#i literally have never felt this way about Burn but with Owen i keep thinking it

[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

I mean this is the nicest way possible, but why does Owen look like a muppet?

#Torchwood #Owen Harper #like what is it about him?? #i know i know it's the mouth like an open wound #it makes him look like he belongs in a Jim Henson production or something #this is not a hate post i genuinely enjoy it #it's funny because it's not Burn that looks like a muppet #it's specifically Owen #i think it's because he doesn't smile a lot #i literally have never felt this way about Burn but with Owen i keep thinking it #and i can't unsee it now

[dongofthewolf]

Hiii! Can I request no.9 from the cliché prompts and fake dating au?

Making Amends

Abby Anderson x Reader

Prompts: 9. “There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling” 18. Fake dating au

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hint of angst, Owen and Mel slander (sry I had to)

No pronouns are mentioned for the reader

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: Both tropes are literally my favourite things ever and it was so fun to write so ty for requesting it. It ended up way longer than I intended so uhhh yeah hope you enjoy LOL (esp if you requested it)!!

“What the hell Abby?! Have you been telling people that we’re dating?” You had cornered Abby into a secluded hallway, trapping her against the wall with your finger on her chest accusingly.

There was a flicker of fear in Abby’s eyes as she chewed on her lip nervously. Abby was considerably stronger than you and you probably looked like a mouse trying to intimidate a lion, but you didn’t care.

Abby couldn’t meet your burning gaze, all she replied with was a prolonged “Uhhhhhh”.

“Abigail Anderson, answer me right now or I swear to God-” It was rare for you to whip out her full name. And maybe it was kind of a cheap move, but it was a cheap move that almost always worked.

“Fine!” Abby interrupted, letting out a short sigh and preparing herself for the worst. “I kind of told Owen we were dating and I'm pretty sure he’s been telling other people.”

She said the words as quickly as possible, closing her eyes like a bomb was about to go off. Your reaction wasn't far off to say the least.

“You what? Why the fuck would you tell him we’re dating?” There was venom in your words and Abby flinched just slightly.

You were angry, incredibly so. You and Abby have always been close friends, or more so you had been until she started dating Owen. At first it was small things; cancelling plans or leaving early because she was busy and you completely understood. It’s not like you didn’t want her to hang out with him, and obviously you wanted her to be happy, but eventually it got to a point where she hardly ever spoke to you. Aside from the occasional greetings in the busy stadium, it was like you guys had never even been friends.

Now, after completely ignoring you for the past months, she decided it was a good idea to tell people that you guys were dating? It only seemed right for you to be pissed off.

“I just... Everyone kept looking at me like some sad puppy dog because I broke up with Owen, which normally I can handle. But every single day I kept getting the same sad fucking looks and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I told them I was seeing someone. I never mentioned your name but they kept prying, and prying and you were the first person that popped into my mind. I’m really sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything at first, instead you looked at Abby without a hint of emotion on your face, and even less in your tone when you did finally speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up?”

Abby paused, she didn’t know what response she was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that. “I um, I figured you knew. Pretty much everyone in the stadium knows.”

“Yeah well… I didn’t.” You were quiet. A part of you was angry and annoyed, but another part of you pitied Abby. She had never been one to lie, especially about something as petty as this.

Before you could think of something to say, Abby broke the silence. “Listen, I know you probably hate me right now, but I need to ask you a small favour.”

“Seriously?” You nudged Abby’s chest, pushing her into the wall again. The pity quickly dissipated to nothing, leaving you once again with a seething rage.

“Look, I know things between us haven’t been ideal but-“

“Haven’t been ideal?!” You interrupted, the absolute ignorance in her words tipping you off the edge. “Abby, you threw me away like I was trash! We were friends and you left me to hang out with Owen. I didn’t even know you guys broke up because you don’t tell me shit anymore!”

“I’ll do anything Y/N, okay? I’ll do your laundry, clean your room, I’ll even take your shifts for patrols.” Abby’s hands were on your forearms as she spoke. “Please just do this one thing for me and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying you back.” There was sincerity in Abby’s face, a hint of desperation too.

You paused. What could Abby possibly want so badly that she’d be willing to do all this for you? Even though you were angry at her, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit intrigued.

“I’ll do anything Y/N, please. There must be something that you want.” Abby pleaded, absolute seriousness in her eyes.

“What I want is to never see you again.” Your finger was pointed at her chest again, poking her lightly.

Immediately you could see the hurt on Abby’s face. Okay, maybe that was a little bit harsh (and kind of petty) but you weren’t just gonna let Abby off that easily. Not after everything she’s done.

“Fine…” Abby paused to contemplate her next words, wiping the sadness from her face. “Fine, after tonight if you do this thing for me, we’ll never have to see each other again, I promise. I just need you to come to this party with me. We don’t have to talk or hold hands or anything and you can spend the whole night hating me, but I just need you there.”

“I-“ You couldn't do that. You couldn’t just pretend and lie to all of Abby’s friends for a whole night… Could you?

“Please Y/N. It’s embarrassing, okay? When we broke up, Mel immediately jumped in to fill my space. Everyone knew it and I had to pretend like I didn’t care so people would stop treating me like a wounded animal. If they find out I lied about you? I don’t think they’ll ever stop seeing me that way.”

You looked at Abby and felt a tinge of sympathy, she looked so sad and desperate, and for a second you even considered it. One night couldn’t hurt, right? Wait, no.

You mentally slapped yourself, trying to snap yourself out of it. You were not going to give in that easily. Nope. This was Abby, the same girl who threw away your friendship like it was nothing, and you were not going to let her use you like this. Not even while she’s looking at you with those sad, blue eyes. Nope, you’re mad, you’re angry, you’re-

“Fine.” Fuck.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Abby’s eyes lit up as she wrapped her arms around you, lifting you into the air while she let out a breath of relief.

What did you just get yourself into?

—

“I can sleep on the floor, it's really no problem.” Abby offered, there was a slight nervousness in her tone as she stood in front of you shifting her weight on the balls of her feet.

“Abby, that’s stupid. It’s not like I’m infected or something.” You huffed, reaching for the box of matches to light the candle next to you.

Sometime after the party there had been a power outage and the entire WLF base went lights out. Meaning there was no heat and most annoyingly, no lights.

After a night of uncomfortable looks and even more uncomfortable conversations in which you spent most of the party trying to avoid Abby’s friends, she was walking you back to your room when everything suddenly went dark.

The both of you practically crawled to your room before you could locate a light source of some kind. It had been an hour since the power went out and you insisted that Abby sleep in your room, for… safety purposes.

You shook the match till it was out, suddenly you were thankful for impulse buying those candles last week.

“It’s fine, I’ll just crawl halfway across the stadium until I find my room. No biggie.” You couldn’t tell if she was joking, but something in you felt like she would actually do it if you didn’t insist she stay here.

You sighed. “Just sleep here Abs, it’s easier and I’m offering. Plus, I don’t need you army crawling across the entire WLF base. It’s hard on the arms, even for someone as strong as you.”

“You think I’m strong?” Abby smiled teasingly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, looking away as you tried to hide the small grin on your face. God, it was hard to stay mad at Abby.

“Shut up and take the bed.” You could tell Abby was reluctant but she still plopped herself onto your bed. She sat awkwardly on the edge, unsure of how this was going to work.

You tried to ignore Abby’s weird energy as you buried yourself beneath the covers. It took a minute for her to actually lay down in the bed but when she did, she was careful to keep her distance. It was pretty funny (and pretty cute) how unsure she was.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Abby whisper your name softly, almost like she wasn’t sure if you could hear her.

Nuzzling your nose into your pillow you whispered back a small “Yeah?”.

“Thank you.” You could hear the genuity in Abby’s voice, how grateful she was for such a simple act and suddenly it hit you, you didn’t want her to leave you alone. You missed this—missed Abby.

Instead of responding you nudged her foot lightly with yours. It was something you guys had done as kids, like a silent way of saying “I’m here.”. Under the dinner table with the Fireflies or during training when you first joined the WLF; it was an unspoken thing between the both of you. An action that spoke much louder than words possibly could.

The both of you laid on opposite ends of the bed, your backs turned to each other. You shifted under the sheets before finally finding a comfortable position, you fell asleep that night to the steady sound of Abby’s breathing.

—

You were first to wake up, confusion washing over you when you felt your head rising and falling. Why the hell was your pillow moving? Then it hit you; it wasn’t the bed moving, it was Abby. Your head lay resting on Abby’s chest, her arm over your back while your limbs were wrapped around her like a giant stuffed animal. The sound of her beating heart was soft in your ears and you could feel her breath coming out in steady increments, blowing lightly against your head.

You weren’t sure what to do about your compromising position. It was already too late for you to leap out of her arms and a large part of you didn’t want to move anyways. So you decided to pretend to sleep until she woke up. That way you wouldn’t have to decide what to do, she would.

Abby woke up shortly after you, you could tell she was awake by the way her breath hitched in her throat upon noticing how you guys were situated. However, instead of jumping out of the bed in a panic, Abby didn’t move either, and it took everything in you to not open your eyes.

After a few moments of stillness, you almost thought she had fallen back asleep. It wasn’t until you felt a light touch on your temple that you realized she was awake. The touch so light you nearly missed it when Abby brushed a small strand of hair away from your face.

Then slowly, Abby pried you off of her and you nearly let a small groan slip from your lips when you felt the absence of her warmth. She gently rolled you over, covering you with the blanket before walking into the bathroom.

That’s when it happened: the ache. A sharp, jarring ache in your heart that you only felt with her— that you haven’t felt since the two of you were best friends. It had left you when you and Abby stopped talking, but it returned just the same when you witnessed the tenderness of her actions. You never thought to put a name to this feeling (and maybe a part of you didn’t want to), but it was near impossible to ignore it.

You couldn’t possibly be harbouring secret feelings for Abby, right? You tried to distract yourself from these thoughts, it was way too early to be worrying about these things.

Feigning tiredness you rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. You knocked on the door and when Abby opened it you noticed she was in the process of redoing her braid.

You leaned against the doorway as you watched her skilled fingers work. “Abs?”

“Hm?” She replied as she tied off the end of her braid.

“I didn’t really mean what I said to you last night… about never wanting to see you again. I’m sorry.” You picked at your thumb anxiously, eyes wandering around the room, looking anywhere but at Abby.

Abby turned to face you, letting the braid fall to her side. “You don’t have to apologize Y/N, I deserve it. I didn’t even hesitate to leave you when Owen and I started dating, and I was-“

“Stupid?” You finished for her, looking up from the floor to meet Abby’s gaze.

“Stupid. And for what it's worth, I’ve really missed hanging out with you Y/N, even if it is under these circumstances.”

“You know… I think I know a way you can make it up to me, if you’re still up for it?” Abby looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you noticed the corner of her mouth curling into a small smile.

“Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“You see, there’s this guy that’s been trying to ask me out for weeks even though I keep rejecting him.” You gave Abby a tiny grin as you continued. “Well, maybe if he found out I was dating a certain soldier who could pound his ass into the ground, then he’d leave me alone.”

Abby nodded her head nonchalantly as she took a small step towards you, crossing her arms across her chest. “You know what’s crazy? I think I have just the person for you.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby tlou #requests #fluff #a little bit angsty #I’m big gay

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

More Than Enough | Owen & Charlie

Requested:  hi! can you do an imagine where the reader is like 16/17 and lives with owen and charlie and she finds out her boyfriend back home cheated on her? basically like owen and charlie are acting like big brothers.

A/N: This was too cute to pass up. I did alter it a tiny bit since I don’t think any parent would just send their seventeen year old to Vancouver. Hope you like it though! 

Pairing: Platonic!(Owen x Charlie x Reader)

Warnings: Explicit language, cheating, angst

Song(s) used:  none

Words: 2,523

Being a Gillespie has had many, many perks. Anyone in your family was always up for an adventure in the middle of the night or ready to jam out at any given moment. Family parties were never dull and the bonds unbreakable. 

Until you and your family suddenly moved to Vancouver when your mother found herself a new love and packed her bags within the first few weeks. Of course, only being thirteen at the time, you had no other choice but to go, though it broke your heart saying goodbye to the friends you made in New Brunswick and the close family you left behind. 

About four years later, you received a message from your very favorite cousin, Charlie. He’d been your best friend since you were born. Even though he was four years older than you, the two of you were two peas in a pod. He felt like a big brother to you as much as your actual brother did, if not more. And since you left Dieppe, Charlie had been texting you non-stop to make sure you were okay and adapting to your new surroundings. 

But the message you received in 2019 made your heart leap. 

Guess who’s coming to Vancouver for work? 

(It’s me!) 

You had chuckled at the second message, shaking your head at the fact that your favorite cousin hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you saw him. 

Charlie had told you he’d auditioned for this new Netflix show directed by the legend himself, Kenny Ortega. You were the biggest fan of the man, so you made sure you did all the superstitious things you could to make  sure he’d get the part. You had burnt dozens of candles, prayed every night and kept the lucky blue rabbit’s foot with you every day. Charlie had given you the blue rabbit’s foot the day you left for Vancouver, showing a matching one that he kept on a chain on his jeans. 

“This is gonna bring you luck, and if you ever miss me, just hold it tight and it’ll feel like I’m there with you,” he’d told you. 

When Charlie came to Vancouver, the two of you thought it’d be a good idea for you to move in with him and Owen, a member of the cast he’d become close friends with during the bootcamp they did that summer. 

Your mom wasn’t too sure about it at first, but eventually caved and let you go, thinking it might be good practice for when you’d go off to college. 

With all of that said and done, you were now a full-fledged member of the Gillespie-Joyner household. The first few weeks were the most fun. You’d stay up all night with the boys, dancing around the living room to whatever song came on or cuddled up on the couch watching movies. Every now and again, even your boyfriend came up to the apartment to hang out with the three of you. Though, the boys being the boys, became overprotective when that occurred.

The first night Thomas came over to hang out with you, Owen and Charlie immediately went into full-protective mode. They started interrogating the seventeen-year-old boy with questions you say an overprotective dad with a shotgun or baseball bat ask in those cliché rom-coms. 

“Can you guys not?!” you had asked, chuckling because you thought they were joking about it all. “Let’s just watch this stupid movie while we wait for our pizza.” 

During said movie, the two full-grown men kept glaring at the teenagers on the other end of the couch as you were cuddled up together, his arm slung over your shoulder. Charlie had that trademark scowl on his face with his arms crossed while Owen just furrowed his eyebrows, keeping an eye on the two of you. 

That occurred pretty much every night since that first day they met. And you could feel Thomas growing more and more fidgety next to you as the nights progressed.

One night when Thomas came over, the four of you decided to cook dinner together since you were pretty bored of constantly ordering food and eating unhealthy. You wanted to get some vegetables inside these boys.  

“Watch out, Gillespie, you’re gonna burn yourself,” Owen said to you when you were simply stirring the bolognese sauce you had made from scratch. That was something  your grandmother taught you when you were younger. You and Charlie used to cook with her all the time when having sleepovers at her place during nights your parents were out. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be fine, Joyner,” you muttered back, chuckling slightly. Just as the words rolled off your lips, the sauce sputtered and a droplet of hot sauce fell on your hand. You hissed at the burning sensation as you wiped the red off your hand. 

“See! I told you!” Owen exclaimed and grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the tap. 

“Owen, I’m fine! It was just a tiny drop. I’m not gonna die!” you protested but let him hold your hand underneath the cold running water. The coldness of the water made the burning and stinging feeling vanish and actually felt good. 

“You ought to be careful, Gillespie,” Owen muttered, his eyes focused on the water gliding down the back of your hand and down every fingertip in small streams while you watched him. You’d lived here for almost a month, and  you’d seen Owen from up close but never this close. 

There was something about his smooth jawline, bright green eyes and swoopy blonde hair that you hadn’t noticed before. All of a sudden, the boy you’d seen as a brother for a month now, turned attractive. Very attractive. 

No, y/n, focus. Your boyfriend is literally behind you. Calm down. You thought to yourself as you shook out of the trance you found yourself in.

But then Owen glanced up at you and the whole pep-talk went to waste. Especially as the corners of his mouth tugged up into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. 

You coughed before sputtering out, “T-thank you, Owen.”  He simply nodded acknowledgingly before turning the tap off and letting you go back to your food with your mind woozy and your heart beating faster. What in the holy hell was that? 

Thomas of course noticed the interaction between you and Owen as he was sitting on a stool at the breakfast island, scrolling through his phone with Charlie next to him. The latter had been weighing off the pasta to cook later and didn’t notice anything of what just happened. 

“I’m gonna head home,” Thomas said that night straight after dinner. Normally, he’d stay for one more movie before heading home, but after seeing what he saw earlier, he didn’t feel like staying much longer or ever coming back. 

You picked up the tone in his voice, and your stomach sank. Something had upset him and you could only guess what it was. Of course he saw. Everyone could probably see. Now it was up to you to show Thomas nothing was actually going on between you and Owen. 

“Oh--okay… I’ll see you out,” you said and got up from the chair, halting when Thomas held up his hand and shook his head dismissively. 

“I’ll see myself out,” he muttered and made his way out the door without even a goodbye, let alone a kiss goodbye. Your heart sank to your stomach as you felt the storm hanging above your head. This was not going to end well. 

“What was that about?” Charlie asked, confused about the boy’s demeanor all of a sudden. You glanced over at Owen, who had his lips pressed together, offering you an apologetic countenance. 

You sighed, dropping down in your chair again and rubbing your face with your hands, not even caring about the make-up you’re smudging right now. You were going to lose the best thing that has ever happened to you since moving to Vancouver, besides seeing Charlie again. And all because you couldn’t keep your eyes off an attractive man that stood a few inches too close. There was a storm ahead, and you weren’t prepared for it. 

Three days. You didn’t hear Thomas for three days. After sending text after text after text, he still ghosted you. You knew he was going to break up with you soon, but what came next was beyond your expectations. 

Your friend Lili called you on the fourth day of radio silence from Thomas. Her voice sounded solemn, almost worried. 

“What’s up?” you asked, growing more and more anxious. 

A shaky breath sounded from the other side of the line before she spoke again. “Allison told me Thomas showed up at her doorstep last night…” she started. Her voice cracked and so did your heart in anticipation of what was going to follow. “Sweetie, I’m sorry, Thomas cheated on you…” 

Tears sprung into your eyes as you grabbed the nearest pillow from the sofa and hugged it tightly to your chest while Lili blabbed on about what she’d heard from Allison. All you could pick up was that Allison felt terrible about it but couldn’t say no to him since he seemed in distress. Laced between her words were your venomous thoughts about how all of this was just your fault. If the thing-which-wasn’t-even-a-thing between you and Owen didn’t happen, Thomas wouldn’t have gone to another girl’s house. 

“I am so sorry, y/n. I--Tell me if there’s anything I can do? I’ll--I’ll come over with some ice cream or chocolate if  you want and you can just cry?” Lili probably knew you weren’t listening anymore. She was the first friend you had made in Vancouver four years ago, along with Allison. But apparently being friends gives you a get-out-of-jail card to fuck your friend’s boyfriend. 

“No, that’s okay, Lils. I just wanna be alone right now…” you whispered, and after you’d said your goodbyes you hung up the phone, dropping the device on the sofa next to you. Your arms tightened around the pillow as tears soaked the fabric and the toxic thoughts haunted your mind on repeat. 

The thoughts were so loud, you didn’t even hear the door to the apartment opening and closing. You only noticed someone had walked in when two pairs of arms snaked around your body from each side. 

Charlie piped up first, “What happened, cous?” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your hair as his fingers tangled up in your messy hair. 

