his voice mostly because Blaine couldn’t feel anything in that moment. He didn’t want to have normal conversation but he also didn’t want to talk about what happened. Blaine settles in a little close and rested his head in Kurt’s chest. It just ached and he didn’t know how to express it. “Who is your favorite designer on Project Runway?” More avoiding the topic and more small talk.
Having to stop the wince as he holds his arm out of the way, playing it off as letting the submissive get more comfortable in any position he wants before returning his fingers through the soft curls. The gel was absent, yes, but it still felt and smelled like Blaine, which brought some comfort. "Chloe Dao. She didn't do as many ruffles, and held a sophisticated look compared to anyone else." He answers easily, head tilting down to press a kiss against the other boy's forehead. Any sign of affection he could muster. "Have you watched any of the seasons? Because I could go on for days about how bland Leanne was."
Blaine could have fallen asleep like this. In fact, this was his idealistic situation. He and Kurt were in each other’s embrace in bed talking about mundane things. But every time he tried to drift off, there were the faces of Corey and Rochelle. He jerked awake after half dozing off and looked up at Kurt apologetically. “What?” It took him a few seconds to remember what the question was before he started to drift off. Project Runway. “Oh. Uhm, I think I watched part of one once but not enough to remember it all.” He muttered and turn more on his side so he could wrap his arms around Kurt. “You smell nice...Mmm love...it.” and he mumbled the last bit as he buried his face into Kurt’s chest, so the final word came out in distinguishable.
Having the other jerk against him has Kurt biting back a question he knew the answer to. Blaine was exhausted. He clearly hasn't been sleeping, and he needed to. But having no idea how to encourage that, he can't help but lie there, gently playing with the soft curls as his way of distraction. Soothing the submissive as best as he can. That's all he could do. And it was driving him up a wall. He hated feeling so helpless. Another wince as Blaine presses in closer, and having to adjust his arm again. "I smell nice?" He can't help but to let out a small chuckle. "Thank you. I always inspired to smell nice, which is probably why I take such good care of my hygiene. Obsess over it really." Kurt rambles, pressing another kiss to Blaine's head with a hum. "When was the last time you bathed, Sweetheart? Do I need to give you one?"
Blaine smiled a little as he continued to nuzzle into Kurt's chest, squeezing him tighter as he did. "You smell like Kurt." He commented, smiling further as he felt the kiss on his head. Kurt was such a calming presence for him, he wanted to selfishly keep him around all the time. After another minute Blaine pulled back and rolled over to look up at Kurt. "I mean..I showered this morning..I just didn't put gel in." He said. "But uhm...I wouldn't say no to a bath. Especially if you were to help me." There was a tiny quirk of a smile on his lips. "Can never be too clean...right?"
Having his personal space kind of being given back, Kurt takes advantage of gently resting his bandaged arm across his chest as his other hand continues with the toying of Blaine's hair. He didn't know why, but it felt as if he stopped now, the submissive would slip away. He didn't want that. He wanted to be close. It had been too long since they had alone time together like this, and he only wished it wasn't under such circumstances. Casually smirking, dropping his head back against the pillow at the subtle flirting. That felt nice. Almost as if they were back to normal. Though he knew better then to get his arm wet, the idea of being intimate with this man was tugging at him. Crap. His arm. "Definitely can't be too clean." He agrees, lifting his head once more, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine's lips, humming under his breath. "Maybe a sponge bath, so I have an excuse to touch you all over, but not touch your hair."
Blaine sighed, content with Kurt playing with his hair. He normally hated his hair curly like this, so out of control. But Kurt seemed to like it, so Blaine didn't mind doing it for him. He looked more like Everett this way, just no beard. Too scratchy and itchy, he hated having a beard. Blane can't help but smile broadly at Kurt after the kiss. Those kisses always left Blaine floating and smiling beyond control. Blaine quickly moved away from Kurt to sit up fully and actually managed a kneeling position on the mattress. Although Blaine had to do his best to not roll forward on the mattress and on top of Kurt. "You don't need an excuse to do that." Blaine replied with knowing grin. He stared at Kurt getting more eager for Kurt to touch him. Blaine wanted a distraction right now more than anything, and a sponge bath from Kurt screamed distraction. "Come on!" Blaine got out of his kneeling position on the bed, and once his feet were planted on the ground, Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt arm to tug him toward the bathroom. "You can't tease me with a sponge bath and just lay there."
As Blaine pulls away from him, he carefully shifts his arm behind his head, watching the submissive get eager. That was definitely a nice look. It just reminded him why he loved liked Blaine and considered him his submissive. Besides the obvious adorable overall aesthetic and just being a joy to be around, the knowledge that this boy wanted him and was eager for him of all people gave him a sense of pride. Or was that arousal? He couldn't tell. It was confusing. Having his wounded arm then tugged, it wasn't expected. A shock of pain slipped through his entire left side and he can't help but to hiss, wriggling out of Blaine's hold. He hopes he covers it up, the wince be damned, with a laugh. And not a nervous one either. No sir. "Of course, Sweetheart. Bathroom first. Let's take advantage of that big bath."
Blaine tugged playfully on Kurt’s arm trying to get him to the bathroom before this feeling lightness and brief forgetfulness wore off. But it left just as quick as it came on because if he wasn’t mistaken he hurt Kurt. Blaine released the switch’s arm and took a few steps back, his hands balled up against his chest. “I’m sorry!” He apologized, almost out of fear. “I didn’t mean to.” Blaine hadnt meant to hurt him. He wasn’t even aware that he was tugging that hard. And even though Kurt was laughing, or what was supposed to be a laugh, Blaine caught hiss off pain and recoil. He stared back at Kurt with large eyes full of remorse. “I’m sorry, sir.” He winced himself at the use of that term with Kurt. “Kurt...I mean Kurt. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He kept repeating.
Immediate regret crosses over Kurt's face as Blaine starts to blame himself. Fuck. He wanted to avoid that, and ended up doing it anyway. Going into damage control mode, he pushes himself to stand, injured arm pressed close against his chest as he reaches for Blaine with his other hand. "No, no, no - Sweetheart, shh. You didn't do it. I promise." Closing the distance, he curls his fingers behind the submissive's neck, needing their foreheads to touch. Hoping to ground him again. "Deep breath, Blaine. You didn't do anything, okay?" Rolling the sleeve of the hoodie back, he shows off the bandaging. "See? You didn't do it, baby, I promise."
Blaine’s breathing picked up as Kurt got out of bed and moved him, he took a step back but Kurt’s hand was on the back of him neck he slammed his eyes shut. Oh god, he never meant to hurt Kurt, never. When their foreheads met Blaine gasped trying to get his breathing under control. He kept his hand balled up and against his chest and as far from touching Kurt as possible. But was trying to soothe him and tell him he had done it. And Blaine wanted to listen because he would never hurt Kurt in any way, that wasn’t consensual of course. Blaine let his breathing start to regulate again before he opened his eyes and found himself staring at Kurt’s bandages arm. And like flipping a switch the panic and fear for himself turned to panic and concern for Kurt. “Kurt!” Blaine reached out and gingerly examines Kurt’s arm. “Your arm...what happened? Who did this? Are you alright?”
