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#and yeah then went to list all the people Caleb connected to in that way anyway
luckthebard · 3 years
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The campaign wrap-up was so interesting in that it basically wasn't moderated - meaning we got an often wildly tangential conversation covering things that cast had on their minds and thought to bring up in that particular conversation.
And it showed off some of the disconnect between what the cast were actively wondering about and what the collective fandom has been interested in in some interesting ways.
I also thought it was interesting to notice which players were more likely to not want to explain certain things than others. Matt was the most obvious in his reasoning for giving "vague" answers, but I noticed that there were things that Travis, Taliesin, and Liam also sort of shied away from fully explaining or defining, and seemed to want to leave up to audience interpretation.
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sylvies-chen · 3 years
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You Make Me Feel So Young
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Summary: Tim shows up at Lucy's apartment after struggling with some guilt, and finally gets that dance she'd saved for him.
Warnings: none
Words: 2.6K
A/N: For day 1 of the Chenford Fanfic Week 2021 organized by @therookiebook!! I'm so excited to participate, I hope you guys like this oneshot <3
AO3 link
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He feels guilty.
Lucy knows he does, even before he tells her. After everything at Angela’s wedding went down, after she and Jackson had been taken and nearly died, after the dust had settled from that entire stressful day, Lucy can feel the guilt oozing out of him.
Only Tim Bradford shows up at her door to talk about it, and it’s about the last thing she expects to happen.
Like, ever.
“Hey,” he blurts out as soon as she opens the door.
“Hi.” Lucy doesn’t know what to say but she knows the hand that’s holding onto the edge of her door feels numb all of a sudden and her breath gets caught in her throat.
“Can I come in?” Tim asks, trying to seem nonchalant. Lucy sees right through it, knows that him coming here alone, out of the blue, must mean something’s wrong. But she doesn’t say anything because she knows Tim takes a while sometimes to be able to open up. So instead, she nods.
“Yeah, of course.” Jackson’s out, so she lets Tim in without hesitation. Not that it’d matter if he were here, really, but she sees that broken, guilt-ridden look in Tim’s eyes and knows it’s best that they’re alone.
He plays it cool at first— out of self-preservation, she thinks— and looks around the apartment as she lets him in.
“This place looks a lot nicer than the last time I saw it,” he starts out.
“Yeah, well Cujo’s not around to tear up pillows anymore so I’d say it’s a big improvement,” she jokes meekly.
His hands are shoved in his pockets stiffly as he walks around her living room, glancing over to Jackson’s bedroom.
“Jackson’s not here?”
“No, he went to check up on Angela. I’m surprised you aren’t there too,” she adds.
“Why’s that?”
“Because it’s where you’ve been for the past week,” Lucy explains simply, glancing at him expectantly and waiting for him to talk. Not this kind of talk, not small talk or dancing around what he really needs to get off his chest, but for him to actually, really talk.
All does is stand by her couch, less than ten feet away from her, and avoid her gaze. She swears she can see his fists tensing up in the pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t realize you were keeping track.”
“I wasn’t.” She was . “I just know how worried you were about her when she was taken. I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave her side.”
“Just making up for what I didn’t do the first time, I guess,” he grumbles under his breath.
Lucy sighs, cutting their small talk short and getting to the point. “Why are you really here, Tim?”
Her bluntness surprises him, she thinks, because he blinks at her. “What?”
“Why are you here?” She repeats. “You’ve never shown up at my place randomly while off shift. Hell, I didn’t even think you’d remembered I live here. I know this past week has been intense but clearly you need something or else you wouldn’t have come here. So would you just tell me whatever it is you want to say so that I can help you?”
He exhales quietly, his chest shaking as it falls. “It’s my fault. Angela and Jackson nearly died, she nearly lost her baby, they were put in danger at her own damn wedding, and it’s… it’s my fault.”
“No, no,” she replies sympathetically, shaking her head. “It’s not. What happened to them happened because of La Fiera, not you.”
“I was her man of honour,” he explains with a dry and slightly sarcastic chuckle. “Where’s the honour in failing to protect the bride?”
“If you really felt that, you wouldn’t have come here. You knew,” she tells him, her voice determined and fierce. “You knew I wouldn’t let you sit here and feel sorry for yourself. If you wanted to sit around feeling sorry for yourself you would have gone to a bar, alone. But you came here, which means somewhere deep down you know you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”
For one of the only times since Lucy’s known him, Tim Bradford is speechless. He looks for words but finds none, huffs, and sits down on her couch, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Her heart sinks at the sight of it. This guilt of his isn’t going away with anything she says, she knows that now. Healing takes time, so all she can really do is just be there for him.
She sits down next to him on the couch, leaving only an inch of space. “You don’t have to carry the weight of everything, you know,” she continues gently. “You take on so much, you don’t always have to feel so responsible for every bad thing that happens. That’s no way to live.”
“I’m a cop,” he shrugs painfully. “I became a cop because I wanted to keep helping people, protecting them. So sure, it might make me a more serious person, but I do it because it’s supposed to be what I do best.”
“I get that. But no one’s perfect. I’m not perfect, even with all of your Tim tests,” she teases meekly. “That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. You fought hard to get both of them back and you did. You did that. Angela’s home now, she and the baby are safe and alright. That’s what matters.”
He looks at her, stunned but greatly appreciative. “Thanks,” he offers, slightly begrudgingly, after a moment. “I just... thanks .”
“I think I have something of yours,” she tells him gently, changing the subject to lighten the mood. Because if she can’t assuage his guilt then at the very least, she can make him feel better; feel happy again.
Tim’s brows scrunch up, sending a confused look her way. Lucy wordlessly moves to pull out her phone, connecting it to the small wireless speaker on the coffee table. The buttons crisply click as she turns up the volume, pressing play on the first ballad she finds in her list of varied songs. (But her taste in music isn’t actually as diverse as she’d like and is really just filled with K-pop tracks).
The music streams through the speaker and throughout the apartment, audible but still quiet so as not to disturb the other tenants. Tim stays seated as Lucy stands up, still confused but shifting to the edge of his seat as if being drawn to her by an unnamed force.
Lucy finally extends her open palm, giving him a shy but cheeky grin. “Your dance, Officer Bradford?”
Realization hits and Tim’s shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, I’m not in the mood for dancing right now.”
“Come on,” she pleads. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. Or, at the very least, it’ll give you something to tease me about at work.”
Tim gives a hearty chuckle, smiling widely as he accepts her hand. It makes Lucy smile too. Why shouldn’t it? He’s always so surly and serious, making him laugh would make anyone proud and giddy. Right?
“Alright. After you, Officer Chen,” he replies as she pulls him off the couch and onto the rug in her living room. His hand is warm. They’re calloused, and bigger than hers to the point where her fingers get swallowed up in his as he gives her hand a squeeze. But god, they’re so warm and safe . Her mind can’t stop coming back to that observation, no matter how much she knows she shouldn’t.
Tim’s other hand finds her waist, his grip gentle. Her hand flies to his chest, pulling him in until her chin is inches away from resting on his shoulder.
Up until now, space hasn’t really been an issue for them. The only time there’d been this much physical contact between them was last year when Caleb had buried her alive. Even then, the situation had allowed for a special exception. She’d needed all the physical and emotional support she could get at that moment, and Tim had provided it for her.
Now though, there's no exception, no special circumstance, no excuse. They’re dancing while wrapped up in each other solely because they want to be, and that change is enough to terrify Lucy. She doesn’t move though, only keeps swaying to the music and letting out small, shaky breaths.
What can she say? She never was one to back down from something that scared her.
“You’re a good dancer,” Lucy points out quietly.
“You’re not half bad yourself,” he replies, his breath catching onto her neck and sending a delightful shiver down her spine.
“Is it safe to say you’re enjoying yourself? You feel more relaxed, I daresay you’re having fun,” she tries teasing.
“I’m just surprised,” he counters. “I was prepared for my toes to endure some serious stomping.”
“Oh please, like my tiny toes could ever harm you.” Her nose scrunches playfully as she feigns a threatening look, which makes Tim smile again. What is it with that smile of his killing her softly?
“I don’t know, you’re a lot tougher than you look.”
“Was that a compliment?” She asks teasingly.
“Don’t tell Nova, she’ll get jealous,” he jokes back, continuing to sway to the music.
“Yeah but I bet she’d love this,” Lucy remarks. In her head, she adds that the line between herself and Nova is getting blurred but it goes unspoken and, eventually, ignored.
“Nova’s not the only one,” he risks replying. “You’re right. This is… nice .”
Tim leans back a little to meet her eye, the swaying decelerating until they’re standing in her living room. Alone. With an intense and inviting gaze piercing into her eyes.
“It is,” Lucy agrees. Her voice is barely audible and before she can think twice, she blurts out probably the worst thing she could ever think of: the thing she means with every fiber of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
She really does mean it. She wants to stay there forever, where everything feels good and safe and right . Only she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, per se. To her surprise though, he doesn’t react poorly to it. Instead, he flashes the smallest smile and nods in agreement, swallowing hard. "Me too."
He looks so young like that, something juvenile and exciting radiating off of him like a breath of fresh air. For a second, she almost thinks he’s the same age as her.
And oh fuck , something just clicks after that.
His lips part only slightly, his eyes glimmering with something intense and hopeful. Her skin is on fire, her heart is racing, and every neuron in her brain is telling her to look away but she can’t. She can’t escape his eyes. Lucy doesn’t know what this thing between them is, only that one minute, they’re dancing and the next, they’re… doing something else. The swaying stops and everything comes to a glaring halt as the song starts to come to a gradual end. They’re left with nothing to do but stand there and look at each other. It’s almost like he’s listened to her and that somehow, he’s made them become completely frozen in time so that maybe, just maybe, they really could stay here forever.
Admittedly, terrifyingly, Lucy would have no complaints about that.
They’re holding each other too— god , she almost forgot about his hands on her wait, on her back. They’re strong and massive and yet so gentle. And before she knows it, they’re pulling her in closer and closer.
His face is inches apart from her, their lips so close. She shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, about any of the things she’s feeling right now, but she can feel his breath and it makes it impossible to think of anything else. Her chest is almost pressed against his and she wonders if Tim can feel the shaky rise and fall of her chest against his.
They get closer again, and closer, and closer…
Then, the door clicks and swings open, sending her and Tim jumping apart.
The moment ends before it ever has a chance to start.
“Hey, I’m back,” Jackson calls out as he walks in, checking his phone. “So fire up the next episode of Love Island and put in the popcorn because I am ready to g—”
Jackson stops mid-sentence once he looks up from his phone and finds Lucy, standing next to Tim as they both look away from each other with flushed cheeks and awkward coughs from their throats. The music on her phone has stopped now, thankfully, but the light from the speaker still flashes to indicate it’s on and Jackson soaks in the whole scene. He meets it with confusion though, his brows furrowing.
“Uhh… What’s going on here?”
“I was just about to leave,” Tim announces, looking down at the floor as he makes a beeline for his coat.
“Right, yeah,” Lucy nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess?”
“Yeah, of course. Uh, bye,” he replies awkwardly, his eyes meeting Lucy’s one last time with something that she daresay looks like disappointment— like yearning. Jackson’s still there though, and so the moment is short-lived. Tim’s hands fly back into his pockets, just as stiff as they were when he first came over, and he leaves. The door shuts behind him abruptly.
Lucy stares at the door where Tim used to be, her shoulders sagging in a disappointment of her own, but she turns to see Jackson staring at her and knows she has no way to explain… well, to explain whatever the hell just happened.
“You want to tell me why Tim was here?”
“He felt guilty about what happened with you and Angela,” she explains, a little defensively. “I was just talking it out with him.”
“Sure, yeah,” Jackson nods with an unconvinced laugh, “that’s why you two jumped apart like frogs as soon as I came in.”
“We did not jump apart ,” she protests.
“Ok, if you say so,” he concedes, his hands up in surrender. “Besides, whatever you two were doing here, I just—… don’t want to know.” He lets out a small chuckle after that, shaking his head as he moves to grab a pack of unpopped popcorn out of the cupboard and put it in the microwave.
“It was nothing,” she mumbles quietly. “Nothing happened.”
It’s the first real lie she’s told that night. Jackson drops it after that though, and she sighs to herself as she sits back down on the couch.
She closes her eyes as the microwave buzzes and Jackson starts to ramble about his visit with Angela, slowly transporting herself back to that dance with Tim.
Maybe she’s wrong for this, maybe she’s completely insane and unprofessional. But as she plays it over in her head, her own words ring through her head and she realizes that maybe she really did want to stay like that with Tim forever.