“He-hecheatedonme,” you blurted out in one breath. Both Owen and Charlie halted their movement, glancing up at each to see if both of them heard the same thing. You felt someone shift beside you, the warm feeling of their body pressed to yours turning cold. 

“Where does he live?” Owen growled. You looked up at him and sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater. “Where does he live, y/n?” he repeated sternly. 

“No, Owen, please,” you begged, more tears rolling down your face, “Please, don’t. Stay with me. Please.” Owen’s tense expression softened as he slid down next to you again, the warmth returning to your body as he wrapped himself around you once more. 

“Just stay,” you whispered as your arms wrapped around Owen’s bicep and your head rested on Charlie’s chest. “It’s my own fault.” Neither of the boys say anything, but they let you babble for a while, holding you and rubbing your back or planting kisses on your head. 

Once you had calmed down a little, Charlie began his pep-talk, “None of this is your fault, little one,” he said. “I know something happened between you the last time you were here, but that doesn’t mean you drove him into another girl’s arms. He could’ve come over to talk it out, but instead, he chose to ring another’s doorbell. This is not your fault.” The last words came out just above a whisper before his lips crushed onto your head again. His hand smoothed down your hair, lulling you into a state of calm. 

“Char’s right, y/n,” Owen chimed in softly as his fingers trailed up and down her leg. “His decision to do this instead of talk to you is on him. He doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.” Your lips curled up into a small smile while a sob raked through your body, shaking both boys along. 

“I love you guys,” you mumbled as you felt your eyes drooping. Crying always made you feel sleepy, especially with the boys’ soothing touches and words. “So much.” And with that, your light went out for the next few hours. 

Owen and Charlie eventually fell asleep too as they didn’t want to let you go, and that’s what you woke up to in the middle of the night too. The two boys asleep on either side of you, clutching you in their arms. Though Owen had sunk down with his head in your lap and him clutching your arm against his chest, Charlie had fallen asleep resting his head on yours. A content, warm feeling fell over you while that upsetting, past-breakdown sob shook through your body. 

“Boys,” you whispered, waking them up softly. Both twitched, but only Owen shook awake and shot upright. You giggled at his concerned, sleep-drunk expression. “Shall we head to bed?” you asked. The look of confusion that flashed across Owen’s face made you realize that it did sound a bit odd, so you quickly added, “It’s past midnight, I think we better sleep in our own beds than cramped up on the sofa.” 

Owen let out an “ah” and nodded his head before punching Charlie in the shoulder. Your cousin looked up with narrowed  eyes, ready to growl at whoever woke  him. 

“Let’s get to bed,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The boy nodded and got up, grabbing your hand in his and leading you towards your bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights, but blindly made his way over to the bed and rolled onto it, tugging you with him and cuddling you close to his body. You let out a shriek at the sudden movement until it turned into giggling before sighing contently at the welcome warmth and comfort of your cousin’s arms. There’ve been many nights where you fell asleep cuddling one another on your grandmother’s sofa after having watched your favorite tv-show.   

“Joyner, get your ass in here!” Charlie shouted, his voice croaky and thick with sleep. You heard shuffling before the bed dipped, the warmth of Owen’s body radiating into your skin. 

This hadn’t occurred yet since you moved in with them a month ago. Falling asleep on the couch, yes, all the time. But never falling asleep in the same bed. It was a welcome, soothing feeling though. No matter how you turned, every side of your body was always toasty. You were the happiest person alive even on darker days like this one. You’d always have these two boys in your life. And that was more than enough for you.

*

*

*

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost 

Charlie/Luke Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #alex jatp #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fic #platonic!reader x charlie #platonic!reader #owen x reader #owen joyner fic #platonic!reader x owen #platonic!charlie x owen #platonic!charlie x owen x reader

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

You know how we have pet costumes? Give Jacob one, make him a cute space cowboy😈😈😈

WE'RE BACK BABY

Please enjoy this little ficlet (that was actually my 3rd attempt to write a fluffy ficlet for this universe because all the other ones kept becoming future chapters lmao)

--

“This is humiliating. I look like sheriff Woody or something.”

“Aw, I was thinking more like John Wayne Gacy, you know?”

“The...the clown serial killer…?”

Angie pursed her lips. “Wait, who was the cowboy guy in all the old movies? Like, before Clint Eastwood and whatever.”

“That’s John Wayne. Not John Wayne Gacy,” Jacob tugged at the sleeves of his costume and readjusted his cowhide vest. “And I don’t feel anywhere near as cool as him right now.”

She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose. “That’s because you’re not cool. You’re a grown man playing dress up with a kindergartener.”

“So are you.”

Angie straightened her Native American headpiece and threw one of her braided pigtails behind her. “Yeah, but I know it’s stupid, so therefore I’m doing it ironically which makes me cool.”

Jacob sighed heavily but didn’t argue further, instead tugging his cowboy hat down further to shield his face that burned with embarrassment. Being forced into having playdates with his captor’s coworker was nothing new. He had spent plenty of time being Mibao’s sole playmate aboard the ship, doing the best he could to keep the six year girl entertained and not too psychologically damaged. Being the youngest in a sibling group of only boys, he was a bit rusty when it came to knowing anything about kids. Thankfully, Mibao was more than happy to take him by the hand and show up all the “fun” things she used to either do back home or what she would now do with her “kitty”.

Today’s game of choice was dress up. Every day felt like dress up when it came to the girl’s ever expanding wardrobe; she was always dressed in an obnoxiously puffy and sparkling princess dress fashioned with ribbons and bows galore and always with a matching crown. Fine, no big deal, he could slap a tiara on his head and call it a day, he’d worn worse at the few fraternity parties he attended during college. Nope, not good enough. Mibao had a very specific game she wanted to play which involved him wearing a cowboy costume of all things. A very realistic and detailed cowboy costume, assless chaps and spurs and all. Again, he could...handle it for the most part. The only thing that really bothered him about it was all the coos and giggles he received from both his and Mibao’s captors when he finally came out in his new outfit.

And he knew for a fact they took many, many pictures of him.

It didn’t end there, Mibao still had more requests. Angie needed to join in as well and she was required to be an “indian princess” to partake. Naturally, she was more than happy to agree if it meant getting a break from the absolute nightmare of a captor she had been saddled with. So, now Jacob had to deal with the fact that she would have to watch him play pretend in this ridiculous getup. He could never catch a break with her, it seemed, she always had to catch him when he was in the middle of doing something cringe worthy. She didn’t even look half as uncomfortable as him and she was literally wearing half as much clothing.

Or maybe that was exactly why she was so comfortable as she sauntered up to him, making a finger pistol to tip his hat away from his face. “Cheer up, partner,” she teased. “I think it makes you look cute.”

“I think it makes me look like Owen Wilson from the museum movie,” Jacob replied, hoping the shadow of the brim hid his reddening cheeks.

“Oh my God, you are a tiny little twink cowboy, huh?”

“I’d rather be the gladiator guy.”

“You wish you could pull off being the gladiator guy.”

A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue when Mibao made her appearance from behind the monitor where she had been changing. This time instead of her usual princess attire, she was dressed...pretty much the same, only this time she had a tiny pair or iridescent fairy wings attached to the back. What a fairy had to do with cowboys and indians, he hadn’t the faintest idea. She stopped when she saw the two of them and stuck out her tongue in childish disgust.

“Eww, stop kissing!” She scolded. “You can kiss the princess later, Jake, it’s time to play!”

Jacob had never been more grateful in his life that the creatures idly watching them couldn’t understand English because he just might have died if they heard. He could feel the heat radiating from his nape to his cheeks, putting his hands up in defense like it could keep Angie away from him.

“Wh-no! We weren’t, we weren’t kissing, Reagan, w-we-!”

Angie only cackled, her amusement stemming more from Jacob’s panicked response than the actual accusation of giving him a kiss. “Yeah, cowboy, you can kiss me later.” She winked and nudged him with her elbow as she walked past to where Mibao was waiting.

He groaned, tugging the hat down as far as it would go even if that meant obscuring his vision somewhat. That was totally fine, he didn’t want to look at anyone right now and he did not want to be perceived either. The child was leading them back over to her designated play area scattered with art supplies and stuffed toys for where they’ll play their game of make believe. Angie was already sitting on her knees by the time he shuffled over and beckoned him with a sly smile to come take a seat on the ground next to her. Jacob obliged, but refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing his beet red face.

As soon as they were settled, Mibao immediately launched into the exposition of the scene they would be putting on, including their roles and superpowers (that only she had because she was a magical fairy queen). Jacob was only half listening; the kid usually forgot half of her own rules in the middle of playing anyways because she wanted to change the story and it wasn’t that hard to follow her game of make believe. Instead, he kept side-eying Angie, who was side-eying him back, and every time they made eye contact she would smile and bump his shoulder with hers.

This was going to be a long playdate.

--

The lab door slid open as Talan walked in, peeling off his bloodied gloves to dispose of them in Ylva’s waste bin. “I need my human back.”

“Aw, why? They’re all having a ball together!” Ylva frowned, gesturing to the miniature trio on her desk. Well, the smallest one and Talan’s pet seemed like they were having a good time, namely at the expense of the other human in a hat. They all seemed to stop at the interruption, his human fixing him with a sneer that he was tempted to match.

“What the fuck is it wearing?” He asked, ignoring all the little protests he got when he grabbed it and plucked the stupid looking feather thing of its head. “I thought you said it’s not nice to torment the humans.”

Edix scoffed at him, though his annoyance was more from Talan being in his general vicinity than anything. “It’s not torment. They were having fun.”

Talan did not look convinced in the slightest, his eyes sweeping over the pup who was pouting at him for taking away its playmate and the other who froze any time he breathed in its direction. Like owner, like pet, he assumed as it seemed to unconsciously inch closer to where Edix’s hand was resting for a better sense of security. Pathetic. At least his pet had a bit more self respect and wasn’t afraid to try and stab him in the hand with his own tools. Of course, it got a sharp flick to the stomach to knock it off, but he could appreciate the gumption.

Talan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, looks like a real party. So sad to have missed it.”

“Like you’ve ever been to a party to know what it looks like.”

“Says the one that only hangs out with plants.”

“Okay,” Ylva interjected, rising from her chair and scooping up her adorable little human. “You’re right, we should probably wrap this up, Mibao’s going to need a nap soon and she likes to fight her naps when she’s excited.”

That was all the excuse Talan needed to dip out without a formal goodbye, though it didn’t escape the corner of his eye how Edix’s human took a half step forward when he left, almost like it wanted to say something. Even if it did, he wouldn’t have cared. As quickly as he had intruded, Talan disappeared back down the main hall of the fauna department to return to his lab.

Edix stood up as well and tucked the data pad he had been keeping busy with under his arm to keep his hands free. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much closer his little pet was standing to him, even if it wasn’t by much, even though it was caused by Talan of all bastards. A win was a win in his book. The hand the human had been partly hiding behind curled easily around it to lift it up, immediately cradling it to his chest as usual. It squirmed for a moment but settled quick enough, a clear sign it was also ready to go back to the lab it was accustomed to. For a social species, the little one always seemed so drained after any playdate Ylva arranged for their pets. Fine by him, it usually meant his human was much more quiet and well behaved once it was back in the solitude of Edix’s company, making for an easier work day.

He used his finger to tilt back the wide brimmed hat it had been using to hide its sweet little face a majority of the playdate, earning him a surprised squeak. With the way its baby cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink, Edix had a fairly good guess as to why it was trying to avoid everyone’s line of sight. Damn, he should have had Ylva take more pictures, this was way too cute for him. It reached up to quickly pull its shield back down and Edix let it with a laugh, cooing as he tugged at its little vest instead which only made it wriggle in distress. Overdramatic little thing.

“Can I keep this costume?” He asked as he followed behind Ylva who was preparing to put her own pup down for a nap. In reality, it meant she was going to have to play with it for at least another half an hour because, much like him, she was a sucker when it came to her human wanting to play. The difference being that Mibao wanted to do anything from coloring to singing to continuing its game of make believe while Edix’s pet always wanted to play chase.

Ylva smiled and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it’s not like it’s going to fit the baby. It was printed for its measurements specifically, anyways.” Mibao was proving to be difficult in its refusal to relinquish the shiny wings Ylva had designed at its request, something that Ylva quickly made a game out of by setting her pup on the desk and letting it squeal and run while her hands chased after it. That would tire the kid out in no time. She looked back at his human and giggled. “I don’t think it likes it very much, though.”

Oh yeah, that was obvious from the get go, but it didn’t change the fact that it was way too precious for its own good in this type of outfit. Edix actually quite liked the contrast of the dark brown against its pale skin, even more given the fact that it matched the color of its doe eyes perfectly. It was much more appealing than that splotchy green jacket it was inexplicably attached to. He had a feeling it was going to try and strip out of this outfit as soon as it was back in Edix’s lab, provided he gave it its normal suit and jacket to change into. But...maybe he didn’t have to offer it its spare set of clothes right away. Maybe it would just have to hang around in its little boots and hat for a couple hours longer while he finished up his latest report that was just so important to get done. And maybe he would get constantly distracted by how cute it looked while it was definitely pouting at him for not taking off its costume that it took a little longer than usual to finish his work, which meant it spent even longer pouting under its hat.

Decisions, decisions.

Edix waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll learn to love it.”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be mean to it,” Ylva laughed, not that seemed bothered by the idea of his pet keeping the outfit on for an extended period of time beyond the playdate. “But send pictures if you do.”

#ask #anon #my writing #g/t writing #g/t fluff #g/t ocs #g/t #giant/tiny #gianttiny #macro/micro #gt #please enjoy ficlet mommy buy for u #ive missed them so much #now we just gotta finish chapter 3 and we're really rockin n rollin #also yes angie likes teasing jacob for obviously having a crush on her #and ALSO YES i forgot angie has short hair so we're gonna pretend its because shes been in captivity for so long that it just grew out #and thats how she could braid it #talan simps rejoice for he is here #unfortunately

[darthkruge]

Hello! I'm kinda new to the whole tumblr thing so sorry if this request is bad but I was wondering if maybe you could do an imagine for spencer reid where the reader is Garcia's younger sister and Garcia brings her in to meet the team because it's her first day there. Maybe Reid recognizes her from somewhere and he will not leet it go until he finds out how he knows her? Btw it's totally fine if you don't get to this! :)

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Piano

Summary: When a new agent joins the BAU, Spencer knows he’s seen them before but literally cannot figure out where. His memory having never failed him before, he doesn’t rest until he figures it out.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral! Reader; Penelope Garcia x Sibling! Reader

Words: 1973

Warnings: A little bit of language, I think that’s all?

A/N: Hey anon!! First off, don’t worry, love! I’m honestly new to this whole tumblr thing too, but I loved this request! I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner, life’s been a bit hectic. I made it so the reader is Garcia’s younger sibling instead of sister, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to try to make writing as gender neutral as possible moving forward. Nothing against you, of course, I know I haven’t specified in past requests and I couldn’t have expected you to know, so don’t worry! That being said, sorry for rambling and I hope you like it :)

(gif isn’t mine)

“Hello, everyone! I want you to meet the youngest of the wonderful Garcia children!” Penelope led you into the BAU where you waved a bit stiffly. You weren’t a huge fan of being the center of attention, but you knew your sister loved these introductions.

Looking around, you pieced together the people you knew from Penelope’s stories. You recognized Derek immediately. You assumed from his professional stance that the taller and older dark haired man was Hotch. Logically, that meant Rossi was next to him. And Emily and JJ were the two women, smiling and waving at you encouragingly. You smiled a bit broader, immediately sensing you would be fast friends with them. Finally, your eyes landed on what had to be Spencer. You thought he was quite attractive and, from Penelope’s descriptions, he was also amazing, talented, kind, smart, basically everything you liked. You waved at him but noticed he was almost studying you? You weren’t sure, but felt a bit awkward, confused as to why he seemed friendly to everyone else but wouldn’t even smile at you.

“Umm, hi!” You said, laughing nervously and kind of hoping to disappear. Hotch sensed your discomfort and offered you a kind smile before putting you out of your misery.

“Welcome to the team, L/N. Garcia’s told us wonderful things about you. That being said, we’re just closing up tonight, so you could finish up your paperwork finalizing your transfer into the BAU if you haven’t already and then come in for your first day tomorrow?”

“Okay, thank you, Sir.”

“Goodnight, team”

Everyone echoed the “Goodnight” before filing out of the room. You got into the car with your sister and pulled out of the BAU, reflecting on your past and thinking about the next chapter of your life.

After almost everyone else had left, Spencer was still at his desk, thinking. The certified genius, was, for once, completely at a loss. He couldn’t figure it out. Where had he seen you before? He was currently in the process of mapping out every place he’d gone to over the last few months. Every restaurant, every film festival, every face he saw in passing at crosswalks, through car windows, at coffee stands, and, still, nothing.

“Woah, Pretty Boy, slow down! What’s got you so riled up?” Derek says, walking over to where Spencer was hunched over his notebook, furiously writing.

“I can’t figure it out, I know we’ve met before or I’ve seen them before or something. I just,” Spencer put his head in his hands, eyes starting to burn a bit from the strain of writing and concentrating for so long, “I just know it”

“Seen who before?”

“Y/N, the new agent. They’re so familiar, but for some reason I just can’t figure it out”

“Ohh! Garcia’s their sister, right?”

Spencer nodded and Derek came behind him, seeing the messy timeline and pages of notes scattered around the agent.

“Are you sure you’ve seen them? I mean, we see lots of people on the job. You could have just seen someone who looked like them, you know? And come on, Reid, your memory is, like, insane . If you’d met, you’d have remembered”

“I know, that’s what’s got me so messed up.” Spencer sighed.

“Take a rest, kid. It’s late, get back to it tomorrow. Maybe they’ll visit you in your dreams…” Derek said, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he walked away.

Spencer laughed, hoping Derek was right. He’d do anything to get more time with you, even if it was in his subconscious. Honestly, he felt a bit bad. He’d been so caught up in figuring how he knew you that he’d kind of forgotten to actually talk to you. Normally, he’d have caught a new recruit before they left, but he didn’t get the chance with you. After packing up, Spencer went home and continued his search with you on the forefront of his mind.

Meanwhile, you had just gotten back to your sister’s apartment. You had your own place but you were new to the team and felt a bit lonely. Mentally, you didn’t want to be alone at home, too.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up with Reid?” You asked. You were confused, you knew he was quiet but he seemed to be actively ignoring you. Even stranger, you caught him intensely staring at you, as if he was trying to figure something out.

“He’s just shy, Y/N. But he’ll warm up to you, don’t worry! Honestly, I think the both of you would be a pretty good match. If you want, I can do some of my famous matchmaking!”

“Please, noooooo,” You groaned, dragging out the word.

“Come on! I’m great at it!”

“No! Remember last time? I ended up on a blind date with a guy who, within the first three minutes, told me he liked me because he saw similarities between me and his parents!! Then, he proceeded to detail their divorce for the next 45 minutes!”

Penelope was laughing hysterically, “I mean, you did say you liked emotionally available people!”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head, dying in your own fit of laughter.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m going to bed. I can’t be conscious in the same house as you anymore” You say, smiling and jokingly flipping your sister off as you walk away and into the guest room.

Naturally, she returned the gesture.

When Spencer arrived at work the next morning, his eyes were bloodshot, hair was sticking up in a million different directions, and clothes were exceptionally disheveled. Anyone else and you would have thought they had a really bad (or great) one-night stand. Although you weren’t close with him, you just didn’t see him being that type of guy. You laughed a bit as he grimaced, taking a sip of what looked like extremely bitter coffee.