And there it was. The pity. The concern. Kurt can't help but to sigh, allowing Blaine to examine him. Not that there was much to look at, as his entire forearm was wrapped securely in an ace bandage. As Riley had changed it earlier, he was safe to not need another changing - so long as he didn't get it wet. "I did it to myself by being careless, Sweetheart. I'm fine. Just needed a few stitches and have to wear this for a few weeks - I'm fine." He twists his lips to the side, offering a helpless shrug. "Riley and I got into a very heavy conversation, and I slammed my hand and arm into a mirror. Glass was involved. I was taken care of by the hospital staff, and was kept overnight as I needed a blood transfusion after I lost a good amount. I'll have a nasty scar, probably, but still fine. Okay?"
Blaine's brow creased with worry. Kurt was hurt and hearing that he had to have stitches made his stomach drop. "Kurt.." He muttered. "You're beautiful skin." He looked up at Kurt and reached out to touch his face. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that breaking a mirror will bring 7 years bad luck?" He sighed and brought his attention back to the bandaged arm. "A blood transfusion?" Blaine felt sick to his stomach thinking about Kurt and blood everywhere. "What kind of conversation were your two having that got so heated you needed to destroy a mirror?"
Seeing Blaine so concerned for him has Kurt's heart aching. Maybe even feeling the spiral starting. He couldn't do this. He hated seeing Blaine have that look on his face because of him. He was so bad at this. He hadn't fully healed, and he wasn't entirely mentally able to go into a Dominant headspace. So he could only do this as Kurt. "Blaine," he squeezes the others hand, "it doesn't matter what kind of conversation we were having. I'm fine. It got taken care of." Gently cupping Blaine's face, his thumbs caressing the others face. "If I get seven years bad luck, does that mean you won't want to be involved with me for seven years? Or will you ride it out the whole way?"
Blaine leaned into Kurt’s touch, not letting go of his injured arm but being very gentle with it. He sighed softly and let his eyes flutter close just a moment at Kurt’s thumbs on his face. His touch was always so calming. “That doesn’t really reassure me, Kurt.” He said as his eyes opened and fell in Kurt’s face once more. “Any conversation that led you to hit a mirror and hurt yourself like this,” he frowned slightly, “couldn’t have been a good one.” He didn’t like that Kurt was deflecting and avoiding or outright refusing the question. “What? No. I..I’m going to be here for all of it. No matter what.” The longer he stood here with Kurt talking so casually like this, nothing but raw emotion, made Blaine’s heart hurt. He couldn’t be in a relationship with Kurt, not the way he wanted. He was a sub, and Kurt was his acting Dom. That was it. “You can’t exactly get that wet, maybe I should just bathe..and I come out after?”
God, he hated feeling this helpless. As if he had done something wrong and not knowing what. His hand of his injured arm flexes, sending a throbbing reminder up to his shoulder. Right. "It wasn't a positive one, but it wasn't anything out of anger or anything. I didn't know where to channel my emotions properly because of the...topic. And ended up hurting myself." After a pause, deflating some, he glances towards the area where the guest bathroom was. He wants to stand firm in that he could still accompany Blaine into the bathroom. Even if it meant he couldn't go near the water - at least he'd be there. In the same shared space. But something holds him back. Whatever it is, it hurts. "If that's what you want to do, Sweetheart." Using his good hand to smooth down over Blaine's chest, and pulls away to grant his personal space again. "I'll be in here. Waiting for you."
Blaine didn’t want to bathe on his own and had been looking forward to Kurt touching him in such an intimate way. He tried not to look Kurt in the eyes and the other pulled away from him. Blaine’s chest is tight but he nodded and stepped around Kurt to the bathroom. He closed the door gently behind him and pressed his back against it. Blaine was having a hard time with this D/s relationship first romance second. In the beginning, Blaine could manage it well enough but then his feelings began to grow more and more each time he saw Kurt. Each time they had a conversation. And it impossible to put the D/s aspect of their relationship above how he felt for Kurt. And seeing him hurt like this tore at Blaine’s heart. After a minute or so of standing there, he walked over to the tub and started to draw the bath, sitting on the edge as the tub steadily filled with water. He got undressed and when the water was at the right height he sank into it, humming softly as the temperature was just exactly right. Blaine leaned back and stared at the ceiling as he lazily cleaned himself with one of the soft wash cloths, absently thinking and imagining scenarios where he and Kurt met off the island. He imagined the things they’d do together, the places Blaine would take Kurt. His favorite spots. But this only caused Blaine to sink further. He sighed and submerged himself under water for a few seconds in an attempt to clear his head. When he resurfaced, Blaine pushes his wet curls out of his face and leaned back against the tub and stared at the ceiling, losing track of time. It was about forty five minutes later when the water had become too cold to stand, that Blaine pushed himself up and out of the tub. He took a towel and dried himself before wrapping it around his waist and took another one and ran it through his hair. Blaine opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out, only a towel around his waist and one he was holding. “Sorry that took so long.” He muttered.
Once he was left alone, Kurt tilts his head back while working his jaw. Why the hell did he feel like crying over this? It was just his stupid arm. It wasn't Blaine's fault he had been stupid and did this to himself. Maybe it was the medication fucking with his brain that had him feeling like this. Like such a failure. Like he wasn't doing right by Blaine at all. All of this was for naught, right? Blaine deserved the best, top shelf Dominant, and he clearly wasn't that. Pull yourself together, Hummel. Don't spiral when Blaine needs you. After checking in with Riley for ten minutes, he climbs back into bed and settled against the headboard where he just ended up staring blankly at the opposite wall. Arms folded over his chest, ever so slightly dissociating as his mind went back and forth on different things. Blaine, how bad the scar would be, Blaine, going over what would've happened if he had done this without Riley there - would Sylvester have interfered with that? Stop it. Blaine returning from the bathroom, a light steam filtering out and making the air around them feel clean. His head tilting towards the other, feeling his mouth go dry as he takes the image of Blaine standing there. In just a towel. He could feel a twitch of interest at the sight, but he opts to ignore it. Even his face goes a little warm, and he clears his throat. "No need to be sorry, Sweetheart. Do you feel a little better?"
Blaine ran the other towel through his hair once more making sure to get as much water from it as possible. He smirked a little noticing the subtle change in Kurt’s expression as his eyes fell on Blaine. He walked over, towel low on his hip bones and opened the bag he often brought whether he was staying the night or not. He reached in and pulled out a dress pair of underwear. He dropped the towel and quickly put the underwear on, sneaking a glance at Kurt while he did so. He folded the damp towels and went to place them in the hamper in the bathroom. He loved teasing Kurt in anyway he could. He couldn’t help it. As he came back, Blaine sat on the edge of the bed. “I do.” He finally replied. “It was nice to clear my head. The bathrooms are nicer than the ones in our apartment. And Riley has a bunch of nice bath salts too.” He pauses for a few moments. “Thank you for being there for me, Kurt. I mean it.”
Kurt couldn't help himself but to stare as Blaine let the towel dropped. It was one of the best assets that Blaine had - his ass. It always drew Kurt's eyeline, among others when they were out. He could feel the interest growing and he had to take a controlled breath. Not, now. Not now. Not now. Adjusting the covers over his lap, he covers his arousal with a flash of a grin. Something that's a little nervous, maybe with a hint of force, but definitely genuine underneath all of that. "Of course. I'll always be here for you. For as long as you want me, that is." Reaching for Blaine, he tries to get him back on the bed, because there was too much space. And his non-Dominant headspace was demanding physical contact. He wanted to hold this man. Kiss him. Love him. Fuck. "May I kiss you?"