Oh, screw it . She knows she did. It’s not a fact she can necessarily scream out to the world, but she did.
To Lucy, there are much worse things to want to be.
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orchidscript · 3 years
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Lítost (Henry)
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Happy birthday, Henry. To show you -- nee remind you -- how much I love you and your whole deal, let me just kick you hard in the shins. Love you, bud!
And, for the rest of you, I sincerely hope you enjoy this next installment of Henry’s recovery. Let’s watch the boy have some revelations and a little bit of a “come to Jesus”, as it were. Featuring Caleb and his particular brand of totally non- comforting comfort. Enjoy!
Henry’s Master List
Tags:  @neuro-whump , @burtlederp , @moose-teeth  @deluxewhump  @whumpingupastorm  @pepper-and-peaches  @justanothermaltesegirl  @whumptywhumpdump  @whumphours  @whump-only  @thatsthewhump  @boxboysandotherwhump @lave-whump​  @pebbledriscoll​ @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @kixngiggles​ 
Warnings: bbu general warning. Recovery arc, trauma recovery, trauma survivor; consequences of Bad Decisions with Henry, atonement, confessions, implied unhealthy coping mechanisms. Mostly connecting chapters, but if I’ve missed anything let me know!
~*~*~
“Hey, Carter, I—.”
“I’m not talking to you.”
Henry blinked, startled. Carter had never sounded so sharp and thorny before. “Wait, what-?”
“I’m not talking to you, Henry,” Carter snapped. His eyes shone with something he’d never seen in them before: anger. True anger, meant only for him. Henry swallowed and shrunk. “I saw your texts and I don’t want to hear it, okay? Go find some other idiot to fuck over.”
Cold spread out from his back through his shoulders and hips. Draining down into his arms, wrists, fingers, legs, toes. Even his nose felt cold, as if he had just come in from a windy day. He couldn’t feel the floor under his shoes, but he could feel how his hands gripped one another. Rolling joints and knuckles in between his fingers. 
“Fuck off. I’m sick of your kicked puppy thing. I heard what happened. Daniel won’t shut up about it.”
“Oh…Got it.”
Shivering and nodding to himself, Henry stepped back. His body had heard Carter, knew what Carter wanted, and had enough autonomy to force him to act on it. But his brain was still reeling, still catching up to this turn. A sharp left turn. He could hear his own breathing as he walked to the other end of the short hallway, stepping uncertainly around other students waiting for the same lecture hall. It was the last lecture before winter break and finals, was packed for the first time in months for the exam review.
Henry kept walking.
He needed to be in that review, but he kept walking. Through the science building, out through the side door, and onto the main quad again. A sleety rain had started to come down over Hallford. It was supposed to turn into snow. Henry threw up his coat hood then jammed a hand into his coat pocket for his lighter and carton. He lit up without flourish and sucked on it greedily as he wandered aimlessly through campus. 
He sniffled and shivered, his palms pulsing painfully every time his heart squeezed hard in his chest. Tears found their way up and out of him, dripping slowly over his cheeks and nose. They blended in with the icy raindrops. 
He was thankful for the disguise, another way to pretend his shame wasn’t there. But it was, cold and terrible, right there. Carter didn’t want him and he deserved it.
Carter didn’t want him and he deserved it.
Carter didn’t want him and he deserved it.
“I did this to myself.” 
Henry halted underneath a towering, ancient oak tree and tilted his head to the steel grey sky. The hang that held his cigarette hung limply at his side. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the damp December soak into him. He exhaled a thin stream of silvery grey, all frozen breath and smoke. 
I’m asking if your lashing out and stubbornness is an attempt to corner people into hurting you or pushing them away for good.
It was obvious, really. Consequences for his actions, being a stubborn shit, pushing people away and all that. Hawkins was spot-on, no matter how much the notion made Henry’s nose curl. But that was the answer. There was no getting around it. After months and months, he had finally pushed Carter all the way to the edge of his patience. He’d forced and pushed and picked and jabbed, and Carter finally quit.
Turns out, there was a limit. There was an outer edge.
Henry had found it.
“This…” Henry shook his head and put the cigarette back in his mouth. This is my fault he was meant to say. I deserve this, I did this was what was supposed to come out. Voicing it scared him. It made it permanent and real, shrunk the denial back, forced him to look at the mess stretched out in front of him.
It was his fault. He deserved all of Carter’s anger. He did that, to himself. He hadn’t been so out of it he didn’t remember what had been said, what he’d spat at the other boy just to watch the words tear him apart.
He ran a sleeve over his face, wiping away the damp. “I’m a piece of shit… A complete piece of shit…”
He couldn’t just smile and tilt his head and be forgiven. Not this time. His charm wouldn’t fix this. Carter wasn’t having it anymore. He started walking again, this time towards town. As much as losing that particular crutch made Henry squirm, he had to admit it might be a good thing. Force him to try anything else or, perhaps, realize that he shouldn’t always get his way.
Things shouldn’t be so easy. 
He hadn’t thought about how easy things had been over the last year. At least, not really and not until then. The trial had been hard. The rest had been easy, until he had made it hard.
For himself and everyone else.
His choice, his fault.
When he reached the street, Henry had decided where he was headed. The sensitive, pulsing feeling had gone out of his palms when he lit up for a second time. A kind of conviction had come over him the longer he stayed out in the rain. He needed to do something, repent for something, fix something that actually could be fixed. He glanced up and down the empty wet street, then crossed, making a beeline for the Mar Y Cielo.
                                                          ~*~*~
“Hey Caleb?”
Caleb looked up from the bills he was going over, shoes up on the desk and chewing at the end of a blue pen. He wasn’t one to go looking for excuses not to get his work done — he liked his father to continue thinking of him as reliable — but something about the look on Henry’s face told him to press pause. 
He had a broken, shivery look about him — something more familiar to the Henry who had first arrived at the Mar Y Cielo and not the person he was three years on. The dark circles under his eyes were back again, highlighting the tight pink ringing them. He’d been upset over something, might have had a migraine by the looks of it. As he stood in the door way to the Mar’s back office, he was shrinking into his oversized sweatshirt like it was the only thing that could protect him.
Must be bad then. Caleb raised an eyebrow.
Henry shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “D’you have a minute?”
Henry hadn’t been in the Mar in weeks. He was on a temporary bar from the place until he got the all-clear from Dr. Hawkins for his dependency. Caleb once had him come in to run food, but had to let him go back to the apartment after only a few hours. The temptation was still too strong for him. 
Caleb tossed the bills back onto the desk. “Sure. Did class get cancelled?”
“Not… not exactly.” He hesitated, then stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Caleb pressed his tongue between his teeth to keep his jaw from clenching. That one action gave him an on-guard feeling, but he knew better than to let Henry see it. Not that the kid was fragile, but he didn’t need the encouragement to clam up again. Henry dropped his backpack on the floor, then pulled up the other chair in the room. “I um. I skipped it, today. Not on purpose. I went. I just… I didn’t go inside.”
“Okay,” Caleb said. He dropped his boots to the floor and leaned back. “Why not?”
They had talked about this. Months earlier, when he and June had realized just what kind of rock bottom Henry had hit. His grades had slipped in accordance with the rest of his issues, but that was fixable. He hadn’t lost the small scholarship he’d been granted and scores had ticked back up again. 
“I, um…” Henry picked at his thumb, his knee bouncing nervously. “I, um, I have the notes and the review packet… and I needed to do something more important.”
“This?” Caleb raised an eyebrow.
“This.” Henry nodded. He stayed bent over, elbows on the arms of the chair, staring down at the floor. He ran rough fingers through his hair once, then twice, then seemed to get his nerve up. “I. I lied, to you and June. On Friday. I wasn’t at a movie, I was at a party, and I was hungover when I came home the next day. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Caleb let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Thank you for telling me. I expect you to tell June later. And I want to talk to Carter about—.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“It isn’t?”
Henry shook his head. “I lied to him too. He didn’t know I was, that I was going to… You know how we had that whole treat thing going?”
Caleb nodded.
“It was part of that. I asked him if he would take me one weekend. For the two months since I started going back to therapy. I asked him to take me one of his greek parties and I swore I wouldn’t touch anything.” Henry buried his face in his hands. His nails dug into his hairline. “Carter didn’t know. I… it was like the stash. I just—.”
“You saw a way to get what you wanted, what you weren’t allowed to have, and you took it,” Caleb supplied in an even tone. He wasn’t passing judgement and, when Henry forced himself to look him in the eye, hoped it was evident. Henry nodded and began picking at his thumb again. “I take it he caught you.”
“Yeah.”
“And what?” Caleb crossed his legs. “What happened?”
Henry slowly leaned into the back of his chair, looking well and truly ill. Sick to his stomach and on the verge of tears at the same time. His eyes flickered to all other corners of the room, unable to stay on Caleb’s for longer than a second or two. When he answered, he was staring at the floor lamp in the far corner. “He left. I slept at the house. But he left, and it’s over. I picked a fight and he finally had enough. So.”
“It’s over?” Caleb asked gently. “As in…” He waved a hand in front of him, not quite knowing what to call it. In all truth, he’d never dealt with this before. June was the only person he’d ever dated or been with and Rosie had no interest in any of that, despite the rest of her friends growing curiosity. 
“Yeah. Like that.” Henry’s voice shook slightly, but he kept it together. He didn’t cry, didn’t melt down, didn’t do much of anything. He kept quiet, not at peace with but resigned to that reality.
“Are you alright?”
“Not really… I. I tried to talk to him before class and, and he didn’t.” Henry paused, swallowing hard. His eyes moved to the front of Caleb’s tee shirt. “I’m not. I mean. I’m upset, but. He should be mad at me.”
“You think?”
“I mean, all the shit I’ve done to him… it should have happened sooner.” Henry rubbed the heel of his hand against one eye. “I wish it didn’t, but. Yeah. I get it. It’s my fault, at the end of the day.”
“Fair enough.”
“Don’t you want to say I told you so or something?”
“You know you fucked up. I don’t need to pile on.” Caleb exhaled and stood. He held out a hand for Henry, who stared at it suspiciously. After a moment, he took it and Caleb pulled him to his feet. He held the kid by his shoulders and waited until Henry looked him in the eyes. “Thank you for telling me. I forgive you. I’m sorry about Carter, but at least you know why.”
Henry sniffed and smirked a little. “You’re not exactly comforting.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“Oh. Good. Because I don’t want it. I did it to myself, you know?”
“I know,” Caleb said. “But it’s good to hear you say it. It bites, but it’s accountability.”
“That’s, um, why I wanted to talk to you. I can’t… I don’t want to do this shit anymore.”
“What shit?”
“Doing everything to hurt people and make them resent me, then asking like it isn’t my fault.” Henry exhaled. “That and the rest of it. The lying, the drinking… I just. I can’t do it anymore, it isn’t helping me any.”
Caleb changed his grip on Henry’s shoulders, searching his face. He liked to think he was an okay judge of character, that he had been around long enough to know when someone was giving him the run-around. Henry was so worn down in that moment, Caleb didn’t believe he could. His face was oddly open, a reflection of someone much younger, much less sure or safe in himself.
Caleb nodded to himself, then cupped Henry’s face in his hands. “You’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”
Henry shook his head once.
“Alright then.” He pulls away, then reaches behind him to open the door. Catching on, Henry snagged his backpack and walked out into the bar. Caleb followed, then stepped behind the bar.
“I um… I’ll see you at home then.”
“Who said anything about going home?”
Henry squinted at him. “But..?”
Caleb leaned against the bar. “I know the rules, but tell me this. Do you want any of what’s on the wall behind me?”
Henry’s eyes scanned the shelves and the bottles sitting on them. They lingered for a moment, really thinking. His nose scrunching the barest bit, then he shook his head. That was all Caleb needed to know. He tossed a rag in his direction, which Henry caught easily.
“We’re not done talking.”
“I know.”
“And you’re going to tell June what you told me.”
“Tomorrow morning. I swear.”
“Good.” Caleb pointed. “You’re working tonight. Start with the front tables.”
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Boston Boys [Part Thirteen]
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Summary: Chris and Elsa spend a few days in New York.  Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1968 Chapter Warnings: Snobby people.  Square Filled: The entire series (well, bits and pieces of it) will fill my Crossover square for @marvelfluffbingo​​. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)
Boston Boys Masterlist
Elsa waited impatiently on the sidewalk of LaGuardia airport. Chris’s flight had landed thirty minutes ago, and no one from the flight had come down yet. Samuel, her driver for the day, insisted that she wait in the car for her own safety, but Elsa waved him off.
“I survived a bank robbery, Sam, I can survive the airport sidewalk.”