Deciding to try and break the ice, you went over to him. “Long night?”

Spencer’s head shot up. “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that” He said, laughing a bit.

You smiled. Even though he was awkward, you felt at ease in his company. “I get that, I’ve had a few long nights myself. I love the job, don’t get me wrong, but the way the BAU runs is different from anything else I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Yeah. It can be a bit of an adjustment, but you’ll be fine. You’re doing great. I mean, you arrived early, so I can already assume you’re organized. And your desk is a little messy, leading me to believe you’re a creative person. Your handwriting is quite slanted, too. I recognized it from your entry forms. Did you know that’s a sign of high intelligence? Because your thoughts are moving so quickly, your hand can’t keep up in the “perfect” way, so the letters normally slant and become more sloppy.”

You were mesmerized by him. You could watch him talk for hours, truly. Sure, he wasn’t always graceful, but he was so passionate about everything he talked about. You loved listening to people talk about what they love. The way their eyes light up, it makes the energy surrounding them contagious.

Realizing he had just psychoanalyzed you without permission, Spencer looked at your sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to profile you. It’s sometimes hard to shut off, especially around new people.”

“I get that. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You said, nodding knowingly.

As you said that, Spencer figured it out. He remembered one time visiting his mother in Vegas and hearing you say those exact words. You were playing the piano, talking to a patient who had just accidentally spilled some water on your sheet music as they took their medicine. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I was in need of new music, anyway” You had responded, laughing. He was surprised he didn’t immediately recognize you, the beautiful and talented person he’d seen that day. But, it did make sense, in a way. Spencer’s memory is always at its highest and weakest when he’s with his mother. He can remember each of their conversations, verbatim, but everything else fades.

“Spencer? You alright?” He had been kind of spacing out for a few moments and you were afraid you did something wrong.

His attention came back to you and he smiled again, brighter this time. “You play piano.” He stated.

Your breath caught and you let out a small laugh, extremely confused. “Uhh, yeah, I do. I’m sure you’re great, but that seems extreme even for you, Mr. Profiler”

Spencer laughed. “No! I didn’t profile you, I just, I remember you. Las Vegas, March 12th, Psychiatric Hospital, you were playing piano. A patient spilled water on you. I remember you.”

“Oh, right! Ms. Owens! She’s lovely. You were there that day? Well, either that or you just gave yourself up as a damn good stalker”

“No, no, not that,” He said, a shy smile playing on his lips, “My mother’s a patient there, Diana Reid? I’m not sure if you know her.”

“Yeah! She’s quite a character. I always enjoyed playing on days Diana was there.” You reminisced for a second, lost in the memory.

“Were you visiting someone there, too?” He said, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Not exactly. My grandfather was a patient before he passed. He taught me how to play and I kind of just asked the staff if I could volunteer and continue to after he left. They were kind enough to let me. I mean, he always encouraged me to perform and I thought it was a nice way to honor his memory. A few months later I heard from Penelope that there was an opening at the BAU. I moved out, and, well, here I am.” You gestured to yourself, slightly embarrassed after you realized you might have overshared.

Spencer caught onto this, however, and quickly reassured you. “That’s amazing, Y/N. You were amazing when I heard you. I wish I could have heard you play again.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet, Spencer.” You said, resting your hand atop his, a blush forming in his cheeks at the touch.

“Um, if you don’t have plans. I mean, not to assume you don’t have plans, just if you, you know, happen to not be busy, would you want to maybe get dinner sometime? You don’t have to, of course! I wouldn’t be offended! I just kind of want to get to know you more. If that’s alright with you.” He trailed off, not making eye contact and playing with the buttons on his shirt a bit as he awaited your answer.

Deciding to be bold, you gently turned his face to meet yours and smiled. “I would love to. Tomorrow, pick me up at 8:00?”

“Yeah! Here’s my number, text me your address?”

You smiled and nodded, taking his phone. He took the moment to just look at you. You were truly one of the most breathtaking people he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe he’d just gotten you to agree to go out with him. Even so, he wouldn’t question it. If something in the universe gave this to him, he wouldn’t risk it for a second.

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek as you slipped the phone back into his hand. As you pulled away, Spencer cupped your cheek and pulled you back in for a kiss. His lips tasted sweet and soft and a sense of serenity washed over you as you stood in the middle of the BAU, kissing him. Everything faded away and quickly came into focus again as he pulled away, far too soon for your liking.

“More of that tomorrow” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, “That’s fine by me.”

~requests are open~

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[chicgeekgirl89]

Home is Us

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Owen Strand, Judd Ryder, Tommy Vega, Mateo Chavez

Summary: In the aftermath of the condo fire, Carlos and T.K. seek comfort in one another. Post ep for 2x12 "The Big Heat."

A/N: This is my rather belated post ep for 2x12. And it would not have happened without @bluenet13. Literally. I agonized over this SO MUCH and she listened to all my whining and didn't let me cut the part about Marlon Blendo so I owe her everything.

AO3

The night air was cool and still, the stars sparkling brightly in the sky, but the stench of smoke obliterated any sense of peace or calm. T.K. could feel Carlos’ hand gripping his shoulder with bruising force as they burst out the front doors and onto the lawn, both of them gasping and coughing.

Tommy came running toward them. “Are you all right?” she asked urgently, eyes and hands searching for damage. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m, I’m okay,” T.K. choked out. “Carlos?”

He shook his head, coughing violently. “I’m fine too.”

“T.K.!”

His dad came charging toward him, wrapping him up a fierce hug. “Oh my god,” he breathed into T.K.’s hair and then his other arm was pulling Carlos in too, squeezing them both with every bit of strength he had. “Are you boys all right?”

“We’re good, Dad,” T.K. said, even though he was shaking violently, adrenaline coursing through his veins so fast he felt lightheaded. “What the hell? How did you guys even know we were in trouble?”

“Raymond said something earlier today and I just put the pieces together,” Owen said. “I’m so sorry, I should have figured it out sooner.”

There were sirens screaming up now, ambulances and firetrucks, and Tommy put a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Okay, there will be time to talk about this later. Right now all of you need to get checked out by the paramedics. No objections,” she said quickly when several mouths opened to protest. “A little oxygen never hurt anybody. Come on now.”

T.K. moved follow her and then realized Carlos wasn’t behind him. He turned to find his boyfriend still rooted to the spot, staring straight ahead at the burning building. “Babe?” T.K. reached for his arm.

Carlos startled at his touch and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He was quiet as they sat on the back of the ambulance, answering questions with yes or no answers, eyes and body listless as they checked him over for injuries. T.K. had never seen his boyfriend look so small. 

They were both given oxygen and then Tommy reappeared, blankets in hand that she wrapped comfortingly around their shoulders, her mom tendencies coming out in full force. “Is everyone else all right?” T.K. asked, pushing his mask to the side.

“They’ve all got some first and second degree burns, but they’ll heal up all right. How are you two doing?”

“It could have been a lot worse,” T.K. said. 

“Carlos?” Tommy asked, her eyes softening and taking on a new level of concern.

He met her eyes and nodded. “I’m okay.”

She looked at him a moment longer and then reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to go check on the guys. You two stay right here and do as you’re told, got it?”

It wasn’t long before the paramedics released them with instructions to take it easy, stay hydrated, and head to the emergency room if they experienced any concerning symptoms. T.K. was still in disbelief that they’d escaped so unharmed. It was nothing short of miraculous, if you believed in that kind of thing.

Carlos spoke as they walked away from the ambulance, his voice quiet. “I should uh, I should call my parents,” he said.

“Do you want me to do it?” T.K. asked.

Carlos shook his head, already pulling out his phone. “No. No it’s um, they should hear it from me.”

He dialed, taking a shaky breath as he waited for someone to pick up. “Hey Dad.”

The conversation was painful, even from T.K.’s end. He couldn’t make out Gabriel’s words through the phone, but he could hear the unbridled fear in his voice. Carlos on the other hand sounded almost monotone, relaying the story and pertinent information in painfully exact detail, but without an ounce of emotion behind it, slipping back and forth between English and Spanish as he explained.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so upset before,” Carlos said, when he hung up.

“Yeah.” T.K. looked at his boyfriend who seemed to be refusing to look back. “Carlos? How are you doing?” he finally asked. 

“I’m good,” Carlos said, eyes darting toward him and then away. It was clearly a brush off and they both knew it. So T.K. waited.

And then he watched as his boyfriend broke in front of him, anguish and fear spilling out like a wave until they were both clinging to one another as Carlos’ quiet sobs wracked his frame over and over again.

“Shh,” T.K. soothed, struggling to provide some kind of real comfort when he felt so raw himself. “Breathe. We’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“I should have known, I should have made the alarm company come out today.”

“Carlos listen to me, none of this is your fault.” T.K. pulled him in tighter, desperate to do something to ease his pain.

“If I had just looked around, if we had waited ten more minutes to go upstairs—“

“We had no way of knowing.”

Carlos pulled back, still shaky. “You can’t really believe that. There’s always something. I should have done better.”

T.K. cupped his face in his hands. “Baby why are you beating yourself up over this so much?”

“Because I’m supposed to protect you!” Carlos said, the words coming out on a ragged sob. “That’s my job. To keep people safe. And when it came down to it I couldn’t protect you. The person I care about most in this world I couldn’t—”

T.K. used his thumbs to wipe away some of Carlos’ tears, clearing his throat, trying to keep his own tears at bay. “Listen to me. We’re a team, remember? We protect each other. You and me. Not just you.”

Carlos shook his head, face still contorted in misery. T.K. pulled him back in again and pressed a kiss to his hair. “It’s okay to be upset. But you cannot blame yourself for this. This was not your fault, do you hear me?”

Carlos nodded against his shoulder, but T.K. wasn’t completely convinced his words had gotten through.

Carlos took a shuddering breath and stepped away, wiping at his eyes and T.K. watched the wall go back up; the one Carlos had carefully constructed around him that meant he was always completely even-tempered and never out of control. “We should uh, we should go check on your dad and everybody. Tell them thank you.”

“Yeah, sure,” T.K. said, feeling like he probably should be saying something more, but unable to find the words.

Carlos was already moving toward the group gathered at the back of the ambulance and T.K. had no choice but to follow him. “You guys all right?” T.K. asked as Judd pulled him in for a side hug.

“We’re just glad you’re both okay,” Judd told him. “Everything check out with the paramedics?”

“We both ate a little bit of smoke, but we’re okay,” T.K. said. “Honestly though,” he swallowed hard, “we probably wouldn’t be here without you guys. So thank you.”

“You’re just lucky your dad drives so fast. I didn’t know he had it in him, what with him being such a city slicker,” Billy said with a chuckle.

“My driving is impeccable and I always drive the exact speed limit. Except in emergency situations,” Owen said, casting a look at Carlos.

Carlos managed to scrounge up half a smile but didn’t say anything.

A truck came screeching to a stop just behind the ambulance and Gabriel Reyes jumped out. The man looked truly shaken, eyes wild as he ran toward them. “Carlos! Mijo are you all right?”

“I’m okay Dad,” Carlos told him as they hugged.

“Gracias a Dios. You’re all okay?” Gabriel asked, looking around the group.

“We got out just in time,” Owen said. “Minor injuries only.”

“Which is more than we can say for the condo,” Judd said. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more Carlos, he had that place rigged up good.”

Carlos shook his head. “You did everything you could and we’re…” he swallowed hard and T.K. could tell he was blinking back more tears, “we’re very grateful.”

“Have they taken your statements yet?” Gabriel asked. 

“Yeah, about half an hour ago,” T.K. said. Officers had come around while they were still sitting at the back of the ambulance and written down what little they knew. Nothing like telling complete strangers that you hadn’t realized your house was burning down around you because you were upstairs having sex with your boyfriend. 

“Then there’s no reason you need to be standing around here,” Gabriel said. “You know the ranch is open to you both. Your mother is worried sick, she would be very happy to have you.” He turned to look at Owen. “But perhaps you would rather be closer to work? The ranch is a bit of a drive.”

“Well of course you’re welcome to stay at my place,” Owen said. “There’s plenty of space and Buttercup would love to have you around. But I’m sure Andrea wants you close to her.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I think they’re better off here in town. Andrea will understand. There will be a lot of paperwork to deal with in the coming days, they need to be readily available.”

“Well of course, but I’m not sure how much I can provide in the way of hospitality right now. The investigators didn’t really clean things up when they left,” Owen said meaningfully.

“Not a problem,” Gabriel said, taking out his phone. “I can have a crew there in the morning. It should never have taken this long in the first place. You know sometimes they drag their feet on these things.”

“Oh it’s no problem,” Owen said, waving him off. “Worth it in the end.” 

The dads debated a while longer before they decided an exhausted T.K. and Carlos would stay with Owen for the time being to be closer to work and to their former condo for whatever overhaul was necessary. By that point neither of them really cared where they ended up as long as there was a shower and a bed waiting for them. 

Owen elected to stay at the scene with Gabriel so Judd drove Carlos and T.K. home. Neither of them said much, still in a state of shock and Judd was mindful enough not to try and fill the truck with conversation.

The house was dark, Mateo asleep for the night. Buttercup looked up as they came in and gave half a tail wag before settling back down again.

“I think I left a couple sweatshirts and pairs of pants here,” T.K. said, searching through the drawers in his dad’s guest room. 

“Mmhmm,” Carlos said. He’d sunk onto the end of the bed and was staring blankly at the wall. 

“Hey,” T.K. stopped his search and went to him, cupping his face in his hands. “Why don’t you go get in the shower? I’ll find us something to change into and bring it to you.”

Carlos nodded tiredly and disappeared down the hall. T.K. stood for a moment chewing on his lip. He felt lost, adrift, trying to process and deal with his own feelings of grief and stomach churning worry, and Carlos seemed miles away. T.K. didn’t know what to do except to try and meet his physical needs.

He managed to scrounge up a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he thought would do the job. They might be a little tight, but at least Carlos wouldn’t be sleeping in the stench of his smoky clothes.

T.K. knocked softly on the bathroom door before stepping inside and putting the clothes on the counter. “You all right?” he asked.

Carlos sniffed and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

T.K. gathered up Carlos’ soiled clothes from the floor and dumped them into the washer, intending to add his after he had his own shower. He heard the water turn off and a minute later the bathroom door opened. “I’m done,” Carlos called softly down the hall.

“I’ll be quick,” T.K. said, switching places with him. 

The water felt good and he watched as soot and sweat and ash slithered down the drain. He took longer than he meant to, almost lulled to sleep by the soothing pound of the water against his back. Eventually it grew cool and he turned it off, stepping out to try and squeeze into a pair of sweatpants that belonged to his dad and a t-shirt he didn’t recognize but had found in the clean laundry.

T.K. left the bathroom still toweling off his hair. He crept quietly toward the guest room; Buttercup didn’t even move as he stepped over him in the hallway. Opening the door he winced when it squeaked, fully expecting to find Carlos completely sacked out in the bed, more than ready to join his boyfriend in blissful sleep.

Instead he found the room empty and a spiral of fear shot through him so fast it took his breath away. “Carlos?” he whispered, as if the man would suddenly materialize from a dark corner or the tiny closet. 

When there was no answer he turned and went back the way he’d come, stepping over Buttercup again, searching the kitchen and the living room before he made his way to the back patio. “Hey,” he said softly when he spotted Carlos sitting on the edge of the outdoor sofa.

Carlos didn’t respond and T.K. felt his worry grow heavier. “Carlos?”

His boyfriend’s shoulders hitched slightly and T.K. walked around the patio furniture to find him hunched over, tears streaming down his face. “Oh baby,” T.K. said, dropping to his knees, hands frantically reaching for him. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said hoarsely. “I just…I can’t…I’m trying to pull it together but—”

T.K. slipped onto the couch next to him and pulled him into his arms. “You don’t have to be okay,” he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion. “No one expects that of you.”

Carlos’ voice was hoarse and broken. “I’ve never needed saving before. Not like that.”

“Most people don’t,” T.K. said.

Carlos looked at him, eyes red and swollen. “You were amazing in there. I was…I was panicking and you knew exactly what to do.”

“You’re a police officer,” T.K. said, resting his head on top of Carlos’. “I wouldn’t expect you to know what to do in a five alarm fire. Just like you wouldn’t expect me to know what to do in a shootout.”

Carlos sighed and leaned into him. T.K. bent over and kissed his forehead. “We should try and get some sleep.”

Carlos shook his head again. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I just keep thinking about it over and over again. I’m sorry I’m such a mess—“

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. Everything you’re feeling is totally normal.”

Carlos swallowed hard. “I know it was just a house. But it was mine. It was the first place I felt like I could be myself. And then you came and it was our home and I—“ Carlos bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s all gone.”

“But I’m not,” T.K. said twining their hands together. “I’m right here. You’ve got me. And I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together. Home is us.” He stroked his thumb up and down on Carlos’ shoulder.

His face sobered as he took a really good, long look at Carlos. Exhaustion and fear still radiated off of him. He looked defeated. Empty. “Let’s at least try to get some sleep,” T.K. said softly, brushing a still-damp, curl from Carlos’ forehead. “We’ll figure things out in the morning.”

He pulled Carlos to his feet and they walked hand in hand back to the guest room. Carlos looked at the clock as he got into bed and groaned. “I have a shift in five hours.”

“You’re not going to work today.” T.K. told him. “They’ll understand.”

Carlos slid down the bed onto his side, leaning up on his elbow, his free hand finding a home on T.K.’s hip. “I meant what I said before. You were incredible tonight T.K. You saved us.”

“I’m pretty sure my dad, Billy, and Judd saved us,” T.K. told him.

Carlos shook his head. “I’m serious. If you hadn’t been there—“

“But I was,” T.K. said firmly. “I was and we’re fine. We’re…going to be fine,” he amended, because god knew there was nothing fine about them right now.

Carlos was quiet for a moment and then laid down all the way so they were face to face. T.K. shifted so they were even closer, needing to feel the warmth of Carlos against his own body. “I don’t think I can sleep,” Carlos said.

“Then we’ll just lie here together,” T.K. told him softly. 

They locked eyes, both of them breathing together in the silence, just being together, holding on a little tighter than normal. “I can’t stop seeing it,” Carlos finally whispered. “I was so scared T.K. What if I’d lost you?”

“You didn’t,” T.K. said softly. He leaned in and pressed a tender, reassuring kiss to Carlos’ lips. Carlos didn’t respond so T.K. nudged him gently with his nose and then kissed him again.

It was slow at first, Carlos still drowning so deeply in loss and anxiety, but as T.K. continued to silently encourage him he began to reciprocate. First just one kiss, and then another, this one a little deeper, until they were completely pressed up against each other, hands searching for bare skin, shared breath moving between parted lips. 

Things grew heated and T.K. could feel the increasing desperation in Carlos’ kisses so he smoothed a hand soothingly down his spine, pulling back from him just a little bit, forcing him to slow down. “It’s okay,” he murmured as their lips broke apart and came back together. “I’m right here.”

Carlos responded by matching T.K.’s slower kisses, following him rather than leading.

T.K. reached between them and slowly undid the drawstring on his boyfriend’s sweatpants. Carlos broke off the kiss. “Are you sure?”

T.K. nodded, moving his hands underneath Carlos’ shirt, helping him pull it off over his head. They both needed this, to touch, to feel, to reassure themselves that they were alive, that this might have changed their night, but it hadn’t change them. 

Carlos started to roll on top of him, but T.K. gently pushed him back down until he was the one on top, chests and hips pressed together, a reversal of their positions from just hours before. Carlos’ hands landed on T.K.’s back, their eyes locking, both of them seeking comfort in the physicality of being together.

