#this is how i started writing the alive shannon fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

demontoucansam · 2 years

Text

BBC Ghosts OC Questions: Shannon Rose

you can find all the questions without my answers here from the lovely @jamiewintons

(if I ever write a fic about her and Thomas, it'll absolutely be called "Every Rose Has Its Thorne" because I'm a disgustingly cheesy bitch)

So before I get started, the Shannon timeline is a bit interesting. For the majority of these answers, she is alive and well! She doesn't die until after she's lived at Button House for over 2 years. LET'S GET INTO IT!

1. What era does your character originate from?: Modern day! She started renting a room at Button House during the pandemic. Button House couldn’t get any event bookings and Shannon’s band couldn’t land any gigs. Mike and Alison needed money and Shannon couldn’t afford rent at her old apartment. Once the pandemic lets up a bit, Shannon's band ends up becoming the Button House band. It all worked out quite well!

2. How old was your character at their time of death?: late 20’s, maybe early 30's (I haven’t decided on an exact age yet)

3. How did your character die? Is there any visual indication of their cause of death?:

Okay this is kinda complicated so I'll start with how she is able to see the ghosts. Shannon had a unique near death experience a few years prior to coming to Button House. She was attacked by a fan turned stalker in an alleyway. He shot her and then quickly fled the scene. Luckily, a ghost nurse with similar abilities to Julian was nearby and was able to slow the bleeding enough before an ambulance came. Without her, Shannon would have died. As she was slowly bleeding out, Shannon was flickering between dead and alive, between being able to see the nurse helping her and her disappearing. She needed something to anchor her in the moment so she grasped at the nurse's wrist, holding it steady. Even when she was fully alive and couldn't see the nurse, she managed to maintain her hold on to that invisible, ghostly wrist. Post that near death experience, she could then see and touch ghosts! She can turn it on and off instinctually though, like how the ghosts can either walk through a chair or choose to sit on it. She can choose to pass through them or physically interact with them.

For her actual death, she was diagnosed with inoperable ovarian cancer. Rather than endure fruitless treatments, Shannon decided to face death head on and opted for medically assisted suicide at Button House. Her doctor, sister, Alison, and Thomas were present when she ingested the dosage. Her sister and Thomas were each holding one of her hands as she passed on.

4. Which of their fellow ghosts is your character closest to?: Kitty, Pat, Humphrey, and Thomas

5. Are there any ghosts that your character doesn’t get along with? If so, who, and why do they not get along?: She and Julian don’t have too much to talk about. I think part of it is jealousy of Shannon's ability. He's kind of limited to just his finger while her gift affects her whole body. Also he’s a bit of a peeping Tom but that's a whole other story.

6. What is your character’s relationship with Alison like?: Once Shannon moved in and accidentally revealed that she could see the ghosts, she and Alison quickly bonded over their shared gifts (Mike was a bit annoyed that someone else could see the ghosts and he still couldn’t). They’re good friends and share a lot of the management of the ghosts needs. Since Shannon can actually physically interact with the ghosts, they come to her a bit more often. Kitty has Shannon pass on a lot of hugs for Alison!

7. Does your character have a romantic interest in anyone? If so, who? Is there any chance that a relationship will blossom between them?: Thomas, of course! Before Shannon arrived, Thomas had fully given up on someone returning his affections. He’d stopped fawning over Alison and falling for anyone who walked through the door. As Alison was interviewing potential renters, she was honestly surprised that Thomas wasn’t drooling over every candidate. But then in came Shan. He learned from Alison that his previous forms of courting were overbearing so he really had to slow things down, build a friendship first and be happy if that's all that resulted from it. It took a while but they eventually got together once she initiated under the mistletoe one Christmas!

The news of Shannon’s diagnosis was bittersweet for Thomas. He wanted so much more for her than the cards she was dealt but he’s ultimately glad that he’ll never have to lose her now! With their unique circumstances, they spent a lot of time talking about the eventual expiration date of their relationship. The diagnosis, while again not what anyone wanted, was in some ways a relief. That sounds kinda messed up but I promise it makes sense in the bigger picture.

8. If it was your character’s turn to pick for Film Club, what film would they choose and why?: My Best Friend’s Wedding! It’s got everything: romance, comedy, a few singing sequences, and an ending that makes her cry every time!

9. What kind of television shows does your character enjoy? Would any of the other ghosts want to watch with them?: She loves long, cinematic tv shows that she can binge with Pat! Stuff like Lost or GoT! Something where they can theorize and delve into the lore.

10. Does your character try to interact with Mike, despite knowing that he cannot see or hear them?: She and Mike were good friends when she was alive! Once she’s died, she still tries to interact with him through nudges, writing notes, or typing on the laptop. Julian tries to impersonate her in those moments though so she has to keep an eye on him.

11. What kind of books would Alison buy for your character?: Shannon loves audiobooks! She and Fanny love listening to murder mysteries! They are currently reading the Thursday Murder Club series and anxiously awaiting the next release!

12. Does your character have a special power? If yes, is there any meaning to why your character has this particular power? (for example, is it related to how they died, or indicative of their personality?): Her ability to interact with the ghosts in life has flipped so she can still physically interact with the land of the living in death. It’s very natural and instinctual; it doesn’t take effort and concentration like it does for Julian (again fueling the jealousy. I hope they bury the hatchet at some point!)

13. How do they act on their death day? Do they become withdrawn, upset, or does it simply not bother them anymore?: She doesn’t really mind it that much! Shan was really at peace with her decision to end her life. She and Thomas view it has a bit of an anniversary (almost an engagement) for their relationship so if anything it’s a happy occasion!

14. How did they react to realising that they were dead and had become a ghost?: Since she planned her death meticulously, she knew what to expect. She interviewed all the ghosts before about what the experience of dying was like. Once she had passed on, she took everything in slowly, taking note of every change. It was almost scientific.

15. What was your character’s relationship with their family/friends like when they were alive?: Her parents had passed on before her (father to early-onset dementia, mother to covid). She had a great relationship with both of them but their deaths were long, drawn out, and filled with suffering. When faced with that herself, she knew she wanted different. But that meant leaving behind her older sister, Meredith. They had never been very close. Meredith was always the good kid, now a perfect wife and mother while Shannon was a bit of a loose cannon. They made peace in the end though.

All of her (living) friends are in her band, her best friend being the rhythm guitarist, Ross. They've been best friends for years and started the band together in early high school. The rest of the band members have changed over the years, but Shan and Ross stay the same.

16. If your character saw Humphrey’s head left stranded on the floor, what would they do?: Scoop him up and go bird watching! It’s their favorite thing to do together!

17. What kind of music would your character enjoy? Would they be willing to get up and perform for Music Club?: Being a musician, Shannon has a very eclectic taste in music. All of her friendships with the ghosts started with bonding over a shared music taste. 70’s music is all Pat, boy bands are Kitty’s fav, Fanny loves Barbra Streisand! Thomas really struggled finding a musical foothold with Shannon so they spent a lot of time trying to find something in common. In the end, they decided to write something together. She handled the music and he wrote the lyrics. They’d probably perform one of their originals for music club!

18. What kind of activities does your character wish they could participate in, but cannot due to being dead? (Especially things that weren’t around when they were still alive): She really misses performing with her band! They ended up becoming the house band for Button House once the pandemic started letting up and still play for a lot of their events. Shan still gets to see them but so wishes she could be up on the stage with them! She misses her buddies, Ross in particular.

19. What would your character wear if they could today?: Honestly, I haven’t figured out what she’s wearing in death yet. When she settles on assisted suicide, she becomes obsessed with the aesthetic of death. Should she wear a skirt, jeans? Hair up or down? Makeup? Contacts or glasses? Would sleeping with earring backs poking you in the head be annoying for the rest of time or do you get used to it at some point? Even dumb things like her pubic hair! Does she need to book a wax before she dies? I mean this is the rest of eternity we’re talking about! It all becomes really overwhelming! And Thomas isn't helpful at all with the decision making!!

20. Did your character witness the deaths of any of the ghosts that died after them?: Nope!

21. How does your character feel about the plague ghosts?: She was a bit overwhelmed when she first met them. There’s just so many in such a small space. But she loves how comfortable and respectful they are with each other! They are so content despite their circumstances! She doesn’t spend too much time with them but she likes them!

(Choose your own question! Ask me anything about my character!)

#wowzers that was a lot #but this is my favorite thing to think about so it's got ass loads of details #this was fairly restrained if you can believe it #shannon rose #thomas x shannon

3 notes · View notes

bisexualbuck · 4 years

Text

My 911 Fic Writing Masterlist

(Last edited May 28th 2021)

I’ve finally decided to do a masterpost of all my writing for the show 911 which is the fandom I’ve written the most for. There are 33 fics in this post, holy crap.

(If anyone is interested, I’ve also written for Star Trek AOS, Leverage, the MCU, among many other fandoms.)

As a general note, I’ll say most of my fics have Buddie elements and I also try to have at least one Firefam moment. Also, please check each fic’s warnings.

This is going to be long so most of it will be under a read more.

Last thing, please! If you like any of these stories, please consider leaving a comment and reblogging this post.

Multi Chapter

Reaching In The Dark | 38.7k

It all started innocent enough but Buck can no longer deny it.

He has a stalker.

Someone so obsessed with him that they would spend hours and hours following him, unnoticed, taking pictures of him, taking notes of his habits.

But life has been so good lately, and Buck doesn’t want to worry anyone. So he tells no one about it, he can deal with it on his own.

Leave My Body | 23k

"Do you want to see how it could have been? You are so sure you've been a burden on everyone you've ever met, but I can show you the truth."

Buck dies but it's not the end.

(Inspired by the movie It's a Wonderful Life)

Encore | 20.1k

“I’m going insane.”

“Did something happen?”

A dark, bitter laugh bubbles out of Buck – a mockery of joy.

“Everything keeps happening, and it’s still the same fucking day. It’s always the same and every time it’s different and I can’t do anything.”

Buck keeps reliving the same day, over and over again.

Hurt/Comfort

Death, Be Not Proud | 10.1k

There are moments barge loudly into your life and, even as you’re going through them, you know they will change everything.

There are other moments that happen quietly, unnoticed, and it’s only afterwards that you know, looking back, that they have changed your life.

When the 118 is called to a decrepit house, they don’t think much of it.

Yet this will change their lives forever.

Silent Storm | 4.4k

Buck wakes up in the hospital.

Except he can't move. He can't speak.

But he can hear everything.

Dying Of The Light | 4.1k

If Purgatory was a place on Earth, it would be a hospital waiting room.

Buck is in a coma, brain-dead - or so that's what the doctors say anyway.

(Silent Storm told from the Firefam's POV)

No Kingdom To Come | 8k

Days pass, then weeks that soon turn into months. Buck doesn’t call, he doesn’t text.

They don’t even know if he is still alive.

Maddie files a missing person’s report. Athena checks for any mention of his name anywhere in the country.

Nothing pops up, no one calls.

Buck is gone.

The Courage To Heal | 1.4k

He remembers her perfume. Thick, flowery – it makes him retch.

Why does he remember her perfume? Every time he smells anything like it, he wants to throw up, he wants to rush in the shower and try to wash away the stink of it.

Why can’t he move on?

He’s had sex with countless people over the years, especially back in his Buck 1.0 days, so why does that encounter remain? Why does it make him sick?

Why does he feel so ashamed?

Buck opens up about Dr Wells, the therapist from season 1.

The Loneliness Never Left Me | 2k

“Buck is afraid he is gonna end up like Red, without friends, without family. He thinks the job is the only thing he’ll ever have and that he’ll always be alone.”

Silence falls around them, heavy and suffocating.

“We need to show him that he’s got us."

“Not show him,” Chim says. “Tell him.”

Forever Day | 2k

The man pulls a gun out.

He aims it at Buck’s head.

“If you take another step I will blast your brains on the ground."

Hollow | ~300

Bobby on the day of his late wife and kids’ deaths, with Athena by his side.

Those Days | ~600

A look into Eddie and Christopher having a bad day made better by having each other.

Little Hope | ~500

A moment of support between two friends, Karen and Eddie, as Hen lays unconscious in a hospital bed.

Firefam Feels

Alone Again | 1.2k

Post S04E04

After standing up for himself to his parents, Buck feels hollow.

He isn't sure how he finds himself at Athena and Bobby's home, but maybe that's exactly where he needs to be.

Make It Three | 3.2k

It takes him twenty full minutes to realize what he has said, and then it hits him like a goddamn freight train.

Oh no. Oh no.

Buck just hung up on the phone on Athena Grant telling her that he loved her like he’s been doing it every day of his life.

Oh no.

Buck slips up and tells Athena he loves her. He has a bit of a freak out.

Words Unsaid | 2.2k

“What’s going on?” Bobby and Buck say in unison.

“You two,” Athena announces, “are going to talk things out.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Buck says, like a liar. “Everything is fine.”

Buck overhears Bobby say that he's not his kid. He doesn't take it very well.

Lay You Down | 2k

Buck is sick and can't be left alone in his feverish state, but everyone is working.

Everyone but Athena.

That Which We Carry | 2.1k

Bobby stops in his tracks.

Buck is sitting on the ground, next to his own car, his keys and phone forgotten next to him. His breathing is loud and short and he has his head in his hands so that his face is hidden.

He’s having a panic attack.

To Be Loved, To Belong | 3.1k

5 times Buck almost tells his family what they mean to him.

+1 time he does.

Buried | 2.3k

It’s supposed to be a simple call.

Of course, everything goes wrong.

Just As It Was | 2.3k

After the lawsuit, Buck overworks himself trying to prove his worth to the team.

One day, he pushes too far.

Sunlight | ~500

The Buckley siblings have a bet about what Maddie and Chim’s kid’s first word will be.

Family Matters | ~500

A look into the future at Bobby’s retirement party.

Humor & Fluff

Freedom In Love | 1.1k

“You can’t keep ignoring this,” Maddie says – again.

She says it a lot. His answer is pretty much always the same.

“Actually, I can. And I think I will. This is working great for me so far. It’s like Schrödinger’s confession, if I don’t say anything, Eddie can’t reject me.”

Green Heart | 3k

Buck starts seeing a man.

Eddie worries he is being a bigot, because the idea of Buck kissing another man makes him want to punch someone.

What else could it be?

The Most Perfect Moment | 1.7k

After Shannon, Eddie never thought that he would ever want to get married again.

Yet, a little red box lays in his pocket until the perfect moment to propose comes around.He has been carrying it for weeks now, waiting.

He wants his proposal to be perfect because he knows that this is the last time he will ever be asking this question. Buck is it for him. There will never be anyone else.

Blame It On Chimney | 1k

“So anyway, that’s how Chimney saw me full-on naked.”

Eddie chokes on his beer.

How It Looks | ~400

Someone is back to haunt Chim. Well, not exactly someone. Hen is tired.

The Rest Of Our Lives | ~500

One night, one conversation that changes everything between Buck and Eddie.

Tumblr Prompts

lover, be good to me | 7.1k

This is a collection of unrelated prompts first posted on my tumblr.

(Summary of each story in the first chapter's notes)

Eddie touching Buck’s birthmark | ~300

Eddie in a relationship is a clingy Eddie | ~200

Halloween at the station | ~500

Buck & Maddie being their cute selves | ~400

Misc.

from the bottom i come running | 3.7k

Co-written with the endlessly talented ksmalltalk / @letitialewiss

Crossover with Lone Star.

Just a soccer match for charity and two men cheering on their boyfriends.

Wait, no. Eddie and Buck are not dating, no matter what Chim and Hen can say.

In the stands, Eddie befriends TK whose boyfriend is playing alongside Buck. Out on the pitch, Buck and Carlos are a force to be reckoned with.

Oh, and someone gets hurt.

safe inside | 5.6k

Co-written with the biggest-brained and most talented chasingobligion / @starlightbuck

World-famous actor TK Strand and his bodyguard Carlos find themselves seeking shelter from fans and paparazzi in a bakery Carlos knows very well.

Baking leads to a few life changes.

Breathe You In | 2k

Eddie can’t stop staring.

This selfie is going to be the death of him.Buck is shirtless, and giving the camera an intense look that leaves Eddie panting.

Buck sends a picture that tips their relationship into something new.

#911 #911 fic #buddie #firefam #evan buckley #eddie diaz #my writing #this took me FOREVER #it's also about to kill my computer because tumblr is lagging so much so i'm just gonna post #if there is an issue with the links or something else please reach out to me thanks!!#and please reblog and comment if you like my writing!!#i might come out of fic writing hiatus at some point soonish #edited

139 notes · View notes

sineala · 4 years

Text

Captain America Corps

[This is a repost from my Patreon.] An extra review for everyone this month! I wasn't actually planning to write a review of Captain America Corps, but, then, I wasn't planning to love it as much as I did, either. Surprise! This has been the Book Club selection on the 616 Steve/Tony Discord server for the entirety of September, and it took me all month to get around to reading it, and when I finished reading it on Marvel Unlimited I immediately ran to the internet and ordered myself a copy of the trade paperback, because I needed one of my very own to cuddle. This review contains spoilers for the entirety of the series, so leave now if you don't want to know them. (It also contains a few pictures of elements that you may wish to avoid if you are sensitive to body horror in fiction.)