Years of familiarity edged their exchange, and Samuel only gave her a playful wink in return. Five minutes later, Chris came out of the airport; Elsa practically jumped on him.
“It’s only been a few days, you miss me that much?” Chris teased. He shouldered his bag and kissed her soundly. “I sure hope so, ‘cause I missed the hell outta you, babe.”
Elsa giggled into their next kiss, then motioned toward the town car waiting for them. “Chris, this is Samuel. Samuel, Chris.”
Chris shook hands with the formidable man, then slid into the back with Elsa. She held tight to his hand. True, only a few days had passed, but she had missed him more than she could imagine. After talking to her family and Brie about Chris almost non-stop, they were just as anxious to meet him as Elsa was to have him there.
“Mother is at her weekly salon appointment, but Daddy’s home and ready to meet you. My siblings will be by tomorrow, but my best friend and her husband are up for a double tonight, if you are.”
Chris seemed overwhelmed; he only shook his head. “Damn woman, you are out of my league.”
“Who said that?”
“Seb,” Chris chuckled, “last night when we were at Stan’s. I asked him what he thought about you.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were out of my league, but that he thinks we seem happy together.” Chris caressed her cheek. “I’d tend to agree with him.”
Elsa smiled and squeezed his hand. The rest of the ride was mostly silent, since they had spent a fair amount of time at the end of each day catching up with each other. Chris was nervous, Elsa could see, so she stayed close to him and kept up the smile on her face.
Once Samuel dropped them in front of her apartment building, Elsa’s nerves started, also. She was grateful that her father was home and her mother was not. That fact would help her ease Chris into her world.
“You must be Chris,” Caleb smiled when Elsa brought her boyfriend into her father’s home office. “I’m Caleb. Nice to meet you.”
“Chris,” he replied, shaking hands with Elsa’s father. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for letting me join Elsa for a few days.”
Caleb smiled. “Of course. You make her happy -- after that awful bank robbery, we were worried about her. She seems to have all but forgotten about it by now.”
Chris squeezed Elsa’s hand, and she hoped he would understand why she had decided not to tell her family about the latest bank robbery and its connection to the one she had been victim of.
“I’m happy to be a part of her life.”
The talk went on from there, about Chris’s shop and his family. Elsa was worried how that part would go, for either man, but Chris seemed to not mind talking about it, and Caleb didn’t judge at all.
“I need to finish a few things before the business day ends. I’ll see you two for supper,” Caleb said, excusing himself from further conversation.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Chris repeated before following Elsa back out to the penthouse. She took him on a quick tour, ending in her bedroom where Chris dropped his bag and Elsa closed the door behind them. In a second, she was in his arms again, sure that this was the only place she wanted to be for the rest of her life.
When they managed to stop kissing each other, Elsa took the chance to really look at him. Frowning, she asked what was bothering him.
“Nothing, why?”
“C’mon. I can see it on your face -- and it’s not just the hangover from the drinks you had last night.”
Chris chuckled and sat up to the edge of the bed. Elsa followed him, rubbing her hand over his back. She waited patiently for him to be ready to talk.
“My sister is pregnant. She’s been dating a guy for several months. I just found out about all of it.”
Elsa pursed her lips. “Aurelie, I’m assuming?”
“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “How’d you know?”
“Because you love Carly and Shanna, but Aurelie is your favorite. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
Chris chuckled again. “Yeah. The guy she’s with, he’s … I don’t know how to explain it. It’s a longstanding feud between our two families, and she’s stepping out on that.”
Elsa nodded. “And you feel like she’s stepping out on you?”
“When’d you get to know me so well?”
“I do what I can,” Elsa shrugged. “C’mon, you need to get cleaned up. Mom’ll be home soon and that’s not an introduction you want to be distracted from.”
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When he met Margaret Chapman, Chris realized Elsa hadn’t been joking. Margaret -- Mrs. Chapman, as she had introduced herself -- was a stiff, pretentious woman who looked down on Chris perhaps before she even laid eyes on him. He had some words for her right off, especially after noticing how her demeanor affected Elsa. For Elsa’s sake, however, Chris kept his thoughts to himself.
“Caleb tells me you own a barber shop,” Margaret noted over supper.
Chris nodded. “Yes ma’am. Third generation. My dad’s dad opened it, built it up from nothing. My father kept it moving, and now it’s my turn.”
“And your father, is he retired?”
“Yes,” Elsa interjected before Chris could tell the truth. He gave her a grateful smile. “Lives across town.”
Chris swallowed down several gulps of the ice water in front of his plate, wishing for something stronger. “My brother and two of my sisters work at the shop with me.”
“Two of?” Margaret was full of questions. Chris hadn’t felt this panicked since his last police interrogation.
“Chris’s stepsister Aurelie is a trauma doctor,” Elsa explained. “She treated me after the robbery, actually, made sure I had the best care -- and that was before I ever met Chris. She’s just a fantastic physician.”
Margaret smiled, finally. “Then I suppose we have her to thank for keeping that scar from being too noticeable up near your hairline.”
Chris reached for Elsa’s hand then and squeezed. He hardly ever noticed the scar, but he knew that Elsa was painfully aware of it. She had explained before about the tense relationship with her mother, and Chris imagined having the woman point out something Elsa didn’t like about herself was only salt in the wound.
The rest of the meal went that same way, with Margaret asking questions and Chris and Elsa answering as best they could without giving her too much to find wrong with their relationship. Chris had a suspicion that the lack of money growing from his family tree had him on her shit list before he set foot in New York.
“I’m going to touch up my makeup, and we’ll go meet Brie and Ben soon,” Elsa said, kissing his cheek.
“All right. I’m going to drink down some more water before the drinks start flowing again.”
Elsa kissed his cheek and sent him on his way to the kitchen. Chris made sure that she was preoccupied before he turned away from the kitchen and went to her father’s office again, hoping to find Caleb there. This was a conversation Chris wanted to have in person, and sooner rather than later. Having this specific conversation with Caleb seemed to be the next step before telling Elsa the truth.
“... not thinking clearly!”
“Maggie, she’s an adult, we can’t expect to stop her from dating a man she loves! I see nothing wrong with the two of them being together. Chris is respectable, he takes good care of her, and he makes her happy!”
Margaret scoffed. “Makes her happy? Caleb, she obviously is rebelling against us! Or-or-or having some sort of manic episode after the robbery and kidnapping!”
“I don’t think that’s what this is, and you’ve got to accept it.”
The conversation went on from there but Chris turned away. He didn’t need to hear anymore.
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At the club with Brie and Ben, everything went better than Elsa could have expected. Or, at least it started off that way. Ben and Chris hit it off, and Brie thought he was really great.
“Good,” Elsa smiled when she and Brie excused themselves to the ladies’ room and discussed how the visit was going so far. “Because I really like him. I mean -- I think I love him, Brie.”
Brie snorted. “Love him?”
Elsa giggled. “Is it that obvious?”
“No, Els, I mean … he’s not exactly in our circle, you know? He’s nice and he’s got his own business, but he’s never going to be able to get you into the places that you can get him into. Maybe it’s just about the money.”
“It’s not about the money,” Elsa replied quietly. “I don’t care about the money, and up until now, I didn’t think you did, either.”
She dropped her lipstick into her bag and left the restroom on her own. Back at the table, Ben and Chris were laughing, having a grand old time. Elsa hated to ruin it, especially after supper with her mother, but she couldn’t stay here and be around Brie any longer.
“I’m not feeling well. Do you mind if we go home? I’ll call Samuel to come and pick us up.”
Chris looked surprised but nodded. “Of course. Do you need water before we go?”
Elsa shook her head. Brie had caught up to them by then, and silently took a seat next to Ben. The men began to catch on to what was happening, so they shook hands, and Chris led Elsa out to the sidewalk.
“What happened in there?”
Elsa shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She’s just not the person I thought she was.”
Chris took a deep breath. “None of them think you’re that serious about me, do they? It’s all right, Els. Be honest with yourself. We had fun and now we’re done. I get it.”
“No, it’s not like that!” Elsa insisted. “It’s exactly the opposite! Do you think I didn’t know it was a possibility things would go this way? You’re not the person my mother or my best friend thought I would end up with, but I don’t give a flying fuck!”
“Maybe you should start looking at things like they are,” Chris suggested. “You’ve got the world at your disposal. I’m a fuckin’ nobody from the shit part of Boston. What can I ever give you? Nothing. I don’t deserve you, Elsa!”
The world stopped for a full seven seconds, it seemed; certainly, their world stopped. Elsa wanted to yell more, to push him, to tell him what an idiot he was. Instead, she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck.
“I love you,” she said, not even caring that her voice was watery with the tears running down her cheeks. “You’re a good man, Chris Evans, and I love you. You’ve never let anything hurt me, and that’s all I need to know. You say you don’t deserve me -- that alone tells me that you do.”
Chris’s arms slid around her waist and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “I love you, too, Elsa. I love you, so much.”
They stood like that on the downtown New York sidewalk until Samuel arrived to take them back to the penthouse.
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AlloftheThings: @captain-s-rogers​​​​​​​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​​​​​​​@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​​​​​@horsesandbandsforlife​​​​​​​​​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​​​​​​​​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​​​​​​​​ @shynara51​​​​​​​​​ @sea040561​​​​​​​​​  @pinknerdpanda​​​​​​​​​ @xtina2191​​​​​​​​​ @jackryanplz​​​​​​​​​ @beakami​​​​​​​​​ @heartsaved​​​​​​​​​@fullprunerebelstatesman​​​​​​​​​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​​​​​​​​​
Boston Boys:  @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​​​​​​​ @becs-bunker​​​​​​​​​ @shield-agent78​​​​​​​​​ @patzammit​​​​​​​​​ @crazyandanonymous4u​​​​​​​​​@ntlmundy​​​​​​​​​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​​​​​​​ @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too​​​​​​​​​
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thelaurenshippen · 4 years
Audio
oh hey, here’s a playlist from 2017 that I realized wasn’t on my website with the rest of them and that I totally wasn’t thinking about because there’s actually a part two that has never seen the light of day that may or may not be incoming
notes on my website and also under the cut
As I write, I like to build playlists for all my characters and, occasionally, will make playlists as a character as well. These playlists are part of my writing process and I take them far more seriously than anyone should. Sometimes the playlists come together instantly and effortlessly and sometimes I play around with them for months. As such, there are a fair number of cast-offs that never make it onto the final, official playlist. That's what this playlist is.
So here we are: all the songs that nearly made it on to the character playlists but got cut for various reasons. Those reasons tend to fall into one of a few categories:
There wasn’t space / another song was serving a similar purpose
The song was right for the character but not right for the character at the beginning of their story (which is what most of the playlists are)
The mood/genre/tempo of the song was out of place in the playlist
I discovered the song after the playlists had been put together.
All my playlists are very specifically ordered, so adding or removing songs after their publication is more or less impossible. Instead, I would throw songs into this B-Side playlist as they appeared, meaning that, unlike most of my playlists, the order here is random (aka this playlist has NO flow). Here is a list of where they would have gone had they made the final cut. The characters are listed above the tracks, with a link to the playlist in question.
A/N, 2020: These are the B-Sides specifically from pre-Season 4. Back in August of 2017, I  did a sticker giveaway to see what folks would guess about which songs were for which characters - these annotations were published after that giveaway and thus, there's some reference to how people guessed!
WADSWORTH 
1. “Heavy Metal Lover” - Lady Gaga
This is a Wadsworth song through and through in terms of style and swagger. There just wasn’t space for it.
But would you love me if I ruled the world
DAMIEN 
2. “Reaper Man” - Mother Mother
This is a song that was recommended to me as a Damien song by tumblr user kalgalen and I am actively mad that I didn’t know this song before making Damien’s playlist. The style, the lyrics - everything about this song is Damien. And it actually fits perfectly after the opening track but by the time I was made aware of it, it was too late.
Oh yeah, I’m an ugly mess/not in the face, but in the head - regardless of how attractive Damien is, this is something he thinks. God, what an edgelord line this is.
Oh yeah, I got no choice/got no choice/but to love myself - I mean, it’s just all there.
A/N, 2020: this song eventually made its way onto a playlist -  my playlist for A Neon Darkness, Damien's book.
CHLOE 
3. “Her Morning Elegance” - Oren Lavie
I love that this song really conjures a visceral image to your brain - it paints such a vivid picture. It’s delicate, but determined. I think Chloe sometimes moves through her world separate and observing and that’s what this song is.
There’s also an amazing music video that I think Chloe would watch over and over again.