“We’re okay,” T.K. said, as much for himself as for Carlos.

Carlos nodded and then closed his eyes as T.K. began pressing kisses into his neck and chest. “We’re okay,” T.K. murmured soothingly every time his lips left Carlos’ skin. “I’m going to say it until you believe it. We’re okay. We will be okay together.”

                                           XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. woke up in the morning legs still tangled with Carlos’. It took him a moment to remember why he had a pounding headache and his muscles felt tight. Right. Burning condo. Smoke inhalation. Mad dash for their lives.

Carlos was still deeply asleep, for which T.K. was grateful. His boyfriend had drifted off in his arms somewhere around three am and T.K. had quickly followed. He managed to extricate himself without waking Carlos and pulled on some clothes before he headed out to the kitchen in search of painkillers. 

Sun was just filtering in the windows, the day already bright and clear. It was incredible how the world could continue to turn, even when everything had just crashed down around you. T.K. found some Advil, leaving it out on the counter, knowing it was likely that Carlos would be in need of some too. Then he moved their now clean, damp clothes from the washer to the dryer. They’d need to go out today and get some essentials. 

“T.K.?” Mateo asked in surprise as he appeared at the base of the stairs.  “I thought you and Carlos made up?” He paused and frowned in confusion. “Is that my shirt?”

T.K. sighed and launched into an edited version of the night’s events. “Dude,” Mateo said when he finished, a stunned look on his face. “Man that sucks. I’m glad you guys are all right.”

“Yeah, us too,” T.K. said.

“And listen, my house just totally blew up too. It was a rental, so not quite the same, but if you guys need help with any part of this process just let me know. You can borrow my car or laptop or whatever you need.”

“Thanks Mateo,” T.K. said gratefully.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Carlos appeared, eyes bleary and swollen, curls a disheveled mess. There was still a heaviness about him, but he looked better than the night before.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around T.K.’s waist and giving him a kiss, lingering slightly longer than their normal morning peck. “Hi Mateo.”

“Hey Carlos. T.K. told me about your place, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Carlos said with a sigh.

“Did you sleep okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos nodded, then winced. T.K. reached for the bottle of Advil and poured him a glass of water. “Thanks,” Carlos said, swallowing down two pills.

“Did you call your captain?” T.K. asked as Mateo grabbed a protein bar and vacated the kitchen to give them some privacy.

“Yeah he’d already heard. Told me to take the time I need.”

“Good,” T.K. said.

The dryer buzzed. “That’s our clothes,” T.K. said, getting up to retrieve them. “At least you can put on a shirt that fits.”

He tossed Carlos his shirt and pants. Carlos stared down at them, a frown on his face. “You okay?” T.K. asked.

“Why did you throw a shirt at me?”

“What?”

“Last night. We were about to be burned alive and you made me put a shirt on.”

“Oh,” T.K. thought for a second and shrugged as he folded his sweatpants and set them on top of the dryer. “I don’t know. I guess I just…panicked. I was thinking that the temperature drops here at night and I didn’t want you to be cold when we got outside.”

“Our condo was hot as hell, but you were worried I’d be cold?”

T.K. bit his lip and shook his head, a sheepish smile growing on his face. “I don’t know, like I said I panicked. It was the first thought that came to me.”

“Well it was a good one,” Carlos said, slipping his arms around T.K.’s waist. “Standing out there all night with no shirt on would have been pretty uncomfortable.”

T.K. threaded his arms through Carlos’, hands coming to rest on his lower back. “You doing okay this morning?” he asked.

“Better,” Carlos confirmed. “Thank you. I think I just…needed to let it all out. I’m sorry about last night. My head was…”

“Hey,” T.K. shook his head. “No more apologies. No one has anything to apologize for, right?” He brushed a hand over Carlos’ cheek. “Do you want coffee? Or a smoothie?” His eyes went wide as a thought hit him. “Oh no!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Carlos asked, concern dropping over his face like a cloud. T.K.’s distress was so sudden and visceral that he pulled back slightly, eyes searching T.K.’s frame for some kind of injury.

T.K. felt his chest growing tight as anxiety gripped him. “Marlon Blendo! Oh my god, my dad is going to be so upset!”

“Whoa.” Carlos cupped his face in his hands. “I’m sure your dad will be okay. Blenders are replaceable.”

“Carlos he really loved that blender,” T.K. said seriously. 

Carlos chuckled. “Here I am, wondering all night long how we’re going to get through this and how you can be so calm when the world has literally gone up in flames, and now you’re losing it over a blender.”

“He was a really good blender!” T.K. pulled away from him and ran a hand through his hair as he took a few aimless steps, more thoughts striking him. “Oh my god my hoodies!”

“I will buy you new hoodies,” Carlos assured him.

“They won’t be the same,” T.K. groaned.

“Is this you finally freaking out?”

“I am not freaking out!” T.K.’s breathing had increased rapidly as panic spiraled through him. The sense of calm control he’d felt for the past twelve hours slowly started to slip away as reality set in. “Oh my god I’m totally freaking out. I can’t freak out, you’re freaking out! We can’t both be freaking out!”

“Hey,” Carlos cradled his face in his hand. “We’re okay? Remember? And if you need to freak out and lose it, that’s all right. It’s your turn. I’ll pull it together for a couple hours and you can melt down.”

“I don’t want to melt down, I want my shirt with the blue stripes on it. And that bergamot candle your parents gave us as a housewarming gift. Oh my god, Carlos all your spices from the market!”

“Come here,” Carlos said, pulling him into a hug, one hand holding him firmly around the waist, the other settling on the nape of his neck, thumb moving back and forth in a soothing motion.

T.K. let his forehead rest against Carlos’ shoulder, feeling more grounded by the strength of his boyfriend’s arms and the softness of his fingers. “Thanks,” he mumbled. 

T.K. took a breath as the weight of everything began to land on his shoulders. Losing their home. Almost losing each other. God, how was he only now feeling how terrible it all was? He’d truly thought he was okay until this very second. “We’re going to make it through this, right?” he asked. He’d been so sure last night, but now…

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Yes. We are.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: When I started writing this, did I think it would end up in the boys having soft, sweet "we're so glad we're not dead" sex in Owen's guest room? Nope. No I did not. Is it all @bluenet13's fault that it happened? Possibly. Or possibly they're just too sexy and they couldn't help it. Idk.

#911 Lone Star #911 LS #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #TK Strand #Tarlos Fic #2x12 #The Big Heat #Post Ep #Home is Us #Emotional Hurt/Comfort

[totaldramamarching]

Oneshot Friday!

#7: The Delinquent, Part Two

Duncan gets falsely accused of a crime during rehearsal. The band doesn’t let that slide easily. Set two years before the current blog timeline.

“Left, left, left, left! Other left, Owen! Left, left, left!”

As the song dragged on, Duncan spared a moment to wonder how the band was supposed to hear the snares when Mr. McLean was yelling over everything.

In the end, he guessed it didn’t matter that much, to him at least. He could hear the snares, so he would be in time. It was still annoying to hear the band be behind, though.

If you asked Duncan three months ago what he thought about band kids, he would’ve spouted insult after insult, name after name. But, with the principal’s meddling, he wasn’t just a snarky observer of losers -- no, he was a loser himself. His school days were followed by percussion lessons and late night marching rehearsals.

Even worse? He liked it.

He didn’t damage the drums because they were fun to hit. He didn’t tear up the flags because he had a crush on one of the cologuard members. He didn’t even egg the principal’s house like he planned just because he didn’t want to risk being barred from football games.

It was like he was a completely different person. And in many respects, he was. Which is why he stopped in his tracks the second he saw the red and blue flash of police cars.

Police cars. Here. When he’d done nothing.

Duncan only vaguely registered that Mr. McLean stopped the band. His mind replaced the noise with panicked thoughts. What could they possibly blame him for? As much as he wanted to tell them that marching band was just another failed attempt to keep him in line, he couldn’t. He’d spent every second he could in the band room or on the field, notably not committing crimes. That's what they wanted, right?

Even as he got lost in his own head, he knew everyone had turned to him, the dumbass frozen in the middle of the field. Their eyes on him, the outsider… it burned.

Usually he would run. He was good at running, escaping. But this was different. Maybe it was the fact that he knew he was innocent that kept him planted on the turf.

The police officers didn’t even approach the directors first. They went straight onto the field, straight to Duncan, handcuffs at the ready. Duncan glared at them, though he probably wasn’t as menacing as he wanted to be with a bass drum strapped to his chest.

The first policeman, who Duncan knew well as Officer Binns, audibly sighed. “Duncan Sarno, you are under arrest for theft and breaking and entering.”

“I didn’t do squat,” Duncan spat.

The other officer -- Officer Johnson -- haughtily slung the handcuffs around his finger. “With your record?” He laughed. “Likely story, kid. Get that drum off and let’s go.”

“Uhm, hello?” Mr. McLean called into his microphone. His irritation echoed throughout the field. “We’re kind of in the middle of a rehearsal here!”

“Don’t worry sir, you will be able to resume your rehearsal shortly,” Officer Binns called.

“Uhhh, I don’t think so. Because it looks like you're arresting one of my students.” Mr. McLean tutted. “Kinda hard to have a rehearsal without the first bass drum.”

“Sir, please do not discuss this over your speakers.”

“Is that illegal? I don’t think so.” Some of the upperclassmen chuckled at their director’s nonchalance, but it was very obvious that his patience was wearing thin. “Listen, buddy, I know this kid’s schedule inside and out. He didn’t do anything.”

“We’ll still need to take him to the school office for questioning.”

“Not during my rehearsal, you don’t!”

“Sir, this is a routine questioning. Please stop talking about it over the microphone.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I literally spend all my time here, whether I like it or not. Ask my parole officer,” Duncan interjected.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, kid. Now get that drum off,” Officer Johnson snapped.

Duncan huffed. So much for finding something he actually liked. He grabbed the drum carrier from his shoulder and set it down gently behind him. As he turned around to get handcuffed yet again, he saw a barrier between him and Officer Johnson. A body. His crush’s body.

“Do you have a warrant?” Courtney the colorguardian asked stiffly, one arm shielding Duncan and the other firming holding her flag.

“Miss, step aside,” Officer Binns demanded. Courtney stayed put, Duncan noticed. He also noticed that none of the directors did anything to stop her.

“You need a warrant to arrest someone,” Courtney said indignantly.

“Aye, no warrant, no cuffs, man!” Geoff the trumpet player exclaimed.

Officer Johnson narrowed his eyes. “We don’t need a warrant if we have probable cause,” he said.

“You don’t got probable cause, ‘cause he’s been here the whole time!” Leshawna shouted from two yard lines away.

Even further away, a flute player named DJ shouted, “Officers, we can all vouch that he's been here!” Murmurs of agreement broke out across the field.

“Also, if your only evidence is his record, then that’s thin at best, violating his rights at worst,” Gwen, another sophomore percussionist, noted, setting her mallets on her tenor drums.

“No warrant, no cuffs!” Geoff shouted again. “No warrant, no cuffs!”

DJ joined in the chant. So did Gwen and Leshawna and DJ. Loud personalities like Owen, quiet types like Bridgette, upperclassmen who hated his guts all joined in on those four words. Even Courtney, as much as she kissed up to authority, raised her flag in the air and let the words escape her lips,

“No warrant, no cuffs! No warrant, no cuffs! No warrant, no cuffs!”

It was a strange feeling, he thought, having someone fight for him instead of his record, fight for the person instead of the number. As the chants grew louder, his chest tightened, but in a good way. He never felt that before.

From the home bleachers, he saw Mr. McLean give a smirk as he joined in over the microphone. For once, Ms. Andrews-O’Halleron and Mr. Hatchet didn’t seem annoyed by his antics. In fact, this time, they seemed to encourage it.

The band cheered as the officers left the field. Duncan was equal parts ecstatic and dumbfounded. A group of people -- majority of whom he’d never talked to -- all stood up to a pair of policemen for him, authority, when a large part of marching band was just doing what you're told. Yeah, he was glad the fuzz was off his back, but this was just... new.

Next thing he knew, Mr. McLean called everyone to attention and asked them to start from the beginning of the movement. Rehearsal just continued like nothing happened. Honestly, Duncan kind of preferred it that way. He slipped back into habitual concentration, turning his mind from arrests to note rests.

He would never admit it, but on that stupid football field with those stupid mallets and stupid people, he finally felt free.

fin.

#total drama marching #total drama au #total drama writing #oneshot friday #td duncan #td chris #td chris mclean #td courtney #td fanfic #tdi #tda #tdwt

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying.  She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

#how many ways can I rework show dialogue to fit this story lmfao #soft boy Luke returns to SAVE THE FREAKIN DAY #JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE HIM ALREADY JEEZ #HE BASICALLY ADMITTED IT TO YOU #okay done yelling at my characters now lol #this is what I get for projecting my OCs on them #Mads writes #find the strength find the melody #julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #jukebox #julie x luke #luke x julie #julie and the phantoms fanfic #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #julie and the phantoms fic #jatp fic #juke fic

[hearteyesemergency]

TK Accidentally Takes Carlos Home While His Dad’s There

Request: TK forgets he’s living with his Dad, and takes Carlos home and they get caught?

A/N: This has been on my mind recently. Semi-established Tarlos for this fic. It got a lot longer than I expected, but I really wanted to show some of smitten/pining TK that we haven’t seen much of yet in this canon slow burn. And I really wanted to keep this canon Carlos who gives TK the space to breathe and heal.

Summary: Considering how close TK is to his Dad, it‘s astounding to anyone that he forgot they lived together. After a pretty successful dancing date, TK takes Carlos home with him, and scar’s Owen with the sight of them all over each other once barely inside the door. TK could die of embarrassment, and Carlos just really wants Owen to like him.

Warnings: Course language, Mild sexual themes.

TK stumbled backward into his home, not worried about the key that slipped from his fingertips and landed somewhere on the floor beneath their feet. All he cared about was Carlos’ lips on his, and how somehow they made him feel so incredibly wanted.

They weren’t even together, not officially anyway, they hadn’t had that chat yet, but Tyler didn’t know any word other than ‘loved’ to describe the way Carlos made him feel. TK had rarely felt worthy of anything as powerful as that, and yet here Carlos was, making him feel like he was drowning in it.

It grew this need in Tyler to have Carlos closer. Like, impossibly close, limbs tangled, body to body, even a thin shirt between them was too much. All TK wanted was to get the clothes gone, he just needed to feel Carlos.

He had gotten far too invested lately in the fleeting power trip that came with lost buttons on Carlos’ shirt when he tore it off the man. So far, Carlos had lost four button-ups and counting. TK had only managed the top half of this shirt when someone cleared their throat in the next room.

TK sprung back with a gasp. In the kitchen stood Owen, glass of milk in hand. He looked tired, wrapped in a sweater over his pyjamas and socks on his feet. Another half hour, and he’d probably have been in bed. Just Tyler’s luck that his Dad finds him with kiss swollen lips, trying to rip the shirt off a man who may as well have been their colleague.

“Hi boy’s,”

“Dad,”

“Uh, hi, Mr Strand,”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you can call me Owen,”

“To be honest, Sir, right now, I don’t think that I can,”

Owen shrugged understandingly.

TK couldn’t look at either of them, a blush settled on his cheeks. How the fuck he forgot that he lived with his father, he wasn’t sure.

“So, fun night?” Owen guessed,

“Uh, yeah... I mean, we just went dancing at the bar- TK only drank water,”

“I know,” Owen nodded, “I trust him, and you’re a good influence,”

Carlos sighed in relief through a smile, “thank you, Sir.”

Owen grinned back.

“Well, this has been sufficiently awkward,” TK finally piped up, “good night.”

TK took Carlos by the hand and lead him to the stairs. Now was not the time for his Dad and the guy he was seeing to bond. They were halfway up when he heard his Dad at the bottom.

“TK!”

He sighed, “Yeah, Dad,”

“Door open,”

He whirled around, “You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not joking. I’m literally in the bedroom next door. Door open.”

TK pulled a face.

As if your Dad interrupting a hot make out session with the guy you’re seeing wasn’t a turn off enough, him being in the next bedroom, in a house that had possibly the thinnest walls in Texas- THAT was an even bigger turn off.

TK couldn’t lock himself and Carlos behind his bedroom door fast enough after that. He took a moment to rest his head against the wood, composing himself as he left Carlos to make himself comfortable in the room.

At this point, he didn’t care if Carlos looked around, what he’d see was now officially the least embarrassing thing TK could face that night.

He had no reason to be concerned though, the police officer cared more about gently pulling Tyler out of his dramatics, and away from the door. He sat TK down on the bed before he flicked the lock back, and opened up the room once again.

“But-“

“I want your Dad to like me, TK. I don’t want him thinking I’m encouraging you to disobey his rules in his house,”

“Okay, first of all, he loves you. Second of all, I’m a grown man-“

“Who still lives with his Dad, which means we respect his rules. And your Dad loves me as a cop, he doesn’t know me as his sons boyfriend, or whatever this is,”

“...we could call it a boyfriend thing,” TK shrugged, though didn’t meet Carlos’ eyes,

“Yeah?”

TK nodded.

Though he still didn’t look, he felt Carlos come crouch down in front of him, taking the firefighters face in his hands. Reluctantly, TK turned to make eye contact with the man, and found a soft smile waiting just for him. Carlos caressed his cheek for a moment, before he kissed him.

Not like earlier, no, this kiss was soft and sweet, there was no lust in it at all. TK may have literally whimpered into it. Carlos had a way of making TK seem like he was breakable, not in a bad way, in a good way. Like he was precious, and invaluable. Like it would be the worst thing in the world if something were to hurt him.

TK let himself collapse forward against Carlos, foreheads together as he took in the man’s scent. It calmed him, not that he had been nervous or anything, he was just generally a little chaotic, and Carlos had a good affect on him in that respect. He was once again coming to love the super intimate moments in a relationship. The staring, the feeling, the silence, and it was all thanks to the man right in front of him.

“You really think your Dad’s cool if I stay the night?”

“Are you joking?” TK pulled back and looked at his boyfriend, “you’re going to wake up to a cooked three course breakfast,”

Carlos chuckled, “you sound sure,”

“I am sure, I can see it in his eyes- he really likes you,”

“I hope so,” Carlos caressed TK’s cheek,

“I know so... Now get up here and give me cuddles since you’re playing by my fathers boring game of innocence.”

Carlos rolled his eyes, though complied anyway. He borrowed a pair of sweats from TK’s dresser as they both changed out of their date attire, though didn’t bother with a shirt, he didn’t want to stretch anything out. TK watched as the man crawled into his bed for the very first time, and was certain that he could absolutely get used to this.

When Carlos was comfortable, TK sat up and faced him, so that he could look at him and admire the man that had taken things so slow with him to get to this point. He couldn’t help but run a hand through Carlos’ hair, it was usually the other man who was so gentle and understanding with him, somehow able to draw out TK’s most vulnerable side, and help him accept and grow with all his past traumas and flaws.

Carlos grinned up at him, and it was nice there like that. They fell into a soft conversation, talking about nothing and absolutely everything. TK sat against the policeman’s hip, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the bare skin. Their hands tangled or explored the others soft skin, never still. It was very possibly the most intimate situation TK had ever been in. Intimacy far beyond sex, something he was not in the slightest experienced with.

Carlos was certainly his most grown up relationship, and he put every other boyfriend TK had ever had to complete shame. TK understood why his Dad liked Carlos, everyone liked Carlos, but his Dad especially, because he didn’t have to worry as much with Carlos around. He had a strong head on his shoulders, and he wasn’t afraid to pull TK in line when he needed it, but was equally as understanding and there through the hard times as well.