Captain America Corps is a five-issue miniseries written by Roger Stern, whom you may remember from such classics as his Avengers run featuring the Under Siege arc and his short but extremely memorable Cap run with John Byrne. The art here is by Phillipe Briones, who I don't think I've seen in any other book, but it's nice enough, I suppose. Anyway, it was published in 2011 and is also set then (well, sort of) -- so Bucky is still Captain America (though not for much longer) and Steve is Commander Rogers. (It is still available in trade paperback but it is technically out of print, so you should act now if you want a paper copy.) The best way I can describe my feelings about this book is thus: you know how David Michelinie's 1979 Avengers novel I read and reviewed a few months ago, The Man Who Stole Tomorrow, had an amazing premise -- Kang the Conqueror freezes Steve again and takes him to the future and the Avengers have to go time-traveling to get him back -- but it completely flubbed the actual execution of said premise? Well, Captain America Corps is a lot like that, but it absolutely, perfectly nails it. The premise isn't exactly the same, but it is definitely Peak Comics in the best zany madcap way, and the more you know about canon, the more your familiarity will be rewarded. Captain America is being kidnapped. But not just one Captain America -- Captains America across the multiverse are being stolen, and history is changing around their disappearances. A cosmic entity by the name of Tath Ki has made it his business to right these wrongs, and so to do this he kidnaps some more Captains America of his own. He ends up with a team of five: the Captain America of 1941 (Steve Rogers), USAgent (John Walker, from a small but unspecified number of years prior to 2011), the Captain America of 2011 (Bucky Barnes), American Dream (Shannon Carter, from the MC2 universe), and Commander A (Kiyoshi Morales, from several centuries in the future). So you can see already that this is going to be fun. All the Caps, in my opinion, are very well-characterized -- Steve is painfully earnest and a little inexperienced; Bucky is cynical, jaded, and he kind of can't believe that 40s Steve is looking up to him, which is really sweet; and John Walker is, of course, a complete asshole. I wanted to punch him in his stupid face multiple times, so clearly his characterization is perfect. I can't speak to Shannon's characterization because I've never read MC2, and Kiyoshi is new as of this book, but he is also excellent. So, obviously, because this is a Captain America book, there is a terrible dystopian future for them to fight -- and to show them what's at stake, Tath Ki drops them right in the middle of Dystopian Times Square, and they all get rounded up and imprisoned, whereupon they promptly stage a prison break for the various superheroes (Sam Wilson, Luke Cage, Peter Parker...) that they meet, before Tath Ki brings them back to his home base talk about it, now that he's convinced them that this is a future they have to stop.

(The law enforcement of the dystopian future includes several Americops and the Ameridroid. Remember those guys from the Cap comics? I sure do! Whee!) Tath Ki explains the situation here on this Earth, because obviously there has been some divergence. And the divergence point is this: the Avengers never found Captain America in the ice in Avengers #4. Two new women -- Broad-Stripe and Bright Star (why, yes, those are deeply unsubtle code names) -- ended up on the team instead, but, well... the Avengers just didn't work without Steve, and right when they ought to have founded the Kooky Quartet in Avengers #16, they disbanded instead. All because they'd never met Captain America. Thor went back to Asgard. Hank ended up in a psych ward. Tony died during heart surgery. (Don't worry, I'm coming back to this point later. So is the comic.) So the Caps split up to go see what they can find out about the remaining Avengers. Jan is hanging out with Sue Storm but has been warned about Kiyoshi and Shannon by the villain, and she kicks them out. Steve and Bucky break Hank out of the psych ward. And Tath Ki takes John Walker to Tony's tomb... to find that Tony's brain is missing from his body. Uh-oh. That's never a good sign.

And, oh, yes, Broad-Stripe and Bright Star are the villains of this series. And, what's more, Broad-Stripe is actually Superia, whom you will remember from the infamously terrible Cap arc The Superia Stratagem. It was really bad. It was really, really bad. But reading this has now retroactively made reading that worth it. Anyway, they're the ones who have been kidnapping all the Caps, and the Cap Corps here teams up with the local resistance force (yes, of course there's a resistance) to fight their way to the villains' headquarters. And do you know who else is at the villains' headquarters? It's Tony! I mean, it's Tony's brain. In a jar. Alive. And conscious. (And his eyeballs. I don't know why or how he still has his eyes. I'm trying not to think about that.)

The fact that Tony is now a brain in a jar is what the #book-club channel has been shrieking about with horrified glee for an entire month. If you like sad Tonys, there is no sadder Tony than this. You cannot make a sadder Tony than this. He is a brain in a jar. It's like everything about his favorite transhumanism, gone wrong. He's been there for years. He has never known Steve Rogers, and doesn't that just break your heart? He's suicidal. He begs the villain to finally kill him. He begs Hank to kill him, whether or not the good guys win. His life -- or undeath, or whatever it is -- is so awful that death is, for him, the happy ending. (We already know, canonically, that Tonys who never meet Steve are the saddest Tonys. Fantastic Four: Dark Reign #2, the issue that famously gave us Earth-3490, also gave us a look at Earth-1735, in which Steve is found very late in the superheroing game and Tony has clearly spent all the time in which they should have been Avengers together instead drinking his life away.) Sad Brain Jar Tony fills the good guys who find him -- Hank, Bucky, and Kiyoshi -- in on the villains' backstory and plans, which is basically that Superia has been stealing all the Captains America and has joined up with AIM and gotten herself a Cosmic Cube to shove them all into, and I'm sure we all guessed that that was happening because what even is a good Cap plot without a Cosmic Cube? Anyway, 1940s Steve doesn't meet Tony personally, as far as I can tell, but he does get to hear about him being alive over the comms, at least -- although it wouldn't mean much to him then, because at this point he doesn't know Tony. So all the Caps and Tath Ki and the villains end up falling into the Cosmic Cube along with the rest of the Caps that Superia stole, who are already in there. Steve merges with one of his other self, which breaks the Cube, and the alternate dystopian reality basically... vanishes from existence as everyone goes home. And Sad Brain Jar Tony is finally at peace. *sniff* Due to the mysteries of time-travel, Bucky and the two Caps after him -- Shannon and Kiyoshi -- remember what happened, but the two from before -- 1941 Steve and John Walker -- don't seem to. Except when Bucky meets up with his Steve, the Commander Rogers of 2011, it's clear that Bucky's return triggered something and Steve is starting to remember everything. Then Bucky decides to go turn himself in and face justice for the Winter Soldier's crimes. We get a brief look at Kiyoshi's time, where he's helping christen a new aircraft carrier named after Steve. And that's it. So obviously this is a completely wild plot in the way that comics are the best at, and what I really want most in life now is fic where 2011 Commander Rogers -- who we know is not the best at having feelings where Tony is concerned, because his current reaction to Tony is to scream at him about his feelings, in the snow, surrounded by all of their friends -- has to deal with the fact that he remembers being in a world where Tony is a sad brain in a jar and it all happened because he wasn't there to save him. Heroic Age-era (early Avengers v4) is one of my favorite flavors of Steve/Tony angst, as they work out how to have a friendship again (and are so bad at it that it involves a lot of very public screaming fights), and this just piles the angst right on top. (Yeah, guess what's on my WIP list now.) Objectively, it's not a perfect comic -- it's kind of a mess, but it's a mess in that glorious comics way that comics are so good at. I suspect if you're not here for the Steve/Tony you won't like it as much, but if you are... well, please enjoy pondering Sad Brain Jar Tony in his dystopian, Steve-less future.

#posts i actually wrote

32 notes · View notes

lopithecusfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Are We All We Are?

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: Teen+ Word Count: 2448 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Eddie has never actually found anyone as "hot" or "sexy." In fact, he doesn't even really understand what those terms, when directed towards another human being, mean. He knows there is something wrong with him because of this. So, when Buck starts to catch on, he might or might not panic just a little.

Thankfully, Buck knows what the hell is going on and not only helps Eddie in his self-discovery, but also reassures Eddie that he accepts him no matter what. Warnings:

Asexual Character

Asexual Eddie

Ace Eddie

Introspection

Some thoughts on sexual attraction, sex, and Eddie's past and current relationship

Written by an asexual writer (I think that's important to note)

Established Relationship

Self-Discovery

Author's Note: So, I’m asexual, I’ve already written a fic that implied demisexual Eddie, and then I saw this gifset by @maysgrant (prev. asgardiun) that was requested by @judsonryder (so I’m going to tag you too), and so the next logical step was to write a fic with asexual Eddie! Also, I felt this fitting considering it’s Pride Month! I hope you all enjoy! (Title from Pink)

Eddie thinks Buck is handsome. He thought Shannon was pretty. He loved Shannon, or at least he did at some point. He loves Buck more than he can ever properly express. He wants to do a lot of things with Buck just like he made a family, or tried to make a family, with Shannon. He wants to get it right with Buck when he couldn’t with Shannon. Whatever went wrong in his relationship with Shannon, he doesn’t want that to happen with Buck. So he tries harder.

But like with Shannon there still seems to be something missing in his relationship with Buck. It’s not that he’s not happy, he is. Eddie is happier than he has in a long time. They cuddle on the couch and watch movies with Christopher snuggled in a ball of blankets on the floor, half passed out from the long day he’s had. He and Buck will snuggle up in bed and hold each other, and Buck will make Eddie feel safe just like he hopes he makes Buck feel the same. They go on dates and always have each other’s back when out on a call.

It’s everything that didn’t happen with him and Shannon.

Still, he knows it’s weird that he never thinks about Buck in a sexual way or that it’s almost always Buck who suggests they have sex. He knows there’s something wrong when his focus is entirely on Buck’s pleasure, which he enjoys, but would rather have Buck not touch him. Or, when he is feeling aroused due to physical stimulation — never sexual thoughts, even when he forces himself to try and think of Buck that way but only ends up confused as to why he has no interest in those thoughts — he’s not really into it and he just wants to get his own pleasure done and over with so they can move onto the snuggling part. Eddie knows there is something wrong with him when he can’t confidently say his boyfriend is looking hot or, the worse one of them all, sexy .

He knows this.

He knew this when it happened with Shannon.

He knew this when even after Shannon left him, he never slept with another person until Shannon came back.

And he still knows this even when he’s now dating Buck.

Eddie has always had a complicated relationship with sex. It makes him feel good but he is never really into it. He used to have sex with Shannon because he thought that’s what you were supposed to do. He was her boyfriend and then fiance and then husband. Sex just came with the role, how you made a family, and the glue that kept everything together, even in a relationship that was clearly falling apart. Plus, he’s a man, and men are supposed to be all about sex.

Except Eddie isn’t.

He’s always felt like sex was some kind of chore that he had to do in a relationship, that it was the human way of showing someone that you love them.

It’s expected.

Especially since, in Eddie’s case, he’s not exactly that great with words. It’s difficult for him to tell someone, “I love you” so he usually resorts to what he knows best in showing affection.

Sex.

He makes sure that Buck feels good, peppers him in kisses, and snuggles and moves his hands around his body sensually. Buck is his priority in this situation and Buck likes the build-up. Eddie couldn’t care less what he gets out of it and sometimes even prefers not getting anything out of it. Sometimes, it’s even difficult to get aroused by the whole thing in first place and he knows that his tired excuse will only go so far and for so long.

When it comes to the actual sex, it gets a bit more tricky. He goes through the motions, replaying what he knows Buck likes, never changing it up and Buck makes sure he feels good too when Eddie can actually manage to get through it. Only, when it always does happen, it almost always feels a little lackluster for Eddie.

So he fakes it.

He fakes the withering, the moaning, the enjoyment of sucking Buck off even though he really doesn’t like it and could do without it. But Buck likes it and Buck likes the noises he makes when it’s Buck’s turn to make him feel good. And when it’s finally time for him to reach the climax, he fakes that too.

Sure, he feels the pleasure from it but it’s never spectacular and nothing he thinks he would get addicted to. It was the same with Shannon. He enjoyed making her get off, watching her enjoying herself, more than him enjoying it and with Buck, he’s the same. He loves seeing Buck pant and hear him say his name and cry into his fist when he finally reaches that peak.

It’s a little fascinating and he sometimes finds himself wondering how it must feel. But at the same time, he can’t be bothered to care much.

If Eddie is completely honest with himself, he could live without sex in a relationship. He’d much rather have the cuddles, or the dates, or snuggling up under the warm covers. He doesn’t see the need to have sex so often if ever at all. But he’ll never admit that out loud because that means something is wrong with him.

That he’s broken somehow.

That’s why, when Buck abruptly stops kissing his neck and pulls his hands from out from under Eddie’s shirt, he panics a little. Buck is looking at him strangely and Eddie’s heart starts to beat fast in his chest. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Mentally going over everything he’s done up to this point, he tries to pinpoint the moment Buck realized that something was damaged inside Eddie.

“You don’t want this, do you?” Buck sits up, sitting on his calves.

“What?” Eddie sits up too, trying to desperately repair this. Sex was supposed to be what kept the relationship alive. He can’t lose it just because he’s a little broken. “Of course, I do.”

“Eddie, you’ve never really been into this.”

“No!”

Buck sighs and stands, pulling his shirt back on and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. Shannon always went with it, even if she had her doubts about Eddie’s own enjoyment. “I want you to be honest with me, Eddie.”

Eddie panics, stands as well, and follows Buck out into the living room. He doesn’t want to lose Buck, this relationship. “I am.”

“Okay,” Buck turns to him, throws his hands out. “Are you attracted to me?”

“Yes,” Eddie says because he is. Buck is handsome and adorable and he loves him so much his heart might break.

Buck is shaking his head. “I’m not talking about if I look good to you. I’m talking about whether or not you think I’m hot, sexy.”

Eddie draws a blank. He’s never really understood those terms. He doesn’t know what hot and sexy mean, has never really related to them. They make him uncomfortable and he knows they are supposed to pertain to sex but he just doesn’t get it. “Y-yes,” he lies because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Buck’s lips thin and Eddie knows Buck knows he just lied to him. “Do you want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Yes,” Eddie says firmly, more confidently because he does. He loves Buck. He loves him with everything he’s got.

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Eddie hesitates, swallows. “Yes?” He really didn’t mean for that to come out as a question. Buck sighs again, slumping. “Why does it matter? You want to have sex with me so we have sex.”

“Eddie…” another heavy sigh. “I want both of us to enjoy it.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Eddie looks to the floor, feeling shame pushing on his chest. This is the part where Buck will tell Eddie just how broken and messed up he is and how he needs to get himself fixed. “Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell? At first, I thought it was because you’ve never been with a man before but you should be used to it by now, Eddie.”

“No,” Eddie says quickly, looking back up at Buck who is looking nothing short of hurt. “No, it was the same with Shannon.”

“Oh.” Buck’s tone changes completely as if something has just occurred to him. As if Eddie’s frantic and desperate declaration of how shattered his relationship with Shannon was because of him made Buck come to a realization. “So, you’ve never really been interested in sex? Or really been sexually attracted to someone?”

Eddie shuffles on his feet, looking to the floor again. He shrugs. “I…” He peers at Buck again, “You’re good looking, you are and I can see that, but I… I’m not sure what it feels like to want to jump into bed with a person just because they’re handsome or pretty.”

“But not sexy or hot?”

“I don’t even understand what those mean,” Eddie says, frustrated. “What is hot and what is sexy? I know it has to do with wanting to have sex with someone but… I just don’t… get it.” This time Eddie sighs. “I’m sorry. I know there’s something wrong with me to make me like this but-”

“No, Eddie.” Buck walks up to him, grabs his hands, and squeezes them reassuringly. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

“Buck, I’m not attracted to my boyfriend in a sexual way. There’s definitely something wrong with me.”

Buck chuckles and guides them down onto the couch. He never lets go of Eddie’s hands. “Eddie, have you ever heard of Asexuality?”

“No.”

“I thought so. Here.” Buck pulls over Eddie’s laptop that had been sitting on the coffee table, turns it on, pulls up the web browser, and types in Asexual into the search engine. He then hands it over to Eddie. “Read up on it while I go get supper started.” Getting up, Buck leaves him to it.

Eddie does read up on it, clicking on multiple links and reading so many articles his head hurts. He finds a forum and reads about other people’s experiences, and maybe some of it does seem to relate to him. Or, really, a lot of it relates to him. Acknowledging that doesn’t necessarily lift the weight off his chest, he probably has a ways to go before he can completely accept this part of himself, but it’s a start. So he bookmarks a couple of websites and the forum after making an account — not that he would ever actually talk on it but some people have hidden their stories from people not logged in and Eddie is in deep now.