I got a lot of submissions guessing that this was a song for Sam and I really see that too. It fits well with the aesthetic of her playlist and the theme of fighting for your life everyday definitely resonates with Sam, as does the “Nobody knows” lyric. But the lyrics are also about being out in the world, which is something Sam doesn’t do but Chloe wants to continue to do desperately, despite her ability making it difficult.  
CALEB/ADAM 
4. “Blue and Yellow” - The Used
This was a song suggested by my sister for Caleb and Adam because of the colors involved and also because The Used was a band we both listened to a lot when we were emo teenagers like Adam. Ultimately, this song feels very dated as early emo and didn’t quite fit musically on any of their mixes, either in-universe or not.
And it’s all in how you mix the two/and it starts just where the light exists/it’s a feeling that you cannot miss/and it burns a hole/through everyone that feels it
5. “Stupid for You” - Waterparks
This is another song that was recommended to me, this time by a tumblr user and it is absolutely perfect. I didn’t even realize that there was pop punk being made like this anymore, so I was delighted.
You’re yellow, I’m natural blue/let’s get together and be green like my insides - I mean??? Couldn’t have said it better myself
Also, the refrain of “stupid for you” fits perfectly with the “I’m the guy who’s been so stupid about you that it broke my fucking super power!” I mean, I clearly ghostwrote this song.
ISO: the tumblr user who suggested this song. I have scoured both of my blogs to find the ask to no avail so if it was you, please raise your hand.
Both of these songs would go on a Caleb/Adam ship mix if such a thing existed. But in fact, both their mixes are in-universe and, while one of them might put this on a mix now, it would have been way too vulnerable of a thing to put on one of those earlier playlists. I've linked to their second in-universe mix - the quite lovey one that Adam makes for Caleb.
MARK 
6. “Time Machine" - Robyn
This definitely felt a little too on the nose for Mark, so I went with “Hang With Me” instead. But Mark loves Robyn and would love the DeLorean reference in this so it was very tempting. It’s also a song all about making impulsive decisions, which Mark definitely does a lot, but in classic Robyn style, it’s such a bop despite the serious lyrics. That balance fits Mark perfectly.
7. “F U” - Miley Cyrus
I know this song is about someone cheating, but it is such a good angry-fuck-you song that I can’t help but think of it in the context of Mark’s feelings towards Wadsworth. Having missed the heyday of pop borrowing from dubstep and the increasing use of internet slang, I think Mark would have gotten out of The AM and fallen hard for this song. I imagine many an afternoon before Joan gets home from work just angry dancing around the living room singing along to this.
SAM/MARK 
8. “Someone to Fall Back On” - Jason Robert Brown
This is 100% Sam singing to Mark about being his knight in shining armor. Sam is hard on herself - doesn’t realize her own strength - so the self-deprecating lyrics really work for her. It didn’t make it on the playlist because it felt like it was a little further down the line in their relationship - somewhere around Episode 40.
I’ll take your side/if I’m the only one/I’m used to that/I’ve been alone/I’d rather be/the half of us/the least of you/the best of me
I got a lot of guesses for Frank on this one, which completely fits. He’s quite a bit more confident in his abilities than Sam - if he thinks he can be your knight, he’ll say so right from the get-go.
9. “Can’t Get Started With You” - Ella Fitzgerald
This is pretty self-explanatory. It didn’t fit with the very particular structure that I created for the Sam/Mark playlist and it also felt like a later stage of their relationship. That playlist was them falling in love and wanting to be in the same time; this song is getting close to that but then getting pulled apart again, first by Damien and then by the difficult realties of actually trying to have a relationship. If the previous track is end of Season 3 for them, this is a Season 4 song.
A/N, 2020: it certainly is a Season 4 song, because it actually ended up going on their Season 4 playlist.
DAMIEN/MARK 
10. “Elvis Ain’t Dead” - Scouting for Girls
So…this is a reject from an as of yet published playlist. I know - not fair. Think of this as the free square on a bingo sheet. In the course of writing Season 3, I was motivated to make a playlist for a relationship that was becoming increasingly interesting to write. While this playlist could certainly be seen as a ship playlist, I have no intentions to ever put these characters together in a real way, but their dynamic was so compelling that I wanted to explore it. I will eventually release the playlist because it’s one of the best I’ve made, but I didn’t want it influencing anyone’s reaction to the end of Season 3. Loose lips sink ships.
I wish it was me you chose/Elvis ain’t dead/and you’re coming back
Okay, okay, I won’t leave you hanging because a few people actually guessed this one right - it’s from a Damien/Mark playlist. This is actually one of three unpublished Damien mixes - for whatever reason, music is the fastest and easiest way for me to connect to him. He really brings out the playlist-making skills in me.
A lot of people guessed that this was Agent Green which I absolutely love. Poor Owen.
A/N, 2020: I didn't link to the playlist originally, but it exists now! To this day, I think it's some of my best work.
ROSE 
11. “Carolina” - Harry Styles
This was mostly rejected because I felt stupid having two songs called “Carolina” on one mix and Sara Bareilles trumps Harry Styles (as much as I love him). But in style and content, this really feels like a Rose song.
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disastrousbarnes · 4 years
Text
Not without you (6)
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Pairing: (Dad) Steve Rogers x Reader, (past) Bucky x Reader
Warning: swearing(?)
Summary: Ever since Steve lost Angela he hasn’t been the same, live hasn’t been the same. The only reason he was still doing this was for his kids, because they need him. So when a new chance at love comes on his path, will he take it? Will either of them take it?  
Authors note: Hi well last time I gave ya’ll a chapter it was may 2019, It’s Januari 2020. But hey, A bitch is back! This chapter includes a lot of talk about Bucky, but don’t worry, it’ll become more Steve x Y/N centered soon. 
FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME AND HONESTLY WANTED!
Wordcount: 2222
Tag List:
@lunadanvers @dangerdolns @stevieboyharrington @tessvillegas @lanabgil @cecedofficial @lovingrxgers @celebsimagines @pizzamyhearts @leaveittosteverogers @saroo-hawks @ellaprime68 @grace-wheeze @bxxbxy @lovvliies​ @marvelismysafezone​
TAG LIST IS OPEN!! So if you wanna be tagged just message me x
Read Chapter 1 Read Chapter 2 Read Chapter 3 Read Chapter 4 Read Chapter 5
Chapter 5: Old and new friends.
“So, Steve?” Tony’s eyes meet Y/N’s over the dinner table.
Y/N just rolls her eyes, of course Tony had to bring that up. “Not during dinner. Tony, please?” She pleaded. An awkward silence fell over the table. Y/N and Tony used to share everything during dinner, no topic was off the table. Not today though, Y/N didn’t want to talk about Steve, not in front of the kids.
“But-” Tony started, but he was quickly cut off by Pepper.
“Tony, she said no.” Potts and Stark shared a look, after which Tony silently went back to eating.
Y/N mouthed Pepper a ‘thank you’, the strawberry blonde responded with a sweet smile.
“So Alex, I read you became the captain of the football team?”  Stark Industries is Jacob High, the high school the triplets attend, biggest sponsor. Pepper, being the CEO of Stark Industries, likes to keep up with projects the company invests in.  So naturally she knows all about Alex being the youngest captain of Jacob highs football team ever.
Alex face immediately lights up. “Yeah, I guess the guys felt I was good enough of a leader to, well, lead them.” After his father’s death, the teen had really thrown himself into sports, something that was clearly reflected by his muscled physic.
Pepper gave him an encouraging nod, “The article did speak very highly of your capabilities to get the team together.”
“Teambuilding is the most important part of it all,” Alex agreed, “Thankfully Y/N allows me to get the guys together at our place. So each Friday we get together, cook dinner and just talk, play games, watch a movie. You know just something to make sure we’re all in sync.”
Y/N can’t help but feel happy to see Alex talk so passionately about his role as team captain. She still remembers the silence that had fallen over the boy the first few months after Bucky’s death.
All three of teen boys had taken their dads unexpected death really hard. Which was of course to be expected, but out of all of them Alex had taken it the hardest. He and Bucky had always been the closest. It also took him the longest to not treat Y/N like an outsider when she first started dating Bucky. Bucky had told her that this was because Alex didn’t want to get attached to anyone and then have them leave again. That when their mother left when they were very young really hurt and confused him.
“Y/N?” The feeling of a hand resting on her shoulder startled Y/N, causing her to quickly turn around to face Caleb. “Are you okay? Mister Stark has been talking to you for 5 minutes now.”
Y/N frowns, how could she have zoned out like this?  “Oh.” Is all she says, not sure if she should make an excuse or not.
Tony just laughs, “What do you say, we go to my office have a drink, bet those boys have their license by now, so they can drive back and I know for sure Miss Potts and Morgs wouldn’t mind spending some time with Anna. I have kept her to myself all day, after all.” He winks.  
Y/N is a little hesitant, but agrees. Tony used to be one of her closest friends and she can’t just continue to block everyone that reminds her of Bucky out of her life, everyone except for Sam that is.
 Not much later the pair stood in Tony’s office.
“Last time we were here you were pregnant.” Tony chuckles. Y/n had been about 6 month along back then. Her belly had already been huge, he even remembers she was wearing Bucky’s favorite maroon sweater. He only remembered that because Bucky complained that he actually wanted to wear it, about 24 times during dinner.  
“And my husband was still alive.” Y/N had meant it as a joke, but the look on Tony’s face clearly showed that that didn’t get across. “I- It was a joke T.”
Tony lets out a sigh of relieve. “Oh.” A small smile plays on his lips. “I was afraid you’d yell at me again.”
When Bucky died Tony had insisted to personally tell Y/N of Bucky’s passing. Something  she didn’t exactly take lightly. In the rush of emotions she had blamed Tony for all of it. She had told him it was his fault for getting Bucky to help him with the program in the first place and that he should have never have let him go to Afghanistan.
Though truly she knew Bucky was the one that came to Tony with the idea in the first place. Stark Industries had stopped manufacturing weapons years ago, but Bucky convinced Tony to get back into it. To help him make safe weapons that would cause as little destruction as possible.  That wouldn´t kill so many innocent people. He wanted to create a way to end wars as quick and peaceful as possible.
And hearing that that had been the thing to kill her husband had broken the -then pregnant- woman. When the shock had settled she of course apologized to Tony for her accusations, but to say that had put a rift in their friendship would be an understatement.
“Never.” Y/N said, sitting down in the big red office chair. “I still don’t understand why you need an office.”
“Yeah yeah I know. I am always down in the lab, but having an office is nice for-“
“Drinking.” Y/N finished the sentence, a bottle of jack had already found it’s way into her hand. “That’s the only thing we have ever done here.”
Sam, Bucky, Pepper, Tony, Bruce, Rhodey, Clint and her used to have dinner together every Friday night, to end the workweek right. After which they would get drunk and dance in this very office. The triplets would watch Morgan upstairs, which was an easy way to make some money. So they never complained about it.
“Does the rest still work for you?” She hadn’t really been in touch with anyone since the incident.
Tony nods, “Rhodey is still our main connection with the military. Clint is running the weapon testing department right now. Bruce and I have been working on some really interesting tech, it would make the weapons non killing, just rendering our opponents unconscious for about 12 hours max. Buck had been pressing me about that  for so long, we just weren’t able to crack the code. Of course something like this already on the market, but the danger with that stuff is that 1 it is always bad for the environment  and 2 you never know what the cognitive damage is with that stuff. Which is dangerous cause most of the time you aren’t just taking out the bad guy, but also the innocent bystanders.”
Y/N enjoyed seeing Tony ramble on so passionately about the new ‘weapon’ he and Bruce are making. It reminds her of sitting on the couch at home, just watching Bucky walk around the room, talking about all he wanted to achieve with S.T.W.P. He had been so enthusiastic, so willing to do everything to create a brighter future. One of peace.  
“But enough about weapons and work, what about that Steve dude? He’s a friend of Buck’s you said?” Tony had a way of smoothly swaying into topics Y/N didn’t exactly want to talk about.
“Used to be.” Y/N felt her body tens up at just the mention of Steve’s name. Something about the fondness and respect Bucky still had when he used to talk about him didn’t match up with the Steve Y/N had met. “Left New York and never contacted James again.”
“James?” Tony cocked an eyebrow, Y/N had never called Bucky James, not in public at least.
“Shut up.” She felt her face get hot, “It just flopped out. I only call him James when no one else is around.”
“Cause he didn’t mind it when you said it?”
“He didn’t.”
Tony smiles, putting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “Of course he didn’t he loved every word you spoke.”
“It’s still weird when people talk about him in past tense.”
“It really is.” The man agrees. “It’s also weird that Steve and Bucky lived in the same town and never saw each other.”
“It is isn’t it?” Y/N had never even thought about that, honestly she hadn’t given Steve much thought outside of him being Luke’s dad and the man who left Bucky behind.