“Good night.”

TK looked back over his shoulder to his father at the door, and smiled, “good night, Dad,”

“How do you like your eggs in the morning, Carlos?”

TK chuckled, and gave his boyfriend one of those ‘I told you so’ looks.

“I’ll cook,” Carlos countered, “my Mum used to make our breakfast every day... you have to try it,”

“I won’t say no to that,” the Cap agreed, “good night, boys.”

Owen switched the light off as he left, and TK couldn’t help but relish in how fucking domestic this was. It was like when you live in a different city, and you and the husband go home to visit the father who calls every other day because he misses you, and would do anything to have you home.

In the darkness, TK laid back down beside Carlos, leg thrown over the other man’s hip, arm around his waist as he nuzzled his face in Carlos’ shoulder.

“Is it weird that I don’t find any of this awkward?” Carlos wondered,

“My Dad has that affect on people.”

TK didn’t elaborate on the fact that he knew his father had never been this relaxed and instantly accepting with any other guy TK had dated. It was too much too soon to say out loud. For now, both Carlos and his Dad knew where his feelings stood, and that was enough.

Carlos made him feel light, and safe, and fuck he hoped this time it worked out.

If Carlos was bothered by how much TK would toss and turn during the night, he didn’t let it on. TK figured he knew the struggles with shift work body clock himself. Despite his inability to stay asleep, TK felt like the hours that he did get in had been the best he’d had in years. He also enjoyed the times when he was awake, when he could stare at how peaceful and perfect Carlos was.

TK couldn’t think of a single thing he had done to deserve the man beside him, but he knew damn well he wouldn’t give up their rollercoaster ride for anything. He’d rather spend one hard day with Carlos than infinite ‘easy’ days with anyone else.

It was around 4am when TK had last laid awake, staring at the back of Carlos, fingers gently trailing absentmindedly up and down the officers back.

“You think awfully loudly,” Carlos whispered, though it was enough to startle TK,

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” TK reclaimed his hands,

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Carlos rolled onto his back and looked across to TK,

“I was just thinking about how happy I am... and I really mean that.”

It was too dark either of them to really see each other, but they stared anyway. A moment later, Carlos grabbed a hold of TK, and drew him into his chest before rolling back to the other side. Now TK was practically cocooned in Carlos’ arms, snuggled in his chest and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Be cute in the morning, I’m trying to sleep,” Carlos’ voice was light,

“You and I both know I’m not this good with feelings in the light of day...“

“You don’t give yourself enough credit... you’ve come so far since I met you. I’m so proud of you.”

To TK, those words meant more than ‘I love you.’ Anyone can love another person, but to make someone proud, especially with the parts of yourself you hate the most... that was something else.

TK closed his eyes and sighed contently, “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me... thank you. For everything,”

“Ride or die.”

TK couldn’t help but laugh at that, and he didn’t care how loud he was. He wondered who the fuck taught Carlos that, because Lord knew that he didn’t figure out that was a ‘thing’ on his own.

With one last kiss to Carlos’ neck, TK willed himself to go back to sleep, a much easier task when he could count to the beats of Carlos’ heart.

It was morning when he woke up, after eight, and he knew that his Dad would be out on his morning run. His back was to Carlos now, the man’s arm only loosely around TK’s waist. He could tell from the awkward placement that Carlos was still asleep, and if he wasn’t afraid to wake him by moving- probably far too late- he would’ve wrapped the police officer up in his own arms and returned the favour.

A small glimmer caught TK’s eye on the night stand, and he looked over to find three blue buttons sat neatly in a row. TK couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. Sometimes, he was sure he and his father were too close, way too close, though he still wouldn’t change it for the world, and he was so glad that his Dad liked Carlos, because TK was fairly certain one day they’d walk down to isle to Carlos waiting at the end. At least he hoped so.

#Carlos Reyes #Tyler Kennedy Strand #TK Strand #Tyler Strand #911 lone star #lone star #Carlos x TK #TK x Carlos #tarlos #tarlos prompt #tarlos fic #911 lone star fic

[yikesharringrove]

oh god okay feel free to ignore this if you want, idk? but um ive been really struggling with eating lately (like i just kinda panicked about the thought of eating?) and you're really good at writing all this kind of stuff so maybe billy struggling with eating after starcourt (for medical and mental reasons) and steve helping but still bring gentle and encouraging (totally okay if this is a sensitive for you or if you don't want to write it 💕)

This is pretty heavy.

Under the cut for medical stuff, disordered eating, talks of throw up (nothing graphic), me projecting.

The first bit under the cut is my medical story, so skip that if you would like.

Read on Ao3

-

So, oof. A little background. I spent three years misdiagnosed when I was young. I was so sick and in so much pain (one of my organs had literally died) that I couldn’t eat. If I did, I was in such severe pain I would throw up. I was 5 feet tall and weighed 62 pounds. If I had lost 2 pounds, I would’ve had an intestinal feeding tube. The doctors thought I just had an eating disorder from doing ballet. They would look at my chart, see another chronic illness I have, and blame my pain on that. They found what was wrong BY ACCIDENT and fixed it within a few hours in one (1) surgery.

So this is based largely on that.

-

He pushed the mashed potatoes around the plate.

“I thought hospital food was supposed to be like, bad. This is pretty alright.” Steve had wolfed down the plate he had gotten himself, not paying much attention to how the plate he had brought Billy was still full.

“Yeah. It’s okay.” He had taken one bite.

He felt fucking sick.

The thought of food, of something in his sore stomach, made him want to hurl.

“You’re not eating?” Steve’s eyebrows were scrunched up, concerned.

“Don’t feel too good.”

“Would something sound better? I could get you whatever you wanted.”

“Um, just like a ginger ale or something. Then I’ll try eating again.” That was his go-to. Ginger ale or Sprite, the carbonation helped his stomach enough that he could force some food down for a while.

Steve got him a few cans from the vending machine.

He ended up taking three bites of potato.

-

Steve made dinner when he finally got to come home.

They had decided he would move in with Steve, “live” in the bedroom across the hall, but they both knew he would be spending the most time in Steve’s room.

He had just made buttered noddles, nothing that would be hard on Billy’s weak stomach, but he had made the noodles from scratch.

And Billy was just staring at them.

“You feeling okay?”

“Just, uh, you know. Stomach’s kinda off.” Steve got him a can of ginger ale from the fridge, slid it to him with a bright smile.

The gesture was sweet, but Billy just didn’t want to risk it.

Every night he spent heaving into the toilet, it made his muscles seize and hurt. It made his throat burn for hours, made him feel like he was wasting away to nothing.

-

He always used the same hole on his belts.

He knew it was the right one from the way the leather was stretched a bit, the buckle leaving indents on it.

But that was too big now.

Did nothing to hold up his pants.

His pants that used to fit.

He tightened his belt.

Two notches. He was two notches thinner.

-

Billy could hear the blender when he woke up.

He was curious as to what Steve was doing, what the fuck he was blending up.

He came downstairs, found Steve with grocery bags all around the kitchen.

“Hey! I’ve been doing some research.” He poured the thick smoothie into a blender. “I think this might be easier for you to eat and keep down. There’s protein powder and some ginger, that should help keep your stomach calm, and spinach and some fruit and stuff.” Steve was fidgeting with his hands.

“Thank you.” Billy sat down with it.

Steve let him take his time, let him drink it in tiny sips.

He was about halfway through when he threw it all up.

-

Billy hadn’t eaten in two days.

But he also hadn’t thrown up in just as long.

Steve poked a plate of plain toast towards him.

Billy stared at it.

Steve sighed.

“Will you just, take one bite? For me?”

He took the smallest bite he possibly could.

Steve let him wait ten minutes before he pushed the toast back towards him.

They continued that until Billy finished the toast, waiting a while between each bite in order to make sure it wasn’t on it’s way back up.

He kept it down almost the whole night, until the pain in his stomach flared again and he was heaving into the large mixing bowl Steve kept next to the bed.

-

Billy was laying on the bed, curled into himself, clutching his stomach.

Steve had been behind him almost all day, rubbing his back, talking in a low soothing voice.

He left when there was a pounding on the door. He left the door open, Billy could hear Max’s voice.

“Jesus, Max. You’re a mess.”

“It’s, it’s raining. And I fell.”

“Why were you skateboarding in the rain?”

“I um, I remembered, whenever Billy felt sick, he liked eating lime popcicles, and I went to Melvald’s, and I got some.”

She sounded hysterical.

“Alright, thank you, Max. Thank you. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He heard them coming up the stairs, going into the bathroom on the landing he kept the first aid kit in.

They were in there for a while before Steve came in, talking in that soft voice he always uses.

“Billy, Max is here.”

It felt like a feat for him to roll over.

Her knees were bandaged up, and her face was splotchy.

“Hey, Shitbird.”

“You look like shit.” He huffed a laugh.”

“Feel like it, too.” Her lip trembled. He didn’t want that. “Hey, thanks for the popcicles. Can I get one? Lime, right?”

“Yeah. Lime.” Steve helped him sit up, gave him one of the popcicles.

It tasted good, and the cold was nice on his throat.

And he even kept the whole thing down.

-

Steve was standing next to Billy as they waited for the doctor.

He had lost nearly thirty pounds since he’d been home. His muscle was nearly entirely gone.

“Steve, just, play it cool.”

“I will not.” He had his pissed off mom face on, and Billy knew he had no qualms about yelling at a doctor.

“Steve, this is just, my life now.”

“No. I refuse to accept that.”

“You yell at Owens every time we’ve come in for the past four months, Steve.”

“And I’m gonna keep yelling until shit gets fixed.”

There was a rap on the door before Dr. Owens let himself in.

“You need to help him.” Billy huffed as Steve started in immediately.

“Um, good morning to you both.” Dr. Owens looked between the two of them.

“Billy can’t eat without throwing up. Look at him. He’s fucking wasting away.”

“Steve-”

“No. I can’t take it anymore. There is something fucking wrong. It is your job to fix it.”

Owens’ eyes were wide, Steve was on a roll.

“Every day, every day he can’t eat anything. He won’t because he’s in pain, and he’d rather not eat than throw everything up. And you need to help him.”

Owens was quiet.

“Let’s run some tests.”

-

Billy was in imaging within a few minutes. He had an x-ray done of his abdomen, and Owens ordered several blood tests.

They were in another room, Billy was having an ultrasound done of his entire stomach.

The tech was looking at his intestines, finding everything normal.

“Look, you’re already doing all this, can’t you just kinda, poke around?”

“I’m not sure-”

“Just kinda,” Steve made a vague wiggling gesture around Billy’s stomach.

She gave him a look.

But she sighed, moving the wand up his body.

“Huh?”

“Wait, what’s huh?”

“Um, excuse me.” She left in a hurry.

“Wait, you think they found something?” Billy’s eyes were side.

“If they did, and I was right, you’re never gonna hear the end of it.” Billy rolled his eyes.

The tech returned with an older woman, pointing at the screen and discussing in low voices.

And then the doctor was leaving again, and the tech was wiping his stomach.

“So, we’re going to prep an operation room. We’re going to have you in there as soon as we can.”

“Wait, what?”

“His gallbladder is infected.” Steve was fucking grinning when he turned back to Billy.

“So, I was right?”

“Steve, read the room. Surgery.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

Steve was biting his nails.

The chairs in the waiting room were stiff and uncomfortable.

They were given the run down. Billy’s gallbladder had become infected. Probably due to the traumatic situation of his injuries and the many surgeries it took to put him back together.

It was almost completely dead inside his body, causing severe pain and all the vomiting. The doctor had explained that his rapid weight loss had probably only hurt it more.

They said it would take about two hours to remove.

Steve had been staring at the large clock as the two hours clicked by.

It was creeping up on two and a half, and he was getting fucking antsy.

He scrambled to his feet when a nurse called him back.

“You family?”

“Yeah, I’m his brother.” It was easier to lie. He needed to see him.

“He should be waking up very soon. It’s easier if there’s family. His surgery went well, the surgeons were able to remove his gallbladder with no other complications. He may be in pain and delirious when he wakes up, put that will pass, and we can give him more medicine if he needs.” They had stopped in front of a nondescript door.

Steve let himself in, taking the seat closest to Billy’s bed, taking his hand. His eyes were already blinking slowly. He smiled softly when he saw Steve.

“Pretty,” his voice was soft.

“Hey, Baby. I’m right here for you.”

“Thanks for, thanks for fightin’.” Steve smiled back at him, running a hand through his hair.

“Of course, Bill. I’ll always fight for you.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Billy smiled again. “You feelin’ okay? Need more meds?”

“Nah. Feelin’ good. Feelin’ high.”

“Yeah, they gave you the good drugs.”

“Good drugs.” He laid back in the pillow, his eyelids looking heavy.

“Go to sleep if you’re tired, Bill.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna see you.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Steve kissed his hand.

#i was literally so skinny the doctor found out i had slight scoliosis just by me like standing there #yikes writes #tw disordered eating #tw eating #tw eating disorder #tw medical anorexia #tw throw up #tw vomit #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

[dustedmagazine]

Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

#yearend 2020 #dusted magazine #ian mathers #greet death #holy fuck #spanish love songs #julianna barwick #phoebe bridgers #aidan baker #gareth davis #Anastasia Minster #Deftones #hum #Kelly Lee Owens #mesarthim #perfume genius #protomartyr #rachel kiel #the ridiculous trio #sam amidon #Shabason Krgovich & Harris #Stars Like Fleas #well yells #yves tumour #aix em klemm #bardo pond #charles curtis #coil #hot chip

[teacup-crow]

Training Montage

Zombies Make, 08/08/20, round 3! Thanks @crownleys and @puptart

Inspired by Bad Axe Throwing - guide and tips. Set soon after S2M27. Jody tries to give Owen the training he desperately requires. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Edit: sorry if this screws up - it keeps breaking on mobile and cutting off the first/last paragraph, which is annoying as heck!

It’s so hot, the handle of the axe is slipping a little in her damp hands as she tries to steady her grip on it. She can feel her shoulders burning, and can already hear Maxine’s rant about sunstroke and the dangers of burns and skin cancer and “I have enough to do! Really, Four, I have enough to do already!” She’s given up trying to explain that, being a redhead, avoiding sunburn is already impossible.

Still, though. There are other ways she’d rather be spending her afternoon off. She plants her feet into the soil, left, right. “Runner Six! Are you watching me?”

Owen has clearly been about five thousand miles away, but he yells “Yes ma’am!” and gives her a cheery salute. The Australian is, of course, joyous in the heat. She feels her eyes roll so hard they almost touch the back of her skull.

“Riiiight. Okay. There are many different types of axe. We usually just use the ones we can get a hold of. When you’re throwing them, you should try and aim for the zombie’s head – it’s the only thing that stops them. If it’s a person, their centre of mass is better – it won’t necessarily kill them, but it will slow them down. Got all that?”

“Zombie, head. Person, stomach. Got it. Hey, if this were a movie, this bit would be my training montage! What music do you think they’d play?”

She ignores him. “Now, watch my technique.” She raises her arm. The wooden sculpture trembles. She throws three handaxes in quick succession, thunk, thunk, thunk, each one just about on target. She wipes her hands on her shorts, satisfied despite herself. “Now, axes aren’t my preferred weapon; I’m an archer. But they’re easier to find, and to retrieve, than arrows.”

Owen is gazing at her, starry eyed. “Wow.”

“Now it’s your turn, and we’ll move onto the – put that down – we’ll move on to the bigger ones once you master it.”

Sheepishly, he kicks the larger axe aside and wanders to the target at a snail’s pace. Sara could have done this, Jody thinks. Or Simon. Or, literally anybody else. Unfortunately, she’d drawn the short straw over drinks in the barn the previous evening. So here she was.

“Plant both feet on the throwing line, shoulder width apart. Line up with the zombie’s head, and throw.”

To her disdain, he scrunches up his face, his entire posture locked and tight. The first throw misses by a clear metre, embedding itself in a chicken coop to an explosion of angry squawking.

Jody is reminded, vividly, of something her mum used to say when she was little and trying to deal with three rambunctious brothers corralling through their tiny terrace house and going through all her stuff. Patience is a virtue, virtue is a grace, Grace is a little girl who wouldn’t wash her face. She’s not felt her patience tried in the same way Cameron and Alex and Griff always tried it, until right now.

“Okay. Everyone has to start somewhere. Try to relax, yeah? Imagine you’re… I don’t know, at a Renaissance Fair or something. Maybe, uh… maybe try and look at what you’re doing?”

The second one also misses. The third, he pivots around and around to throw, and it whacks the wooden figure in the knees.

“For God’s sake, Six! It’s an axe, not a frisbee! Did you never chop wood on your mum’s farm?”

“Yes, I chopped it! I wasn’t slinging the axe at the scarecrows! Anyway, that one’s kneecapped!”

“Yeah, you’ve now created a really, really angry crawler! Congratulations!”

“Maybe I’d be better with the big ones? C’mon, just give me a chance. You’ve all been so bloody cold with me since the train tracks, and everyone says you’re so nice, and I...”

It’s so hard, she wants to tell him, to see Maggie’s number burnished on his armband. To see him feel like he has the right to that place in the roster. She was so funny, and sweet, and caring, and kind. And this guy-

“You nearly lost us a whole load of fuel by being useless and stupid enough to get caught by bandits. You’re lucky Five had a knife. Oh, which brings me to another point – never leave Abel unarmed.” She eyes the axes with disdain. “Although maybe you’d be better with a different weapon.”

He picks up a middling size axe in both hands, and plants his feet, the way she showed him. He raises it above his head, and takes a deep breath.

“I’m not completely useless, you know.”

She bites her tongue. “Okay. Hold it out in front of you, blade pointing down, and then move it back and forward and release, all in one motion. Let go with both your hands at the same time. And please just look where you’re throwing it. You should be able to see the target.”

He counts to five, and throws. Ribcage.

Despite herself, she’s impressed, although not by the beaming smile he turns on her. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

“So, training montage music, yeah? Do you think it would be Gonna Fly Now?”

She snorts. “You, Owen Landis, are not Rocky.”

“Yeah, that might be pushing it. Will you show me that stance again?”

“One more time. Right foot, left foot, and for God’s sake, pay attention!”

#zombies make #zombies run #zrs2 spoilers #owen landis #jody marsh

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 12: Respiration

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Twelve: Respiration 

Note: I’m going to go ahead and dedicate this arc to Owen Hamze, V’s likeness actor. He’s been going through a lot lately, and it parallels what happened in this fic in an eerie kind of way, as far as violence goes. Fiction aside, I hope he’s alright. Domestic violence is awful, and I’m sorry he’s been having to go through what he’s been going through.

(-~-)

Breath.

The ability for the human body -and many times much less human bodies- to intake the oxygen that they desperately needed to survive. The vital yet invisible literal lifeblood of the body that most beings couldn’t survive without, at least not for long. Without a simple but complex combination of molecules and atoms, nothing living was sustainable, and it was something that most everyone went through every day of their lives without giving a thought to unless they possessed a condition that made it difficult to them to do so. And up until that day, it had been something that he had never really thought much of, aside from the various times that he’d felt his lungs burning and his oxygen-starved body swaying and aching from a lack of it.

V missed the moments when he didn’t have to think about something so precious as though it were a privilege; the times when all he had to do was inhale and he was greeted by something so basic yet so essential to his very existence. Only the dead didn’t require it, as far as sapient beings went, and they would all be dead without it if they were deprived of it for very long. Their limbs would become limp and their essence would leave them, the useless sacks of flesh, adipose tissue, and muscle they had once depended on becoming nothing more than a negative impact on the carbon footprint. A heavy weight that meant nothing without blood circulation to carry vital components to their bodies that were needed to do literally anything. And what was one of those components?