Blaine smirked a little and climbed onto the bed scooting himself next to Kurt, resting in his knees. Kurt was so beautiful and everything Blaine could want in a partner. Trouble was, they weren’t partners, they weren’t boyfriends. It was hard to tell what they were, especially in times like this. He ignored the nagging in his head and leaned in, “You never have ask with me.” Blaine gave Kurt a peck on the lips. He sat back staring almost transfixed in Kurt. He swung his leg over to straddle Kurt on the bed. Blaine grinned and leaned in once more, capturing Kurt’s lips with his in a deep kiss. All the while just thinking of how much he loved the man beneath him in bed.
A peck. Definitely not what Kurt was wanting, let alone expecting. It was almost comical how his stomach dropped further into his body at it. That was it? He wanted a kiss. An actual kiss. Something to draw himself and Blaine close again. To reconnect. Remind him what it felt like. How it tasted. How Blaine tasted. This wasn't right. This was all wrong. He needed Blaine. He — his inner monologue being cut short as he finds himself straddled. Oh. That's much better. Lips finding Blaine's as they fit together again, eyes falling shut. Leaning into it. Breathing this man in. This. This was what kissing was. Why it was invented. Perhaps even invented by both of them in this moment, all over again. His hands reaching out to gently rest against the other man's hips, pulling him closer. Not even caring if it was obvious he wasn't exactly soft under the covers and layers. Because he needed this. Needed Blaine. As much of him as he could get, until his breath was being stolen from his lungs and he had to break away just long enough to do it all over again. Who needed air when there was kissing this man to be had? A man who made his heart ache and throb at the same time against his rib cage. A man he cared for. Adored. Loved. ...Loved?
Blaine has spent the day feeling completely numb and in disbelief that his friend were gone. He hurt for a while but then a feeling of absolutely nothing washed over him. Being here with Kurt have him feeling again. Not just the obvious arousal that he now dragged slowly across Kurt with a determined roll of his hips, but inside Blaine felt passion as their lips worked eagerly together. As Kurt broke away from his lips Blaine smile and moved onto kissing down the other man’s jaw. Kurt made him happy and made him feel everything all at once. It was overwhelming and addictive. “Kurt..” he mumbled taking just a moment to stop kissing the others neck. Kurt was pinned beneath him in the bed and Blaine moaned quietly as he dragged himself deliberately against Kurt again. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his lips over the shell of Kurt’s ear. “I..” the last two words died on his lips along with the brief confidence he felt as he almost said those three words to him. No. No, that’s not what came first here. It was the D/s relationship, nothing personal. Besides, Kurt didn’t possibly think of him in the same way. It was all the D/s dynamic.
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BIKE SHOP
So why somebody dressed like a certain somebody broke what’s going on here rough dude in I really I really inspire you on a daily got alright guys we are here my bike shop again it is disgusting raining outside I’ll show you guys through the window it is terrible outside absolutely disgusting it’s been raining since we got back from California every single day literally non-stop through the night in the morning all day I’ve never seen it rain this much in a really long time so instead of going to the skate park we decided to do something different as you can see we cleared out all the bikes from my bike shop right here we put them all on that side just for tonight because we’re gonna have fun in here we’re going to make the best of the situation and we’re just going to hang out inside the bike shop and ride so let’s play trick for trick it’s pretty easy all you guys have to do is set a trick and the rest of people have to copy it it’s almost like a game of bike but there’s like no weird little rules to it there’s no like Mulligan’s or anything like that so trick for trick two strikes okay that’s it two strikes you get your first strike you’re okay second strike you were out of the game sound good alright so first let me go court burglar you were the head judge today so who do you think should go why you go first Ronny Serge hi bro you’re trying to go what kind trick again give us my solo Jeter oh geez oh yeah okay cool it might not be little may be big bro here we go taking nali nali three yeah okay all you people watching right now that wasn’t a G turn that was a nollie 3 but we all love Ronnie and we support his skill set we’re gonna all do the nollie three down good so where’d you learn that move I learn Elf a flatlander missus what woman’s name I can’t remember all right so come on who wants to go next I’ll go so good night all right big boy not nollie 360 on the flat that is not gonna happen today that’s an X that doesn’t count alright okay you know you one strike it doesn’t put me out I’m still in this right I sat next mother lay down hammers on you shot dude I’m next so I’m getting my shot okay who’s up shy Matt good I’ll get it come on commissioner that counts that kills awesome there we go alright Benny me oh you know what say let’s get it video mini no not like three that count that counts as well alright perfect tell us haven’t seen E we got a really mean you judge you know right I’ll even have to bother counts that counted Oh Oh camera camera going over to me camera oh oh oh please don’t lean up easily know what oh yes what would you like not you got that you like dragged your tire a little too far that is beyond even drag my tire judge says judge goes jeez hey you got a strike I got ya here’s a tool it’s in the rule book you can actually veto this if you go and talk to the competitors and you get a full stretch of everybody that goes with it boys was that not like three good enough gotta give it to you well he’s judging my next trick so it doesn’t count I was like yes but just in case I mess up wanna buy that okay and I want to be let off okay cool sorry core you’ve been vetoed whatever alright so let’s get this going next trick is the official underscore big boy come on Big Boy I hope Corey goes a little lenient on you I don’t know what Rick you’re gonna do wrong alright boys next one up I got Shawn Mac I’m gonna do a op 180 180 I got Appa 180 coming up beautiful going big yes next one well I guess you call the opposite 180 we won’t talk about that Indian giver right we’re gonna head judge double thumbs up come on Big Boy you could be out on this one if you donate it I just wanna remind you that is Apple 162 222 hair cap cool thing that’s fine that was a Jersey hop we’re in Jersey account alright let’s eat it up 180 discount cap but I guess we could count it alright after the second round does anybody have X’s here anybody nobody everybody’s good clean slate that guy oh I think we have a cameraman any chance given X Corps I got X nope all right Korea has officially been discontinued as head judge because he’s still on pain medication and he cannot remember when big boy messed up what so we have a new spectator on the trike now let me enter you want to enter yeah wow this guy that’s my trick does come through that’s my that was pretty cool probably false we gonna do inspired on a road bike the other night I’m gonna do hop no fuck him yeah inspired on the road like to do a hop nobody kid that was really good really good who wants to go come on big rod I want to see textbook right here heck’s have the growing x5 over the top chip I mean what side you doing oh that’s one be on the best side possible you know I bet even need to pay to see how small ways I just want to go out there and say that Ronnie does not wear a single pad when he rides and that noise was definitely his pedal macking his shinbone there’s gonna be tears coming out of this man’s eyes right now Jesus come on let it happen I’m an international bad boy go all right let them drip I know you guys do not crying to die oh you’re a nice boy hey listen any man that could sleep in a tent for 12 hours and hit the shinbone like that you’re more of a man than all of us here I’d say that scum a wildcat whose own eggs oh okay good shot back nobody kick in oh let’s go yeah I wasn’t sure you’re gonna skip right over me I know I’m here for you man come on jet black catch a park that was huge if you laid it down my mind would have been blown dude huh forget last night of all again soon when we talked about this I did the intro is like you will get no Mulligan’s in this game gone down beautiful oh there we go counts counts yeah I would ask the head judge but you know we don’t got one anymore because is salsa honorable discharge it’s honorable discharge that judge I’m gonna do 180 half-cat Manuel 180 that’s what I like to see right there a link come on down come on down bro it’s only in your heart