The rest of their night is spend making up weird theories of how Steve and Bucky ended up in the same town. That and getting very drunk.
//
“Steve?” Sam found himself standing in the doorway of what appeared to be Steve’s bedroom. He decided to check in when after half an hour Steve still hadn’t gotten back from getting a sweater.
Steve was sitting in front of the bed, holding a fluffy black sweater close to chest. He looked up at Sam but didn’t respond. Not that he needed to, the lost look in his eyes spoke volumes. He was hurting, really hurting..
Without speaking another word Sam sat down next to Steve.
“It’s hard isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Everything around you continuously reminds you of her. The kids, the house, all her stuff. Everything.”
“Yeah.” Steve frowns, looking at the piece of clothing in his hands.
“You don’t want to get rid of it because it reminds you of her, but at the same time all the memories are just way too much, aren’t they?”
Finally Steve’s eyes met Sam’s, they were filled with tears. “How did you just put all of my feelings into words?”
“I´ve been trough war and lost the people that mean the most to me. I´m just speaking from personal experience.” Sam’s fierce loyalty and insanely loving heart had only made his life harder, “Plus being a gay black man in the military, well lets say that doesn’t exactly bode well with some of those conservative white boys.” A sad smile adorned his lips.
Steve wrapped his arm around Sam, pulling him close, “Thank you.”
Sam felt confused at the random act of gratitude.
“Thanks for your service, thanks for all you have done and are doing for this country despite of the way you’ve been treated by the people living in it.” Steve had felt a bond with Sam the moment they shared a drink at O’Malley’s, now an immense amount of respect had been added to that. Sam had been trough so much and yet here he was running a countrywide V.A program and if he was right, helping Y/N raise Bucky’s kids.
Now Sam’s eyes were also filled with tears. The only time he had ever been thanked for his service is during award ceremonies, but the words had never felt as sincere as they did this very moment. A soft ‘Thank you’ made his way out of his mouth as he too wrapped an arm around Steve.
“Bucky would laugh so hard if he saw us like this.  Sitting here, snot covered and all mushy emotional. Then he would ask us if we’d like a cup of tea.”
“And he’d never force us to talk about it.” Steve adds.
“Never, but we would tell him anyway. Cause that’s just his effect.”
Steve loves the fact that the way Sam talks about Bucky makes him sound as if he hadn’t changed one bit from the Bucky he grew up with. The take no shit, but it’s okay to feel like shit sometimes, caring best friend.
“Bucky really was something else.” Sam says and releases his arm from Steve’s. “He was a little different after the war though, a little harder. That’s until he met Y/N. Something about her just sometimes a little too honest, completely open personality made it easier for Buck to deal with everything that had happened in his life. He was almost like the young, overworked, hopeful young guy I met during training. Almost.”
“She’s young isn’t she? Like a lot younger than Buck?”  Steve felt a little stupid asking, it wasn’t really his business after all.
“She’s almost 26 yeah.” Sam says with a chuckle. “Buck met her in New York when she was only 20. It was at some small 40’s themed bar she was working at. God the man tried so hard not to fall in love with that girl. He couldn’t help himself though, she just made her way into his heart, I remember right before he asked her out, she was all the idiot could talk about. Plus when you love someone the way Y/N and Bucky loved each other those 14 years feel like nothing.”
14 years, Jesus Buck, that’s a lot. Steve felt weird for even thinking that. He was judging a dead guy, who apparently really loved his wife.
“That’s uhm..” Steve wasn’t sure what to say. “She seems lovely.”
Sam lets out a loud roaring laugh, “She’s a fucking pain in the ass.” The comment might sound harsh, but his voice is filled with adoration and love.
“Isn’t that what you said about Bucky the first time we met?”
“I mean they both are, but I am decently sure I just called him an idiot fuck face.”
That night Bucky Barnes’  youth best friend and adulthood best friend became friends.  
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Boston Boys [Part Thirteen]
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Summary: Chris and Elsa spend a few days in New York. Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1968 Chapter Warnings: Snobby people. Square Filled: The entire series (well, bits and pieces of it) will fill my Crossover square for @marvelfluffbingo​​. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)
Boston Boys Masterlist
Elsa waited impatiently on the sidewalk of LaGuardia airport. Chris’s flight had landed thirty minutes ago, and no one from the flight had come down yet. Samuel, her driver for the day, insisted that she wait in the car for her own safety, but Elsa waved him off.
“I survived a bank robbery, Sam, I can survive the airport sidewalk.”
Years of familiarity edged their exchange, and Samuel only gave her a playful wink in return. Five minutes later, Chris came out of the airport; Elsa practically jumped on him.
“It’s only been a few days, you miss me that much?” Chris teased. He shouldered his bag and kissed her soundly. “I sure hope so, ‘cause I missed the hell outta you, babe.”
Elsa giggled into their next kiss, then motioned toward the town car waiting for them. “Chris, this is Samuel. Samuel, Chris.”
Chris shook hands with the formidable man, then slid into the back with Elsa. She held tight to his hand. True, only a few days had passed, but she had missed him more than she could imagine. After talking to her family and Brie about Chris almost non-stop, they were just as anxious to meet him as Elsa was to have him there.
“Mother is at her weekly salon appointment, but Daddy’s home and ready to meet you. My siblings will be by tomorrow, but my best friend and her husband are up for a double tonight, if you are.”
Chris seemed overwhelmed; he only shook his head. “Damn woman, you are out of my league.”
“Who said that?”
“Seb,” Chris chuckled, “last night when we were at Stan’s. I asked him what he thought about you.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were out of my league, but that he thinks we seem happy together.” Chris caressed her cheek. “I’d tend to agree with him.”
Elsa smiled and squeezed his hand. The rest of the ride was mostly silent, since they had spent a fair amount of time at the end of each day catching up with each other. Chris was nervous, Elsa could see, so she stayed close to him and kept up the smile on her face.
Once Samuel dropped them in front of her apartment building, Elsa’s nerves started, also. She was grateful that her father was home and her mother was not. That fact would help her ease Chris into her world.
“You must be Chris,” Caleb smiled when Elsa brought her boyfriend into her father’s home office. “I’m Caleb. Nice to meet you.”
“Chris,” he replied, shaking hands with Elsa’s father. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for letting me join Elsa for a few days.”
Caleb smiled. “Of course. You make her happy -- after that awful bank robbery, we were worried about her. She seems to have all but forgotten about it by now.”
Chris squeezed Elsa’s hand, and she hoped he would understand why she had decided not to tell her family about the latest bank robbery and its connection to the one she had been victim of.
“I’m happy to be a part of her life.”
The talk went on from there, about Chris’s shop and his family. Elsa was worried how that part would go, for either man, but Chris seemed to not mind talking about it, and Caleb didn’t judge at all.
“I need to finish a few things before the business day ends. I’ll see you two for supper,” Caleb said, excusing himself from further conversation.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Chris repeated before following Elsa back out to the penthouse. She took him on a quick tour, ending in her bedroom where Chris dropped his bag and Elsa closed the door behind them. In a second, she was in his arms again, sure that this was the only place she wanted to be for the rest of her life.
When they managed to stop kissing each other, Elsa took the chance to really look at him. Frowning, she asked what was bothering him.
“Nothing, why?”
“C’mon. I can see it on your face -- and it’s not just the hangover from the drinks you had last night.”
Chris chuckled and sat up to the edge of the bed. Elsa followed him, rubbing her hand over his back. She waited patiently for him to be ready to talk.
“My sister is pregnant. She’s been dating a guy for several months. I just found out about all of it.”
Elsa pursed her lips. “Aurelie, I’m assuming?”
“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “How’d you know?”
“Because you love Carly and Shanna, but Aurelie is your favorite. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
Chris chuckled again. “Yeah. The guy she’s with, he’s … I don’t know how to explain it. It’s a longstanding feud between our two families, and she’s stepping out on that.”
Elsa nodded. “And you feel like she’s stepping out on you?”
“When’d you get to know me so well?”
“I do what I can,” Elsa shrugged. “C’mon, you need to get cleaned up. Mom’ll be home soon and that’s not an introduction you want to be distracted from.”
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When he met Margaret Chapman, Chris realized Elsa hadn’t been joking. Margaret -- Mrs. Chapman, as she had introduced herself -- was a stiff, pretentious woman who looked down on Chris perhaps before she even laid eyes on him. He had some words for her right off, especially after noticing how her demeanor affected Elsa. For Elsa’s sake, however, Chris kept his thoughts to himself.
“Caleb tells me you own a barber shop,” Margaret noted over supper.
Chris nodded. “Yes ma’am. Third generation. My dad’s dad opened it, built it up from nothing. My father kept it moving, and now it’s my turn.”
“And your father, is he retired?”
“Yes,” Elsa interjected before Chris could tell the truth. He gave her a grateful smile. “Lives across town.”
Chris swallowed down several gulps of the ice water in front of his plate, wishing for something stronger. “My brother and two of my sisters work at the shop with me.”
“Two of?” Margaret was full of questions. Chris hadn’t felt this panicked since his last police interrogation.
“Chris’s stepsister Aurelie is a trauma doctor,” Elsa explained. “She treated me after the robbery, actually, made sure I had the best care -- and that was before I ever met Chris. She’s just a fantastic physician.”
Margaret smiled, finally. “Then I suppose we have her to thank for keeping that scar from being too noticeable up near your hairline.”
Chris reached for Elsa’s hand then and squeezed. He hardly ever noticed the scar, but he knew that Elsa was painfully aware of it. She had explained before about the tense relationship with her mother, and Chris imagined having the woman point out something Elsa didn’t like about herself was only salt in the wound.
The rest of the meal went that same way, with Margaret asking questions and Chris and Elsa answering as best they could without giving her too much to find wrong with their relationship. Chris had a suspicion that the lack of money growing from his family tree had him on her shit list before he set foot in New York.
“I’m going to touch up my makeup, and we’ll go meet Brie and Ben soon,” Elsa said, kissing his cheek.
“All right. I’m going to drink down some more water before the drinks start flowing again.”
Elsa kissed his cheek and sent him on his way to the kitchen. Chris made sure that she was preoccupied before he turned away from the kitchen and went to her father’s office again, hoping to find Caleb there. This was a conversation Chris wanted to have in person, and sooner rather than later. Having this specific conversation with Caleb seemed to be the next step before telling Elsa the truth.
“... not thinking clearly!”
“Maggie, she’s an adult, we can’t expect to stop her from dating a man she loves! I see nothing wrong with the two of them being together. Chris is respectable, he takes good care of her, and he makes her happy!”
Margaret scoffed. “Makes her happy? Caleb, she obviously is rebelling against us! Or-or-or having some sort of manic episode after the robbery and kidnapping!”
“I don’t think that’s what this is, and you’ve got to accept it.”
The conversation went on from there but Chris turned away. He didn’t need to hear anymore.
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At the club with Brie and Ben, everything went better than Elsa could have expected. Or, at least it started off that way. Ben and Chris hit it off, and Brie thought he was really great.
“Good,” Elsa smiled when she and Brie excused themselves to the ladies’ room and discussed how the visit was going so far. “Because I really like him. I mean -- I think I love him, Brie.”
Brie snorted. “Love him?”
Elsa giggled. “Is it that obvious?”
“No, Els, I mean … he’s not exactly in our circle, you know? He’s nice and he’s got his own business, but he’s never going to be able to get you into the places that you can get him into. Maybe it’s just about the money.”
“It’s not about the money,” Elsa replied quietly. “I don’t care about the money, and up until now, I didn’t think you did, either.”
She dropped her lipstick into her bag and left the restroom on her own. Back at the table, Ben and Chris were laughing, having a grand old time. Elsa hated to ruin it, especially after supper with her mother, but she couldn’t stay here and be around Brie any longer.
“I’m not feeling well. Do you mind if we go home? I’ll call Samuel to come and pick us up.”
Chris looked surprised but nodded. “Of course. Do you need water before we go?”
Elsa shook her head. Brie had caught up to them by then, and silently took a seat next to Ben. The men began to catch on to what was happening, so they shook hands, and Chris led Elsa out to the sidewalk.
“What happened in there?”
Elsa shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She’s just not the person I thought she was.”
Chris took a deep breath. “None of them think you’re that serious about me, do they? It’s all right, Els. Be honest with yourself. We had fun and now we’re done. I get it.”
“No, it’s not like that!” Elsa insisted. “It’s exactly the opposite! Do you think I didn’t know it was a possibility things would go this way? You’re not the person my mother or my best friend thought I would end up with, but I don’t give a flying fuck!”