Oxygen.

How he missed it now, given the state that he was in. How had it come to this? The darkness had pulled him under, his jump amounting to nothing in the very end other than to condemned him to the murky depths. Was it enough that the nefarious individuals who had sought to take his life from him for whatever purpose they served would now be deprived of their satisfaction? He hoped so vainly for the brief second that he was able to think before the air was stolen from his lungs and the light was stolen from his eyes. Never in his short life had he experienced such staggeringly cold water, not even in the moments that he had been forced into the river as a child. How distant that those days behind the menacing walls and buildings that he had once called home felt now. He imagined that the proprietors would feel a great sense of accomplishment and relief if they could see him now. How sure they would be if they could see him falter and fail that they had succeeded in crippling him so that his supposed evil nature could never be acted upon. They had thought that he was cursed then, and at this rate, he was almost ready to believe it now. But no. He would rather die than give them the satisfaction, even if they were right or they had no way of knowing. That was the only victory that he could see himself achieving over them in life. 

Living virtuously and prosperously was simply out of the question.

As he faded into blackness, he remembered seeing the night sky. How purple it had been, so beautiful and full of stars. If this was how it had to be, then he was thankful that it was the last sight he’d been granted the privilege of seeing. It was a small source of comfort to know that he could at least be at peace in this environment, none of the pain, sorrow, or. He wasn’t ready or willing to accept it, but he was willing to accept that some choices weren’t choices, and that the crushing existential horror that he felt in that moment would pass as quickly as it came regardless of what he had to say about the matter. Or at least that was what he thought. Who was to say what would actually happen at that moment. He wasn’t even sure what he believed, or if he believed in anything at all. 

But before he could ponder this, everything went completely black, and the world became still.

(-~-)

Morgan had been sitting there for hours, watching as the gurneys brought in person after person, doctors and nurses writing up and filing reports with grim efficiency and even grimmer expressions on their faces. This was all such a terrible mess, wasn’t it? Such a preposterous waste of life. And all for what? The temporary amusement of a few random madmen? Was that all this was? All that she’d lost her grandparents for?

People wandered about, filling the space around them with the sounds of footsteps, heavy breathing, and. Paper folded out of her line of view as relatives and well-wishers as well as horrified onlookers and shocked spectators filed down the corridors in a horrified rush to find out what had become of the people who had once resided in the small town of Lympha. She had never been so hyper-alert and yet completely distant before in her entire life, and there wasn’t a single thing that she could do to lessen the terror that she felt growing inside of her. A simple but all-consuming question eating away at her like an infection deep in her bones.

Where on earth was he?

Despite the fact that she had sat quietly and diligently in precisely the spot that she would have expected to have seen or heard something by now, there had been nothing. She eyed one of the nearby guards who had been stationed near her, the man glancing over at her as though he simply knew what she was thinking at that moment. Sympathy and annoyance were both present in his face in equal measure as he turned to face the young woman who had helped to make his eventful day even more eventful for the last two hours or so since she’d arrived in a crowded van along with a bunch of other disheveled strangers.

“Look, little lass. Before you ask me again, no. No, I’ve yet to hear anything back from my superiors about the matter at hand, other than the fact that they are combing the woods for any signs of them.” He paused, noting her dismay and hopelessness, her small shoulders falling as the gravity of the hopelessness that she found herself in weighed heavily on her. Perhaps crushing the last remaining remnants of a young and probably traumatized girl’s hopes to find her missing friend was not the best use of his time. “Look… Extra patrols have been despatched, and they are doing everything they can. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry. Really.”

Morgan nodded and sighed heavily, her elbows sliding forward as she used her open palms to cup her moist face, shivering as she finally allowed herself to begin to lose hope. “I know, sir. I know. I’ve just got to tell him that I’m sorry and that I’m grateful for everything. I’ve just gotta say something. I can’t live with it. With what he did for me. No, not like this. Not like this.”

But just as quickly as she’d begun to lose what little hope she had left, something caught her eye.

(-~-)

As if possessed by some otherworldly force, V felt his body lift up out of the frozen grass, his from soaking wet from the water that the ice had thinly concealed below its glossy, reflective surface. Every part of him down to the very marrow in his bones ached, and yet he felt no pain. He was freezing cold, but his body felt strangely warm. Although he was soaking wet, he didn’t feel the weight of his body as he dragged himself forward, his lungs emptying themselves of an impossible amount of water. It was as if the late had attempted to convert him into a part of itself, and there was nothing that he could to do escape the agony that he felt every time he inhaled and found his lungs practically frozen.

It was as if his body were compensating for his lack of mobility, a subconscious part of his brain noting that he was practically floating along despite the fact that he was heavier than he’d probably ever been. His skin prickled from the cold only to immediately become warm again even as the icy wind blew against him. His eyes watered only for the water to freeze and then become strangely warm given the circumstances. By all accounts, he should be dead. But it was as if he simply refused to lay down and die, some part of him too cold to freeze; his entire being fighting his condition in a way that seemed otherworldly and foreign to him.

Despite the fact that he couldn’t feel his right leg, he carried on. It was a numbness that he was familiar with, akin to the way that a limb felt when it went to sleep only much worse. There was a part of him that was sure that he would never be warm again, his body far past the reasonable threshold for hypothermia. While he wasn’t a medical expert, he could tell that much, and he remembered reading somewhere that once you started to feel warm because you were so cold, that that was the correct time to let panic set in since you were more than likely doomed. Medical science was incredible, but it could only do so much against odds like that. And despite everything, he still wanted to live. Maybe if he dug deep enough, he could continue forward just a little while longer?

One of the key issues with this plan was that he was simply walking aimlessly with no particular destination in mind. His feet carried onward like they knew where he was supposed to go despite the fact that he had literally no idea where he was going or how he was going to get there. It was surreal, but he didn’t have the strength or the willpower to act against whatever force drove him towards whatever his destination would turn out to be. That coupled with the fact that he seemed to be flashing in and out of consciousness meant that he couldn’t keep going much longer despite his seemingly inhuman drive to do so. 

His skin begged and pleaded with him to be covered with something, anything to stave off the elements, but he couldn’t oblige it. And as he carried on at a questionably rapid pace give his condition and the elements that battled against him, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the reality of the situation that he found himself in. something was genuinely unnerving about the amount of ground that he’d managed to cover in such a short amount of time. If he looked down at the ground, he wasn’t even sure he’d find evidence that he’d walked there. It was almost as though he’d simply moved his body to that location without his permission or direct input, and he didn’t know how to explain why or how it had happened, or the energy to object to it. He was simply there now, and that was all he could do about it.

Before long, against all odds, he saw the lights that lined the main highway, his mind trying and failing in his strangely energetic state to comprehend how he’d managed to walk here. It didn’t seem possible, yet here he was. Was it possible that he’d simply died and was now stuck in some strange idealistic limbo? Most certainly so, but he somehow knew that wasn’t the case in this situation despite the fact that stringing together any kind of coherent thought seemed nearly impossible. He exhaled heavily and stumbled forward, relieved and yet totally unsure as to why as he approached the road, eyeing it in a way that implied that he drew some measure of relief upon seeing it like it would offer him salvation of something. But perhaps that wasn’t too off base considering what happened only a short moment later.

The very instant that his legs finally became weak and he felt himself swaying unsteadily, V heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. By that point, he was too weak to even feel the fear that he knew he should have felt at the prospect of encountering what could be his enemies again. All his mind could focus on was the searing pain in his right leg and the full-body throbbing that threatened to sap every ounce of strength he had left. And as the patrol car came barreling into sight, V felt an ounce of relief was over him like a tidal wave as he hit the pavement and everything went black for the second time that day.

(-~-)

For a moment, all he could hear was the roaring of an engine, a vehicle that was too light to be the truck that had held him against his will spiriting him away to some unknown location. He vaguely remembered seeing lights along the street in the misty night sky, the fog that encompassed the area making everything brighter than it should have been. It was like he was caught in a fog machine, and all he could do was close his eyes again, despite the fact that he wasn’t really sure he’d actually opened them. All around him were the sounds of machinery and engines, and he wasn’t sure when the two became separate entities.

Then came the second set of lights, this time directly over his head as he felt himself moving forwards towards something. Warmth encompassed him as he registered the low hum of something unfamiliar near him once he stopped, his brain attempting to pull its self from the fog that he now metaphorically found himself stuck in. There was some part of him that knew that he was indoors, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how he knew that. Maybe it was the inviting warmth that he imagined he’d feel if every nerve ensign that had the misfortune of being attached to his skin wasn’t screaming like he’d been lit on fire. He wanted to muster the energy to speak up and say something about his condition to the other human beings who he could only imagine were around him, but he couldn’t, so instead, he focused on the rhythmic spinning of the wheels below him as they passed over a skip in whatever surface they found themselves on every few seconds or so.

Much to his surprise, he found himself stationary shortly thereafter, an obvious change in texture drawing him from his semiconscious state back into a more dreamlike level of consciousness. It was as though he’d just gone from laying on pavement or something equally as rigid and unyielding to being swaddled by the clouds themselves, his body not used to being in such an ergonomic state. It was strange, but not at all unwelcome. And finally, he registered the voices that he was willing to guess had always been there. At least two figures were standing somewhere nearby, and from what he could tell, they were discussing something pertaining to him.

“I’m sorry, you said his internal temperature was what now? That can’t be!”

“You know, that’s what I said! So I went and check again, and sure enough, it was right.”

“Everything I’ve ever been taught says it’s impossible to come back from an internal temperature that low! And you’re telling me that he’s, what, just on basic support? No Hypothermia, Renal System failure, or Frostbite or anything?!”

“Look, I didn’t say it made medical sense. I said that’s what happened. He just got incredibly lucky. I don’t know how else to even put it. It’s literally a miracle that he isn’t frozen solid right now. Aside from some kind of undefined injury to his leg that we’re currently investigating, he’s going to be totally fine somehow!”

“Well, geez. I’m happy for him, then. It’s about time we got some kind of positive news today. It’s good to see that at least one of these poor people is going to pull through and come back from the brink. Everything is such a mess. It’s a tragedy. I’m gonna see if that poor kid needs anything.”

They were doctors, and he was in some kind of emergency room. Suddenly everything became so clear to him as he peered over at them quietly, some part of him curious to hear what they had to say and equally unwilling to ask out of fear of being delivered a bad outcome. He was still alive, and he’d made it out of that place, even if he didn’t know who had found him and brought him the rest of the way. He would have to thank them in the future if he was able to. But as the reality of where he was and what he’d just experienced set in, so did an undeniable wave of relief and undefinable grief.

Somehow against all odds, he was still alive. He’d managed to escape with his life after everything had stacked the odds against him, and he was somewhere safe and warm and dry where those psychopaths couldn’t reach him. And he had no idea how to process that. But as soon as he could, he would. And then he would go and find Morgan. To see her safe; to know that she was in good hands would bring him closure. But for now, he would allow himself to rest and recover. Something told him that whatever was going on with his leg was going to prevent him from going anywhere anytime soon, and so it was best to let his body take its natural course and for him to relax and recover as best as he could.

With the day they’d both had, it was the least he could do. And he hoped that wherever Morgan was, she was doing the same. Something told him she wasn’t far off.

(-~-)

This chapter hits different now. Yikes.

Phew! It’s been a while since I’ve written a chapter this early in the morning. Well, time to go to bed! It’s Monday morning now, and I have things to get down tomorrow so that I can go to bed on time and get up Tuesday morning to write again lol! Literally, my entire life schedule revolves around the release schedule of this fic now. It’s crazy, but it’s the only thing giving my life structure during this quarantine. And yet, in spite of it all, I’m just glad that I have time to write again. Gosh, it’s been forever.

If you haven’t already, check out the link I posted at the end of the last chapter of the fic. I’ll be taking submissions from now until the end of time, so that might be fun for you. And to the FF.N readers: do you actually exist? My statistics and stuff don’t work, but I haven’t heard from you all in about 30 chapters. Everything alright?

Anyway, see you all on Friday, and remember: I adore you all! Take care and stay safe!

#V #V's Backstory #Hiraeth #Post Devil May Cry 5 #Post Devil May Cry V #DMC #DMC5 #DMCV #Vitale #Fanfiction #DMC Fanfiction #Post DMC FF

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Lost Hope (Favored Ones, Part 27.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: "Don’t go chasing waterfalls...” - TLC

For those who might not catch my drift: chasing waterfalls = chasing the reader.

Part summary: Coming terms with yourself is something that is important. It’s something that you need to do in order to become the better version of yourself. Abby almost finished the process of coming to terms with all the things that were happening around her, something else made her thirst for revenge wake up again.

A/N: This chapter is from A B B Y ‘ S  P O V. Be aware of that. I won’t be sorry for it, I learned to understand and to love Abby, even if I was against her when I played the game. Lev is an amazing character too. And now Mel is alive, there’s a possibility to change how Abby’s story will continue from this point.

Warnings: Depiction of torture, bone breaking, depiciton of blood and manslaughter, anxiety, rage, anger, a bit of fluff at the end.

Word count: 4.8 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy @gabymiller

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day three - evening:

The sea seemed to be serene and calm at the time their boat had taken off, it was quiet and the breeze was cold. This peaceful feeling could be simply also affected by everything they've been through so far. Even from the proximity they currently were from the island, they could still see Haven slowly burning down to the ground. Sometimes, the woman operating the boat would swear that she could hear the people screaming and guns firing. It was just the ghost of the sacred place haunting her brain, yet it was still there.

Lev, for the first half of an hour on the sea, was clinging onto the jacket Abby landed him. Then, the serene and gentle moves of the ocean made him fall asleep. The boy was now pressed into the small area between Abby's ankles, napping before they'd be back to the aquarium. The kid must've been exhausted - both emotionally and physically. That kid, who was now safely laying there squeezed into the tightest space he shouldn't be even able to fit, had killed his mother in self-defense. That kid watched his sister being shot to pieces. And he made it even though the despair, pain, and exhaustion.

It was weird to know that now, they were safe. No-one was after them. And as soon as they'd hit the aquarium, Lev, Owen, and Mel were about to leave Seattle for good in the search for the fireflies of Santa Barbara. Owen was asking Abby to join them while Melanie, with all the, despise she carried inside, had told her that once she, her boyfriend, and that Scars kids will leave Seattle, she will never want to see her goddamned face again. But now, things could change and maybe, for Lev, Abby could leave too.

That night, she had seen her family and friends being killed in the passion of the fight. For those who kids, she stood up to the only everlasting authority she blindly followed for the last couple of years - and Isaac was now killed, his corpse was rotting somewhere on the Seraphites island and Abby hoped that his body would be eaten by some wild animals to end his life in the shame he deserved. The time of WLF was coming to a sure end.

Abby's problem with the situation was as follows: soldiers were seemingly remorse-less characters lead by their general, Isaac for this instance, who just did what they were told. And for the most part, it was true. Yet, honestly, nothing hit Abby as personally as walking through the Seraphite settlement, following Lev's sister around. She, and the other WLFs, were used to seeing the best out of the best, the best warriors the Scars were able to train. And this hit different. These weren't the soldiers anywhere in sight - these were women and children, even men and other farmers who were not trained in combat - innocent people who were barely able to protect themselves were massacred ever since the WLF attack was started. That wasn't right at all. The things WLF has done on the island were wrong in every way possible.

It was all based around the battle of Seattle, which was going on for years now with occasional pauses, of course. Neither of the sides were good or bad in the situation. It was just a matter of habit - one side attacked, the other attacked back. One side overstepped the boundaries, the other reacted to this. It was this way for more than five years. Seattle was in this war ever before the time Abby and her friends arrived. And for that, she had never seen the true meaning of peaceful time in the city.

Abby wasn't looking around - the only things she saw were the ones directly in front of her eyes. She wasn't able to look behind her orders, she never needed to think about what she was doing, she just did what she was told. Until the moment she entered Jackson - and until the moment she met Lev and Yara. Jackson was a wild experience on its own.

Their small family was broken way before Jackson - Owen and Mel were now dating. And given the history of Abby and Owen, he was seeing her less and less. The final nail in the coffin being Mel's pregnancy. Nora and Whitney were taking every mission they could just to avoid her, the hospital being the last place Abby would ever see them. This left Manny being the last friend who remained by her side after Jackson was done. In the last few days, they were brought together after a long time in one way or another, but all Abby could thank was a weird coincidence of chances.

And there, there were the two siblings Abby met on her journey - Yara and Lev. At the moment, Abby had anyone except Lev - Yara was shot and killed by Abby's people during their escape from the island. It didn't matter that Abby tried to tell everyone about the kids not being any kind of threat to their cause. But it didn't matter - Yara was shot. In answer, Abby shot back at Isaac. Now, he was dead for real. She heard one of the radio communications over the WLF channel. She had done everything for the boy. Abby quite literally had sacrificed her whole known world for a boy she barely knew.

Even though all of what happened, Abby felt that every turn she made during their way revealing over the last three days, that every word and every choice set her on the right path. Now, maybe, she could get on the boat with Lev, Mel, and Owen, setting on her way to find the Fireflies again.

There was still the whole 'hunt Joel Miller down' matter. Abby was aware of the loose threads and unfinished business there was. It felt very unsatisfying, knowing she will most likely never get her revenge on the man. Her brain accepted the information some time ago. There was no climax to the whole hunt started by a piece of information given to her by an old Firefly named Eugene. The last four years were coming in vain. Was it even worth it at that point? Her family was broken to pieces, she had a kid to protect and once Lev leaves with Mel and Owen, she won't probably have any use no more. Well, if that would happen, she would travel back to Jackson. She would try to find Joel again. And Abby knew that once the guards on the gates will see her in the distance, she will be dead in the next minute.

It was more or less about coming to terms with how things were now. Before the mission to Jackson, she was sure that her life is already over. And she was sure that the only thing having the power to start it again was the murder of Joel Miller. The revenge murder if you will. That opinion was changed the moment she accepted Lev and Yara as her people. These two were just kids. Fucking kids in this fucked up world. And when Abby could keep them safe, why wouldn't she keep them safe? Joel Miller killed her dad and this was something she couldn't come around - but even if the old man wasn't dead, Abby tried to reconsider the things happening in the last few weeks, more importantly over the last two days.

Now, she wasn't out solely to revenge her father. She now had someone to protect. There was someone she needed to stay put for. It was a small family, it was sure as hell a broken one, but it was her family. No matter what Joel fucking Miller was doing, he was her last priority now. To be honest, Abby was just glad she's alive. And she'd be even more glad once she'll finally get out of Seattle - one way, on Owen's boat, or another, getting killed by the Jackson citizens. Abby was ready.

With the last remnants of her energy, she made sure the boat stays put before she started to wake Lev up. - “Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up.” - She whispered with a soft smile, nudging Lev’s shoulder as the boy started to massage his eyes. - “We’re at the aquarium. Come on. Let’s get dry.” - Abby arched her eyebrows, showing Lev another assuring smile. All she was trying to do was to keep Lev calm for now.

For sure, the boy will be freaking out for one way or another, but they didn’t have time for panic attacks at the moment. Slowly, they both walked back to the aquarium's back entrance, beaten up like two dogs. And Abby was fine with that. They were finally safe inside the building.