“So?” Buck comes to sit down next to him on the couch. He sits close, slightly angled in Eddie’s direction, and their knees touch. “What do you think?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not trying to push some label onto you Eddie, but I do want you to be comfortable with yourself and understand yourself and maybe someday, accept yourself,” Buck gives him an encouraging smile. “And, Eddie, asexual or not, if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, I’m fine with that.”

Eddie huffs. “Really?” Buck tilts his head in question. “I’m not saying I don’t want to have sex with you but depending on how long this relationship lasts, that could mean months, years, longer… You sure you could do that?”

Buck holds up a finger. “First off, our relationship is going to last for the rest of our lives.”

“Careful what you say. Our lives could be very short in our line of work.”

“Don’t even say that,” Buck chastises and Eddie shuts up. “Secondly, I do have two very capable hands and it gives me an excuse to visit a sex shop and do some shopping.” Eddie scowls in disgust and Buck chuckles at his reaction. “No, but seriously, Eddie, I want you to be comfortable and if that means no sex, then we don’t have sex.”

Eddie contemplates it. It’s not like he’s sex-repulsed like some other people who are asexual have said — and he doesn’t think there is anything wrong with those people, now that he’s read up on the sexuality a bit more, but it’s not something he relates to.

Eddie shrugs again and glances at Buck, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Maybe we could have just… less of it?”

“Yeah,” Buck doesn’t even hesitate to agree to it. “But Eddie, just know, that if you ever just want to stop having sex in this relationship forever, then I’m okay with that. You’re not going to lose me over this. Masturbating can actually be quite fun and feel really good. After all,” Buck’s smile is wide and teasing. “No one knows what you like the most better than yourself.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Sorry, Buck, can’t really relate.”

“So you’ve never even masturbated before?” Buck sounds almost fascinated.

“I mean, I’ve tried but it’s always taken too much energy, too much effort, and the end results aren’t worth it,” he answers. Buck is looking unfazed by his words and he can’t even express how grateful he is of Buck’s reaction. “You know, when Shannon left, I didn’t sleep with anyone for two years before she came back. I thought I was just being loyal because I was still married to her.” He shakes his head. “Now I realize I just… didn’t have the interest.”

“You know that’s okay?” Buck has turned serious again. “There are millions of people out there that are also asexual, Eddie.” He shrugs. “If that’s what you decide you are.”

Eddie chuckles humorlessly. “And here I thought the only thing I had to stress about was liking other men.” Then, he looks at Buck hesitantly. “So you don’t mind that I’m not sexually attracted to you? That I don’t find you ‘sexy’ per se?”

“It really doesn’t, Eddie. I know you love me.” Buck reaches over, puts a hand on his knee. “You’ve got my support.”

Eddie puts his hand on Buck’s and intertwines their fingers. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Buck.”

“Eddie,” Buck scoots closer, pulls him in tight against his side and Eddie lays his head down on Buck’s shoulder. “I’ll always support and accept you. I’ve got your back, remember?”

Eddie smiles, turning his face into Buck’s neck to hide the redness that is appearing from being overwhelmed. “Thank you, Buck.”

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! I rated it “T” because of the sex introspection. Also, I’m really loving the idea of ace Eddie! Although, I’m going to admit, despite being ace myself, I was a little nervous about writing this and possibly misrepresenting the ace community. Go figure!

I actually am sex-repulsed myself (at least when it comes to sex and my body) so I based Eddie’s thoughts about sex off things I’ve heard other sex indifferent aces say. His thoughts on the words “hot” and “sexy” are actually my thoughts. I really don’t understand what makes someone “hot” and “sexy.” It confuses me greatly.

Anyway! Thank you all for reading this! Let me know if you like the idea of asexual Eddie!

#Buddie #911 #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #stiilesstilinski #911 on Fox #Buck #Asexual Eddie #Ace Eddie #Are We All We Are?#My Fanfiction

72 notes · View notes

lvnce-mcclain · 4 years

Text

So third and maybe final update to this (here’s pt1 and pt2 and pt4 ) Buck Army AU that’s Still Totally Not a Fic:

Soooo going into s3 and recap Buck would be living with Eddie and Christopher and after everything that would go down with Shannon (STILL ALIVE, tyvm) Buck’s feeling pretty confident there’s something with potential growing between him and Eddie. And then the Accident happens. Oh man imagine how magnified the terror would be for Eddie, watching as Buck gets trapped under that firetruck and Eddie realizes that he was so close to making a conscious decision to be with another person—to fall the few steps left toward someone who has felt like a small piece of home for a long while now—and even closer to having it ripped away in front of him.

So yeah, this event hits a little harder now. And with that big of a scare between them, imagine a post surgery conversation between them; it’s so early in the morning the dawn hasn’t even thought about rising yet, and Eddie has been staring at Buck’s hands—limp but twitching in his sleep—ever since he was brought out of post op. Carla apparently hasn’t slept much either, or at least not very well considering she’s messaged Eddie every hour or so since Buck went into surgery. Chris had finally passed out, some message three or four update requests ago had told him; he had wanted to stay here with Eddie, to watch over Buck too—stubbornly sitting on the abandoned cot in the corner of the cramped room to make a point—but Eddie didn’t want Chris to sit through the agony of minutes ticking by in the timeless walls of a hospital room.

Imagine Buck blinking awake in the not-quite-dark of early dawn and meeting Eddie’s eyes with a wide sort of wonder at the way Eddie’s smile turns watery. They have a conversation they probably should wait to have until Buck’s not on quite as many painkillers, but they both feel too full of something too overwhelming to hold back any longer. They both acknowledge there’s something damn near if not love between them—Buck’s eyes shine with so much devotion when he tells Eddie, Eddie doesn’t even notice the sun finally rising through the hospital window—but also both recognize how hard it would be to start anything romantic between them right now with the long road ahead of Buck and Eddie figuring out how to integrate Shannon back into Christopher’s life.

They agree that they’ll do what they feel is the most responsible thing and just acknowledge the potential and then just… Pause it. They’ll be able to go back to normal—but better, really, because Buck doesn’t have to feel guilty about any flares of attraction he’d get when things would get too well-worn between him and Eddie in their home with Christopher; Eddie wouldn’t have to feel conflicted over if pursuing something with Buck would distract or bias him when make decisions about Christopher’s future with his mother.

Eddie wouldn’t have to have shame burn in his gut over the word divorce, because the word feels less like failure and more like future.

Imagine how differently the recovery would have gone for Buck. Imagine how he’d feel less isolated, more needed with getting to spend more time with Christopher during the entire recovery process.

(Side note: something I’ve been really toying with and liking is the idea that this is also the time that Shannon gets reintroduced to Christopher. Imagine Shannon finding out Buck’s holed up at the house recovering and tells Eddie it’s the perfect way for her to get supervised visits that don’t interfere with Eddie’s schedule. Eddie is apprehensive—because really, he doesn’t know if he wants his soon to be ex wife just hanging out with his possibly soon to be… Boyfriend? The word still sits a little unfamiliarly in Eddie’s mind but it’s getting warmer.

But when he talks to Buck about it, he’s quick to reassure Eddie he wouldn’t mind being around for some visits if it would make Eddie’s mind settle a little about this whole reintroduction; Eddie still doesn’t know how to be around Shanon, now, with the void of the divorce papers stretched out between them. Eddie doesn’t want Christopher to be hurt, and is still scared he’s making the wrong choice but Buck reassures him constantly that if Shannon seems honest in her interest in being in Christopher’s life and making up for the past, that Eddie should Christopher have the choice to let her back in before it’s too late to make it.

So yeah, Shannon might have suggested it so earnestly because yes, she’s interested in the guy that her husband (still, for a little while longer at least) seems to be building a family with. She doesn’t think she can be blamed for a little curiosity, especially since she and Eddie had been together since they were so young she never had any idea Eddie was even interested in men; honestly, she doubts Eddie had much of a clue either, if how tentative he is to talk about any plans for their future, of anything that has to do with this Buck.

But because we see that they know how to write some good mixed family situations canonically in the show, I’d like to think this could get resolved pretty reasonably well. Shannon never stood a chance against Buck in all his charming earnesty, especially when that is always pointed toward her son in such honest displays of affection during all of Shannon’s visits. Sure they start off rocky, but then after the first visit goes with Buck giving them a respectful amount of space and Shannon is ashamed to admit she struggled to connect with Christopher enough to play, on the second visit Buck jumps in tentatively when he sees her struggle again, and helps her establish a connection in a way she never once felt judged. Shannon feels lucky, for a moment, and realizes if they can do this right—if they push past how awkward this all could be and focus more on what’s best for Christopher—that her son is going to grow up with three people who love him so very much.

So imagine Eddie confused and hesitant about the fact his wife suddenly wants to Help Out or whatever, and offers to take Buck to doctor’s appointments and other strange shit that Eddie never thought he’d hear. But they make it work, because it’s what Christopher needs them to do. And if Eddie’s being honest, seeing how good Buck is at being flexible with everything just makes him burn a little hotter towards his best friend. His partner. )

So anyway, yeah, with that in mind I don’t think it’d get to a lawsuit. After the tsunami—and lbr, I have so many thoughts on how deeply emotional that entire arc would be with Buck still “losing” Chris, how much Buck would pull away thinking he doesn’t know why he thought he could be a good stepfather to Chris some day if he can’t protect him when it matters, but Eddie and Chris being there for him to understand a little quicker that his boys would never let him question how important he is in their lives. Imagine how much more poignant it would be for Eddie to still level him with that burning look and tell him there’s still no one he trusts more in this world with Chris than Buck. Imagine Buck feeling set on fire, flames in his blood as he swallows back the urge to kiss Eddie until it’s all he can think about.

—But yeah. Anyway. After the tsunami, Buck still wants to get back to work as soon as possible but also knows how much it’s helped Chris deal with the trauma of the tsunami to have Buck around so much more at home. So it’s not as much of an urgent rush, and Buck works with Bobby on a return to work timeline they both feel comfortable with pending medical necessities over the next several months. Imagine over this time Eddie still realizes he needs to go to therapy, but it’s not as severe as canon because his trauma isn’t compounded with the grief of losing Shannon. He realizes, though, there’s still some things he needs to work through to be emotionally capable of being there for Chris as he heals, and also to transition his life to include Buck more intimately. (P.S., this is where Buck would be a little wary of therapy when suggested by Eddie, who’s… hesitant but open with this new guy he’s been seeing assigned by the department. Eddie gets out of him the full story about what happened when he slept when his last department issued therapist and this would be where Buck works through that that was not okay and it wasn’t his fault.)

So yeah. Essentially in the end, their bond would have been so much deeper and there’s just. So much potential to run with. I could seriously go on about how much it’d impact 3b alone but idk, this is already gotten away from me way too far.

#buddie #buddie fic #buddie meta #buddie au #my fic

27 notes · View notes

wikiangela · 6 months

Text

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Words and Fics

192,761 words published to ao3

2 fandoms (911 and MCU - mcu was like one fic tho lol)

Most recent drop: I wanna spend my forever like that (911, 8.6k, G)

Longest fic: For a holiday (and forevermore) (911, 95k, M)

Top Fics by Kudos

For a holiday (and forevermore) (95k, M)

I can't love you any more (than I do now) (2.6k, G)

I'd marry you with paper rings (3.4k, G)

me, you, our kid and a dog (4.7k, G)

me and you only equals love (6.6k, E)

My fandom fic events in 2023

I don't think I took part in any this year :( maybe next year haha

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

well, right now I'm working on a few wips im hoping to get done in the next few weeks/months (depending on time and inspiration lol):

the alive shannon fic - this is my main focus and i hope to maybe finish it sometime next year but who knows hah (I barely started, it's gonna be a while)

buddie coffee shop au - ive been working on this for so long and it's lowkey on hold now but istg i'll finish this

buddie cheating fic

the natalia fic

married buddie smut

another smut I haven't mentioned yet but it's waiting until i finish married buddie smut

bi eddie fic

and probably some more oneshots lol

but tbh, we'll see where the next year takes me, I can't plan too much bc it never works out haha

rules & tags below the cut

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @underwater-ninja-13 @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @jamespearce9-1-1 @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss <333

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

no pressure tagging: @malewifediaz @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @honestlydarkprincess @spotsandsocks @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @jeeyuns @housewifebuck @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @spagheddiediaz @daffi-990 and whoever else wants to <3

#tbf mcu was one fic from january lmao - after that 911 wholly consumed me haha #this year was basically exclusively buddie #i've been writing buddie since march 2021 but october 2022 they *really* took over and i can't write anything else haha #fic writing review 2023 #my fics #wikiangela writes #buddie fics #buddie #tag games

48 notes · View notes

florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Demons, Canon-Typical Violence, One Night Stands, Getting Together, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eddie Diaz Is A Good Father

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 3RD EVERYONE and thank you to @eddiesdiaz and @hearteyesforbuck for convincing me to write what started out as a spite fic.

***

“You really love that kid, huh?” Buck murmured against his chest, and Eddie smiled, a soft chuckle making his chest (and Buck’s head) shake. “I do. He deserves everything I can give him and so much more. I’d do anything, give up anything, to make sure Chris is happy and safe.”

“You’d... sell your car for him?” He asked, looking up as Eddie scoffed.

“Please. In a heartbeat.”

Buck rose a brow, fingers circling Eddie’s palm. “You’d sell your house?”

“Without a doubt.” Eddie locked Buck’s fingers in his own, bringing their hands to his lips, kissing each of Buck’s knuckles.

“Would you sell your soul?”

———————————————————————————————————

For the record, Eddie Diaz really and truly thought that he was going to have a good day when he woke up.

He had actually slept that night, which was a great start.

He finished his morning run in time to have breakfast with Chris and Carla, which was embarrassingly infrequent.

He was still smiling, humming some song from one of Chris’ shows under his breath, when he went to check the mail that morning, and that was when everything went to shit.

The simple “Condolences” card would have basically gone unnoticed in the stack of bills and junkmail, had it not been for the Texas zip code on the envelope. He thumbs the edge of the card, a frown across his face as he racks his brain—had anyone died recently? He didn’t think so, hadn’t heard from his aunt or his abuela, they hadn’t had any life or limb threatening calls in almost a month and a half.

He opened the card slowly, eyes scanning over the block of text written on the left side of the card, his heart instantly kicking overdrive as he picked out a few words.

The card was for Shannon.

Shannon, who his parents were not exactly on the best of terms with. Shannon, who had responded to Eddie leaving in turn, who had divorced him less than twenty four hours before her death.

Shannon who had been dead for a year, almost to the day.

He almost, almost couldn’t believe it, that his mother and father would be the kind of people who send death-anniversary-condolence cards, but those thoughts were stuck swirling around in his own guilt. Shannon had died a year ago and Eddie hadn’t even realized it. Sure, they had a tumultuous relationship at best, and he still missed her—especially missed her with Chris—but it still felt gross, realizing that he had spaced out what he felt should have been such an important milestone.

He only barely scanned over the words “Chris” and “with us” and “for the best” before he slammed the card against his chest, his eyes wide and wild, only a second away from going full fight-or-flight because of a fucking greeting card. He didn’t want to believe that he was still going to be fighting against this, that he had to continue to fight against his parents for his son. They were doing better. He was doing better. And for anyone to suggest, twelve months after the fact, that Shannon’s death would have been a decent reason for Eddie to give up custody...

Between calling out of work last minute and having to be reminded twice to kiss Chris goodbye when Carla brought him to school, Eddie knew that he wasn’t exactly the image of stability at this point—but he was pretty sure that could all be forgiven, considering his circumstances.

Blindsided by an event that happened a year ago: check.

Still only barely making ends meet and paying for his son’s needs: check.

Regularly feeling like an absolute failure in a personal, professional, and fatherly sense: fucking triple check.

Eddie’s only saving grace was that Chris had already planned on spending the night with Hen and Karen and Denny that evening, so Eddie could do the one thing he did best.

Better than anyone else. Better than anyone, ever.

Finding a random bar to get absolutely plastered in.

“It’s just, when I thought they couldn’t sink any fucking lower, they do. They act like she was no one when she was alive, and now that she’s dead I’m supposed to just hate her alongside them because they hate her cause she divorced me, but spoiler alert! She died anyway!” Eddie was saying, his face resting cheek down on the bar, the straight whiskey he had been sipping swirling around in its glass, the amber liquid refracting light over his face. He was alone in the bar, had been for two hours at least—his words might have been the slightest bit slurred, but the bartender seemed to be ever understanding, nodding his head as he wiped down the spot next to Eddie, what seemed to be the last of his closing duties.

His bartender, who was rapidly going up in Eddie’s opinion—not just because of his impeccable pours, and the fact that he was pretty cute (and yes, that was Eddie’s unbiased opinion), but because he was listening. He was actually listening as Eddie rambled on, more than just that passive grunt-and-nod that so many bartenders thought passed for actually paying attention to their clientele.