oh you get a pack you get a manual three doubt of that all right I think it’s time we take things to the next level what we’re gonna do is a special concoction I came up with this is called the reversal no-footed bunnyhop follow me all right if you all right ready stay back a little bit you all miss it that’s a good thing I’m gonna be very upset with myself very very upset what’s hot well I mean I want to start straight Hoffman otherwise he’ll the film not it doc Pomus it already assume in a position you guys done stay fed on your bikes at the wrong direction long ginger nation baby ginger nation watch this it’s what I could watch in life now but you know I pulled the trick shot doesn’t matter I mean a lot of you guys are watching my channel and you guys on the background of Ronnie Ronnie was a number 10 ranked vert ramp rider in the world he’s with the bring it back it was right now this next trick is a my op Ron give him something that so flatland that they don’t even know his flatland well I think show him something wrong Oh teaching a lesson Oh God do you realize how many people are about to be watching this right now yeah I know people all over the world there he’s checking in dude you want to unleash something that people have never seen before that they’re gonna be like wow that guy Ronnie he’s something else we didn’t have eating days things when they’re gonna have to cool the Thai stand a walk together tips finish wanna you guys heard it I’m a test on all Nicola right you got a French accent if that robot wasn’t so expensive it got kick who’s up next did you ever do that did you ever do the fakie nobler thing oh he didn’t ever take the letter yeah alright taking a letter keep taking action on x1x you always axes here how many X’s you have 1x what about you 1 what about you what about you mom what about you well I almost had one ok but then we took we took care of that problem we actually gave him dishonorable discharge and now he’s a spectator over there you guys probably seen the little guy in the book trike over there I’m gonna do something that I normally don’t do I’m gonna do a tire grab flat I don’t know why but I’m gonna do a tire Gravatar country charger it’s like completely stop the whole tire come on man you can’t just you got a new sign X Games baby she’s hot yeah you got yeah you got this wrong ah you got this oh you know he reversed the wheel they have done like four tire grabs my life let’s go fuck yeah number five ooh sorry Ben that’s an X T I’ll see you later little boy I know Tom’s got this watch this Lewis he’s gonna send it back to the moon Oh take notes take notes sure now take him take your notepad out and take some notes on that cuz even he can give you a lesson on that one he’s gonna send it back to the moon hi thank you alright now you said it back to the moon yeah I’m gonna send it back to the moon guy seriously you’re gonna leave planet Earth ready just walked by here we go no dude I drop my water bottle what happened there I was weird a muscle just came right out of my fuck sure shut up honesty we got a hater come on it can’t target oh yeah yeah yeah yeah Ron I’m sorry man Oh [Music] [Applause] run from another ginger another did you I don’t want to do this but you don’t stop it these games are getting me down man I’m always like the second or third and I can’t really show my full potential it doesn’t matter who’s first out or second out it’s about expanding your horizons and BMX you know so there’s gonna be some tricks out there that you might have never even tried before but it’s all about trying it trying your best and seeing if you can better yourself now this week when this game is over I want you to go back to wherever you’re staying at you know which is probably the room in my house that’s touching I want you to take the bike out and I want you think about all those tricks you had issues with and instead of hating them for what they did to you this week I want you to practice them and I want you to perfect them and come back even stronger I want you to grab that tire I’m gonna grab I want you to grab that tire I want you to grab that tire like Rose should’ve grabbed Jack you know when you hear him go she let him go okay now he’s down here in an ice cube that’s that’s what I’m trying to say there by spending horizons I’m ways out there I’m doing it exactly I’m flying high exactly I can’t believe I missed that let’s try to make the best that you know like a little help really took them to the next level so all right my trick right yeah you know we were going to do a 180 bar spin to have cab bars for now here we go before Corey gets over 180 fakie hop t-bog fakie heck about greasing up I gotta get back at the line Linens this is greatest thing I’ve ever heard is he so good stepping it up an inch oh so Kevin’s saying it well you’re up next you back it up I’m ready for it that was amazing hopefully I’ll land with both hands I’m out I’m out you’re out not long peace out man peace out me and I’m down to the wire to you uh I’ve never done this before a winner and a loser about Cory’s in the sitting position so let’s go right now okay right here that’s the next boys all right my trick I’m gonna do the same trick as I did before 180 bar hand cap bar he’s got the pork you break out let’s go oh you’re so worried about what he’s doing over there that you’re not focused on the trick I got in his head head games I’m having dreams for everything 180 half-cab manual 180 half cap key bug dude then I got to do something though because it really would be high five he’s got the pedaling right now good to meet me I tried there was full commitment right now all right so what I’m going to do I’m gonna do 180 set up fakie do a fakie manual bar spin out fakie yeah just do it I don’t understand what you said to me always yeah sorry sir there we go all right Dom I’m do the same thing back Mabel same you got this you got this right now you got this and your Rico survives around the world that was unbelievable oh do I have to do do you like to do that dreidel come to top maneuver okay okay okay seven you have to polish trick or otherwise you lose this game I know pressure it’s on pressures on I know okay guys there’s a certain sign sitting over there that’s a bike shop yeah sold for so we’re good okay here we go 180 hi guys yeah here we go boys I messed up my footing dumb Simoncini is your flat ground game of bike champion of the world give them victory lap right now just go off flat ground crazy right now just goes do his main flat guy jump again oh yeah keep going keep it going keep it going keep it going just get black just get weird this is your dance floor get all out here oh yeah oh yeah I got trick I got I want you well 180 bars now Tom Tom and Cena killed it I’m gonna try something real quick five talked about this cannot back down oh god please here we go whip match I’m doing it right now this is it thanks for Jack put your nose I saw papa no this was expensive this is expensive hmm no it wasn’t actually but if there is a clothing company out there look in the sponsor hey I’ll do your work rerun I want in blanks breadstick sugar and Alfredo dipping sauce what this is it yes yes what do you think about that boo that you’re sitting in man when you had your first experience at all cards okay think about when they brought they said would you like the breadsticks and would you say yesterday’s exactly no when they said they said you want more breadsticks will you say yes please I said keep them coming to our life let’s keep them coming just keep them coming baby oh my god that’s pretty uninvite your legend Ronny Serge is a man you guys should definitely follow Matt Ronny Serge right now listen we had a fun session tonight if you chat to everybody at Road today big shout to DOM Simoncini for winning the game of bike so we’re about to film it right now but it’s going to go out tomorrow for you guys and yes it does involve the rainbow kicker that’s waiting right there so I hope you guys enjoyed this one until next time remember to subscribe to channel and thanks for watching guys peace
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Erik Malpica Flores Erik Malpica Flores recommends: SUITS Recap: The Real Samantha Wheeler
Photo by: Ian Watson/USA Network
While SUITS has been dragged down by a lack of forward movement — beyond the usual circular storytelling — for its longtime characters, the series’ latest episode finally cleared up some of the mystery surrounding eighth-season-newcomer Samantha Wheeler. In Sam’s first several episodes as a major player at Whatever This Firm Is Called, any backstory she provided was almost immediately erased by some other Insert Firm Name Here employee’s discovery that she told a completely different tale to someone else. Not so in “The Greater Good.” This time, it was Sam‘s turn to find out that something she thought was true about her past wasn’t exactly as she’d remembered it; and SUITS viewers had the unique chance to see some actual facts about where this newest name partner had come from.