With a yawn, she was about to unlock the door leading to the improvised surgeon room, only to be met by the resistance of the wooden door, which never had happened before. Naturally, it piqued her interest. She tried to press harder, but it didn't lead anywhere. Mentioning for Lev to hide behind the corner, Abby started to smash her way inside. It took a few big blows with her shoulder before the door moved at least an inch. After a while, the barricade finally eased and fell on the ground. It was the damn ventilation shaft. Why in the hell had this fallen on the ground? Just as she furrowed upon thinking about the shaft, Lev noticed something else. His palm tugged Abby's top as his head motioned in the direction of a dead dog laying on the ground.

"Is that..." - Lev whispered with fear in his voice, walking closer to the animal. He was afraid of the WLF dogs ever since he had seen the first one. Why? These dogs were trained as weapons. WLF trained the animals to sniff unknown human scents, reacting to it in a matter of seconds - they tracked the enemies down, attacking immediately. And honestly, dogs were one of the most useful combat advances aside from grenades they had come up with. But when Lev became Mel and Owen's friend, as much as he became Abby's friend, they tried to show him that the dogs weren't just murderous animals. Alice, the German shepherd Mel was treasuring a lot, was laying there, stabbed to death.

"Yea." - Abby said simply, walking to the dog. Someone else was in the aquarium. Lev saw the act of Abby kneeling down to the dog as a goodbye ceremony. But this wasn't the situation in which Abby was showing her grief for the animal. Gently, she pulled her palm down under the dog's fur to feel the warmth of the body. To feel it a bit better, she closed her eyes, realizing that the body is almost cold. Whoever had infiltrated the aquarium was there a long time ago.

And given the dog was most likely stabbed to avoid attracting the attention of Mel and Owen, these two were in danger too. Abby gulped with her mouth dry, realizing that maybe, they arrived into the aquarium too late. Quietly, Abby tiptoed to the surgeon room, watching if the room is safe to enter before walking in to find herself some weapon. - "You stay behind me, okay?" - Abby looked the boy into his eyes, having a serious expression on her face.

"I want to help." - Lev rebelled against Abby's demand, but the woman just rolled her eyes. - "You will keep the watch over the perimeter with your bow. You see something we don't know, you hold them at gunpoint, you shoot, okay?" - Abby put her palm on the boy's shoulder, smoothing it. Yeah, he was good with a bow, and plus, she felt that he'll be safer behind her back. Nothing would get to Lev without it going through her first. With that, Lev felt some sort of usefulness, calming down.

Both of them took a second to adjust to the surroundings, peaking both their senses, preparing for whoever is awaiting them deeper inside the aquarium. When they felt ready, they moved to other rooms - they slowly searched every room. They walked through the improvised bedroom, the bathroom, some supply cabinets before they were about to enter the big room with a whale hanging from the ceiling. An iron, watery stench hit Abby's nose. It was a smell she knew perfectly - the cold smell of blood.

For a moment, she couldn't find the source. And she barely had the time to find it - because another human sped up against her, trying to take her down. Abby almost tried to stab the woman but stopped herself when she realized the woman's pregnant. The woman was Melanie. Mel who was pretty obviously freaked out. Abby stepped aside from the crying woman and pointed her palm towards Lev, letting him know that it's okay and that he should put his bow down.

One quick glance over was all to give Abby a bad gut feeling. Melanie was there, freaked out, tired out because of the hysteric crying. The gut feeling was telling Abby that she knows exactly from whom the blood stench is coming from. Yet at the moment, she had to deal with hysteric Melanie.

"It's me, hey, I'm here." - Abby tried to fidgeting, significantly smaller woman. But Melanie pushed her off while pointing her finger at Abby.

"Who the fuck you think you are?" - Melanie asked with her voice raspy from the crying, her widened eyes going from Lev to Abby and the other way around. - "This is on you, on both of you." - Mel straightened up. Abby didn't have any idea about what Melanie was talking about, but she straightened up, reminding the woman of her height.

"Every fucking time I hear 'Abby has a problem', I know it is going to bite me in my ass. And guess what, Abigail. This time, it bit everyone in the ass. Manny's dead, Nora's dead, Leah's dead, Whitney was murdered... And I can continue." - Melanie walked in a small circle, entwining her fingers in her short hair. - "Or did you get my point? Huh?" - Again, Mel pushed Abby. This time, she pushed her so hard, that Abby slipped and fell down.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." - "The whole fucking Jackson trip. That's what I'm talking about." - Melanie took in a deep breath. Lev had sat down a bit far away from them, just listening to their fight. On Abby's body language, there could be seen that her throat had clinched a bit. Jackson? How would all of this tie to Jackson? And... How could she fucking know that all of these people were killed? Sure, these people were in Jackson, but also could be just a coincidence. These people could be in a bad place at a bad time. That was all. The whole mystery.

"You were so focused on yourself that you ignored everything that was going on, weren't you? Am I even surprised?" - "Can you just fucking tell me what you're on about?" - Abby fired back, prooving Mel's point perfectly. She didn't even know that all of their friends were getting killed, she didn't know what was happening with her own fucking people. Funny. - "The girl from Jackson is here, taking out every last one of us. It's like waiting for her to check your name on the list while she stands above your corpse. And... And guess what, Abby, she's after you. And she isn't alone." - Melanie giggled. It wasn't an amused giggle. It was a sound full of despair and fear, it was a borderline cry for help.

"Why are you alive then? She's here for me, not for all the others. Maybe... Maybe she wasn't the one who killed the rest. Because you're alive, so..." - Just when Mel looked into her eyes, Abby connected the two dots. You spared Melanie's life because you took another one. At that, Abby's lungs stopped to work. She was gasping for air, turning on her side, when she saw the view hidden behind the table. She couldn't see Owen, she could see gallons of blood on the ground.

"And how do I know? She told me. She looked me dead in the eyes and told me she's here for you. And this, my dear, I think is your last stop. Because there are at least three people somewhere out there in Seattle, looking for you. And one of them is your man, Joel fucking Miller." - Melanie grinned and threw the map to Abby's legs. - "I took you a little souvenir so you can finish your suicidal mission once and for all. I'll take Lev with me and we're leaving. And you're... You're not welcomed." - Melanie hissed, looking at the boy. Abby was falling deeper and deeper into the initial shock, realizing that indeed, every word Melanie had said was true.

This was her fault. Everything was her fault. Which was pretty ironic, given the circumstances leading to this moment. Just an hour ago, Abby allowed herself to let the thing go. After four years of the rage eating her alive, she, for the first time, saw the hope around her. There was Lev for whom she wanted to do better than she was doing up to that point. Abby needed to be better for the new family she found. Just for this to happen, bringing the whole family dynamic to the ground. Joel Miller, once again, was the source of her problems.

"Mel, no, please." - Lev picked himself up, trying to plead for her taking Abby with them. But the more Abby watched the blood, the more she realized this wasn't a thing she could let go. It would find her anywhere. It would haunt her down any time. Melanie shook her head, telling Lev what she wanted to without words. - "Then I'm going with her." - Lev said and backed to Abby, who was still panicking and laying on the floor.

"You'll get yourself killed, kid. You're not going anywhere. End of the story." - Melanie told the boy and left to the upper quarters, slowly smoothing her belly. Lev was still standing there, watching as Abigail picker herself up, walking to the dead body. Shivers were running up her spine and cold sweat slowly leaked down her back. First, she saw the dried footprints in the blood and the pipe which was covered in not only blood but in the rest of what seemed to be Owen's brain. Trying to brace yourself for what she was about to see was dumb. At the moment she saw what that Jackson girl had done to him, Abby just threw up on the ground next to him. It was more or less only water, but there were things coming out of her. Melanie was right. This was all Abby's doing.

"That fucking bitch." - She muttered out, sitting on the other side, looking at the dead body. When they've captured you, you were sure one of the toughest nuts to crack. But if she'd suspect someone coming after her, it would be the Tommy man who they captured alongside you. Which happened. The Tommy man shot Manny in his face. But you? Such a fragile, scared girl? No. Abby would never suspect you'd be able to do such bullshit. She wouldn't ever think that there was a scenario in which you'd track her down, killing her friends one by one until you'd bump into her.

"Do you... Do you want to follow her?" - Lev asked silently, sitting next to her on the ground. It wasn't close enough to disrupt her personal space, but close enough to reassure her that he's there. Next to her, ready to go after the people he didn't know, fighting for a cause that didn't include him at all. Now, she was his people. In fact, she was everything that Lev was left with. And if Mel thought he'd leave Abby behind just like that, she was naïve, to say the least.

"This has nothing to do with you, kid." - "She, whoever she is, killed one of my friends. Now, it has something to do with me. I'm a part of this now." - Lev told Abby back with his head clear. This one kid was courageous. And ready for another battle. Of which Abby was hella sure. But even if she chuckled, looking down on her palms, she didn't want the kid to come. - "Listen. This... This is very personal to me. This is something that drags for the last couple of years. And it involves me, my family and something terrible. The only one who can put end to all of this is me. And I won't let you drag yourself into shit that doesn't involve you. I want you safe." - "Abby..." - "It makes me strong. You're my people now. Even Mel is... And I need to keep you both safe." - Abby whispered with tears of anger in her eyes, catching Lev's hand to hold it for a moment. She didn't know that Mel was standing above them, listening to every word that was said.

No matter what happened in the aquarium, no matter what the relationship she had with Abby and what she thought about her... This was everyone's cause now. Most importantly, you didn't seem to be the type to leave the things behind. Sure, now, you felt something resembling a closure after killing Owen. But how much time would pass before you'd feel the need to find Abby again? To find Mel and her baby? The time would come.

For that, it would be better to track you down when they had the chance, ending all of this for good. And even if Melanie hated Abby with everything she got now... Abby was right. Melanie was now her people - just like Abby was hers. No matter how she'd try to fight it, Mel didn't want to see the woman get killed because of the heat regarding Abby's stupidity. It didn't feel right to send Abby on a suicidal mission. This needed closure. Plus, honestly, Melanie needed Abby around once the baby would be born. She, the baby, and Lev needed a guardian. A literal watchdog.

"She's out of her mind." - Mel said silently, making both the people sitting on the ground looking up to her, standing in front of the quarters. - "I don't know what the girl was through, but she was off. It was like a blackout or something. She's dangerous. I'm terrified of her." - Mel said honestly, walking the stairs down. - "Can you go up and pack some things for me?" - Melanie smiled at Lev. Abby looked at the boy, sending him off upstairs. - "And you, come here. I don't wanna look at the..." - Melanie breathed out, still being shaken by what happened.

Mel wasn't over it at all, not a fucking chance. Her partner was brutally murdered. And she witnessed every second of it. Every. Fucking. Second. Yet... This world didn't offer them enough time to seek closure within themself, it didn't give them the time to grieve properly. Not until everything was said and done. Abby nodded at the pregnant woman's request, picking herself up from the ground.

"Listen." - Mel said quietly while leading Abby through the aquarium's interior. - "You're a fucking selfish asshole and dear Lord, I just want to punch you sometimes. And what happened between you and Owen at the boat last night peaked all of those feelings. But... How do you say it? Even if I didn't choose it voluntarily, you're now my people. That's something I have to deal with and it will take months, maybe years. But the fact is that I need you because I cant take care of myself out there once the baby will be born. This concludes in a fact - I can't let you get yourself killed while going after these people." - She stopped, looking Abby in the eyes. And with an expression showing gratefulness, Abby smiled back at her. - "We're not friends, at least not for now. Not a fucking a chance. But we're coming after them together because I'm scared of them coming back for us." - Melanie whispered. And without anything foreshadowing it, Abby hugged her, finally starting to cry into Mel's clothes.

There was too much pressure for Abby to handle - you and your people, Owen's death, Yara's murder, the whole conflict at the island proving to her as a bunch fo brainwashing lies which Isaac spoonfeed each of them, resolving in everyone's death. Melanie's cold honestly was something Abby needed bad. Melanie didn't like her, not at that point, and she was straightforward about it. At least someone was honest with Abby the whole fucking time.

"They will pay. Every last one of them. I swear." - Abby let Melanie go, carefully maneuvering her palms around Melanie's belly. - "That's the spirit." - Melanie grinned back. This was noticeably out of Mel's character. Abby honestly never seen her wishing death upon anyone except the Scars - which was excusable because the foundation in that behavior was based on Isaac's brainwashing program. Now, she was willingly after someone else, who was just a part of Abby's fuckery. Yet as Lev told Abby, this was now Melanie's cause too. The woman had the right to feel outraged towards the Jacksoners at that point. They killed her baby daddy.

No-one was left behind. Abby, after observing the map, knew the theatre which was marked as the 'hideout'. She knew precisely where the location was. Each of them set on the way during a stormy night, clothed up to stay warm against the stormy weather. Their way through the city was quick because no-one was really there. Everyone was on the island, fighting the dispute they've been told that is the main center of their existence. When Abby or Mel didn't know where to go, Lev showed them the safest way and otherwise. They kept an eye for each other and Mel was helped a lot, so they'd be sure that nothing happens to her or the baby.

It was two hours from the moment they've left the aquarium when Abby saw the theatre in the distance. It was lit up, so someone was definitely out there. The feeling she carried in her chest was fucking heavy. So fucking heavy. She wanted to shoot each of you dead, but on the other hand, she knew this could go extremely bad. Melanie was pregnant and Lev was just a fucking kid. And for a reason, now she found out there are reasons to be happy for even if she didn't murder Joel, it felt foolish to come there to kill you. It was too much of a risk. On the other hand, she promised Mel that she'd see you suffer for what you've done. There was no point in stopping.

"Now, we have to find our way inside." - Mel noted quietly upon arriving to the building. They've just tried the main door, gently, to find out if it was blocked. Of course, it was. You weren't that dumb. - "I think I have something." - Lev looked at both of them, waving at them. It was an escape staircase. That kid had eyes of the falcon because to spot it in the darkness was kind of amazing.

It was the final moment before the big climax Abby had dreamed of for so long. And she almost had to laugh at the pathetic thoughts she had. She was afraid to enter the building. Who knew what waited for them inside? Will any of them walk out of the building alive? Will any of these three people survive? Or will all of the Jacksoners be killed in bloodshed? Well, there was only one way to find out. And with that, Abby opened the window which was pre-opened by a bright yellow cable leading onto the rooftop. And so, she stepped on her final journey towards the presumed saving of her damned soul.

#abby anderson #abby's pov #abby the last of us #abby and lev #abby tlou #lev the last of us #melanie the last of us #mel the last of us #owen moore #owen the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller imagine #tommy miller #tommy the last of us #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine #the last of us part two #oh fuck here we go #the climax is approaching #well... almost #the next chapter is going to be a surprise for you #i swear #and for the abby haters #do not be angry at this chapter #I didn't plan on it at all #but she's just a human #and I felt that she needed at least some space

[gautierprotectionsquad]

Saint and the Sinner by Sam Burns review (contains spoilers)

Book 4 of the Wilde Love series.

I don’t know why i call these reviews. they’re more like reactions. I end up spending a large part of this post angry ranting about Brendan Quinn.

I thought this book might take place around the same time as book 2. At least chapter 1 is a scene that happened in book 2 in Owen’s pov. Also, great chapter title. “Owen Gets a Prologue, Sort Of.” I never mention them but the chapter titles for these books are pretty good. Not so much for book 3 bc book 3 was sad.

I headcanonned Owen as demiromantic and Mickey as demisexual before reading this book. I don’t really headcannon them as that anymore.

I’m glad there’s a barista showing concern for him. I love how this series gives it’s extras so much life within the story. They aren’t just bystanders, they’re people.

Oh wow. Mickey kissed him. Within the first chapter. How long has mickey been harboring those feelings? I do not mind a sex scene in chapter 1. Such a good sex scene.

“I have feelings.” He was terrified for a moment that Owen was saying he had feelings for him, and that would be the end of him. “And I show them all the time. Is that a problem?” Dude are you fking stupid? Owen’s had feelings for you since forever. You knows he’s been into you since he was 13.

wAIT. Mickey just assumed Key knew he was bi? OWEN had to be the one to tell him his brother had no clue? I honestly don’t know who’s stupider, mickey or key. When we first met mickey, liam said he was straight too. Are all his friends just assuming he’s straight bc he was dating Amy or is he just living life as he is but never explicitly saying he’s bi and just assuming his friends would figure it out? Like a part of me thinks he just doesn’t tell his friends stuff.

Also, damn owen. He definitely loves knowing he has that kinda power over mickey’s dick now.

I’m a bit worried that mickey is the guy brendan quinn has in mind as his replacement. Damn just confirmed right after i typed that. fuuuuck.

“You will be okay, O. No matter what, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

So this is the first book where the conflicts do get in the way of the relationship. Both are dealing with an internalized and some external conflict (mostly mickey) at the prospect of actually being together and Mickey wants to back out. I mean, technically Jake also had the internal conflict of his grief and sexuality preventing him from asking Brian out but that’s not the same. Mickey and Owen have already slept together, but emotional feelings haven’t really been talked about and i don’t think either of them are going to talk about it honestly bc owen doesn’t want to scare mick away and mick doesn’t think he deserves nice things. Book 1 and 2, the lovers decide they like each other and that they want to keep them fairly quickly. Nothing gets in their way or convinces them they should “let them go” or whatever despite things trying to get in their way like an ex or the moral dilemma of dating someone while undercover. Mick, on the other hand, is trying to push Owen away. While trying not to be a dick.

So many romance novel protagonists, when trying to push their loved one away, DO try and succeed in being a dick.

“It had been the most amazing kiss, and the worst thing that had ever happened to Owen. After it, he’d been sure of two things. The first was that Mickey had feelings for him too. The second was that Mickey never intended to kiss him again.” Just like what I said. This type of angst wasn’t in the previous books. It’s like book 1 and 2 were almost identical and then Sam Burns decided to spice it up a bit.

“Or the fact that I hate writing research papers, even though I like doing research.” BITCH FUCKING SAME!

THE ANGST. Dammit Brenden Quinn. Why’d you have to say “you’re the boss.” In front of your son! “Mickey was pretty sure his leg wasn’t what was in danger of getting broken in this mess.” AAAHHH. BRENDEN FUCK YOU. he did it on purpose! HE KNEW. Asshole.

Maybe he just noticed Mick staring longingly, not that Owen loved him back or that they’ve kissed/slept together? He’s still a major asshole, crushing the heart of a guy who is family to him.

What’s the point of being supportive of them being gay if you hate every guy they choose for themselves and are the reason behind almost every breakup?

Mick’s chosen to talk to keegan about his problems. Good but also. God he’s so bad at-Couldn’t have softened the blow a little? Jesus. Key already knew he’s supposed to be the new boss and key’s the best person to talk to about that but the Owen situation. Thank you keegan for giving me a satisfying hilarious response. And telling him what he needed to hear. Love that Keegan is basically like “WOW good for Owen!”

So keegan’s vote is 1) you don’t want to be the boss anyway (so i guess he’s telling him to tell Brendan no?) 2) totally cool with you dating my brother. He’s an adult and can make his own choices. Don’t break it off bc you feel like he deserves better or whatever other stupid exuses you have. I love Keegan.

“For a fraction of a second, there was something that resembled real sadness in the old man’s eyes, but it disappeared almost as soon as he saw it.” So you feel bad now?

“Owen frowned. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to get a rise out of her. He wanted her to be angry. It didn’t make sense. Did he want her to be angry with him, or Mickey? “I slept with him.” God, Owen and Mick are so alike.