“You know,” Bartender started, tapping his fingers on the bar, a steady rhythm that pulsed through Eddie’s cheek in a semi-comforting manner. “It’s okay that you didn’t hate her. Even after the divorce. Just because two people divorce, doesn’t mean they don’t love one another, just that... that they’re better apart than they are together.”

Oooh. That was a good point. It was wrong, but it was still a good point. Eddie rose his hand to counter balance himself, pushing into an upright position so he could take another swallow from the glass in front of him. “I didn’t love her, not at the end, but...” Eddie started, sipping and swallowing. “I loved what she was.”

The bartender leaned forward, raising a brow, and Eddie felt his eyes naturally drift from the small green gem that was hanging off of the chain around his neck to the beauty mark, dancing above his browbone, scrunched up as he scrutinized Eddie that much further. “And what was she?”

“A partner.” Eddie said easily, catching the surprise on the other's face. “She was my partner, even though I was a shitty one. And she was a friend, even though I was a shitty one. And she was such a good parent, and I’m—“

“I swear, if you say you’re a shitty parent I’m going to clock you with this bottle.”

Eddie laughed in spite of himself, his eyes trailing back down, somewhere around the bartender’s chest—Buck, his name tag said. Eddie was pretty sure he had been told that already. “Seriously, man, I’ve heard you talk more kindly about your kid from the time you were half a drink in than most people do when they’re sober.”

Eddie sighed, knocking the rest of his drink back, sliding the glass back to Buck. “Well, isn’t that how dads are supposed to be? Willing to take bubb—bulb—bullets for their kid?”

Buck snorted, swiping Eddie’s glass for a refill—only a finger this time, not three—Eddie was probably going to be cut off soon, much to his dismay. He wasn’t nearly as plastered as he wanted to be, and having to go to another bar was going to be a major fucking inconvenience. “Not mine.” Buck said, putting the bottle back on the shelf. “My dad would probably be more upset about a bullet going through any clothes he bought us than he would be about it actually going through us. Charming bastard, he was.”

Eddie sucked in a deep breath—to offer his condolences or maybe to cry, he wasn’t sure, because Buck waved it off before he could say one thing or the other. “It’s no big deal, it’s all said and done now. All you can do is be there for your kid as best as you can, and Eddie, I can already tell that you are.”

Eddie sighed as he let his head fall into his hand, lips buzzing as he exhaled, face smushing against his palm. “I hope so. I really want to be, I’d... fuck. I’d give anything to help my kid, to make sure he was safe, to... to make sure he would always be protected.”

Had Eddie been a tad more sober, or maybe a tad more attentive, he probably would have noticed the sudden flick of Buck’s eyes, or the way his wrist jerked to a sudden halt while he was cleaning a glass. He might have noticed the way Buck ran his tongue over his lips, and... well, okay, he definitely noticed that, and was pleased to see Buck’s lips turn into a smile.

“Hey, closing time is in about... now. You sober enough to go for a walk with me, or do you want me to call you a cab? Either way, I’m not letting you drive.”

Eddie pouted, reaching for his wallet in his jacket pocket, blinking in surprise as Buck waved him away. “Come on, you’ve had a rough... year, sounds like. I’ll consider it on the house.”

Eddie felt his cheeks pink up, pulling his jacket on, smiling as he looked down to the bar for a moment. “Alright, well, I owe you one then.”

“Counting on that.” Buck said, his smile wide again, just barely on the right side of too-sharp and too-toothy. “Now, come on. Take a walk with me.”

The cold Californian air (well, as cold as it got in California in March) did more to sober Eddie up than any amount of water, and he smiled as he shrugged his jacket a little tighter as Buck locked the door to the little bar he had spent the past few hours in.

His smile grew as Buck finally made eye contact with him again, easily falling into line a half step ahead of Eddie as they started to walk, letting the bartender lead the way to wherever they were going.

“So, Eddie. How did a nice guy like you wind up in a bar like mine?” Given the half conversation they had in the bar, Eddie had no idea what kind of conversation Buck would be expecting—so he was surprised when Buck directed the topic toward himself, asking Eddie about where he grew up, what he did for work, his likes, his dislikes. It was cute, and benign, and Eddie felt his cheeks pink up in a way that wasn’t entirely related to the cold weather every time he caught Buck actually listening to him, actually giving a damn about his interests.

“But, uh, enough about me.” Eddie said, his face bright red as he realized just how long he had been talking. It was unlike him, to say the least—while he wasn’t really a private person, he didn’t have that many opportunities to share himself with people, so now that he had one, he was definitely rambling. “What about you, what’s your story? You’ve already heard all about my parents and my son, any rugrats of your own wandering around?”

No sooner did than the words left Eddie’s mouth did he wish he could take them back—the flash of pain that crossed Buck’s face was only compounded by the way his shoulders hunched, drawing into himself like it was second nature. “Nah, felt like it was kind of selfish, you know? Risking fucking up a little kid just because I wanted one, when I have no idea how to care for one. My parents were... not great. I mean, they weren’t terrible, but they definitely didn’t want to be parents, and they just weren’t... there.” He started, his words slow as they fell back into step with one another. “But I have a sister. She’s so smart, she got out the minute she could and never looked back. She’s the one who gave me this, when I graduated high school.”

Buck’s smile was nothing short of captivating, small and soft as he pulled the small stone Eddie had seen earlier out from his shirt, admiring the gem on the chain before he tucked it away again. “Anyway, she left, and then my dad died, and then my mom kind of lost it, to the point where my options were either move across the country or call an old priest and a young priest. So, don’t walk away thinking you won the award for crazy parent this evening.” Buck said, snorting in a way that was a little too familiar in the “I-make-light-of-my-problems-to-cope” tone that Eddie himself had mastered.

Keeping their pace even, Eddie sighed, looking up at the night sky. It was bright, obnoxiously so—between the city lights and the street lamps above him he couldn’t make out a single star, but he liked to imagine them anyway. The moon was full, at least, and that would do for the time being. “Bobby—err, my boss—says that your family, your real family, is the one you choose, not the one you’re born into. I don’t know if that helps, but… you can always choose something better, Buck. You deserve that much.” he finished with a shrug, raising a brow as he watched Buck shrink into himself, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye.

“You think so?” Buck asked, looking up at Eddie through his lashes (which was a truly impressive feat, considering Eddie was pretty sure Buck was taller than he was). “I do. Or at the very least, I like to believe it.” Eddie said as Buck smiled, bumping his shoulder playfully as they fell back into step, well aware of the way Buck’s eyes trailed over his lips as they curved into a smile of his own.

He wasn’t... stupid, after all. He may have had a busy life and a busy schedule, but Eddie knew when someone was flirting with him. It happened enough while they were out on calls—not that he wanted to toot his own horn—and while he had religiously turned down every single ‘opportunity’ while he was on the clock, that didn’t mean he was a stranger to a one night stand (especially after a few drinks).

And the way that Buck seemed to be looking at him was... delicious, to say the least.

He was caught by surprise when they came to a stop in front of the same bar they had left some half hour ago, his own curious expression met with Buck’s grin. “Well, look at that!” Buck said, looking above the bar toward a set of windows set back behind the neon sign. “Thanks for walking me home.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh as he nodded his head, dramatically waving an arm in front of him. “Well, it was my pleasure. And, um, thank you for talking with me, and for listening to me. It... You’ve turned a really shitty day into a much better night.” Eddie said, feeling a warmth spread through him as Buck flat out blushed.

He blushed. Motherfucker had no right being that cute.

“Well, I’m glad that I could help.” Buck said with a smile, pulling him back into the present, looking up at what Eddie assumed was his apartment. “But, you know... the better night doesn’t have to be over yet. Do you want to come up for some coffee?”

Buck probably had a very nice loft above his bar—but Eddie couldn’t be sure, because the moment the door shut behind him, Buck had him pressed up against it, lips pressed against his own and hands blazingly hot on his body. The only thing he could be sure of was that Buck had a great ass—a perfect ass, even because that was the only thing Eddie was holding on to before Buck picked him up, literally, and carried him up the stairs to bed.

Holy fuck, Eddie thought he was going to cum then and there.

Eddie wasn’t someone who was overwhelmed easily, but he found himself starting to lose himself as Buck’s teeth roamed around his body, leaving love bites on his neck, collar bone, down his stomach, and then oh—oh—Eddie felt his cock sink into warm, wet heat, his eyes rolling back in his head as a guttural noise escaped his throat.

Buck just giggled. That asshole.

Nearly an hour later, Eddie was delightfully sore, body tugged in ways he didn’t think were possible without an aggressive amount of stretching. He struggled to catch his breath as Buck flopped over his chest, looking every bit as content as Eddie felt.

“Eddie, holy, uh,” Buck started, and Eddie was pleased to realize he wasn’t the only one who was panting. “Holy shit, that was amazing. Is there a, uh, round two in the stars, or do you have to go home soon? I don’t know about your kid...” Eddie blushed, feeling a little bit of warmth in his chest, entirely unrelated to the physical presence of the man currently using him as a pillow.

“No, he’s out for the night. But as far as round two goes, you may need to give me a few.” he answered with a laugh, all smiles as Buck pulled himself up to press a kiss to Eddie’s lips, sighing contentedly. His deeper breaths turned into a steady sigh as Buck started to trace patterns up and down his free arm, fingers dancing over the palm of one of his hands while the other wrapped around Buck’s shoulders.

Buck felt, more than he heard Eddie speak, the vibrations traveling through his cheek easily. “You’d... sell your car for him?” He asked, looking up as Eddie scoffed.

“Please. In a heartbeat.”

Buck rose a brow, fingers circling Eddie’s palm. “You’d sell your house?”

“Without a doubt.” Eddie locked Buck’s fingers in his own, bringing their hands to his lips, kissing each of Buck’s knuckles as his naked body moved against him. Eddie let out an entirely undignified noise as Buck rolled suddenly, straddling his hips, one hand supporting his weight beside Eddie’s head, the other still linked with his own as he grinned.

“Would you sell your soul?”

Eddie groaned in response as Buck rolled his hips down, still equally overstimulated and sensitive as he nodded his head quickly. “Course. Like I said, anything.”

Eddie felt his eyes slide half shut as Buck sucked in a breath, the expression on his face nothing short of elated. “Oh, Eddie. You won’t regret this, I promise.” he gushed, his eyes bright. “It’s a deal.”

Even as he felt the confusion grow, Eddie couldn’t help but smile as Buck leaned down into a kiss, his enthusiasm—even if Eddie wasn’t sure what it was about—was positively infectious. He felt another groan get pulled from his lips as his eyes slid shut, the sound drowned in Buck’s mouth, Buck’s body heavy on his own and his hand warm in Eddie’s, and...

...wait, no, not warm. Hot. Really hot.

In fact, his entire body was hot. Every inch where Buck touched him was suddenly burning, like he was a white hot coal pulled straight from the fire.

Eddie gasped and pushed back from the kiss, his lungs burning from the inside out, feeling like he was sucking in smoke, his head starting to spin.

“Eddie, it’s okay, just breathe...”

Buck’s voice was a thousand miles away as Eddie grit his teeth, willing his eyes to focus. The last thing he could see was Buck, still beaming at Eddie like he won the lottery; eyes so bright they were literally glowing, his smile far too sharp to be human, matching the two growths sprouting from his head, and Eddie—

Eddie finally broke, body arching away from the burning heat that was spread out on top of him, letting out what he thought was a scream as everything went black.

#911 #buddie #Eddie diaz #Evan buckley #halloween #demon!Buck #demon!AU #flospeaks #fanfic #hurt/comfort

9 notes · View notes

annakie · 4 years

Text

Finishing the Fic

Exactly five years ago yesterday, I started writing a fic.

It’s still not done.

I really want to change that.

So back when Thrilling Adventure Hour was deeply encompassing nearly my entire being of fandom, I had an idea for a fic, and @shannondapper and I had a very long conversation planning this fic out. It’s a Sparks Nevada fic full of adventure and angst, taking place after Custard’s Last Stand but before the Crisis on Infinite Marses episodes.

And I actually started writing it!

And over the next few months I wrote like 25k words (70 pages!!) of this fic and was like, halfway done with it.

Like almost all fic I write, it’s canon-compliant. So things were going real well until six words spoken in canon really threw off my plans for this fic.

Those words were “And I love you... MY BUDDY!”

Well, shit. What does that mean? Is Ginny actually a Jupiter Spy? And if so, did she know the entire time? Is she evil? Does she actually love Sparks? How am I gonna write this fic not knowing if one of the major characters in this fic is who she says she is or not, not knowing IF she knew and WHAT she now knows? My favorite chapters in this fic are written from her perspective, how am I going to keep this fic canon if I didn’t know what canon even IS.

That episode was recorded on April 11, 2015. I was in the audience for it.

Of course, that was the last episode that was recorded until August 2015. I wasn’t there for that.

I felt like any ability I had to actually write this fic and stay canon-compliant was at a dead halt. I just... gave up on writing until we KNEW.

In October, when I worked the TAH booth at NYCC I tried to pry a little info out of Blacker, but as expected, he held his cards close to his chest about it. So few episodes were made that I didn’t feel like I had enough information about Ginny and her motives until December 2016 when Still Alive came out. And by then, I had finally come up with my own plan on how to handle Ginny. And I think it works. SO I did some moderate revisions on her chapters then.

And then just... left it alone for another year or so, occasionally dragging it out to tinker with it. In like 2018 I wrote almost an entire chapter, really loving the first half, and kind of getting stuck in the second half. And then.. again, I’ve pulled it out for editing a time or two, but am really stuck on how to end this one chapter.

I’ve thought a few times of just... publishing what I’ve got (ten chapters that I think are pretty good!) but I’ve always been wary of needing to fix something that happened in an earlier chapter later, and don’t want to have to write around something I later felt like was a mistake.

And then a few months ago I saw a post here on tumblr that I loved that said “Hey, if you’re stuck at some part in a thing you’re writing, just like uh, skip over it? Go write something else in the project, skip to a part you really DO want to write, and come back to the part you’re stuck on later. It will probably have worked itself out by then.”

Shit, that’s RIGHT. I’m gonna do that as soon as I get back to writing my big Sparks fic! I told myself

(John Mulaney voice) AND THEN I DIDN’T.

Anyway, the point is, I’m gonna.

I’m gonna just try and do 500 words a day as long as Shelter In Place lasts, and see what happens. Even if they’re bad words. Let’s see how it goes.

Let’s see if there’s even anyone existence who WANTS to read 50,000 words of a mostly slumbering fandom (but hey, maybe if they keep doing TAH Live it won’t be so slumbering anymore!) Even if nobody does, I’m gonna write it for me, so I can say I actually finished something!

The worst thing is, there are certain plot points and things I knew were gonna happen and things I set up in the fic that I seriously have no fucking clue anymore how I was going to finish off or resolve. I knew I HAD plans for those things, but did I write them down? NOPE.

I did, however, save a very long chatlog between Shannon and I where we hammered out a lot of ideas, even if I changed a lot in the actual execution of the fic, and a chapter outline. That... helps. But now I definitely want to finish before posting a damn thing to make sure it all actually comes together.

My knowledge of canon went from probably being one of, if not THE most knowledgeable person outside of the Bens about Sparks canon (which will happen when you relisten to a thing obsessively and then write basically every wiki entry on a thing on the semi-official wiki) to... a little fuzzy. I did a relisten about a year ago, maybe I need to do that again.

Anyway, if you are a TAH fan, I hope when I finally get around to you, that you may want to actually read it, and that you like it, but hey, I know it’s a Lot and maybe you won’t, and that’s OK.

#personal post tag thingy #annakie's tah stuff

16 notes · View notes

mrs-dragneel-stark-solo · 4 years

Text

Unforseen Chasm (Part 70)

Part 70 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 2610 Warnings: Wedding day! fluff, Banner babies, emotional day, heart to heart, fluff all around, Song for this part: I Love you Always Forever- Betty Who Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

___________________

“Do we have everything?” you asked, nervousness alive in your voice.

“Yes, for the last time, Y/N, everything is perfect,” Shannon replied.

You were looking in the mirror, clad in your gorgeous veil, stunning dress, and breathtaking shoes. Shannon stood to your left, just behind you, her baby bump gone. She had a healthy boy and girl just a few weeks ago. You specifically planned the wedding so that she could be all healed in order to stand with you.

“Well that’s everything, Y/N.” She did minor fixes to your hair and the veil. “Aww, my sister off to get married. Oh gosh I said I wouldn’t cry but here come the waterworks.” She sniffled. “You have no idea how happy I am for you right now.”

“Aww. Thank you, Shannon. I had no idea you’d get this choked up over me marrying Loki.”

“I just want you to know that no matter where this new chapter takes you, I’m always going to be there for you.” She smiled and fixed her makeup. “Now have you decided on taking the offer that Tony gave you about building a home on our land or if you have chosen a specific place in mind to help you guys get it built?”