And, of course, there were the subplots involving otherwise intelligent folks’ repetitive inability to make good choices.
On SUITS, we develop one character. If, when Katherine Heigl’s addition to SUITS was first announced, you had told me that the best part of the series’ eighth season — or at least the first 81.25% of it — was her character’s development from obnoxious Woman of Mystery to Real, Complex Human…Well. Let’s just say the response wouldn’t have been great. In fact, recaps of SUITS season 8’s earliest episodes weren’t exactly kind Heigl or Wheeler. But here we are. So, let’s do this thing.
Sam’s attempt at being a responsible adult and getting to work on time was a failure. But unlike some folks, she actually had a legitimate reason for leaving home a bit later than planned: a visit from her foster mother, Judy O’Brien. Judy was in trouble because Corey, one of her current foster children, had been pulled over in her car with a bunch of pills. Rather than see Corey’s life ruined, Judy was trying to cover for him; but she needed Sam to keep her out of any criminal trouble in order to be allowed to continue to provide a stable, loving home for her remaining foster children.
Right from the start, Sam wanted Judy to let Corey face the consequences of his own actions, but Judy didn’t want to see Corey face the same fate that Sam once did: “I lost you all those years ago, and I have never regretted anything more. I can’t let something like that happen again.”
(My notes: “I WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THIS!” The SUITS team: Ok! But you have to sit through the Catrina and Donna being very unDonna, too! Me: I’ll take it…for now.)
Because she was conflicted about whether or not she should even take Judy’s case, Sam’s first stop was to see Papa Zane, who was the absolute perfect support system for her throughout the entire ordeal. If the lawyers’ history seemed fake when this new character suddenly appeared, it was certainly validated here.
After a failed attempt at shaking down the prosecutor left Samantha with the realization that this case wasn’t going to be the slam dunk she had hoped, she visited Judy at home — the very place where Sam herself had once lived — in order to deliver the bad news. Things went from bad to worse, though, when Judy let it slide that the state hadn’t exactly ripped Sam away from her all those years ago. She was given a choice and ultimately decided to sacrifice her troublemaking foster daughter for the good of the other children. And Judy refused to repeat a decision that she had come to regret, meaning she refused to accept any deal that involved hurting Corey.
Unable to deal with the news that one of her worst memories was even worse than she’d ever imagined, Sam left Judy and planned to drop the case. This would have made for a pretty short SUITS episode — or, even worse, one with more time for shenanigans — though, so it was time for a bit of an intervention.
Back at The Law Firm of Names and Changing Names, it was Papa Zane who was, yet again, ready to be the best of mentors. He helped Sam to realize that it must have killed Judy to have to admit what happened, and “sometimes, being a parent is living with choices that break your heart.” Ultimately, though, Sam turned out pretty well; and it was this knowledge and her own (redacted) rap sheet that wound up helping keep Judy out of trouble.
While the prosecutor had initially thought that Sam was just some hotshot lawyer, it was her own criminal past that helped her save Judy without ruining Corey’s life. Using her own success in the face of so many early mistakes, Sam was able to convince the prosecutor that taking Corey — or any of the children — away from Judy would prevent from having the opportunity to become a productive member of society like she, eventually, had. Because sometimes, making a tough choice, like the one that Judy made in giving Sam up, is what it takes to be the best possible mother.
Through Sam, SUITS told a great story about the pain that’s sometimes involved in doing the right thing, the many ways just one mistake can change a life, and the possibility that even the biggest screwups can become the greatest successes. Maybe there’s hope.
Speaking of big screwups: Harvey Specter. In SUITS’ seventh season, Harvey finally dumped Paula had Donna ask Stu to do something shady involving a stock. If you forgot about this, you’re not alone. Now, a full season later, that bad move came back to haunt literally everyone. Who’s surprised? Nobody? Good.
Nick, a guy who was basically out for Stu’s throne, spent the entirety of “The Greater Good” trying to blackmail Stu into stepping down, all while Harvey and a barely-focused Donna scrambled to patch things up. It was almost as if they should have learned by now that breaking the law, even if it means helping innocent people keep their jobs, is a terrible idea that will cause trouble later. But why learn, when you can keep doing the same thing over and over, all while having the ego to expect different results?
Harvey’s latest attempt at keeping himself and Donna out of jail involved…trying to get Mike Ross’s former prison boyfriend, Kevin Miller, to try to get Nick to back off. Something about giving him the “hey, Harvey Specter’s someone you don’t mess with” line or whatever? I don’t know. Nobody does — least of all Harvey himself.
Mr. Best Closer In The City also asked (demanded for) Sean Cahill to step in; but that meant admitting to breaking the law, which Cahill promised he’d throw Harvey in jail for if he ever came back asking for another favor like this one. Of course, just as it seemed inevitable that Stu would have to step aside and live on only the massive amount of wealth he’d accumulated thus far, rather than making even more, Harvey realized that he could go to Cahill but with a different take on the whole situation: prove that Nick was out to blackmail folks, which was worse than undercutting stocks.
Rah, rah. Everybody wins…except for SUITS viewers, left wondering why this with so few episodes left.
Of course, it wouldn’t be SUITS if some personal matters weren’t leaked into the legal drama like breadcrumbs to feed those of us just starving for meaningful content. There was the realization that Donna Paulsen, the woman who had always loved her job and fought for it so hard — even when it meant her ruining her whatever-he-is’ relationship with someone else — was suddenly totally fine with being late for work because she’d had a late night with a guy she’d known for five minutes. And, of course, it was predictably exciting to see Harvey get on edge the second Nick brought Donna’s name to the list of people he was taking down.
Perhaps the best part of the whole saga was the shot of a successful, yet lonely, Harvey Specter making calls to Mike’s voicemail about Cahill and the prison boyfriend, just before Donna ignored his two — two! — calls to get ready for another night with Sir Thomas The Presumptuous.
But if all of this has zero payoff, as it has for eight seasons, then it’s just about as pointless as getting Kevin Miller out of prison, only to ask him to risk his newly-stable life to help you save your own sorry hide.
So, we’ll see.
This and that.
“Samantha, when you care about someone, you fight twice as hard.” Mhm.
See also: Harvey fighting for his platonic coworker.
“Be careful what you say next and who you threaten.” GO HARVEY GO. “Looks like I touched a nerve.” HE DID.
We’ve seen all of that before, and yet.
Imagine being so hellbent on keeping a kid from selling some pills that you’re willing to ruin a 65-year-old woman, who you know to be innocent, and her other current and (potential) future foster children. Can’t relate to the system! Don’t want to!
Regardless of where anything else does or doesn’t go, or how frustrating it all may be, that “I miss you, buddy” was golden. As in, it receives a gold medal for creating pain. That may just be the theme of this SUITS episode, honestly.
“Let me just get this straight: Rather than fight for me or even tell me the truth, you gave up? And then years later, walk into my home to have me save you from making the same mistake again.” This performance had me on the floor. Good job, Katherine Heigl.
Also, everything about that previous line, up to and including “you gave up,” could have been from a certain dumb male to a certain just-as-dumb female. I’ll see myself out.
Ok, I’ll admit it: I laughed at the “severance package” Harvey showed Nick.