So Litty’s saying that Mick’s not like his father’s other thugs so Owen shouldn’t be treating him like one? That he shouldn’t be mad at him for working for his father. I think he’s allowed to be a little mad though bc Mick hates it. He’s only doing it bc he feels like he has to, that he has no choice. But i guess Owen has to learn to be ok with the idea that he might be the boss and choose to not care, to love him anyway. The way Joe doesn’t care that Keegan used to be a gangster or that he loves his dad despite the crime. The way Alex chose to love Liam even if he was in the mafia even though he didn’t really have to go through that moral dilemma bc Liam was actually a cop.

“Owen had always thought Mickey was working for his father because he didn’t think he had another choice. Surely, if he was going to be the man in charge, he had to know that he had all the choice. He did. Right?”

Is he going to invite Mick to hawaii with him?

They are both so fucking insecure jesus christ. Especially Mick which is what’s causing all this mess.

Hey mickey? Maybe don’t kiss a boy after you tried to break off any kind of relationship you could have had with him? Mickey should be more considerate of Owen’s emotions. He knows Owen has loved him since he was a teenager and he keeps breaking this poor kid’s heart because he keeps convincing himself he’s not good enough for him while still being too tempted to completely pull away.  “You can’t jerk me around like this. Make up your mind, dammit.” YEAH funicking tell him!

“I like people who aren’t afraid of me. Who tell me when I’m being a jackass.”

“You’re being a jackass.”

HAHA! Mickey actually says what he wants!

Ah shit they’re interrupted by the boss. Owen’s going to be so fucking mad when he finds out his dad has been encouraging Mick’s self loathing. Fucker.

Owen’s turn to talk to keegan.

So basically this book’s main conflict is Mick and Brendan’s self hatred. Hey Dudes! GET OVER YOURSELVES!

“And as long as Mickey was around their father every single day, there wasn’t a damn thing Owen could do to shake that hold, he was sure. The old man would call, Mickey would answer, and any progress Owen made would be lost.” So Owen is going to take him to hawaii? Oh. it’s more evil than that. He’s not inviting him. He’s going to trick him into thinking he’s in danger. And Keegan’s going to help.

So despite trying to pull them apart from each other, he can see his son wants mick still. That makes him more of an ass.  LET your children BE HAPPY goddammit. No you don’t know what’s best for them. Stop trying to ruin shit for them.

“Going to take him to Europe and lose his passport so he can’t come back to work?” Owen scowled. That was actually kind of clever. He wondered if it would have worked.” pfft.

No, i’m still mad at his dad though. He knew how his son felt about Mick and about the business and encouraged Mick to go deeper into it and acts like it’s ineffable just bc he thinks Mick and him are alike. You told Mick with your own words that you think Owen deserves better. You shut Mick down before he could even ask to date your son. Don’t you think you’re taking part in making him feel unworthy, in making him feel like he can’t be reformed? You knew your son was never going to want anyone else and you still pushed them apart bc you thought you knew better. It’s understandable for Owen to not hate him but I’m going to hate him.

So even though his dad kind of approved of Owen trying to take Mick away and win him over, they’re still going with their plan to trick Mick instead of simply having his dad not force Mick to his side and actually start telling him nice things and start -i don’t know- Stop trying to keep his son away from what he wants. What’s with the talk of him possibly never going to be able to come back home?

Pfft. so literally all he had to do was leave at an odd time and that was enough to freak Mick out? HAHAHAHAHA. I mean everything else is pretty standard and Keegan actually tried to ease his worry by telling him he was going on vacation (which he is). I thought the plan was keegan was going to call pretending to be worried about Owen on his trip, maybe lie and say some russians were there. Nope. What he did was completely normal, he just left at an odd time and took all his favorite stuff on his trip with him (which is...normal?). The only thing off is that he didn’t tell anyone about it. (except he did tell keegan. keegan just didn’t mention that.) Mickey’s such a mother hen for owen. He should have been hired as Owen’s bodyguard. Lord knew, he needed one in school. He did get bullied.

Now i’m thinking of an au where Mick was hired as owen’s bodyguard instead of hired to do errands.

“...Brendan...was watching him with something like curiosity.” so brendon is finally seeing it? The love and care and worry Mick has for his son?

For the first time in his life, Mickey’s patience with Brendan Quinn ran out. “With all due respect, sir, don’t you think Owen is more important than any of that?”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” Brendan countered. “Are you telling me that he is to you? More important than your job? Your future?”

Brendan’s testing him. He wants him to put his son before his work. He’s being difficult on purpose. I can understand the “being difficult and disapproving to force their child’s lover to have to prove themselves worthy of their kid” trope but this is different. Brendon’s known Mick for most of his life and encouraged him to go into a path that he knew would taint him when he could have gotten him legitimate work. I feel like it’s unfair. Yeah, Mick needed to learn to tell the old man to fuck off and choose Owen above Brendan but i feel like Brendan was playing unfair.

The classic run to the airport because you realized you’re in love and you’re scared you’re never going to see them again.

I feel like i’m missing the point/not meeting the book where it’s at. The book is leading me somewhere but I’m not following it. I’ve felt it since that “heart to heart” between Owen and his dad. When his dad finally conceded a bit and encouraged Owen to go after what he wants. I’m still holding it against Brendan bc I feel like this conflict is all his fault. I blame Brendan for breaking his son’s heart by giving the empire to someone he knew his son was in love with, knowing how much his son hated the business. But the story is treating it like the conflict is mostly Mick’s fault, which, some of it is, but Mick might not feel as undeserving if it wasn’t for Brendan. If Brendan weren’t so fucking difficult to deal with, there wouldn’t be so much less conflict.

I wish Owen and Mick got to communicate with each other more. I don’t know how close this book is to ending but I’m going to leave this book disappointed if it ends soon bc these idiots spent most of it away from each other and didn’t talk about what they wanted enough. I mean, they had sex, then Mick pushed him away, then owen found out mick was the new boss, then owen avoided him for a while, then mick kissed him and told him what he wanted but owen couldn’t say anything back bc brendan called, then owen went on his trip and mick is following bc he loves him. I didn’t really get to see them spend time with each other that much.

You don’t give something to a poor kid who has never asked for anything in his life and then ask him for 10x more and expect him to not say yes to everything and only agree to what he wants too. Brendan talks about mick’s criminality like it’s who he is and not something brendan forced him to do. Mick never felt like he had a choice in the matter. Brendan built his empire from the ground up bc he wanted it. MICK DOESN’T WANT THIS. He is NOT Brendan! he feels sick to his stomach doing this work and only says yes to you cause you never let him know he could say no. i wanted brendan to feel guilty. Instead he’s probably going to die and the book is going to treat it like it’s all sad and i’m going to be PISSED. Bc you dont get to mold a kid into a criminal than hold that against him when he finally says he WANTS something.

The book is not looking at the full picture it painted. It’s not judging brendan for the choices he’s made. It’s not examining them. It’s not blaming him. It’s a dick move to ask so much from mick and then shut him down before he could even ask to date your son when he has never asked you for anything. And then hold stuff  YOU MADE HIM DO against his character. WTF. he only ever asked for something once and you told him to his face that he didn’t deserve it.

Brendan better not die before Mick gets to say to his face that he never wanted any of this. That he only ever worked for him bc he felt like he owed him. That the only thing mick and brendan have in common is a love for family and loyalty and a love for Owen and Keegan.

It’s kind of frustrating the way Owen and Mick talk about Mick continuing to work for Brendan. He doesn’t want to keep working the business bc he actually enjoys it; He just doesn’t think he’s qualified to do anything else. He never got a chance to figure out what he wants to do with his life. He doesn’t like his job. Owen has to keep saying that he’s fine with Mick still working for his dad if he wants-owen isn’t going to force him to quit-but it’s just so frustrating bc this is with the assumption that Mick wants that.

Okay. i just needed to let out my anger. Let’s pretend brendan doesn’t exist or matter or has ever had any affect on the decisions made by mick.

“This was the trip Mickey had talked about taking for years, since he was a kid. And Owen was taking him—had tricked him into it” this is actually really sweet.

God he should have pulled the prank on him pretending he forgot the condoms. I could just imagine the reaction; it would have been so funny!

Since they’ve already been in love with each other before the book started the last words aren’t going to be their first i love you’s in the story like the previous books.

“We could be married. If you wanted.”  They both froze.  “Mickey?” Owen whispered. “Did you just half-assed ask me to marry you in a swimsuit shop?”  “May-be?”

I can’t believe he said marry me before he said i love you.

“Fuck, O, I love you so much.” 7 pages after.

They get to spend a lot of time together thanks to this trip. It’s very cute.

He DOESN’T. He’s just a pessimistic ass who doesn’t say out loud how much he hates it and doesn’t think himself capable of doing anything else. The book’s solution is to have Mick working for Brendan’s legitimate construction company but I don’t think that’s a real answer? The REAL answer would be to give Mick a chance to figure out what he’s passionate about; to finally accept that he’s worthy of getting the things he wants and to not think so lowly of himself. He’s not a poor kid desperate for money and food anymore and hasn’t been for a long time. Plus Keegan and Owen would totally be ok with supporting him financially while he gets the qualifications to do what he wants. He needs to learn that he can ask for and accept help without having to pay anyone back. He’s allowed to want things.

It just feels weird that book 1 was about Alex, who quit law school and got disowned so that he could crash on his friend’s couch with nothing but the clothes on his back and his philosophy textbooks bc he reached for what he was actually passionate about and here we are, the last book in the series, and the topic of Mick trying to find something he’s passionate about isn’t even discussed or explored at all. This book’s conflict is more than just Mick wanting to be with Owen but feeling like he owes Brendan and needs to do what Brendan wants. Wanting to be with Owen but working as a criminal. It’s about Mick not being able to accept any act of kindness without feeling like he has to pay them back tenfold. It’s about him feeling like he’s not allowed to want for anything because he’s already been given more than he thinks he deserves.

yeah he’s accepting a ceo position for brendan’s construction company but does he want that? Or does he just want to work a legal job and he would

have accepted it no matter what it was (except working at Wilde’s bc that would be too easy). Is he accepting it without argument bc he feels like he can ask for this or bc Brendan’s just handing it to him and it’s no different than continuing to say yes to whatever Brendan wants-it’s just now he’s saying no to illegal stuff.

“Plus, if he’s halfway out, it’s not crushing his soul the same way, right?” It’s this shit right here! Mick never says he doesn’t want to work for Brendan bc it’s crushing his soul, because he hates killing, because he doesn’t WANT to, out loud. He says it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt Owen. “I don’t want Owen to get a visit saying I’m not coming home. I don’t want him to see my face all over the news if I get busted and put away. I want him to be happy.” That’s what he says when he’s asked why he wants to quit the business. And it’s really frustrating??? At least Brendan finally acknowledged that Mick and he are not the same, that Brendan would kill his best friend to reach a goal but Mick wouldn’t kill his. Except Mick would rather not kill anyone if he can avoid it.

Anyway we’re close to the end. We’ve got a wedding scene.

“She snorted and rolled her eyes in disgust.“Yeah, but they thought you were straight. So now they just think everybody’s bisexual, especially if they want it to be true.” gross.

“Poor thing was so embarrassed when he started leering at your brother that he apologized to me.” dude

“Holy hell,” Keegan whispered. “You’re really in love with my brother.”\Mickey peered up at him. Was he kidding? In fact, Keegan

looked completely sincere. “Um, duh? I better love him. We’re getting married in, like, five minutes.” asdfghjklkjhgfds

We get a domestic shopping scene and christmas. Mick is happy with the office job he has. And Owen’s still trying to figure out what to do with his degree since no fbi agency would accept him bc of his crime family. Based no that domestic shopping scene and “He didn’t even know who’d done the decorating in the Quinn house. Wilkes, probably. Whoever it was, they’d done a magnificent job.” this, Owen might become an interior decorator? With a criminal justice degree.

Mick to key about jon “You’re dating Mister Rogers.”

“Heh. Mickey’s husband.” same energy as “heh. Wife” - vespa ilkay

“Jon was unreasonably pleased with the personalized monogrammed handkerchiefs that Mickey bought him, and he even had a smile for Brendan when the man told him that his gift was that he hadn’t bought the fed “a damned thing.”

“Owen gave Keegan a copy of the Kama Sutra as a joke, and was horrified when Keegan gave him a satisfied smile, handed it back to him, and told him he already had one.” hold on. “The Kama Sutra is an ancient Indian Sanskrit text on sexuality, eroticism and emotional fulfillment in life. Attributed to Vātsyāyana, the Kama Sutra is neither exclusively nor predominantly a sex manual on sex positions, but written as a guide to the art of living well, the nature of love, finding a life partner, maintaining one's love life, and other aspects pertaining to pleasure-oriented faculties of human life” ok.

Mick never killed jimmy. He mentioned at the beginning of the book that he lied to the old man a lot. This is what he meant. Brendan would order someone dead and he’d find a way to not do that while still making it look like he did what the boss wanted.

Brendan died not from sickness but he got shot on the job. Died trying to do the right thing. Penny, the asshole who kidnapped Alex in the first book, is out of jail and is the new boss of the mafia crime business.

The Quinn family house gets turned into “The Brendan Quinn Shelter for Homeless LGBT Teens.” COOL!

Last words are I love you.

THE END

#long post #romanticsap #sam burns #saint and the sinner #mlm books #lgbt books #romance books #reaction #reviews #reading

[nerexchan666]

Why Tlou2 isn’t a good game

First I want to start with rants and opinions of gameplay channels (I had to type all these down while listening. They’re not in any way manipulated,if u want, u can watch the videos urself)

pewdiepie:

''everything was a mess''

''the game had a lot of potential to be good''

''would i play it again? no i wouldn’t.''

''they tried something different and i don’t think it really worked.''

''it didn’t fit the last of us''

''half the game was abby...its fucking crazy''

''give it a rating? uhhh...probably like a 6 out of 10. I’m not really passionate about this shit''

tyler1:

''joel's not stupid''

''okay i understand Ellie not killing Abby cuz she was in such a shitty spot,but why would the devs even do that?''

''no body gets a moment except for Abby''

''this entire game was such a waste of fucking time, don’t even make the third one.''

''this shit was so sad to play''

''there was no progress made anywhere,you’re just running back and forth''

''why did we play as abby for so long''

''why was i forced to beat the shit out of Ellie as Abby''

''this whole game is a fucking message''

''sex scenes were out of place,you just added it to add it''

''you should be ashamed of yourselves,devs''

''i don’t like how stupid the characters were, you develop characters and in the end they do something the opposite''

''(the part in aquarium when they forgot the map) you’re telling me TOMMY,okay i understand ellie might forget cuz it was her first time killing a pregnant woman, she MIGHT forget,lets give it a benefit of the doubt,Tommy is not a dumbass, never in the million years would he forget it (the map) and it was right by her feet''

''they’re not stupid''

''joel is almost 60 years old,he survived for 40+ or 30+ years,and he's that dumb? oh get the fuck out of here''

''same way when earlier in the game,when joel and tommy,again they were apparently biggest fucking idiots in the game, followed two random people into a trap, and joel dies. bullshit''

''you’re gonna throw all that away and have joel be a fucking r*t*rd?''

''and then tommy,who is his equal? absolutely not.''

''a second game in the series, from how good the first one was,to this game right here,this might be actually the worst game i ever played.''

''1 out of 10, simply because it ran''

''they literally shit all over ellie for no reason''

''(while playing as abby) literally fucked up my mood''

sodapoppin:

''the beginning of the game was god tier,because we had joel and ellie and other characters''

''and then we play as the fridge. Nothing in those 12 hours had anything to do with ellie or joel''

''it was just a bunch of i don’t give a fuck about whos and side quests''

''i really don’t give a fuck i’m sorry''

''they started with a 10 out of 10 game and converted to 2 out of 10''

''ellie and fridge have a fight,hype as fuck,NO ONE DIES,tommy who is a badass,,,THEY SHOT HIM IN THE HEAD''

''playing as fridge i cared so little,i literally tried to speedrun it''

''the ending was good,but i would’ve changed it a lot. Made it more about ellie''

theradbrad:

''i didn’t like when she was holding dina down,ellie told her she was pregnant and she said good,if lev wasn’t there..

i feel like,,,i don’t want a good ending for abby at all''

''i still feel no attachment to abby like i do with ellie''

''I feel like they were trying to make you feel bad for her (like manipulation)''

''we didn’t know Joel was going to die hours into the game in such a way that’s so unlike him''

''i felt like they wanted to make abby's portions of the game more memorable, by making them better. Doesn't mean the character's better''

''they put a lot of the most exciting parts of the game,the haven being burned down,the horse ride out of there,that alone was more exciting

than anything in ellie's portion''

''i personally didn’t like abby's character,i like some stuff she did besides killing joel''

''and i didn’t like any of her friends. I didn't care when owen died,i hated when pregnant girl had to die''

''i cared for jesse,he was probably the most underrated character in the entire game''

''i don’t like what happened to any character. One character i didn't feel bad for was abby's dad,like joel killing her dad.. good. And ellie should've at least appreciated that and i think she slowly realized towards the end of the game: Joel did this for me''

''but after everything is over,she let her (abby) live. We all wanted her to die,but i had a feeling something like that wasn't going to be the case''

''but i think she beat her down good''

''did i like it? i did like some events of the game,i didn’t like some characters,i didn't like abby, i liked her story,i didn't like the fact that she killed joel,like i didn't like her from the jump,but over time i like that she helped lev''

''how joel died was so uncharacteristic. He didn't trust anyone in the first game,he wouldn't even give out his name,he was driving over people with a truck''

''the game wanted me to feel bad for abby but i don't care about her. I cared more about what happened to lev''

''the game wasn't bad''

now, here are some videos that are worth watching:

also,AngryJoe has a good video about the last of us 2, check that out as well. My point is, people blatantly defending this game are in denial. ‘’You are manipulated to like joel!!!!’’ no. What they gave showed us about Joel in the first game served as a backstory as to why is Joel the way he is. He doesn’t trust anyone, isn’t attached to anyone simply because if they die and he cared about them,it would once again destroy him. The only person he trusted the most was Tess (and tommy),yet we see Tess sacrifice herself and we clearly see how upset Joel is over her death. It’s basic storytelling.The giraffe part of the game served as a small break from the dark stuff that keeps happening. It was a small moment of joy and peace for both Ellie and Joel (The giraffe symbolizes grace, peace, individuality, protection, communication). I’d say they’re manipulating us to like Abby,a very disliked character because of her actions. They’re showing her in a better light than Ellie (example below):

‘‘But that’s just some gaming channels, only the minority dislike the game!!!’‘ Nope.

these are just some comments out of thousands and thousands of other that voice their displeasure (last one was about the vaccine and how killing Ellie is pointless).

The sales have dropped by 80%, many MANY people are selling their copies on various sites,because they realized the leaks were true and the story is a complete mess. (It’s mostly japanese players that are selling their copies, so u could say they’re least satisfied).

Is the game bad? yes, in some ways. Is it complete trash? no. The graphics are out of this world, voice acting is absolutely amazing. 

This is not an attack to people who enjoyed this game, this serves as an example and explanation as to why people dislike this game.

It’s definitely not a 10/10 game. It has a lot of flaws. It’s more like 5/10 or weak 6/10. I personally didn’t enjoy 90% of the game. I was p stoked when it got announced. After i found out about the leaks (which was just joel’s death, nothing else) i still gave this game and the devs a benefit of the doubt. 

p.s. review bombing this game with positive scores doesn’t make u any better than those who review bombed it with negative scores. And don’t attack actors because of this game, especially Laura Bailey (Abby’s actor).

(if i made any mistakes, my bad, i’m not a native english speaker)

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #joel miller #ellie williams #dina #tlou part 2 #abby anderson #video games #gaming #the last of us part two #tlou2 #tlou part ii