“Actually,” you responded, “I think Loki and I are gonna try it out here, on New Asgard. I’d like to get to know the community better, for real, you know? I really appreciate the offer. Maybe a little after the honeymoon?”

“Yeah of course. You let us know when you’re ready after the honeymoon.” She held your hands. “I’m getting choked up because you're finally getting your happily ever after that you so deserve.” She teared up again.

You laughed. “You’re crying more than I am,” you teased. You pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you and I don’t know what I did to deserve a sister like you but I wish I knew. You are the biggest and best gift and miracle to my life that I’ve ever gotten.”

“Okay no more crying I swear,” she laughed. “I love you so much, Y/N. We’ve come so far from where we were twelve years ago and through it all we did it together. I know your parents would be so proud of you.”

For the first time today, tears sprang to your eyes. “Damn it, Shan, your crying is contagious.” You laughed through the tears, trying to delicately wipe your eyes without smudging your makeup. “I hope they’re proud. I wish I knew them, or knew how any of my life turned out.”

“I’m sure they know how it’s been and are more than proud.” She helped you with your makeup. “Well, it’s time,” she announced as she glanced to the clock on the wall. “We’ll see you out there, okay?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

Here we go.

Shannon picked up her bouquet and left the room gracefully. In swept Tom and Clint, who both approached you with a grin.

“Hey, kid. Congratulations,” Clint said sweetly as he approached.

“Thank you,” you said lightly.

“You ready?” Tom asked.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything,” you breathed.

You put your arm through each of theirs as they offered, and the doors to the little suite opened.

When they did, perfect rays of sunshine and warmth flooded around you. Shannon was working a little to make sure the air wasn’t too cold, or the clouds didn’t threaten to rain, to make your day perfect. The sand on the beach was warm and inviting.

You were on the shores of New Asagard, a beautiful island with amazing beaches. It was an easy choice for you and Loki when you saw it.

The quartet played the Asgardian lullaby that Frigga had sung to you all as children for the bridal party to walk down the aisle. As you approached, Strange put a spell on you that would hide you from everyone’s view. Meanwhile a stunning white french doorway stood where the bridal party couldn’t be seen until it was time.

Wanda and Tony stepped forward from opposite sides of the aisle, linked arms, and walked down the aisle to the tune. Followed by Shannon and Thor. Once the bridal party was situated on the “altar”, Peter walked down the aisle with the ring pillow. It was emerald and gold for Loki. Just behind him, Morgan skipped down the aisle throwing orchid petals, until finally -- the wedding march began playing.

A few small steps up to the entry of the archway, and you, Clint, and Tom were ready to walk down. Stephen lifted the spell, and as everyone stood, they gasped in awe.

Your eyes hit Loki in his all black tuxedo and you weren’t sure whether to weep at his beauty and the beauty of the moment, or to run headlong down the aisle into his arms. He stared at you as if he was seeing an angel for the first time. Thor gave him a pat on the shoulder as Shannon shot you two thumbs up and a big grin.

As you moved forward down the aisle, you gave a smile of love to the face of every friend and family that you passed, but all Loki could look at was you.

Finally, you reached him, your breath halting at his stunning gorgeousness.

How had you gotten so lucky?

The preacher asked who gave you away, and Clint and Tom both gave short answers. Clint patted your shoulder as Tom kissed your cheek. Tom went to sit beside Diane, and Clint went to the second row with his family.

You took Loki’s hands and you felt a sense of life flow through you once more. Loki stared at you.

“I love you,” you mouthed and he smiled at you.

You were trying to listen to the preacher, but honestly, you just wanted this man as your husband as quickly as possible. He finally got to the point of the vows and you gave a smile before starting yours.

“Loki, I’ve loved you for all of my life. My life, our lives, have been anything but conventional. I spent most of my life wishing I had a home, some place I belonged. I always felt out of step with this world. So when I went back to Asgard, I thought that I’d found my home, that's where I found my strength and belonging, but it was never Asgard - it was you. Wherever you are, you’re my home. I know what it’s like to live without you, twice, and I don’t ever want to do it again. You’re my world, you’re my partner, your my life, you’re my home, you’re my everything. I’ve been through Hell and back just to find you, but I’d do it all again, a million times if I had to, if it meant you came back to me.”

When you finished, you could hear a few sniffles and saw some people wiping their eyes.

Loki gave you a small, sweet smile, the one he reserved for being coy and loving. He began his vows after the preacher prompted him with a small gesture.

“Y/N, we’ve fought battles and wars together. We endured torture to protect each other. You selflessly jumped off a perfectly good bridge, just to be with me. You’ve seen me at my very worst times and never looked away. You loved me, embraced me, and supported me through every hellish thing we had to endure. Thank you for never giving up on me. When you fell into the abyss with me, not knowing what would happen, you said, ‘I need you in my life more than you may know. I’ll go wherever you are’ and I have the same sentiments, my dear. When you first arrived at Asgard, some of your first words to me were that we would navigate our pasts together, and I feel we’ve done that exceptionally well, yet, now I can’t wait to explore our futures together. I love you more than I ever thought was possible to love another person, but for once in my life, I was wrong.” He shot you a grin and you couldn’t help but laugh as happy tears streaked down your face.

After the vows, the preacher announced the exchanging of the rings, then he said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Loki eagerly grabbed you, his slender fingers running through your styled hair as he pulled you close. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping him tight. In seconds, cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd.

The two of you eventually let go of each other before you turned and faced everyone.

“Everyone, I am pleased to present, Loki Odinson and Y/N Odinson!” the preacher called happily and everyone jumped up, shouting, cheering, hooray-ing.

You two walked down the aisle as the photographers took several pictures before leading you to the area to get the portraits taken. Moments later, the bridal party was there to join you. After an hour of photos, you joined your guests at a quant area you’d had set up on the beach. The sun was still over the horizon, giving you plenty of time with everyone.

There was a dancefloor put in, with the dining tables surrounding it, as fantastic food was being served. The band announced your arrival with Loki, and said you’d be doing your first dance now.

The two of you danced to a song you’d heard on one of your dates. Then Tony, Bruce, Shannon, and several others joined you on the dancefloor. All of you danced for several hours. You shared a dance with several men you cared for, some of them were Clint Thor, Tom, Stephen, Tony, and Steve. Remy even cut in at one point, causing you to feel a mingling of happiness, relief, and guilt. He assured you he was having a good time, that you looked the most beautiful he’d ever seen, and he was happy to see you happy.

Thor and Shannon gave speeches, prompting both laughter and happy tears to go throughout the audience. Eventually, you threw your bouquet, to which Jean Grey caught it.

Tony walked up to you two. “Hey Y/N, I’m gonna steal your groom for a moment if you don’t mind?” Tony smiled sweetly at you. “I promise he’ll be back shortly”

“Bring him back in one piece, Tony,” you requested.

“Like I would harm a hair on my new brother-in-law’s head.” He winked.

The two men walked away to a quiet spot that overlooks the water and stood in silence before Tony spoke.

“Listen, Reindeer Gam--Loki, I just wanted us to start new,” he paused. “Like water under the bridge and to welcome you with open arms to this family.”

He made a face of suspicion. “I would actually like that. I appreciate it. I know how much Y/N loves Shannon and you, and I know it’d be easier on all of us if you and I could… Well, let the past stay in the past.”

“Yeah I think that would be best, especially with the kids who love you guys to death already.” He smiled, thinking of his two kids. “I’m not sure if Y/N’s told you this but I made a promise to her that I would do whatever it took to bring you back, She’s really important to Shannon and I know just now important you are to Y/N.” He pats Loki’s shoulder. “And believe me when I say this, it’s good to have you back man.”

“It’s extremely good to be back. You’ve raised some exceptional children. I look forward to getting to know them. Thank you for helping to get me back and keeping an eye on Y/N for me. I think I’ve had you pegged wrong for quite some time.” He patted Tony’s back. “By the way, I never got a chance to say I’m sorry about New York. Brainwashing and all that. It was never personal, you know that, right?”

“To be fair neither of us knew what the outcome would be for that, I never took it against you.” He looked over at his Brother-in-law. “Yeah people tend to do that often they think there isn't much else to me besides billionaire playboy genius, I would do anything for the ones I love much like you have.”

“Could’ve fooled me with the not taking it against me, seeing as you had me housed in your basement for two years,” Loki joked with a half grin.

Tony laughed remembering that. “It would’ve gone way worse if Shannon hadn't stepped in for you two. Those two years would have been in complete darkness away from Y/N’s side.” He got serious. “I know how much that would have affected you both.” He sighed.

Loki nodded. “You and Shannon are both… very kind people, and I am truly blessed to know you both and call you family. Thank you, for everything you’ve both done for me and Y/N, despite our pasts. I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”

“No matter how bad things get for someone and whatever they had done it doesn’t change the fact that family is family. I’ve come to learn that myself through my life and we love you guys too”

The moment got interrupted when Peter ran up to his uncle, showing him some sparklers.

“Uncle Loki, look! I’m Doctor Strange!” He flailed his arms around.

Loki absolutely lost his mind seeing his nephew imitate the other man. He pulled out his phone, recording the boy and sent it to his former employer with a simple caption: “This is you”.Strange immediately received the message and just shook his head and continued to enjoy the festivity.

Tony knew in that moment that his son and his Uncle would get along great and would likely cause mischief together. Things were turning out better than he had imagined, never did the Tony Stark think he’d get married let alone settle down somewhere and have a family with the chaos that is his life. Even after everything that’s happened this was the least he deserved for risking his life to save everyone else.

Just before you and Loki were going to be sent off, Thor pulled you two aside, away from the partying. The three of you walked down the shore for a moment, before Thor finally said why he’d pulled you two aside.

“I have a wedding present for you, but I can’t give it to you just yet. You’ll have to wait until you get back from your honeymoon.”

“Mysterious,” you mused. “Have you taken a page from Loki’s book?” you teased, nudging Thor with your shoulder.

“Perhaps I have.”

“Thank you, Thor. I’m sure whatever it is, is most kind,” Loki sweetly said.

“It is, brother, thank you for noticing,” Thor replied and you rolled your eyes before linking arms with them to walk a little more.

Eventually, you three returned from your stroll, and at the end of the night the two of you were being sent off. Some people threw flower petals, others lit sparklers, the sorcerers you invited cast magical sparks your way. You and Loki ran under the send off, straight into a car that Tony had rented for the two of you.

You rolled down the window, blew a kiss to everyone, thanked them for coming, told them you loved having them there, then that was it. The car was in motion.

Off you went, on your honeymoon.

___________________

Unforseen Chasm Tag list- @reigningqueenofwords @oldfreakything @adefectivedetective @dontbetooobvious

Tag list- @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @winchester-writes @winchesterenthusiast @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @sammysbuttcheek @misz-adrii @sandlee44 @womanxofletters @natsuccs @childishhoebinoo @expecteddifferent @girl-next-door-writes @fanaticfanfiction @dakotapaigelove @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell @reigningqueenofwords @oldfreakything

Marvel: @reigningqueenofwords @flowerbunbunny @zelda2248 @misz-adrii

Second Note: I just want to thank every single person who has followed along with us through out this entire series! seeing all of you enjoying this series has really brought my spirits up throughout this shitty time. a special thanks to my Best friend @thorne93 for putting up with my antics and procrastination throughout the writing time. by far the best time I've ever had writing with someone else. stay tuned in for the next cowritten series by us!

6 notes · View notes

winsister91 · 5 years

Text

Imagine...

Word Count: 2100~

A/N: Sam imagine outta nowhere!! Hi guys. I’m still alive. This thing here started as an experiment, @sofreddie sent me that ^^^ lil pic up there and ordered me to roll with it. And I did! Here it is! Love you Shannon for forever kicking my ass into writing something <3 <3 <3 Fic under the cut!

My Masterlist!

~ Sam and forever tags are open! ~

“Sam!!” Y/N screamed, seeing him flung back into the wall with the force of the Witch’s spell. He fell quiet, his body stilled and she felt her heart jump into her throat with panic.

“Fucking hunters!!” the Witch snarled, her voice distorted and almost demonic as she readied another spell, “I will ruin you!”

“Sam,” Y/N hissed, as she shuffled behind her cover to get closer to the Winchester and hastily tried to rouse him. A small trail of blood trickled from his forehead and that was all it took for Y/N to see red.

With a snarl of her own, she grabbed Sam’s pistol from his hand, jumped up from behind her cover and fired off multiple rounds at the Witch.

Fruitless. With a shrieking cackle, they retreated, vanishing in an overdramatic cliche puff of smoke.

“Really?” Y/N scoffed, growling under her breath as she stashed Sam’s gun in the back of her pants and turned her attention to him, “Sam, Sam! Oh, c’mon please get the fuck up.”

Nothing, he’s completely out cold. In the same moment, however, she felt her phone buzz inside her pocket.

Please be Dean. Please be Dean. Please be Dean.

Internally thanking Chuck, she eagerly tapped the screen, “Dean! Get here, now.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。 “What the hell happened!?” Dean barked, as he lugged Sam’s KO body into the motel room and dropped him on one of the beds.

“Well,” she drawled sarcastically. Rather than dwell on her worry for Sam or frustration that the witch got away, she fuelled it all into anger, “See, the funny thing about Witches is that they have this thing where they can cast magic fucking spells. Every now and then, believe it or not, one can hit ya!”

“I knew I should have gone in with you both…” he grumbled under his breath.

“Standing right here Deano,” she folded her arms and pouted, “Thanks for the confidence boost. Look, I’m sorry. This Witch bitch is clearly more powerful than any of us anticipated. So...we fix Sam up and gun for her again, right?”

“Do you even know what spell he was hit with?” Dean questioned with a frown before he checked Sam’s pulse for the millionth time.

Y/N winced, her heart clenched at the sight of Sam and an icy cold sensation of worry scurried down her spine, “....No idea…”

“Wonderful.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

A couple of hours passed. After an incredibly long time of grumbling and pacing, Dean declared he was going out to make some calls and see if he could get a hold of Cas. Y/N sighed with slight relief as he left, she felt responsible. The one time Sam and her go for a case alone and of course, it fucks up. She kicked herself, cursing forever in her mind as she checked Sam’s head wound again. Thankfully it was just a scratch, an easy cleanup job that she performed earlier.

“So why aren’t you waking up?” she sighed out and sat in a chair beside the bed and gripped one of Sam’s hands tightly, “C’mon you big lug, you’ve handled more than this!”

She nudged his arm with a playful shove, sighing painfully again at the lack of response. Her eyes began to burn, without Dean in the vicinity, it became a hell of a lot more difficult to ignore her breaking heart.

“C’mon Sammy…” she gripped one of his hands tightly with two of her own. She rested her head on her knuckles, squeezing his hand to the point it was probably going to cut off the blood flow, “Please be okay,” she murmured, tears threatening to break through, “Don’t leave me now…”

“I’d never leave you…” Sam breathed out, his fingers twitching in Y/N’s hold.

“S-Sam?” she jolted back in her seat, staring into Sam’s now open eyes with awe, a broad smile growing on her face, “Oh thank fuck you’re okay.”

“M-my hands going numb....” he winced under his breath, prompting Y/N to swiftly release her vice grip on him.

“Heh, sorry,” she bit her bottom lip with a soft blush, “You just had me worried there.”

With a groan, Sam moved to sit up, resting back against the bed’s headboard. He grimaced, holding his head where the small wound resided, “My head is pounding…” he frowned with a small moan.

“Yup, you’re gonna have quite the bump on the old noggin there,” Y/N smiled, so full of relief that he was conscious that her heart felt like it was going to burst through her rib cage. She swiftly jumped from her seat, rushing to her duffle to retrieve a bottle of water and tossing it to him, “Drink that, I should text Dean that you’re up.”

She sat back in the chair at Sam’s bedside, her smile still not leaving her face as she quickly yanked her phone from her pocket and began tapping at the screen.

“M’sorry…” Sam mumbled, his voice groggy.

“Huh?” she looked up from her phone, brow furrowed, “No I’m sorry. I let you get hurt, then the Witch got away….I fucked up.”

“No,” Sam said, his voice suddenly sterner as he looked at her seriously, “Anything could have happened to you ‘cause I couldn’t protect you. Then I went and worried you…”

“Hey,” she tilted her head, putting the phone down on the bedside table. She gazed back at him just as seriously, “Nothing happened and...you’re okay, so let’s just leave it at that. Team Free Will lives on!”

He smiled warmly, his body language relaxing, “I’m glad,” he said quietly, taking one of her hands and holding it gently, his thumb grazing along the back of her palm, “Anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

She felt her heart swell impossibly larger, yet raised an eyebrow, “Uh...you sure you’re okay there, Sam?” she asked, feeling heat spread along her cheeks. She couldn’t move her eyes from their hands connected like this, “If Dean was here, he’d be all ‘no chick flick moments’,” she chuckled nervously.