“I always thought it was the state that took me from her. It turns out it was Judy. She put me back in the system, just when I thought I had a real home. So, tell me: Why should I stick by her, when she didn’t stick by me?” Everything hurts, and I loved this.
“You raised this?” “I did, and I’m proud of her.” CRYING.
“This is where the gravy train ends, and if you ever threaten me again, I’ll take you down on the spot.” Shoutout to Neal McDonough’s Sean Cahill, as always.
I didn’t get a chance to weave the Catrina (Craig from Degrassi x Katrina, for those of you just now joining us) drama into the rest of this, but Louis’ reaction was beautiful. “The only thing I think about you is that you are the same brilliant, wonderful, quirky woman that I’ve had the honor of working with all these years. And that’s never going to change.” I LOVE LOUIS THE WORK DAD. Still not a fan of Louis the ass-slapper, though.
The other takeaway from the Catrina drama? Donna Paulsen needs help. Like. Let’s examine: “I mean, I know what it’s like to have complicated issues with someone you work with — especially when that person can’t have a real conversation about it.” POT, KETTLE, BLACK. Does a “real conversation” involve kissing someone who’s in a relationship, then lying about how it meant nothing?
“Are you talking about…?” “You know who I’m talking about, Katrina.” Yes, we all do. It’s exhausting.
“Sometimes, the answer is to fall for someone who has nothing to do with this place at all.” I’m. Is Donna sick? Is she being held hostage? Is this a pod Donna? Did she borrow some of Craig from Degrassi’s drugs or, like, Corey’s pills??? Clients now have “nothing to do with this place at all,” I guess?????
Ok. Enough of that. Samantha Wheeler and Robert Zane deserve better than to have this SUITS recap end on a low note. So. Let’s talk about the awesome scene where Louis chewed Robert out for bailing on his case was. “That’s enough! I’m not going to listen to another word of your delusions. Because from the minute I stepped down, all I’ve done is help you.” That’s what I’m talking about.
And Vulnerable!Louis? That’s some gourmet shit right there. “It is just…so…much. The pressure, it’s just. Too much.” Been there, hated it.
Catch more SUITS on Wednesday, February 13, at 10/9c on USA.
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Friends & Their Beguilement
Life is a funny thing, when we were younger, we were eager to grow up. But now that we’re grown we’re eager to go back to the times when the world could go no wrong. Life is an idea that all strive to fulfill without knowing how. Life can sometimes be crappy. And it can sometimes be great. In this world, it is easy to lose yourself while on this journey to find yourself. The spontaneity of youth drives us to live how we see fit, regardless of the consequences. Every bad experience I got through temporarily leave me weak but forever makes me stronger. I’ve experienced loss when it comes to love, friends, family, and even myself. But through all the pain I’ve experienced, I haven’t forgotten how to love the life and the individuals I encounter in my life. At the end of the day, I know pain has a silver lining, whether that thing is a lesson or something that will make dealing with life easier. I know it’s all for a reason and that the silver lining in every bad situation will be light in my future and present happiness.
Blessings in Disguise
“Sometimes God teaches allows us to experiences disappointment only to teach us lessons that we could not learn other way, The way which we learn those lessons is not to deny the feelings but to find the meaning that is underlying them.” (Anonymous)
…
“You know Tosha is crying, right? Tati asked. It was a Monday, and I had just got to school. I was just talked to her on Saturday so I was really curious as to what could have her so upset.
“No. I wonder why?” I replied.
“You think she knows about that thing?”
“I mean…I doubt it but…” I began to truly wonder if she had known.
The school counselor, Ms. Martha, Tosha, and I sat in this room It was small, stuffy, and drab. Beyond all the messy papers, a desk that was too small for the both of us, the stinge of protocol drenched the air. Frankly, the thought that a school counselor has to be called to resolve this situation really irked me, and I felt it was unnecessary.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Marth inquired. Tosha glared at me with swollen eyes and a look that could kill. Oh shit…
“No.”
“Tosha.” She began, regarding her with pity filled eyes, “Would you like you to tell her?” She replied with a violent shake of the head.
“Well,” Martha paused to gather her words, “I called you in here today because Tosha was informed of a certain situation. Are you aware of this?”
That’s the day my life began to fall apart.
It was 2010 and it was my first day beginning my freshmen year of high school. I was excited to be placed in Mrs. Cameron’s advisory because I was already familiar with her, and she had really cute boys in her advisory. There was this locker in the back in the back of the classroom that I had wanted but because of senior priority, this boy named Leory had got it. I ended up getting the floor cabinet adjacent to it and was disappointed about it. During advisory, I got real familiar with Isaac Clay and Leroy Bean. Also, Chislon Palmer, but he wasn’t actually in our advisory; he just always hung around. The one that I paid most attention to was Leroy though. There was something about his 5’11 stature, dark skin, and personality that kept my eye. Soon after that, Leroy and I exchanged numbers and our relationship began. Our relationship flourished off the that we were both emotional through poems, writing, and songs.
Into our relationship, he shared with me that he had a first loves and that her name was Mercedez. He said he never loved anyone as much as he loved her and that he dealt with her mood swings because that’s what love as. At fifteen, I believed that was love because I trusted that he would tell me something that we he believed and would live by. Through hearing about his relationship with Mercedez and how reliant he was with her, I began to contemplate how it would be to be with him. Afterall, I met him at a time when my first love had left me unexpectedly and maybe I was looking for someone to fill that gap unconsciously.
By the summer of my freshmen year, Leroy and I had become extremely close and he started to come over about every weekend to spend time with me. During the time he would come over, we talk to each other, we would go to the park, and we would just chill. It was almost like we were in a relationship without titles. He was by my side at all times. At fifteen, I began to wonder if this was what adults called loved. Consequently, we became one, and I didn’t regret it.
It was a dreadful day…My eyes were swollen and I was shaking all out of fear. I slowly types the text:
To Leroy: Still no.
I waited…
From Leroy:…
To Leroy:What do you mean
I waited…10 minutes…15 minutes…then I got scared. Would I be in this alone?
To Leroy:Leroy?
From Leoy: Ill call you later
Seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days but he did manage to call me later that night. I had managed to avoid my mother all day. Had she saw me, I probably would have broken down and thrown away the little sanity I had left.
“Hello?” I answered raspily.
“Hey,: He replied softly.
“So,”I took a big breath to calm down. “It’s been a couple of days.”
“Member the first time?”
“Yes but then it came.”
“Yea”
“I don’t think it is this time…”
“Why?”
“It’s later than last time.”
“Don’t stress.”
“Ok.”
And with that, I resolved my stress only slightly to please him Around the sixth day the missing punctuation mark, I invited him over after telling him the news.
“I can’t cry anymore,” I said.
Silence. I snuggled myself on the couch and hugged myself. He rose from the floor and hugged me, then felt my stomach, and pulled his hand back, I guess alarmed at how hard my stomach actually was.
“I’m sorry,”I whispered.
“I’m sorry,” He replied, voice breaking slightly. I descended to his level and sat on his lap facing him as if he was cradling me. His eye was red and he sniffled. I pretended not to notice. It was funny that this was happening around the time it was. His birthday was coming up shortly and it would be one of a birthday present it say, “Congratulations, you’re a father!”
I imagined Leroy and I would begin to like that one rap song by J. Cole:
He said: “A nigga barely over 20, where the hell we gonna live?...