“Maybe you should start looking at things like they are,” Chris suggested. “You’ve got the world at your disposal. I’m a fuckin’ nobody from the shit part of Boston. What can I ever give you? Nothing. I don’t deserve you, Elsa!”
The world stopped for a full seven seconds, it seemed; certainly, their world stopped. Elsa wanted to yell more, to push him, to tell him what an idiot he was. Instead, she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck.
“I love you,” she said, not even caring that her voice was watery with the tears running down her cheeks. “You’re a good man, Chris Evans, and I love you. You’ve never let anything hurt me, and that’s all I need to know. You say you don’t deserve me -- that alone tells me that you do.”
Chris’s arms slid around her waist and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “I love you, too, Elsa. I love you, so much.”
They stood like that on the downtown New York sidewalk until Samuel arrived to take them back to the penthouse.
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Tags: @themtbmbgirl​​​​​ @keithseabrook27​​​​​​ @ulovemelightsout​​​​​​ @rosie2801​​​​​​ @professorkrasinski​​​​​​
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October Drabble #11 (Pogue Parry)
(Previously)
But the more he interacted with her the more she showed how loyal she was, how selfless she could be. She was passionate, empathetic and had her set of convictions. They could have open conversations where she had the ability to see both sides of the argument and still play devil’s advocate. He didn’t realize how much she’d affected him until he saw Kate at Nicky’s with some guy.
He thought he would always feel some type a way when he saw her with anyone else. He just felt pity for the dude. He smiled to himself. He was whipped and they weren’t even going out yet.
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Sálome hadn’t known what to expect when she moved to Ipswich. She didn’t even know it’d be permanent at the time. She certainly didn’t think she’d find Mr. Right in the form of one Pogue Parry.
🎃
Slowly the group went from meeting at Nicky’s to meeting at Sal’s place. She’d inherited a large chunk of change from her late grandfather and used that money to buy a modest house with nice middle-aged, well-meaning neighbors. Thank Jesus for tall privacy fences. They would’ve gathered at the Danvers’ but Evelyn didn’t need the temptation.
“I can’t believe you bought a house,” Sarah said, beer in had.
“Yeah, turns out granddad wasn’t completely useless.,” she replied sarcastically.
The guys were busy watching some game on TV while Sálome and Sarah stood at the small kitchen island. The pair watched quietly before Sarah spoke again.
“What do you think about Pogue?” she asked in a low voice.
Pogue went from the hot mechanic to best friend’s boyfriend’s friend in all of three minutes. The past month and a half he’d turned into a semi-constant presence. In that time, she found out he could be a sarcastic asshole but would also be honest as hell. His obvious attractiveness was a bonus.
“Well…I wouldn’t not give him a chance,” her friend laughed, “but I don’t know if it would work.”
Sarah pouted, “Why wouldn’t it?”
“You know how I am with feelings.”
“Fine,” she said, defeated.
Truthfully, she’d always seen herself as the eternal third wheel. There had been a boyfriend years before but he turned out to be a lesson she would’ve rather missed. Since then, she had unconsciously avoided romantic relationships. In that time, she’d learned a lot about herself, what actions she was prone to taking. When she said she hoped the guy she ended up with had the patience of a saint, she meant it.
🎃
Caleb proposed to Sarah a few weeks after that. And four months later, they were married.
“I still can’t believe it,” Sarah said one quiet girls’ night.
“After five years together, pretty sure marriage is the endgame.”
She looked at Sálome.
“You think five years is enough time to decide you want to spend the rest of your life together?”
Sálome was quiet for a bit.
“My parents only dated two years before they got married and they were only 18. I don’t necessarily think it depends on the amount of time you’re together. Some people make immediate connections while others take a bit longer.”
Sarah smiled at her.
“When you talk like that, I forget you’ve got a really short list of exes.”
“I learned from the dorks around me,” she raised one eyebrow, “including you.”
🎃
At first, Tyler and Reid were off being busy at Nicky’s. Caleb and Sarah started leaving their get-togethers early. Soon, it ended with Pogue being the only person to show up. By that time, she felt comfortable being in her home alone with him. There wasn’t always alcohol. Sometimes they’d have these deep conversations she’d only had with friends and family.
Then one night he asked her out. She said yes. She’d been hesitant to begin with. They went a grand total of seven dates before the rest of the group found out.
“Fina-fucking-lly,” Reid had said.
The rest turned out to be history.
🎃
It was easy being with him. If they had a fight, they’d talk it out. That was one of their rules, one of the first. Especially after he told her about Kate. She told him the only place she wanted to scream or yell was in the bedroom.
He gave her a promise ring after seven months, a callback to those first seven dates. At least that was what he told her.
Slowly, his things started accumulating at her house. He had possessions in every room. It was the reason she asked him to move in. He said, “yes.”
🎃
A year and a half later, the group celebrated the birth of Baby Danvers. Sálome was elated, as was the rest of the group. She saw how Pogue looked at the baby and it made her curious.
The entire time they’d been together, they’d never talked about marriage or baby carriages. That didn’t mean neither of them hated the idea. It just hadn’t crossed her mind.
🎃
He proposed to her one night as they were going about their usual routine.
“Do you see yourself spending the rest of you life with me?” He asked out of the blue.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed and she’d turned from him to put clothes in her drawers. When she went to face him, he was down on one knee behind her, holding up a small velvet box with a simple gold ring.
She didn’t think she’d turn into a crying hot mess like a every other person but she couldn’t help it. She was an emotional person damn it.
“It’s your turn to say, ‘Yes’, you know?” He had said.
And she did.
Their engagement was not nearly as short as Caleb and Sarah’s but wasn’t longer than a year. The wedding was simple, perfect for the pair. She learned at the reception that Pogue had called her father to ask for permission. She thought it was the cutest thing.
🎃
“You really don’t think you’re pregnant?” Sarah asked one visit with her baby boy.
Sálome had been irregular for a while but lately she’d been having stomach and cramping issues. She decided it was best to consult someone who had already been pregnant.
“I don’t know, maybe my body’s going through a weird phase right now. I’m sure it nothing.”
The subject was changed.
Pogue started noticing when she avoided certain foods when before it hadn’t been an issue.
“Are you okay?"  he asked.
She could tell he was worried but she told him everything was fine. She didn’t tell him what Sarah had said. He didn’t need to know if it didn’t end up being that.
The morning after, Pogue went into the shop early and wouldn’t be back until late. She thought it was the perfect time to humor her friend and buy some pregnancy tests. Even if she wasn’t, there was no harm in checking.
She dipped the stick, covered it, and placed a Facetime call to Sarah. She picked up after the third ring.
"Before you say anything, I just wanna let you know the only reason I’m doing this is for my peace of mind.”
“You bought the tests?"  She asked, "What are you going to do if it’s positive?”
“Call to set up an appointment for a blood test because I won’t believe it,” she paused, “I wouldn’t believe it until I saw an ultrasound to be pretty honest.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
Sálome looked away from the screen to just glance at the test. She gasped at what she saw: two very prominent lines. She cursed and Sarah laughed.
“Guess you better schedule that appointment,” Sarah said, laughter still present in her voice.
“Can it, Danvers, I know where you live.”
🎃
In two weeks she learned they were going to have a baby and she had the sonogram picture to prove it. She was at the very least 3 weeks pregnant. She wondered if she should tell Pogue. Did he want a baby? Were they ready? What if something went wrong? She had to tell him. So, she ran some errands and headed home to wait for him.
He came home tired as per usual. Also less observant. So much so, he missed the box sitting on the coffee table that should have been visible to him from the front door. It wasn’t until after he showered and walked past the living that he noticed it.
“What is that?” He asked, perplexed.
“Open it.”
“What is it?” He was suspicious.
“That would ruin the surprise.”
She saw all the emotions flash across his face. For a moment, he looked concerned. But it disappeared to be replaced by a genuine smile. He turned to her,  sonogram in hand.
“Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to have a baby,” he said disbelief in his voice.
They smiled at each other. They both thought of the entirety of their relationship. Neither of them thought they’d ever be in this situation until they met each other. For that, they were glad.
(That’s it for Part 2. Could be persuaded into writing another)
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let-it-raines · 5 years
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Rising from the Ashes (16/?)
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When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be.
And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.
As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.
Rating: Mature
A/N: I cannot thank you guys enough for reading this story. Lots of things are about to start happening, not all of them pleasant, and I simply ask that you trust me again. You know I’m a happy ending kind of girl 💙
Found on AO3: Beginning | Current
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Tag list: @blowmiakisscolin @jamif @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones  @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @thejollyroger-writer
-/-
Liam: Caleb is officially going to be our son, so if you’d like, you can tell Emma now!It’s no longer a secret!
Killian: Bloody hell. That’s fantastic!
Killian: I’m more than thrilled for you two, and I’ll have to call you tomorrow.
Liam: I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.
Killian: Welcome to the club. It’s the best one.
He’s got a smile on his face for the rest of the day after receiving Liam’s texts about he and Belle’s news about Caleb, and for how things have been lately, that’s something that he appreciates even more than usual. He’s been drowning himself in that all too familiar feeling of guilt, and it’s only when he’s occupied at work or with his family that he’s able for it to lessen, for the weight crushing his heart to lift to a bearable pain that allows him to breathe.
This, finding out that his brother and Belle get to fulfill a dream they’ve had for a good while, one that’s been breaking their hearts for years as they continuously fell short, helps to lift his spirits for a few minutes. Being a dad is his greatest joy in life. He understands that it’s not for everyone, that not everyone wants it, and he gets that. It’s difficult, emotional, disgusting sometimes, and causes more stress than many other things in his life. It’s all about personal preference and want, but when you want to be a parent, well, he doesn’t see how anyone could ever think that it’s not a wonderful blessing.
And that little boy, Caleb, is about to have more love and family than he knows what to do with.
He has to no idea how he’s going to get his family over to England this year to meet the lad, but it’s got to happen. Liam and Belle made the effort to be here for Ada’s birth and for so many milestones in Henry’s life that he can’t imagine not being around to meet this kid once he’s gotten a bit settled into life in a new home.
This is bloody magnificent.
It makes him happy when he hasn’t had a lot to feel happy about lately. Well, that’s not true. He falls asleep at night with the love of his life in his arms, and he wakes up in the morning and gets to take care and love these two children who are the lights of his life. Really, he has everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed about when he realized that he didn’t want to live the life of the bachelor Navy Captain forever.
He has everything in the palm of his hands.
He can feel it all slipping through his fingers.
It’s been exactly forty-seven days since he took Henry to therapy and saw Neal get into a car before returning back to the office, and even though he told himself that it was nothing and that Neal deserves his own time, he has not listened to his thoughts. In fact, he has run marathons with them and paid more attention to Neal’s every movement than he has those of his girlfriend’s.
One day he’d love to propose to Emma so as not to be nearly thirty-eight and still calling her his girlfriend when they share their entire life with each other.
Among other reasons such as loving her and wanting to commit to her in every way possible. Those being the most important.
And yet he can’t propose to her. Not now. Not when he’s harboring this secret that she would hate him for, that she will hate him for. He’d wanted to propose before Neal was found alive, and after he came home was not the time. He’d wanted to propose after they’d gotten back together in December, but it was too soon, their wounds still too fresh. He’s wanted to propose every day of this year, but he cannot ask Emma to marry him, to love him for the rest of their days, when he’s entirely sure that her ex-husband has been lying to all of them about what he’s been doing since he got home…and possibly before then.
He’s seen a lot of outlandish things in his life and in his time traveling to different countries, but thinking that Neal Cassidy is living some kind of secret life has got to be the most outlandish thought to ever cross his mind. It’s Neal, the man who he used to go out for drinks with, the man who he used to watch football matches with, the man who Emma once loved more than anyone in the world, the man who was living in his house until he officially moved to DC last week.
Neal Cassidy who is his friend.
Neal Cassidy who is his son’s father.
Of all of the things that make his thoughts horrible, he thinks the worst is that he could possibly accuse Henry’s dad of being someone other than who he says he is when Henry looks up to Neal.
It’s that thought that has made him walk miles back and forth while weighing everything in his mind.
But his thoughts of protecting Emma and Henry, Ada too, are the ones that have made him decide that if he can’t stop thinking about it, there must be something to it. And when Kyle Thomasson came up to Neal at the zoo and started talking about their time together in London, that’s when he knew for sure that something is not adding up, that something is not right. It could have been a mistake, yeah. Neal’s face has been plastered across the television and online, but Kyle seemed sure enough that it stuck with him.
Neal Gold.