“I’m better now I know you’re not hurt,” he answered, those dreamy hazel eyes of his locked on hers, “I’ll never let you down like that again Y/N. I will always protect you.”

“Sam, y-you can’t promise that,” she shook her head, eyes narrowed with suspicion, “What freaking spell did that bitch hit you with?”

That’s when her eyes widened. Spell. The pining eyes. The hand holding. The ludicrous promises. The simple fact that he’d never behaved like this with her before, even when they’d both been close to their deathbeds in the past. She had seen him behave like this once though...Becky.

She pulled her hand back from Sam’s, quickly rising from her chair and stepping back. “I know what’s going on here…” she mumbled, hastily grabbing her phone, her eyes flitting to the direction of the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” Sam grew tense, sitting up straighter and looking at her in concern, “Have I upset you?”

“N-no!” she squeaked, ignoring her rapidly growing heartbeat. She couldn’t deny how much she’d fantasized Sam uttering sweet nothings at her, but not like this. This was just torture, “You’ve been hit with a spell, okay? Nothing to worry about though, I’ll call Dean and we’ll fix this right now!”

Before Sam could react, the bathroom door slammed shut, the lock swiftly clicking.

Y/N leaned back on the door, holding her phone to her thumping chest with quick breaths.

“Oh fuck me…” she whined quietly, tapping again on her phone to call Dean.

“Y/N?” Sam's voice echoed from the other side of the door. He sounded close, like he was directly on the opposite side, “Baby, you okay?”

“Baby!?” she quietly shrieked, feeling her heart skip a beat. She kicked herself with a pained growl, “This is not the time for feelings, woman!” she scolded herself.

“Feelings?” Dean voice came through the speaker, “The hell are you talking about?”

“Dean!” Y/N cried desperately, “Dean you have to get back here, Sam is-”

“Is he up yet?”

“Yes but-”

“Oh thank fuck. Listen, sorry for being such a bitch with you earlier, shit happens, I know. You and Sam just need to get some rest.”

“Dean!” she shrieked, “There’s something wrong with Sam!!”

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s voice suddenly grew very alert.

“I...I think-”

Y/N jumped at another knock on the door, “Y/N, please open the door,” Sam pleaded on the other side, his voice breaking with desperation, “I know there’s a spell messing with me but...I just want you to be okay.”

“Aaaah,” she whined a painful noise, “Dean, Sam’s been hit with a love spell.”

“A what spell?” Dean scoffed in confusion.

“A love spell!” she squealed impatiently, “Ya know, the over the top, lovey-dovey, outta nowhere affectionate kind!”

“And...he’s acting like this with you?”

“Yes!!” she growled into the phone, “Who else is in the general vicinity for him to suddenly fawn all over!?”

“Will you just calm down for a second?”

“Calm down!?” she wailed, her eyes wide with shock at how Dean wasn’t freaking out.

“Ask him who his favorite singer is.”

She froze, brow furrowed and jaw slack in utter confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about Dean!? We all know it’s Elvis!”

“Just do it!”

She rolled her eyes and sighed defeatedly, clueless as to why the fuck Dean would have her ask this.

“Sam?” she called out hesitantly.

“Y/N?” he answered quickly and eagerly.

“S-so…” she started, stopping to briefly shake her head with a small bemused laugh, “Dean says to ask you who your favorite singer is?”

“Celine Dion,” he answered again, just as quick and matter of factly.

“See?” she rolled her eyes, talking back into the phone, “Like I said, it’s- wait what!?”

She did a double take at the door, jumping back from it slightly with an even more confused glare and pout.

“Celine Dion?” Dean chuckled at her reaction, knowingly, “I hate to break it you, Sweetheart, ‘cause I sure as hell know Sam didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“What, that he likes love songs revolved around historical disasters!?”

“It isn’t a love spell,” Dean continued, brushing off her remark, “It’s a truth spell. Love spells generally make the target fall in love with the caster.”

“T-truth…” her eyes were now comically wide, turning and slumping back into the door, sliding to the floor.

“Listen to me,” Dean instructed, “I got a hold of Cas, and we’ve actually got a lead on the Witch. They didn’t get far so we’re going straight for them. As soon as their taken care of, the spell’s effects should stop.”

“Right…” she answered distantly, only half listening to Dean words, “J-just don’t get dead... or truthed evidently…”

“Not planning on it,” and with that, the line went silent.

Y/N took a moment, sat on the dingy motel bathroom floor. She didn’t know what to think, and for some reason...she was angry?

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Sam paced around the next room, occasionally tugging on his hair and glancing hopefully at the bathroom door every time he thought he heard movement in there. It was getting the stage that he was considering kicking the door down because he was so wracked with worry.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to. The door finally clicked and slowly opened, Y/N stepping into view, her expression blank.

“Y/N…” Sam breathed, relief overcoming him as he exhaled a long sigh.

“You shouldn’t be standing,” she mumbled, “You could be concussed.”

“I’m not,” he said confidently, “I know...something’s not right, but I can’t...it’s like I can’t control myself.”

“Yeah,” she leaned on the doorframe, narrowing her eyes, “I guess truth spells would have that effect.”

“Truth spell?”

“Yup,” she popped the ‘p’, shoving herself off of the doorframe and slowly stepping into the room. She approached Sam like she was squaring up to him, looking up and gazing intently into his eyes, “Do...do you love me, Sam?”

“More than anything,” Sam answered instantly, almost taking himself a back as he continued, “And I have done for a long time.”

“Why did you never say anything?” she asked again, her breath shaky and cheeks pinkening.

“B-because…” he started, stepping impossibly closer to her, “I think you deserve better…”

“All these fucking years Sam…” she shook her head with a laugh, “If you just said something…”

“What?” he asked, visibly gulping down a nervous lump in his throat.

“Well…” she laughed softly again, looking back up at him, “We could’ve done this a hell of a lot sooner.”

Standing on her toes, she reached up to him, holding herself a hair’s width away from his lips.

Sam hummed in surprise when she suddenly closed the distance, pressing into him and their lips slowly gliding over each others. His arms moved to snake around her waist, holding her to him as they both lingered into the kiss. Their eyes fluttered closed, content hums and rumbles emanating from their throats before they eventually parted.

“I love you too, Sam.”

Tags! Forever Posse: @sofreddie @ria132love @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @pheonyxstorm @mrswhozeewhatsis @itspronouncedsatanbitch @the--real-wombat @xagateophobiax @jensen-gal @castiel11235 @19agbrown @mogaruke @nyxveracity @cole-winchester @esoltis280 @internationalmusicteacher @meganywinchester @sweetness47 @roonyxx @imperiusimpala @lazinessisalliknow @thisismysecrethappyplace @choosemyname @dean-winchesters-bacon @hunterswearingplaid @bella-ca @rainflowermoon @calaofnoldor @scarletsoldierrr Sam Sweeties: @andkatiethings

340 notes · View notes

sailorshadzter · 5 years

Text

author interview.

oh wow, i was tagged by @amymel86 @orangeflavoryawp & SOMEONE ELSE BUT IVE LOST YOUR TAG IN MY SEA OF NOTES. IM SORRY BUT I ALSO ACKLNOWLEDGE YOU WHEREVER YOU ARE.

thanks so much for the tags, everyone!! :P

Name: Shannon

Fandoms: well, there’s a LOT of them, haha. Jonsa, obviously. but there’s also: hinny / harry potter, inukag / inuyasha, usamamo / sailor moon, zutara / atla, hakyona / akatsuki no yona. ive created a lot of content for those fandoms, but im also into a lot of additional things ive not got around to writing for.

Where You Post: here on tumblr & ff.net.

Most Popular One-Shot: oh definitely my JIMSA oneshot.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: i dont do these as often anymore, but when winter ends, spring begins is probably my most popular fic. i never got around to posting it here on tumblr & its not finished (lol last updated in feb oops)

but there’s also the finished in my darkest of nights, you are the light that guides me home which is a hinny fic that was an idea i had a long time ago for a role play. it never panned out so i used it in a fic instead. it’s actually old & someday id like to rewrite it because its kind of awful. but its close to my heart.

Favorite Story You Wrote: oh! hard to choose!

i’m enjoying working on the role reversal fic, where sansa goes to dragonstone as queen in the north, to meet viserys, rather than jon meeting daenerys. ive been meaning to finish that next chapter.

BUT i also started one where margaery is alive & comes to sansa at winterfell after they reclaim it from the bolton’s. im excited to continue it.

however, writing wise, this one shot i wrote using a writing meme is one of my personal favorites. for whatever reason, it turned out really well written (i think) and i was pleasantly surprised when i reread it just the other day.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: honestly, none haha.

the worst thing that could happen is something just doesnt get a lot of notes or whatever, but even thats not a big deal to me.

How You Choose Your Titles: i SUCK AT TITLES. i miss role plays because i could just use song lyrics lmao. sometimes i come up with some really good ones but overall i usually tweak song lyrics or think for days and days and days about it.

Do You Outline: NEVER.

Complete: as someone who mostly writes oneshots.... A LOT. like i cant even begin to think about how many ive really written. the story i upload my tumblr jonsa prompts to has 92 itself and i have a separate jonsa prompt story for my own ideas that’s up to 41. and stepping out of the jonsa piece... ive got dozens of zutara & hinny stories like that as well.

it’s a lot. okay. a lot.

In Progress: i dont like this question LOL

okay ive got so many it’s not even funny. this is why i never look @ my ff.net page because it just shows me how many there really are.

but alright

ive got: - chapter 4 of the role reversal fic

- chapter 2 of the au where jon is kitn & sansa is married to joffrey in KL

- chapter 2 of the newest one, where margaery comes to winterfell.

- chapter 2 of the au where jon is the last targaryen & him

+ there’s a few i WANT to update. like my mulan / zutara au. & there’s a harry potter au that ive been itching to work on.

SO YES, A LOT.

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: Im one of those people who starts everything. i literally have nothing “coming soon” that isnt already started. this is why i have 65000 projects going all at once.

Do You Accept Prompts: always!

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: i know i said it above, but im really enjoying the role reversal fic. it’s getting me out of my comfort zone.

but im also excited to work on something else. it’s been all jonsa ALL THE TIME (and there’s nothing wrong with that!) and im ready to write for one of my old faves here pretty soon!

this was fun!

i tag: @angrykittykrys @anniebibananie @cat-stark +anyone else who wants to do it because i suck at tagging people lol

#tag game #author interview #about me #my writing #mutuals <3

9 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

late night improvisations (shalaska) - comeapart

a/n: i originally wrote this because i felt bad about how i keep writing sharon as the bad guy in all of my other fics but i didn’t mean to make it so sad. it’s first person from alaska’s perspective, and it’s about addiction and sadness and love and happiness. i’m trying something new, so i really hope this doesn’t bomb. 10k. read the tws before you read this and say nice things if you liked it (because it makes me smile but also because it motivates me to write more)

Hi, I’m a bottle of tequila on a wednesday night. Hi, I’m Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, and I’m here to ruin your life and make you wish you were never born, and to make you scream fight kick cry ruin your life. I’m here to ruin your life like snakes in the grass.

I grew up in Pittsburgh but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to keep me alive, but everyone already tells me I’ve been dead for a long time. The people who talk about me behind stalls in college and at clubs that I shouldn’t have wouldn’t have couldn’t have been allowed into. I had friends and we had parties where we talked about the idea of moving away and running away and existing. I grew up with family that loved me but not enough and definitely not enough to stop me.

I grew up with family that I chose, family that weren’t mom telling me you need to be back before eleven and dad that wouldn’t fucking let me exist breathe live. It was dark clubs and lines that Detox brought and Roxxxy holding my hair back the first time it got bad when the light pollution leaked into my veins and brought back a new side of me. I grew up with Family, with a capital FFFFFFFFFF, because they made me Alaska and they let Alaska be. They weren’t mom who thought drag queens were dirty but didn’t want to crush my dreams, and they hated dad who tried to beat it out of me.

One time Roxxxy told me I looked like a snake. Not because I was dirty slimy fake but I was long slender beautiful and everything that she wanted me to be because she wanted me to succeed. Me and Roxxy don’t talk anymore. She doesn’t talk to me but she talks to Detox. I know because Detox checks on me, even though my address is Hollywood and I don’t fucking care about Pittsburgh or any of the other areas places states that they visit and save gay kids in alleyways trying to get into clubs. Roxxxy doesn’t talk to me because I went back to her apartment one night, when my eyes were blown and broken and a thousand times worse than what they are now, and I hit her. I threw up on her carpet and ruined her shoes and I was so nervous and angry and there was lots and lots and lots of cocaine in me and I cried because I didn’t know what to do, I was so nervous. Roxxxy said, ‘I thought we were friends, Justin,’ and never spoke to me again.

Hi, I’m Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, and you have a name that starts with an S and that’s all I know. You don’t know me yet, but I’m going to ruin your life. I stare across a room of men drunk on cheap beer and I see you with cocaine in my eyes on my lips burning my head and I think, SSSSSSSSS. Roxxxy was right about me.

I grew up with a lot of family around me. Family didn’t mean anything to me anymore, but Detox said that my mom was a good woman, and she didn’t deserve the trouble my dad gave her. Detox never said shit about me.

I wrote about my mom for my creative writing paper and it got given back to me with a big DDDDDD on it and my teacher said that I didn’t put any effort into it. What he was really saying was FUCK YOU, JUSTIN. THIS IS WHAT YOU LIVED THROUGH AND IT ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH. THIS ISN’T CREATIVE, THIS IS TRAUMA AND MESS AND I DON’T WANT TRAGEDY, FUCK. Fuck, Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, you have no excuse for the amount of drugs in your system at eleven in the morning, and you have no excuse for the beer cans on your apartment floor and the leftover lines that you should’ve taken.

I thought about Detox this morning. I could’ve texted her but I didn’t because she didn’t want to know me, not really, not after I hurt her bestfriendboyfriendgirlfriend and made her wish she’d never had to meet me.

Hi, Hey, Hieee, Sharon Needles. Hi, I’m Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, and you can’t drop the number because it means something. I don’t know what it means, but I’ll make it up, because I can do that it’s my life. Sharon, Shannon, Shar, sharing needles, you are beautiful and I want you to ruin my life like I’ll ruin yours. It took me three lines to give me the courage to walk up to you and another to talk to you but I made it, Sharon. You want to get high?

Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, they talk about me. They say he’s fucked up all the time he does cocaine and he smokes weed (which they should’ve known because Alaska Thunderfuck isn’t just a state and a place it’s a drug it’s a strain of weed these fucking idiots should’ve checked their facts) and they say she shoots up heroin and they’re wrong about one thing, because I’m scared of needles and of feeling things that aren’t good and I’ve heard too many bad things about heroin to try her out. I would if it meant I could share your needles, Sharon Needles, we could share needles and talk about her. They say I’m fucked up that I’ll ruin your life.

They say things about how I sleep with anyone for drugs, and they’re wrong, because I’m a virgin because Roxxxy and Detox would never touch me because my daddy beat sadness into my bones because I’m insane and I’m fucked up. They talk about how I drink all the time and I’m always high and that I never leave my apartment except for parties and clubs and how I’ve never been in love and if I had I would be clean and sober and they’re right, and it’s all true. I’m a local living legend I’m a haunted house willing to fold in and kill if you get too close. I’m a time bomb.

Roxxxy Andrews didn’t listen to the things that people said about me until she did.

My next creative writing assignment is about mythology and I write about snakes. I should’ve written about theatrics and histrionics and the way my head makes me feel like I’m a God, because I am a God, and how every time I’m brought back with memories, but I don’t want pity. I don’t want my teacher to call the cops on me and tell them all about the big bad wolf that is Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, with the 5000 and delusions and buzz running through my bones.

Sharon Needles, Sharing Needles, I had a dream about us. What are we? I know I’m a fool a mistake a monster but what are you? Are you playing with fire?

Sharon Needles, I’ve seen you get high once, and you don’t care what people say to you or about you or around you because you’re Sharon Needles. I looked at your Myspace page and it was magic madness heaven hell and it was what I needed. You grew up religious and you made a post about how the catholic church could rot and you made a post about how you lived with another queen named Bob and you both took theatre. I wanted to take theatre, but I settled on Creative Writing and oh, the potential, the perfect storms. I could ruin your life with words but I won’t because you’re beautiful and you take drugs sometimes but you stay sober when I’m near and it’s weird and it makes me smile. Why do you think you’re better than this?