I refuse to bring my baby boy or girl in this world
When I aint got shit to give em…
And girl I know it hurts, but
If this world was perfect, we can it work but I doubt it…”
Then I’d say: “Trying to take away a life, is you God muthafucka?
I don’t think so, this new life here up in my stomach
Regardless if I’m your wife, this new life here
Imma love it, I aint budging”
We “Lost One” by divine intervention but Leroy wanted that anyways This, at the time, was the most traumatic thing I had ever went through, and it had emotionally left me weak. That instantaneous maternal love that mysteriously grows within a woman is a real thing and that love grows out of when that woman is young and misguided. My love for Leroy had grown to a certain level before that as well seeing as I had tried to make that lifestyle work. After we got over our lost one. He turned around and left me for my best friend and someone I considered a sister, Tosha. By doing that, I began to feel as though I wasn’t good enough to keep him around or even be labeled as his girlfriend. I did not begin to acknowledge my feelings of inferiority at this either. It was not until recently that I began to dissect where all this built-up resentment came from.
This was only the first traumatic thing that held Leroy and I’s relationship together. After Tosha and he began dating on September 13,2012, we vowed to be friends and nothing because couldn’t stand doing something behind Tosha’s back knowingly. When I logged on to Facebook and saw that was in a relationship, I felt my heart drop because I knew it could have only been one person. What made it worse, was I had just asked Leroy out a couple days before and he decline with a subtle, “My relationship life is hectic right now.” BULLSHIT. I literally couldn’t breathe when she told me that she was in a relationship with Leroy. I kept thinking, is this what heartbreak feels like?
My feelings for Leroy never disappeared though. When I asked him why he simply said, “I love her” as of his reasoning could explain why I was in so much pain. He wasn’t acknowledging the last six months of our secret relationship or maybe that’s why it was a secret? Ironically, Tosha and I began getting closer to where we began calling each other sisters. I was over her house every weekend, and she saw me as her confidant. This was hard for me while was happily in love with Leroy so was I. only one of his friends knew about us, Chislon. When Leroy and I shared lockers in advisory, it was obvious we liked each other. It made getting over him ten times harder. Every day, he messed with him, and I’d mess with him then. Then Tosha would get a pass to come mess with him. It made things very awkward. I felt as a sister, I needed to come clean about the history I had been hiding.
“Can I tell her now?” I pleaded.
“No, it’ll mess thing up between me and her,” replied Leroy.
“She deserves to know the truth…”
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t tell her.”
“She won’t. I only Chislon and you only told Ronya.”
I hesitated. I always heard that what is done in that dark always comes to light, but I reluctantly said, “Okay Bwestfrann.” I valued Leroy’s position in my life more than I did Tosha’s; therefore, I never told her, and I them live happily everafter.
Leroy and I’s friendship was deadly. In a figurative an literal sense. My mom always worked the night shift and he lived within walking distance so he would come over on the weekend with his friends. His friends were Chislon, Aaron, Donte, Francei, Corey, and Issac. Hanging out with these guys would prove to be the ultimate example of peer pressure.
These guys did not care about anything but having a good time and neither did I. Tp them, I was one them. I just happened to have a vagina. We would rife out late at night and nto get back until even later in the night. We would go somewhere to smoke, drink, or talk about the girls they treat like whores. I was considered part of the crew: the loyal female. It was Leroy who taught me how to smoke weed and roll up, therefore, I always smoked with him and the crew. The rule was what happened within the crew stayed within the crew the and we all obeyed it.
Soon, things began to become distorted. I was noticing Leroy was hinting that one of his crew membered to have relationship with me. That night, I was high and thought whatever, it’s just a little something. Hence, I took the crew member to the back room, anxious as ever. I was shaking. He noticed my hesitation. He told me to relax. I found it extremely awkward that I would something with him because although I found him very attractive, I never thought of
being in this position with him. It was the worse sexual encounter ever. We both agreed to act as it never even happened. Only the four people in house know about that one. But this started something that would soon spiral out of control.
I was dizzy, so dizzy someone assisted walking me in the house. Everyone was there besides Chisolm and Aaron. I didn’t know they had me smoking, but it was something unusual. I felt like I was completely unaware of my body movements. I begged Leroy for a hug. Two of the crew members said they have something to show me in the back room. I got real tired suddenly. I wanted lay down. I followed them to the room. They sat me in a chair and the next thing I know im giving head of them. Whatever, it’s just a little something, I thought. I thought it would be over soon, but then the second crew member stood me up, then enters me from behind. I tried screaming but those were muffled. I wiggled and moved. I’m so dizzy I thought I was going to fall over. The second crew member gets mad and leaves us. It’s pitch dark now. It was always dark now. It was always dark. The first crew member laid me down and my body felt as if it weighed a on. I couldn’t move. He entered me. I sat there and was completely silent.
I honestly didn’t register what was happening until it was already happening.
“Stop,” I said.
“I’m almost done,” He replied.
“No, stop,” I try getting up and can’t move. I try fighting and can’t fight hard enough. I laid there until it was over.
“I walk out to the couch, in a daze. They all leave first. Leroy and Francei stay behind.
“What’s wrong?” Francei asks.
“I think I was raped.” I reply.
Leroy didn’t believe what I said. Francei is shocked an hugs me. He tells me to call him later and I did. That’s when I thought about how a ‘doorknob’ could be raped? Everyone gets a turn, it was hard thinking to that I was raped because I blame myself for it. I shouldn’t have trusted a group of high, intoxicated guys in the first place, and my history with the crew probably made it seem like it was okay to take advantage of me like that. It made me wonder for a long time until none of it made sense. Soon, I repressed it to the back of my mind, and left it there hoping I’d forget about it.
I t is now November 03,2012 and I decided to spend it with the crew. I stopped talking a few of them due to prior incidents but it was Leroy, Francei, Donte, and some named Tavaughn. I found a bag of weed and had one of them sell half of which yielded me 50 dollars, and we smoked rest then brought more weed with the revenue. We were hotboxing with the Sour Diesel on the on the way to WSU, I was higher than I had ever been. I was inclined to jump out the car to get fresh air but the damage is already done. First, we’re in Francei’s dorm. I’m laying down because I am so sick from it. They’re playing a game, and I’m trying to sleep. Tavhaugn comes on the bed and starts feeling me up. I scream NO and he immediately gets up when everyone looks at him. I am no glutton for punishment…at least I thought I wasn’t at the time. Suddenly, I felt so sick and was trying to signal to someone get me a trashcan, but I was already throwing up everywhere: all on my clothing, the bed, the carpet.
Embarrassment was not even the word. I went in the shower fully dressed and washed off the vomit. Leroy paid to have my clothes washed, and I had to walk half naked, wrapped in a blanket to Leroy’s dorm. He wouldn’t let me lay down because he didn’t want me to throw up again. France was furious, and they made me clean it up with wet wipe. Later that day, drove me home and said it was all okay. He led, but the comfort was nice. I threw the extra 20 dollars at him because I felt he was mocking my embarrassment by shaming me silently. I got on Twitter to see that Donte had took a picture of me wrapped up in the blanket and posted on Twitter with the caption, “Sakena threw up every. This bitch threw,” He tagged the whole crew. Everyone responded but Leroy and Francei, but I was still angry because Leroy knew when it happened and didn’t stop it. I thought he was a friend that I could count on. That marked the decline of our friendship and the beginning of my insanity.