Of course, Emma pulled him away from listening so that he could hear that his little girl had just said his name for her first word. He wanted to mark the moment as one of the best in his life, but he was distracted and confused, his mind focusing on everything else. But he wouldn’t let the craziness completely take away from the moment. He simply wouldn’t. Too much has already been taken from his family, and he wanted to treasure the fact that his little girl with her chubby cheeks and hazel eyes said his name. He wanted to be able to appreciate that the little girl who he was terrified of being a bad father to, is still terrified of being a bad father to, loves him enough to say his name before she says any other words. He knows that there are other factors, that it’s really her saying sounds, but he loves whenever she babbles his name to him.
He can’t keep having family moments taken away from him. He won’t keep letting it happen.
Which is why he’s spent his nights compiling every oddity about Neal to try to make sense of his thoughts and his stories. While Neal was still living with them, he took the time to notice more about him than anyone would expect him to. If he’s honest with himself, he’s gone too far with his investment, with his theories, and he’s ashamed of it all. He’s deeply ashamed, but he doesn’t think he’s wrong to think that every duck isn’t in its row and that every domino isn’t perfectly placed. If he were to tip one over, he’s sure they’d all still fall, just not in the right way.
It’s all been a perfect merry go round of thoughts, the same words repeating over and over again in his mind so that he can’t make them stop, so that he can’t make them fall away.
Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.
But now that he suspects something, now that Neal is out of the house and not sharing a breakfast table with him, it’s been easier to try to make his thoughts more coherent. It’s been easier to know that he’d lost his mind and started following the man to his therapy appointments and support groups. Sometimes Neal went into the buildings. Other times he didn’t, either getting into another random car and driving away or never showing up to the right addresses to begin with. When he got into the cars, Killian tried to follow him, but traffic and crafty driving had always made him lose his tail. He’s an idiot for not being able to get it done, but he’s also an idiot for thinking that he should be following Neal.
A step too far and a step too short all at once.
If Neal found out…it’d be all over. He would destroy everything that mattered to him over some dumb hunch that he’s convinced himself is real and reliable and important in keeping all of those things (those people – Emma, Henry, and Ada) together in the little bubble of happiness that they’ve finally found after so much heartbreak and heartache, shattered pieces still littering the floor.
He cannot shatter them again.
He’s going to.
He’s an idiot for lying to Emma about his slightly late days at the office every now and then. They’re not supposed to have any secrets, but he can’t tell her about this. Not yet. Maybe when he knows more, when he has more information. He needs to know something solid for sure before talking to Emma. She believes him about a lot of preposterous things, but this…this would be asking too much.
There’s just…something is not right. That much he knows for sure. Neal is hiding something, and he doesn’t know what. But it’s there. It has to be. There are so many things that don’t make sense, so many oddities and disconnections that simply don’t make sense. Every day of his life is spent connecting metaphorical dots and actualizing how they would play out in real life, and he can’t get his mind to stop doing that here.
He’s terrified, actual chills seeping into his bones and settling until there’s a hollow ache, that something, someone, is going to hurt his family. He’s terrified that it’s going to be someone other than him as he tries to figure out why Neal was lying to them about where he spends his time.
What if Neal hurts Emma? What if he hurts Henry? What if they’ve welcomed him back into their lives with open arms only for him to be lying to them?
There are several facts that Killian has always known. They’ve been a constant in the past decade of his life, and he never thought he’d change them. His world has been built around them, and they were set in stone.
He met Emma Swan on November tenth, two thousand and eight.
Emma Swan fell in love with Neal Cassidy, and they had a wonderful marriage that was full of life and light that the both of them were missing during their childhoods.
Emma Swan gave birth to Henry Cassidy on September fourth, two thousand and eleven, and she and Neal were the proudest parents on the planet.
Neal Cassidy deployed for Afghanistan on October third, two thousand and eleven.
Neal Cassidy was declared missing and presumably dead on December eleventh, two thousand and eleven.
Killian kissed Emma for the first time on April twenty third, two thousand and fifteen, and it was the most glorious moment of his life until she told him that she loved him for the first time on August seventh of that same year.
They moved in together in Alexandria, bought a house and moved to Portland, continued to date and raise their son with as much love as either of them could muster, and on May seventeenth, two thousand and nineteen Ada Grace Jones was born and he knew for a fact that his heart could never be so full of love.
His life was practically perfect in the way that lives can be perfect.
And then it wasn’t.
On September thirteenth, two thousand and nineteen, Neal Cassidy was found alive and rescued in Afghanistan where he was a prisoner of war for just shy of eight years.
Killian’s entire life was flipped, twisted, revived, and changed.
These are things he can’t dispute, that he can’t change. He’s always thought that. For a long time he lived in a world of facts, a place where only black and white existed, no murky gray filling the middle. His father left him, his mother died, and his brother moved back to England instead of staying in America with him. It was how it was, and that’s how he lived.
That’s no longer true.
Because what if everything he knows was a lie?
What if? What if? What if?
He thought Emma and Neal had a great marriage, and even though it had its bright moments, he now knows that it was darkly shaded in variations of gray, merging into black at some points, rarely merging back into the light.
He thought Neal was always a proud parent to Henry, that he was as excited for that baby to be born as Killian was for Ada to make her entrance, but that fact was all a lie too.
He thought that Neal was dead, but he wasn’t. He was a prisoner of war being tortured and beaten for information he likely didn’t have.
But what if he wasn’t? What if that fact isn’t true either?
That’s the crutch of the entire situation. That’s the crazy thought that keeps replaying over and over again. Something about Neal isn’t adding up, and if some of the things Killian has known for years aren’t true, who’s to say that others can’t be as well?
He’s ashamed of himself for thinking this way when his focus should be on making sure that Henry is okay now that his dad is living away from him. He’s ashamed that he’s thinking awful thoughts about a man who is his friend and is a part of his family, but he’s not going to be ashamed if he’s right about this all.
Because what if Neal wasn’t a prisoner of war all of that time? It’s quite possibly the most preposterous thing he’s ever thought, but crazy thoughts turn out to be true every day. What if Neal was deployed and simply…never came home? It doesn’t make sense, he knows, but when he thinks about the man who they ran into at the zoo, the man who was convinced that he knew Neal in London, it…does.
It makes sense because Killian remembers being in London with his family and thinking that he saw Neal at the park. It’s a large city, one that anyone could discreetly make their way through, but what if he really did see Neal that day? What if Kyle really did spend his evenings drinking ale and watching football with Neal at a pub?
But it doesn’t explain anything, not really. Why would Neal live in London instead of coming home? How would he dodge the military like that? How would he create a new identity? Why would he? What would he have been doing in London all of this time? Did he check up on Emma and Henry at all? And if he was in London, how did he become captured again? How was he in that cell for the SEALs to rescue him?
That’s the part he can’t add together no matter how hard he tries. He cannot think of any possible explanation for that. Not a one.
He also can’t think of how any of this relates to what’s going on now. He can’t figure out why Neal had lied, why he would skip out on therapy and dinner and go places he tells no one about. He can’t figure out why the man would come home and put such effort into building a life with Henry (and Emma) if he really did stay away from them for eight years voluntarily? What is Neal doing, and why is he doing it?
Nothing adds up.
Nothing at all.
There’s no way in hell he can figure any of this out on his own.
When he walks in his front door after work, he feels drained, all of the life practically sucked out of him despite having a good day at work and beaming over Liam and Belle’s news. Shedding his suit jacket, he hangs it on the hook by the door and takes the few steps into the kitchen where Henry is sitting at the table with notebooks spread out and his hand gripping onto his pencil as he does his homework. Ada is working on standing, her little legs holding her up as she holds onto a kitchen chair, cruising a bit. God, she’s growing up so fast with her first birthday next month, and he wonders how the hell it’s all gone by so quickly. He’s not ready for his baby to be one, but it’s not as if he can stop time.
Maybe he can try.
“Hey, Henry,” he greets, clapping his hand down on his shoulder and kissing the top of his head. “Did you have a good day at school? You excited about your field trip to the lighthouse tomorrow?”
“Yeah, but Mary Margaret says we have to do a project too, which is boring.”
“Oh come on, projects are fun! Your mum and I will help anyways, okay? Besides, you get to go to the top of the lighthouse and see everything. I feel like that makes the project worth it.”
“Maybe.” Henry shrugs before pressing up in his chair and cupping his hands around Killian’s ear. “Mom is making broccoli tonight, and it smells so bad.”
“But it tastes so good,” he chuckles, knowing that Henry isn’t going to change his mind on the vegetable.
“Dada,” Ada mumbles, reaching over to him as she guides herself along the table only to plop down, hard, against the wood floor before scrambling herself back up again.
“Hello, my little love,” he smiles, reaching down to pick her up and press a smacking kiss against her cheek that makes her giggle while he runs his fingers over her stomach and over the soft material of her dress. “Did you have a good day too? Solve any mathematical equations at nursery? Make a new best friend? Grow a few new inches?”
“Ada can’t do math, Daddy.”
“Oh, you’re right,” he laughs, flashing a smile at Henry. “She can’t do math quite yet, but who knows? Maybe your sister will be a little Einstein.”
“That’s a TV show.”
“It is indeed.”
Emma rounds the corner at that moment, yanking at her shorts to pull them up. She must have run to the restroom or something and trusted Ada and Henry not to break the house down in her two minute absence.
“Hey,” she says, switching her direction and walking toward him, pressing up on her toes and kissing his cheek, “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m very good at sneaking around.”
“That is not as funny of a joke as you think it is.”
She’s being playful, but he realizes the truth in his choice of words. He shouldn’t have said that. Not at all.
“All of my jokes are funny.”
“No they’re not,” Henry very helpfully supplies.
“See,” Emma laughs, backing up from him and walking back toward the stove, “Henry agrees with me, so obviously the two of us are right.”
“Obviously,” he agrees, putting Ada back on the ground so that she can keep propping herself up before he walks to the kitchen island and sits down on a barstool. “So I’m told that we’re having broccoli tonight, and it is not popular among the peanut gallery.”
“It never is, but the cool thing about being the mom is that what I say goes.”
“Very, very true.”
-/-
-/-
“I hate you,” Henry screams at Emma, his face as red as a ripe tomato while tears stream down his face.
“That is not okay, Henry,” Emma says calmly, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a straight line. He’s got no clue what to do here, no wise words of wisdom. No one ever really prepared him for what to do when his girlfriend’s four year old decides to yell at her because she said no to a box of cookies at the supermarket. “We do not say that.”
“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
“Henry.”
“You’re mean.”
“Henry, I understand that you want a cookie and think they’re yummy, but not right now.”
He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly mimicking Emma in his posture all while Killian is shocked into silence over what to do. Or what not do really. It isn’t his place to parent, and he feels stuck between that metaphorical rock and hard place as all of this unfolds.
“I hate you.”
“Well, I love you.”
Emma and Henry go back and forth for what has to be ten more minutes before Henry calms himself down and Emma takes him into his bedroom where he hears them quietly whisper to each other, a gentle hush after the absolute chaos of earlier. He feels awkward and out of place. Henry is honestly the first kid he’s ever been around for such a large amount of time, and he’s usually only here for the good moments. He’s Henry’s mum’s fun boyfriend who takes him to the park and buys him ice cream because them going out together is supposed to be a treat for the lad. But ever since he and Emma started dating, he’s seen so much more, seen the darker, harsher sides of parenting that he rarely saw before, and he’s still in an odd limbo of not knowing what his place is.
He and Emma love each other, and he loves Henry. It’s just…odd.
Grabbing a glass of water, he takes a few steps into the living room a sits down in the large lounge chair, rubbing his thumb over the rim of the cup. This is not what he was expecting when he came over for dinner tonight, and he’s nervous for how Emma is going to be feeling when she comes out of Henry’s bedroom.
Liam: It’s now two in the morning, and I’ve been watching a show about baking for five hours.
Liam: I’m not sure if I’ve ever baked a day in my life.
Killian: Great British Bake Off?
Liam: Yep.
Killian: If you have a cup of tea next to you, you’re fulfilling all kinds of stereotypes.
Liam: I did just tell my wife that we had a jolly good shag, so I feel like this is true.
Killian: That’s more than I ever needed to know.
Belle: Your brother did not say that, and I agree. That’s more than you ever needed to know.
Killian: Amen, love.
He’s typing another message when he hears a door shut behind him and sees Emma emerge from Henry’s room, her hair now pulled up into a bun on top of her head, the loose blonde strands falling on her forehead and down her neck. He opens his mouth to say something, to ask if she got Henry down for bed, but he doesn’t get the chance before Emma is unceremoniously plopping down into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck while her face burrows into his shoulder. He can feel her shoulders shake, her entire body quivering, and he can do nothing but rub his hand up and down her back while he rests his chin on the top of her head.