All the things people say about you are true and the next time I see you Sharon Needles you are so sober and I’m oh so fucked because I’m in love with you with the thought of you with wanting to be something for you. We talk about our majors and I tell you that I’m failing my classes because I keep missing the mark and you just tell me that it’s okay if I can’t pass because I’m still learning, and you’re older, you’re three years older than me, and you already know it all. You talk about theatre and how you make sets and how you put shows on and how you go to gay clubs and perform in drag with your friend Bob and I’m so jealous because I want to be that friend and I want to be what Roxxxy was to Detox and what Cory and his girlfriend had and I want that with you and it scares me. I tell you that I take English, but I leave out the creative writing part, because I take a fucking stupid major it’s a bad major that only dropouts and failing hipsters take and I take it because I’M NOT GOOD AT ANYTHING except maybe taking too many drugs and living to see the next morning. You give me a look that’s sad, and I want to take it all back, because I’m putting myself down in front of you but I already warned you ruining lives is my thing, that’s what I do and what I do best.

I get home from a show where I take drugs on stage and Sharon, I dream about giving you my hands. I take them off at the wrists and they’re yours if you want them, but you don’t want them so I take them back and I’m left with my hands it’s a sequel and the curtain drops and you kiss me like fireworks. I want you to be here when I wake up and my head hurts the same way it’s hurt for the last year and a half and there are no fireworks left.

I haven’t eaten in a week because I’ve only drank and cocaine is a miracle drug she’s my best friend and she makes sure I’m not hungry anymore, so it’s sometime in November and I’ve not eaten anything in a week. Nothing makes me hungry anymore, not even when I look with my eyes and see you posting on your Myspace account about how you got pizza after your theatre show and wished for me to come and I should just add you, but I’m so scared, I’m always nervous, and you’re cool. You post on Myspace about how you’re successful and how you’re putting on shows. I post about how sad I am and how high I’ve arched my eyebrows before going out. Makeup is the only interest I have left well that and you, Miss Needles.

I got a C on paper about snakes and I get a note saying that I need to focus more on the actual subject rather than my own thoughts. This means FUCK YOU, JUSTIN. YOU’RE SELF OBSESSED AND YOU HAVE TO TAKE DRUGS TO PRETEND YOU AREN’T AND YOU WON’T BE ANYTHING WHEN YOU HAVE TO FIND A REAL JOB. I nearly texted Roxxxy, but she wouldn’t be proud and my mom didn’t care as long as I was blowing my college fund away from her and daddy.

Miss Needles, you are too cute. You are so cute and it makes me ache, it makes my whole body tense and flush and I didn’t know those muscles in my cheeks still worked. Are they muscles? You don’t know either but you say I smile nice and you make me feel real. You ask me about loneliness and I lie and say I’ve never felt alone even though I feel so alone all the time when I’m without you when I’m at parties and at home and when you aren’t around. I’m the big bad wolf nobody wants to see me nobody wants to humour me nobody wants to be me nobody wants me.

Sharon Needles, with the name that starts with an S and reminds me of being called a snake you have the best heart and you wanted my hands this time in the dream and you kept them because you didn’t care that I was broken and you wanted me you wanted this. I woke up and puked blood on the carpet of my living room I didn’t clean it up because nobody comes here anymore and I cried because you’re ruining my life and I can’t escape I need to get out of here. College isn’t for everyone, someone wise once said. Wisdom is something Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, with the number, lacks and even I know that. My genius is calculated and I’m a fraud I’m so fucking dumb and I’ll prove it to everyone by killing every brain cell that mommy and daddy blessed me with.

They say write about something that influences you. I quoted your Myspace bio and said how you made me feel real and it was less than a hundred words but I handed it it in anyway. I got it back with an FFFFF, which meant JUSTIN, YOU AREN’T TRYING, YOU’RE RELYING TOO MUCH ON YOUR EMOTIONS AND IT ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH AND IF YOU KEEP GOING THIS WAY I WILL HAVE TO FAIL YOU OUT OF MY CLASSES and I didn’t mind because it was about you and you made it special. Next time I’ll put in the part about giving you my hands at the wrists and letting you keep them and I’ll prove that I’m okay.

Sharon Needles, theatre girl and crossdresser, we’re in the same place and you smell so good. Sharon Needles, Noodles, pleased to meet you again I’m the big bad wolf and I’m dangerous and you don’t know where your red cloak is but that’s okay because I’m not hungry anymore.

It’s always parties and you always seem so happy, you said Hi Alaska! And you seemed so happy and it made me warm like how weed makes me relax enough to sleep in my own bed until you weren’t happy anymore and your face was melting like wax and you’d flown too close to the sun, except I wasn’t the sun I’m never the sun, because I’m never happy enough to be anyone’s light. I was buzzing and I wanted to kiss you, rough you up and teach you things about hating yourself like I do. I didn’t.

Alaska, what’s wrong? Alaska, you look sad. I don’t know why I look sad, you’re the only thing I need, I could go cold turkey if you would promise to be mine. I don’t tell you this because I’m the wolf, and wolves don’t have remorse for their actions. They’re angry animals that hurt people and worship their primal instincts but my primal instinct is you and it’s always going to be you and it makes me hurt. It makes me hurt like I’m dying inside and everything is rotting and freezing over in the winter sun and there are no more sunsets, at least not when I’m awake.

My needles, my only needle, I’m seeing more and more of you and sometimes you look at me like you want me but you don’t know how. We share a dealer, but I only know this because I look at your Myspace when I’m fucked up, and I saw him in your friendslist. Sometimes you look at me like you want to touch me, like I’m abandoned property looking for vagabonds to keep and protect with what’s left of my sensibilities, and sometimes you look at me like you don’t know. That makes me sad, it makes me cry, and the blood in the carpet keeps getting bigger. It looks like my apartment is bleeding out, draining my life and I don’t mind it anymore because at least it’s accurate.

Detox said that there wasn’t anything about me that was real, anything left inside of me that could be even deemed as slightly real. She said this in a text message when I was fucked up on her floor, pains in my stomach burning through to the morning after when she was gone. I read the text drunk, and read it again and deleted it. I was a snake. I let the words stick to my hands, my fingertips, and I can still recite them. It’s been months since I’ve seen anyone I considered family. I wonder if I’ll die before I see anyone.

Sharon Needles it’s very different that I’m sober. It makes me feel like I’m going to die and I’m scared of death so I don’t stay sober I get drunk when I wake up and top up with designer drugs throughout the day all the way until I fall asleep. Take this moment of Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, Clean and Sober and never doing this again.

“Hey Alaska, how are you?” Your voice is always oh so concerned, like being older gives you rights to ruin my life and every feeling and emotion I’m trying to teach myself. It’s so sweet of you that you care. You have bleach blonde hair in the daytime, no wigs or makeup or dresses and it’s pretty and I’ve never seen skin like yours before it looks like you’ve got diamonds under shining through and sparkling. I’m pale too but I’m sick, what’s your excuse? You just live in the night. You’re my vampire saviour, which is so kind and sweet and perfect from someone who hates the church. I wonder if you would burn like vampires do if you walked into a church, or like the way I do when I don’t take drugs and I have to accept the weight of my sins sticking to my back.

“I don’t know, but I don’t feel good,” I’m property, you see? I don’t know how to feel. I know how to mirror what people tell me to feel, or what I know after a night out, but unless there’s something illegal inside of me I don’t feel good. You put your hand on my shoulder, on top of my fluffy coat, and I melted a little. You were trying to comfort me, teach me not to hate myself, but all you did was make the five ams less dangerous and make me smile all the way into my lectures. Thank you thank you thank you miss Needles. You tell me to call you Aaron and you give me your number in case I want to hang out, but you’re still my Needles.

Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, you’re going to ruin Sharon Needles life. Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, there isn’t anything about you that’s real, anything left inside of you that could be even deemed as slightly real.

Justin Honard, there isn’t anything left inside of you that could be even deemed as slightly real.

When my real daddy died I sat outside of the church and I cried all the time and I cried when Cory came and tried to help me and I cried when I told Roxxxy when the cocaine was filling my thoughts and telling me YOU NEED TO GIVE THEM YOUR EXCUSES. When my second daddy, my dad that wasn’t my dad because he was Cory’s dad and not my dad, wanted me to grow up, he didn’t use words. I wonder if he had if I would still be like this. I wonder if I will ever stop crying. Do I have excuses or are they just words? I email my teacher and she doesn’t reply. I don’t blame her.

Sharon Needles, this is dream three. Three doesn’t sound like much, but this time, you keep my hands, and you put them back on me and keep me too. I want to make you smile so bad, instead of making you sad and it hurts me and I wake up and throw up more blood and I know I’m rotting inside but maybe I can make you happy sometime. Maybe you’ll let me make you happy.

I see you at another party, because I saw you were going to Bob’s house party at your own house on Myspace and I wanted to be with you. You walk up to me and say something but I can’t hear you, because my ears are dancing with cocaine and E and probably something else, and you drag me to your room to get me alone. You ask me if I’m okay, and I don’t know. You ask me if I’ve drunk too much, or if I’ve taken drugs. I love that you don’t judge me like the rest of them, like how my teacher shies away from mentioning drugs or how that cute girl in my class tries to get me to admit to it before asking.

I can’t stop laughing by the time you’ve managed me to get me to sit on your bed, sitting next to me and touching my arm in the right way and I want to sleep with you, Sharon Needles, I want you to be my first and I want you to make me realise why I waited for something for once in my life. I tell you I took E, because you already know I take cocaine like people drink water. Oh, Noodles, I’ve been through all of this before, I’ve been through these questions, and I’m sorry for making you frown.

You make me drink water by putting the cup to my lips and I open my mouth and half of it goes all over me but I don’t care, because you’re making me less me, you’re making me nervous and I don’t even mind because it’s you Sharon it’s always been you. I definitely got some water into my system, but I have no idea how much, and you’re making me lie down but I don’t want to, so you let me put my head in your lap and you smell so good. What do you do to make yourself this good? It definitely isn’t cocaine.

“You feel any better?” You ask, and I just mumble something, and you stroke my hair and say something that I don’t catch until you ask me again, and you’re so warm and it makes me not insane anymore, at least not right now. “Do you have classes tomorrow, Justin?” I do, but I’m not going to them. I’m not going to any of my classes, because fuck classes, I can do all the work at home and not be judged by the masses of students who think they’re better than me because they are better than me. I tell you no, and you smile. “Do you wanna get coffee tomorrow with me? Around eleven? Are you going to be awake by then?”

Yeah, Sharon Needles, I’d love that. I don’t say love, but I do tell you yes, because I want it so bad and you let me lie in your lap with my head against your crotch until the party ends. Someone calls me a cab home but I don’t take it, and I walk the way back. It’s cold in Hollywood.

My head hurts and my heart hurts and my bones hurt and I want to be at your party again. Sharon Needles, my teacher will be so mad at me, but it’s so kind of you to buy me coffee and insist on paying. Alcohol is expensive and I don’t have any money left in my bank account, so thank you. I don’t tell you about all the horrible things I do for money, because I’m not in danger per se, I just don’t care about getting naked and asking guys for things on camera. I should get a sugar daddy, because at least then I wouldn’t have to deal things I want to take when there aren’t enough men online to coax out of their card numbers.

I tell you thank you so many times that you laugh, you actually smile and I want to kiss you because I did it I got Sharon Needles to smile and she seems to like me. I can ruin your life in seconds and you can smile and you can make me want to exist without all the bad inside of me, like a timebomb or a wolf or a fucking black hole. I thank you again, and you just smile at me wider and blush and tell me you’re welcome, and yeah, I am welcome. Thank you for inviting me, Sharon Needles, thank you for making me leave my apartment before it got dark. The sunlight burns my skin but it makes me think of you and your blonde hair and your smile and I want to spend all my days with you in the sun.

I’m fucked up. I’m Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, and I’m completely fucked up. I’m so happy that I want to live for the next five minutes until I’m not and I’m crying on the sidewalk and trying to walk into traffic that isn’t there. I’m being stared at and I’m crying and I’ve always been a crybaby and I’m so scared that you’ll listen to the things people say about me and you’ll hate me because they’re true. What are you doing with me, Sharon Needles?

You like theatre and you like parties where people aren’t fucked up like me, and I got my paper back that I don’t remember writing. I got a BBBB on the paper, and it was about Detox. I never once capitalised her name, and my teacher probably got the wrong idea. Either way, I’m making you proud, even if you don’t know it.

You ask me out for coffee again, and I say YES because it’s you. You get me more coffee and you don’t let me pay and my bag has all the essays I’ve failed but they mean nothing because I have my essay which got a BBBB too. You tell me that I look hungry, and I haven’t eaten in at least a week, so I let you buy me one of the muffins they make and I pick pieces off like a vulture. You call me “Lasky,” in passing and I forget how to breathe and I don’t know whether it’s because my body doesn’t like food anymore or if it’s because you like me enough to give me a nickname. I smile when you keep calling me Lasky and yeah, it’s the nickname, and you make me smile. You are magical and I don’t know why people keep talking about you like you’re a graveyard, because you’re the only place I feel alive.

I meet you in the library on campus that I only discovered existed when I asked to borrow a textbook that I couldn’t afford, and you make fun of me for not knowing it existed, and you show me things in your sketchbook about set design and you teach me all these terms that I can’t remember. I don’t know why you keep making an effort with me, because I’m trouble, Sharon Needles. I tell you that I want to draw you, and you just smile and say we’ll make those plans later, because you’re just starting your masters and you need to make sure your theatre degree is on track before you can do things that aren’t coffee and partying. I think you don’t think that I can draw, but I can, because I spent a long time building this face and these perfect lines that make me look like a girl.

You offer to brush my wig next time, and you come to watch me perform. I take off all my clothes and I’m so pale, but nobody cares, because I’m wearing fake tits and nails that are longer than my fingers and I’m an embarrassment in a wig. Afterwards, I manage to find the panties again, and I spend the rest of the night with you. You watch as I do lines off of a girl I can’t remember the name of, something like William or Willam or Willim and you just hold me when things start fading.

I dream about you holding me, and I wake up on my floor. I’m glad you aren’t here, Sharon Needles, because you would be scared of my apartment. I’m glad you don’t come here. I’m glad you let me come to you instead. Four dreams about a boy don’t seem like much, but they’re about you, and I want to do theatre with you. I wanted to be an actor when I was little. I wanted a lot of things.

I can’t remember if Sharon Needles is taller than me. I will ask her next time I see her. I write this in my notebook and hand it in instead of the essay I was supposed to write, and leave the class an hour earlier than I should’ve.

“I like you.”

This is what you say to the big bad wolf, the mistake, and the life ruiner. You tell me you like me when you think I’m not paying attention, and we’re watching a movie on your couch, and it’s mid december. It’s winter. Summer is when you’re supposed to fall in love, but you still say it, because you’re Sharon Needles and you don’t give a fuck about what you’re supposed to do. I like you too, I like you so much, and I hug you a little tighter when I slur the words out. I’m trying to whisper, but I’m still the villain, and I’m drunk from the morning. I still said it, though, and you heard me.

I’m going to cry and puke and break down and wish that you had never gotten to me when I get home, but right now, you wrap your arms tight around me and anchor me and I let my bones sink into yours because I haven’t got any weight left and I nearly fall asleep on you, ignoring the movie you told me to pay attention to you because I want to think about you.

Sharon Needles kissed me on December 12th. I write it down, hundreds of times into my notebook when I should be making notes on math, but math isn’t important and I know I’ll fail anyway. Sharon Needles kissed me after Bob left the room to go to a class and we were eating plain bread and picking it apart and I was so high that I felt everything and Sharon Needles tasted like the good type of liquor, sweet and warm and perfect.

Needles, my Needle, my baby and my prince and my princess, I fucked up so bad. I fucked up and I got fucked by my dealer because I couldn’t afford what I wanted to buy and he said I could have it if I let him touch me. I didn’t tell him I was a virgin because I didn’t want him to think I was weak but he got inside of me and roughed me up like a crash test car, and there was blood when I got home. My body looks like a war ground but I’m not in debt, I’m not scared, and I’m not going to tell you because I don’t want you to hold it against me. I fucked up like I fuck everything up, I ruin lives, but you already knew this. I came home and drank more and threw up blood on my carpet and in the bathroom, which is a new one, and I won’t ever clean it up because I deserve this.

Sharon Needles has kissed me six times, which is lucky. It’s the evil number, but it’s our number. I stop going to class completely, and ignore every single email my teacher sends me, and I don’t care if she kicks me out. I slip papers under her door when I go in to visit Sharon Needles after her classes, and make sure she never sees me, because I look bad all the time I haven’t washed in weeks and it’s showing under all the makeup and fake self esteem.

It’s weird to eat meals. I don’t have much choice in eating, but you feed me, Sharon Needles, and you make sure I eat once a day. You’re making my bones look less like bones, and my stomach stop turning every single morning. You take me out and buy me food and I thank you so much that my teeth nearly fall out, and I ignore the fact that I should be telling you I love you.