I told Tosha the situation, and she simply stated, “He can’t control his friends,” then I knew I was in this world alone. All the friends I thought I had, had their own agendas. I began think why I even allowed myself to go through all that pain just because of a single person. Because of him, my self-worth and value had been distorted to the point that I believed that if a boy would have sex with me, that was a beauty. He had me thinking that drugs were okay, that meaningless sex was okay. Guess I did it all to fit in, to still be call that loyal female to the crew. Maybe I did it because I did not want to lose Leroy. Maybe I did it because there was nothing else to do. These thoughts slowly manifested themselves into some else other than myself which I lived as for about a year.
After the train wreck with the crew, I feared serious relationship, but a girl had her needs. I did not want anything with a trust factor because that sets you up to be betrayed. I did not want anything with feeling that sets you up to get a broken heart and I didn’t want anything with commitment because that false notion did nothing but made it hurt more once they decided to they to leave. Sex was all I knew to ease the pain I felt – and I was feeling a long of pain I could not understand but it was real and constant.
There was this boy at my school that I kind of fancied. His name was Kassey. I called him Jiggly Puff. I did not like him but I was attracted him -- The most dangerous combo. He’s a 6”3’, caramel skinned, big lipped, and nicely dressed young man who was actually the completely opposite of what I am attracted to. He was a huge class clown which I usually hated, Our rendezvous began spontaneously. It was more of a mutualistic exchange of pleasure. At first, it was great. It eased the pain and everything. I told a few people. He began this hectic off and on a relationship with the presumed love of his life, Jai’lyn. I wouldn’t allow him to fulfill his need while that went on, but while they were broken up, we did our thang.
In spite of myself, I began to trust him. Maybe it was because he was there during the nights when the silent walls seemed to scream the loudest. He scared those walls into complete silence. We shared a few intimate conversations. Next thing I know, we’re talking at school. The whole thing was meant to be a secret. In lull moments, he’d randomly kiss me when no one else was looking. It’s leave me flustered. That’s when I began to realize I liked im, but I didn’t really know why.
When I came to this realization, it seemed he liked me too. He became more affectionate and more willing to walk that dreadful 45-minute walk to my place. He was nicer in public. He even asked me to be his girlfriend, although it was a joke. It was funny that he even contemplated it. I let my guard down it after that. I figured we had the same amount to lose at that point.
He had a friend which he regarded as a best friend. I hated that friend because he ran his ran his mouth to the world and the key to keeping our rendezvous a secret was to NOT tell him no matter what. He did not listen and told him the details of one of our encounters after some speculation was already in the air bout us. From that day, forth, my sophomore year turned into a living Hell, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted liked him. I just have left it alone. But who is really to blame?
It’s hard to lie about something you know is true. Especially, if you’re a bad liar. I decided I’ll ignore it. That didn’t work at all. I said okay, maybe owning up it will remove the fuel from it. That only made matters worse. The ridicule came from every direction and every person I ever considered as a friend it hurt. I hated going to school. I looked in the eyes of people I called brothers and sisters, people I had been friends with since 7th grade whom laughed and teased me all because I trusted a boy who exposed me.
My Twitter became a battleground for the class of 2014. I couldn’t tweet normally. I was being subtweeted about being a hoe, being trashy, being this and that when I was just minding my own business. What hurt me the most was one of the girls that attacked me was exposed the same way I was freshmen year, and I was there for her. But when the tables are turned, shit is completely different. Friends turn into foes. Some would mention me, some wouldn’t. I was damn near a trending topic. To make matters worse, he tweeted about how he exposed me and people that didn’t even attend DECA were calling me a hoe. It was free for all, and I was a target.
I played it cool on Twitter though. I acted as if none of it phased me. At first, I bickered back but then I realized it was pointless bicker with little childish females, and if they had a real issue, we could fight about it the next at day at school. I made tweets, “Y’all making me famous” & “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” to try and deflect it. They got even madder, and I didn’t care after a while. I was being sad. I was filled with pure fury at that point. I went to school dressed to fight WHOEVER had something to say. I didn’t care. People take advantage of me because I’m too soft spoken, and I play the bigger person. Well, that shit was stopping today. Mrs.Cameron brought me to my senses.
“I’m frustrated,” I said.
“I’m sure. What happened?” She asked. The first bell had rung, and she said it’s best u talk to her before I go back to class to prevent any fights.
“He exposed me and think it’s funny. Now everyone on Twitter has something to say about it. And when I got to school, I told them I would be ready for whatever.”
“Stooping down to their level is not worth it. You can do much better than them and him especially. Why did you choose him anyways?
“I don’t know,” Then I about what she asked me. Why did I give myself to someone who made no kind of commitment to me? “….I was missing something and he filled it.”
She peered at me as if she knew instantly when my problems were. “How’s the relationship with your father?”
“Same ‘ol. Unreliable, so I don’t rely on him. It’s just mom and me.”
“You know, when I was younger, I used to smoke cigarettes?”
“No way. The health conscious, vegan, Mrs. Cameron?
“Yep. I was in college and I was going through a terrible breakup. It seems us woman need a male figure in our lives no matter how hard we act like we don’t. I was rebellious at that age and thought I could do anything I wanted. Anyways, I started smoking because I could. During the break, up, I was very frustrated and found I couldn’t believe that pent up stress. Then, I found art. I found myself no longer stressed, and I stopped smoking too. What I’m saying is, you’re trying to fill the void with sex, but it’s not going to work. Your need to find something with substance, something that truly alleviates your pain inside. But you must find that within yourself, not anyone else.”
Throughout the course of the day, I thought about this concept heavily. Is the void I’m feeling due to the that my father and I have a wrecked relationship? My mother doesn’t bring many men around so I never had a male figure around to look towards besides the boys at school. Could this be the reason why my feelings for boys stem from something as simple as reliability? It was a new perspective on life.
When that storm blew over, I found myself moving on to someone else. Its easy to find them. During this journey, I developed a lot of negative feelings towards myself. Pretty hurts when a dark skinned girl who didn’t take half naked pictures or dress provocatively. I hardly got any compliments. My light skinned friend, Ronya, got all the compliments. I hated going out with her. The only compliments I would get had a sexual connotation. My relationship with Leroy gave me confidently through sex, ironically. It was the sex that would ultimately destroy any positive image I had of myself as well as peer of me.
I hated looking, honestly. I had no kind og self-confidence to speak of at this point. I saw the ugliness of people and of myself and hated all of it. It left me lost in a world I was afraid to speak to anyone about. This is when I began eating lunch by myself and not including myself as much as I used to. I purposely isolated myself in hopes that I ever went through anything like that again, it wouldn’t hurt as much because would already be outcast I began believing I had no friends at that time. I did not know my insecurities were just particular to myself nor did I know I could become my own enemy.
Through all this pain, I learned a lot when it comes to a relationship. Most people use a relationship as a clutch to hide their own problems or use them as a vessel to express themselves. This could cause someone to become extremely reliant on someone instead of themselves. This leads to immense disappoint which would make someone disillusioned about friendships. This is what happens to me and I learned to depend on myself but it’s healthy to rely on anyone else. Believing that you can rely on yourself allows you to become invisible towards life. This is the silver lining that I learned from my friendship experiences.
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