I don’t ever want you to see my apartment, but I need to get something from my room before we go to yours and I have to let you in and you turn cold. You look at my apartment and you look as scared and sad as you did the first time I told you I wasn’t okay. I can feel myself burning up, like I need to cry but I can’t, because you shouldn’t have seen it. You thought I was okay, because you’re an optimist, and I’m not, because self sabotage is my favourite thing. You see all the drugs on my table and the blood and the puke and the blanket that I keep on the couch because I don’t sleep in my room and I don’t leave my couch because I keep my drugs there and you can see the dust collecting on all my things and the fact I haven’t ever been into my kitchen because I don’t eat anymore. I drag you out of my apartment once I’ve gotten my coat and the bag with my wig and makeup in, and I walk ahead of you because I pretend you haven’t seen anything and I pretend that there’s just rain and it’s not my tears because you don’t know JUSTIN, THE CRYBABY, but you know ALASKA THUNDERFUCK 5000, who is everything Justin isn’t.

Sharon Needles, you have kissed me a total of sixty-six times. I want to make a joke about it, but I don’t want you to realise how fucking insane I am, and how I counted every kiss. That’s our lucky number, our graveyard number, and it’s ours. I’m sleeping over. I don’t ask if this is because you now know I sleep on my couch surrounded by my own blood, but I probably know. We make out in your room and I try to give you my hands, like I do in my dreams, but they won’t unhinge. Instead, I give you my body, and you don’t want it. You don’t think I can consent to what I’m asking for, and it hurts. You’re right, but it still hurts that your friends know all about me, but you still think I’m pure.

You hold me all night, and I don’t know if you love me or if you pity me. You touched my hip and pulled me closer, and you didn’t mention my bones or the fact they kind of hurt to lie next to even though they definitely did because they hurt to lie on. I write about you in another paper, six pages of exactly why relationship dynamics were important, and how dating someone brought out youth within people. You make me feel young again, like before when my daddy died. I get an AAAAAAA, and hey, that’s part of your name. That’s you, Aaron Sharon Needles. You got me a good grade.

Dream number five is numb. I don’t know what I would do without you, so I freak out, and I puke more. There’s so much blood everywhere, Sharon Needles. You don’t want to know me.

I tell you so many times that I’m sorry, because I’m drunk, but worse than that, I’m high too and you’re looking at me funny and I can’t stop apologising because I am sorry. I’m Sorry with a capital letter, because it’s important. I want to kiss you, but you pull away, and you just want to know what is going on. My mouth is numb with pills and I AM SO SORRY THAT I SLEPT WITH MY DEALER, THAT I LET HIM FUCK ME BEFORE I LET YOU FUCK ME, I WISH I HADN’T LET HIM TOUCH ME BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO BE MY FIRST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND I WISH YOU LOVED ME LIKE I LOVED YOU, I AM SO SO SORRY. Your friend is looking at me like they hate me but they don’t because they’re sorry that I hurt myself more than anything else, and you’re making me leave, because you don’t want me to embarrass you and I feel like I’m fifteen again and daddy is going to hit me because I won’t stop crying because that’s all I am anymore, I’m sadness and broken glass and tears and none of me is real.

I’m Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, and I want your nightmares I want to be your nightmares. I did lines before my English class, and it’s cold outside, and there’s no Sharon Needles so there’s no reason to even try. I’ll ruin your life, so you don’t come back. I want you back, Sharon Needles. I want you back so bad.

My daddy used to hit me every day, and my mommy never told anyone. I was the only kid he hurt, because I was gay, and he was horrible. I miss my real daddy, I didn’t want him to die. I don’t know why he had to die but I want him back. I have to write a paper about suffering and about how everything is fine because if I let on that I’m broken, I’m going to be hospitalised, and nobody has told me this but I know because I know things. I know all these things, Sharon Needles, and nobody will listen to me.

I write about child abuse and how all little kids want is to listen to their parents and how at that age everything you hear has a direct effect on you, and all little kids want is to hear the brilliant things that adults come up with and experience. I don’t mention how it sticks through until you’re an adult, how you still rely on parental figures to exist as a real person. I still get an A. It makes me think of you, Sharon Needles, and your boy name that I didn’t ever call you once.

My dealer appeared at my doorstep and I used up all of my money for the rest of the semester on drugs, and now I’m set for months. Months is more like days at the rate I’m going at but I’m the wolf, I’m the dragon, I’m the bad guy in the shitty movie you made me watch and I don’t care.

I see your roommate, Bob, in the corridor on my way to drop off a paper. I should smile, like a normal person, but all I can think about is the fact that you probably talk about me and you probably believe everything he says about how bad I am now and you never used to, and I scream in his direction because I don’t know how to deal with emotions anymore. I don’t know what else to do, but I’m crying, I’m sobbing, and I drop off the paper and call a cab home, and when I can’t pay, I give him my watch and tell him it’s silver. It is, but he doesn’t believe me, and tells me to keep it and never to call again. I wish he’d called the cops on me and made me suffer, because I deserved it and I deserve it and I’m so afraid of myself. I’m so afraid of myself, Sharon Needles, I’m so fucking scared.

I want you to be okay, Sharon Needles. I hope you’re doing better than I am. My apartment smells like blood and I haven’t left my couch in days, because I don’t have anything to do other than lie in my own sadness. I’m skin and bones, and you need to help me again, because you were the only thing I had going for me. I haven’t slept in two days now, and soon it will be three, and then I will be left with my head screaming at me for something I can’t do. Can you die from sleep deprivation, Sharon Needles? Can I?

Hi, I’m Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, and the club I used to see Roxxxy and Detox at was just the subject of a shooting. I don’t know if either of them are alive, but I saw it on my TV, when the news was finally willing to tell the numbers. Fifty six people died that night. I hope my friends weren’t part of that number. I love them so much, even though they hated me, and I don’t want them to die. I will never know if they died because I am weak and anxious and I can’t even fucking call them, and it’s good, because they would’ve hung up had they heard me. I know it.

I don’t know why but I’m high and I’ve finished a whole bottle of Tequila within twenty minutes, and I want to see you. I miss you, Sharon Needles, and I love you so much. I love you and I know that I’m cold blooded and I’m a snake, and you don’t want anything to do with me, but I’m in love with you. I miss you so much, and I want to die. I don’t know why, but I decide I want to die now, and I use one of the shards of bottle from the floor and the blood and I try and stab myself, but it doesn’t work, it just bleeds. My stomach hurts. I think if I’m going to die, I want to be asleep, and if this is a slow way of dying, I’ll sleep through it.

I’m sorry, Roxxxy Andrews and Detox Icunt and that girl William that I never learnt the name of and all of the local performers who got mad when I got the most tips. You would all be so disappointed if you knew Justin Honard, Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, was a failure. I am so sorry, all of you. I miss you so much, Sharon Needles. I miss you so so so much.

AAAAAAAA, A for Aaron and Sharon sounds like Aaron, and I miss you.

It hurts, kind of. I think it should hurt more, but instead of sleeping, I did another five lines and turned the TV up to fill the silence. There is glass pointing out of my stomach and my body looks disgusting and I can’t stop thinking about theatre. I want to fucking die from how happy theatre and cocaine and cocaine and more cocaine can make me. I should get up and clean and make you come over and stop pretending I’m sick, because I’m not sick, not in the way people think I am. I want you to be mine so badly, I want to be Myspace official and I want you to talk about me and brag when people ask because you got me, you got the loser with the drug addiction in love with you head over heels and desperate. SSSSS always reminded me of snakes.

You called my apartment and left a message, and you called me Lasky, and then you called me Justin. I couldn’t move because of the glass, but I listened, and you told me you loved me. Past tense. It burnt me more than any lighter or high could. You said I never let you hold my hand, but you never wanted to hold my hand. You sounded like you regretted it. I wanted to take the glass out of my body and put it back and try again, but it was scabbing and it hurt so bad and I wanted you more.

I hurt so much, Sharon Needles, because all of the drinks are empty and I can’t reach any of the drugs and I can’t move and there’s so much blood, and I look like a horror movie. I look like I belong in your graveyard, and maybe I get it now, why they call you a graveyard. You hold what’s left of my heart, I think. I would check, but that requires moving, and I can’t do that. I think I’m going to die, and I’m throwing up on myself and there’s blood and bile and it burns in a way that hurts more than anything Cory’s dad did to me.

It hurts to open my eyes, so I stop opening them and I listen to the TV. My apartment smells like hell, like real hell where people are forced to live out their deaths, wondering exactly why things were bad.

“Lasky, I found you,” You’re crying, Sharon Needles, and I don’t know why. I’m so sorry for making you sad, I don’t ever want you to be sad, because I love you so much. I think you’ve called an ambulance, but I don’t remember moving or getting into it, and I think you’ve made them strap my neck down because my nose won’t stop bleeding now I’m awake again. You made them leave my hand free, though, because you wanted to hold it, and you made me smile even though I was about to die. I think if I had died in that moment, I wouldn’t have minded, because it would’ve been with you.

I spend the time without you asking about you. I ask every nurse I see, and from the second they take me into the surgery, I dream about you. I don’t think I’m going to die this time, but I would deserve it if I did. I did all this damage to myself, because I couldn’t do it to you, and I’m the big bad wolf, I’m the worst thing you’ll ever experience. I don’t remember my apartment when I wake up, but I nearly throw up, and a nurse stops me from puking on myself by handing me a basin and rubbing my back so kind oh so kindly.

Oh, Sharon Needles, I fucked up. You hold my hand like you said I never let you when I wake up, and it looks like you’ve been crying so hard that your eyes might fall out. They tell me that the surgery took a long time, because I had managed to shatter the glass inside of me trying to get to the drugs on my table, and they had to replace the blood because I had lost so much blood I was going to die. You found me, Sharon Needles, and you’re holding my hand so tight, like if you don’t then I might disappear, and I love you. You found me covered in blood and puke and half-dead and you still want to hold my hand.

I sleep for days afterwards, and when I wake up again, you’re cuddling me like you did when I stayed over. It scares me how much I like you, and how much you like me back. I think you like me sober, too, and I’m not against that. I think with you around I could like me sober too, because my thoughts are less like car crashes and more like thoughts, more like something you can hold and understand.

You pass all of your midterms and you only leave my side once, to go take them. Bob and your friend Willam (that’s her name, and she’s a dude and I can’t believe I didn’t know I should’ve known) take it in turns bringing you food because you won’t leave me, and you want to make sure they’re feeding me, and they are. They feed me through a needle and they make sure I’m hydrated and it’s different. I’m glad I have insurance, because the thought of staying in the hospital for this long out of pocket makes me want to die.

I have painkillers pumping through my system while I recover, and your friend Bob even smiles at me, and I apologise for screaming at him because I didn’t know how else to react. I think all of your friends are worried about me. I like all of them now, though.

I make you watch TV with me, even though you think I should sleep, and I haven’t been high in six days. I haven’t been drunk or high in six days I’m clean I’m clean and sober and I’m in love with you and all of the withdrawal symptoms are hitting me so hard but I’m in love with you and I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking and I shouldn’t speak, but I mumble something about hearing your message, and you definitely heard me. I’m too worried about the things they found in my room to stop myself, and I say, “It was nice to hear your voice. I really liked it, even if you called me scary,” and I leave out the part where I should agree with you calling me scary because I know you don’t like it when I put myself down.

I’m so tired, and you’re crying, Sharon Needles, and I don’t know why I even said it. You keep apologising, like I did, but you have nothing to apologise for. You saved my life, Sharon Needles, you found me and you saved my life and you made me love you. You keep crying, and I hug you, because I don’t know how to make you realise that you don’t need to be sorry. You keep crying, and I kiss you, and you’re quiet, and you kiss me back. You kiss me back and you make me okay.

I know that they say things about me, because I hear some of them. I know, and all of the things they say have changed, they talk about how I tried to kill myself with an empty bottle of Sambuca (which is a lie, but they aren’t far off) and they talk about how I cut through my own small intestine and I managed to do lines while I was lying in a pool of my own blood and puke and piss and how fucking cool that is.

I hope they say things about you, too. I hope they say that Sharon Needles saved Alaska Thunderfuck 5000’s life, and she had to walk through hell before she could bring me out and save the day. I hope they give you a better nickname, something cooler than Graveyard, but you’re fucking cool and you deserved it even before I managed to ruin your life. Because you’re Sharon Needles, and you’re my girlfriendboyfriendbestfriend.

Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, you’re a mess. You’re an ex-druggie ex-alcoholic like your dead father and you tried to kill yourself by shattering glass into your organs and you failed at that because you’re a failure and you’re a mess you’ll ruin everyone’s lives by just existing but Sharon Needles is in love with you, and she tells you it every day. Sharon Needles says “I love you, Justin” every single day, and she loves loves loves you so much that she comes and visits you every single day and she didn’t let you die when she could’ve and she even reads to you, because she’s the best person in the entire world and she loves you.

I have to repeat my semester, which sucks, but I’ll be with you and you love me so much that I’ll actually go to my classes because I really want to make you proud. You talk about how it’s cold and you’re going to spend Christmas with me because you’re not going back to Pittsburgh, and I cry. Not because I miss Pittsburgh, but because I never even knew that we were from the same place, and I love you. I want to know everything about you.

So you tell me everything you can think of, and you sit in bed with me and at one point I cry and you ask me what’s wrong, and I just hug you and tell you about Roxxxy and Detox and snakes and my daddy and my real daddy and how he died and how Roxxxy and Detox could’ve died and how I used to be a genius, and I wanted to take theatre, but I couldn’t because I was too smart and my family wanted me to be a writer. You didn’t judge me, you just listened. I wish I could’ve gotten you a present, but I wasn’t allowed to leave, and I felt guilty when you got me a necklace with an ‘A’ on and you wore one with a ‘J’ and you got me a sweater that smelt so good. You got me clothes, some shirts and scarves and told me if I kept recovering I would actually be allowed to wear them, and I wanted to kiss you, so I did. I’m sorry I cry so much, Sharon Needles. I’m sorry I made you realise I cried so much.

They let me out of the hospital a few days after Christmas, and I found out that my mom paid off the medical bills when I tried to go and pay. Fuck her, I could’ve died and she wouldn’t have even visited me, because she was embarrassed of my new dad finding out his fag son was a self-sabotage. Nobody knows you saved my life, Sharon Needles, but I know, and when people give you mean looks and you ignore them, I just thank you. I know people know you’re in love with me, the freak accident that should never have made it to college, and you’re so good to me, and I don’t deserve you. I really don’t deserve you. You help me when my legs feel weak after not being allowed to walk for the duration of being in the hospital and you help me bring my things into your house and you let me move in, because I can’t stay in my apartment, it’s covered in blood and puke and it’s haunted and they confiscated all of drugs, and I won’t go back. Your friends are okay with me living there, which I love them for, and they talk to me every so often until they think that I’m their friend too. I don’t deserve your kindness, Sharon Needles, and I am getting better every single day. I don’t go out to parties, and when I drink, I stop when you tell me to. Not because I want to, but because I want to impress you. I wear all the shirts you gave me, and I rest because you make me rest, and we watch movies on your couch and I let Bob pick the movies because I feel like it would make him happy, especially because we end up kissing for most of the time we’re outside of the room.

I start calling you Noodles, because Aaron doesn’t sound right, and Sharon doesn’t match your face when you’re not in drag. Needles still scare me, so I settle on Noodles, and you like it. You smile when I call you Noodles, and make jokes about being so cute I could just eat you up. I don’t eat you, though, because I am not the big bad wolf anymore, at least not to you.

I tell everyone that I meet that you saved my life. I tell them that you loved me so much that you saved my life, even though I was horrible and I was so bad and I look insane when I tell people who talk about you that FUCK YOU, SHARON NEEDLES SAVED MY LIFE, AND YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME.

It’s so cold outside, and I leave the house now. It’s colder when you leave the window open, because you want me to cuddle you closer but you won’t ask, and I love you so I just make sure you hold me as tight as possible and tangle our legs together like they’re string. I have a scar on my stomach now, but the only people that see it are drunk, and they think it’s part of the act. You like it, and you think it’s okay, even if it scares you sometimes. I think I scare you sometimes, but you won’t ever tell me that, and I love you so much. I really really really love you. You make me less anxious and you make me exist as myself and not just as intoxication, and that’s better than any A on a paper, and it’s better than not hearing people talk about me. You found out that both Roxxxy and Detox survived, and you told them that I missed them, and they started talking to me again, and I love you for fixing my only friendships. I want to propose, but you think I’m too young to know any better, so you tell me to save my money for rent instead. You let me help out in your theatre productions, and you show me all of your set designs, and I draw you all the time. You let me come and watch when you got a tattoo, and I was scared of the needle, but you were so happy to get the tattoo that I sat through it anyway.

I wake up sober every single day and West Hollywood is so cold, and I love you, and you make my mornings exist. I love spending my days with you and I love performing and being able to remember it, and I love you, Sharon Needles.

#comeapart #alaska thunderfuck #sharon needles #shalaska #recovery and falling in love #angst #tw child abuse #tw drug abuse #tw alcoholism #tw suicide attempt #rpdr fanfiction #submission

23 notes · View notes