“Shh, shh,” he whispers, words failing him for how to comfort her when she’s showing him such a vulnerable side that he only gets to see when Emma can’t hold back her emotions anymore. She’s the strongest person he’s ever known, and her being vulnerable with him is another example of that. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
“He said that he hates me,” she mumbles against his neck, her lips touching his skin while her hair tickles just under his nose. “He hates me, and I don’t know what to do about that.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s simply upset.”
“B-b-but why did he say it? He’s never done that before. I love him so much, and he hates me.”
“I don’t know,” he soothes, wracking his brain for the right thing to say, “but I know that he doesn’t mean it, Swan. He could never. That boy loves you more than anything.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Then we won’t. What do you want to do instead?”
Her arms tighten around his neck, and she twists her head to rest it on his shoulder, her cheek pressing against his t-shirt. “We can watch TV so that I can forget about the fact that I’m a terrible mother.”
“Emma – ”
“Please don’t.”
“But – ”
“Killian, I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nods his head and moves his hand to find the remote, turning it on and flipping through the channels until he decides on a rerun of Oceans Eleven, figuring that it’s entertaining enough to keep them occupied and won’t at all remind Emma of why she’s upset. Henry’s four. He’s not some criminal mastermind planning a heist of a casino. This should be fine.
And it is. They sit in silence for a long time, Emma continuously adjusting herself in his lap while his hand slowly moves back and forth over her back and her waist. He thinks that she’s asleep, that the little puffs of air that are being breathed out on his neck are a good sign of that, but then she starts speaking.
“I know he doesn’t hate me. He loves me. I mean, I’m his mom, and I’m trying so hard to be a good one. But it still stings, you know? That kid wreaked havoc on my body for months, but I loved him. I do love him. More than anything in the world. And all I want is to not screw him up. I didn’t have a mom for most of my life, and I don’t have Neal here to help me and to help me make these decisions. I have…well, I have you, and I’m so thankful for you. You have to know that. I just – ”
“You had a rough night,” he finishes for her, leaning his head back against the cushions so that he can look in her eyes, the green especially bright under the tears that are covering her irises. “It’s okay. And I’ll say it as many times as I need to, but you don’t have to do anything alone, not when I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it,” he promises, pressing forward to kiss her eyebrow. “I love you, Emma.”
“I love you too. You’re a good man.”
“Oh I don’t know about that. I’m probably the reason Henry wants a cookie so badly. He does get sweets when we go out.”
“He wants them because he’s four. That’s how it works.”
“Had he calmed down before he went to sleep?”
“Yeah,” Emma sighs, her fingers tracing patterns at the tape of his neck, moving between his skin and his hair. “He did. He was so angry, you know? But we went through our routine and then he told me he loved me right before he drifted off to sleep. So I felt better even if I still feel like absolute shit.”
“Tomorrow will be better. Would it be totally hypocritical if we indulged in some sweets to make you feel better?”
“It would, but I’m the mom. What I say goes.”
-/-
-/-
The rest of their evening is spent feeding both Ada and Henry, the two surprisingly similar in their resistance to eating vegetables despite the age gap, but they manage to get it done, as they always do, even if there’s a little kicking and screaming along the way. He helps Henry with his homework before Neal calls, something he’s done every day since he moved. It’s usually the highlight of Henry’s evening, and all things considered, the lad is handling it well. Killian can tell that he misses Neal, that he misses having him around to spend time with, but he’s doing okay.
Henry loves Neal just as Neal loves Henry, and it’s what makes all of Killian’s thoughts about Neal so much more heartbreaking.
He has to be wrong. He has to be.
He knows that he’s not.
Eventually the get the kids to bed, Ada refusing to fall asleep more than usual, but once both of their bedroom doors are closed, he and Emma walk down the hall to their room and fall onto the mattress, their limbs spreading out in exhaustion while the ceiling fan turns above them.
“Liam and Belle are adopting a two-year-old boy named Caleb.”
“I’m sorry. What?” Emma gasps, quickly turning on the bed until she’s sitting up, her hair falling down and creating a curtain over his face. “Did you just say they’re adopting?”
“I did.”
She slaps his chest, her hit far more powerful than she probably realizes. It always is. “How long have you known about this? When did it start? They’re really getting to be parents? Is the paperwork official? Oh God I hope the paperwork is official because if it’s not – ”
“The paperwork is official,” he promises, reaching his hand up to cup her cheek, soft skin against his rough palm while he tries to stop the spiral she’s going down. “I’ve known since Christmas, but Liam asked me not to say anything because he didn’t want to jinx it, I guess. Or maybe he didn’t want everyone to get their hopes up and get Belle’s hopes up when it wasn’t a for sure thing.”
Emma’s lips press together as she nods her head in agreement before a smile breaks out on her face, one that actually takes his breath away. The could also be her elbow on his rib, but it’s probably both.
“I get that. I mean, I didn’t try for Henry, but we tried for Ada and you know how difficult that was even though we only had to wait a little under a year. I can’t – I can’t imagine going through what they’ve been through.”
He taps his thumb against her bottom lip, agreeing with every word that she just said. He’s had a lot of heartache in his lifetime, but he can’t imagine going through that.
“Me either, love.”
Emma sighs before falling back over on the bed, the mattress squeaking a bit as one of the throw pillows topples onto the ground. “I can’t believe you managed to keep that a secret from me for so long. I’m impressed, Jones.”
His heart lurches at that, guilt beginning to thrum through his veins so that his blood somehow both boils and goes cold. She has no idea what he’s going through, and he doesn’t want her to know.
God, he’s such an asshole.
He may very well be the worst man on the planet. How many times does he have to think that before it comes true?
“Your superpower is obviously a little off kilter,” he teases, twisting his head to the side to smile at her, forcing the joy onto his face.
“Never,” she laughs, and his heart breaks a little more. “I’m so freaking happy for them. I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunt again. Can I call Belle in the morning?”
“You could call her right now, but I’m not sure she’ll answer.”
“True.”
“How was therapy today?” he asks, changing the subject as he gets up from bed and begins undoing his jeans, shimmying out of them and folding them.
“Weird,” Emma admits, sitting up and propping herself on her elbows. “I mean, I like Dr. Lawrence, but I’m just not used to talking to anyone but you about all of the craziness that’s going on up in my head.”
“Considering I have an equal amount of crazy going on in mine, it’s likely a good thing you’re still talking to someone else. You and Henry have been through a lot.”
“So have you.”
He clicks his tongue, disagreement on his lips even though he knows she’s right. But because he’s the biggest asshole in the world and can’t talk about any of the thoughts he’s having right now, he unbuttons his shirt, letting it hang off of his shoulders, and stalks over to Emma, leaning over her and caging her in.
“Aye, but I’m far more interested in you and I not talking than anything else right now.”
“Really now?” she purrs, looping her arms around his neck and arching her back up so that she can ghost her lips over his.
“Aye.”
“Well then, Captain, I’d say you’re going to struggle then because you talk far too much during sex.”
“I’ve never heard any complaints from you.”
“That’s because I can’t get a word in edgewise.”
He chuckles at that, something deep and low, and for the next few minutes as their lips and bodies move with and against each other, he forgets every awful, dark thought he’s been having for the past few weeks.
-/-
“You like your burgers well done, right?” Mary Margaret asks him as she sets the meat out on a tray the next day at their lunch with the Nolans.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Okay good. That’s how the kids like it too. That’s also how Emma cooks them because grilling isn’t really her thing.”
“She’s a woman of many talents, but that is not one of them.”
“I’m literally standing right here,” Emma groans, taking a sip of her lemonade as she messes with her sweater, fingering at the frayed edges that hang over the waistband of her jeans. “And I can so grill. It’s not that hard.”
“Sure, love.”
Emma cuts her eyes at him, the right side of her lips moving up despite his teasing insult. She’s been in such a good mood today, practically skipping as she walks, and he loves to see her happy like that.
“If you keep talking like that, you’re not going to get to eat.”
“Oh no. However will I live if my girlfriend doesn’t feed me? You know I can’t do anything without being waited on by you. I’m a helpless man.”
“That is not even funny.”
He winks. “I know.”
“You two are just so cute,” Mary Margaret sighs. He’d honestly forgotten she was in the room. He doesn’t know how, but he did. “I can’t get over it. It’s like watching my little sister fall in love.”
“We’ve been together for four years. I think we’re pretty solidly there. You act like I’m a teenager.”
“Teenage Emma would have slapped me for saying something like that.” Mary Margaret smiles affectionately at Emma, and he can see the affection in Emma’s eyes, even if she sometimes gets annoyed with how Mary Margaret talks to her. “Now let’s go grill some burgers because I’m starving, and I think the boys may throw a riot if they don’t eat soon.”
“Henry and Leo or David and Killian?”
“David and Killian, obviously.”
He shakes his head at the two of them as Mary Margaret picks up the tray of meat and walks outside, Emma quickly following behind her. He’d offered to cook today, but Mary Margaret insisted that she would do it since it wouldn’t take so long. It’s nice coming over to their house to spend some time with them, even if David isn’t home from work yet, having to work a shift on Saturday for one of his cases. He should be home soon, though, and it’s part of what keeps Killian inside the Nolans’ kitchen instead of going outside with everyone else. The other is that Ada is currently napping in her car seat, and since they don’t have a baby monitor here, he didn’t want to leave her inside by herself. They’ve done it plenty of times before, always coming to check on her every few minutes, but he didn’t want to leave his girl right now.
Grabbing a beer bottle out of the fridge, he twists open the top and settles down at the kitchen island, scooting up in the barstool and thumbing at his phone, replying to texts Liam and Belle have sent him today. Emma called Belle first thing this morning and ever since then his brother has been sending pictures they have of Caleb. He’s the cutest thing with the freckles spread across his face and the red hair gracing his head. He looks happy too, and that’s all that really matters to any of them. He’s got some good people who want to be his parents.
He also responds to a few texts from Neal. They haven’t shipped all of his clothes yet, so Killian has to remember to box all of those up and send them on Monday or Tuesday. Henry also wants to send him some more drawings, so he probably needs to get a protective notebook to do that in.
Ada coos in her seat, and he glances over only to see that she’s still asleep, twisting a bit. He smiles before going back to his phone, typing in a few reminders for tonight as he hears the click of the front door, heavy footsteps following it as David comes out of the entryway and into view.
“Just make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
“Always,” he laughs, stretching his arms over his head to ease some of the aches that he’s feeling. “Everyone is out in the backyard. I’m watching Ada while she sleeps.”
“She’ll be fine on her own.”
“I know.” He takes a sip of his drink while David takes off his coat and his badge, placing them on the counter top. “I don’t mind spending some time by myself either.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah? Why would you even ask?”
David points at him, circling his finger around him, and Killian gulps, the façade that he’s been putting on for weeks now crumbling much faster than he thought it would. If he could tell anyone his thoughts, it’d be David. He could always tell Liam, but Liam wouldn’t – Liam wouldn’t know enough to help him. David would. David knows Neal, has known him for nearly as long as he and Emma have, and David might…would David believe him? Would David help him? Could he? He’s a detective. He has resources, far more than Killian does.
Of course, David might also think he’s batshit crazy and tell Emma, making him lose everything he has.
Everything.
“You look like you’ve eaten some rotten sushi.”
“What a pleasant thing to say.”
David shrugs. “It’s the truth, so I ask again, you okay? Are you and Emma okay? God, please tell me that you and Emma are okay.”
He nods his head up and down before leaning forward and rubbing his fingers between his brows, trying to even out the lines, those of age and stress. This is all too much for him. This would be too much for anyone, and he’s not sure that he can carry the weight alone anymore.
Add another notch to his asshole ranking for laying it all down on David as well.
“We’re fine. Well,” he huffs, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he sits up, straightening his back and not bothering to take a breath, “except for the fact that I think my girlfriend’s ex-husband is some kind of bloody liar who wasn’t really captured for all of that time he was gone.”
The words escape his lips before he can stop them, tumbling out as quickly and as smoothly as the beer runs down his throat. He needs something stronger. He needs rum. Hell, he doesn’t even like beer that much, but it’s something for when he doesn’t want or need to get a little intoxicated.
He kind of wishes he was drunk right now. It would numb the pain he’s feeling and give him a plausible excuse as to the absolute bullshit he just spewed to David.
Honestly, though, he can’t focus on the erratic beating of his heart or the way his lips suddenly feel dry when all he can focus on is David’s lips continuously parting and pressing together, his eyes widened into round saucers, and all of the color on his face palling to a white that matches the white of his knuckles as he grasps them into fists. The man must think he’s insane. He is insane. He is.
But he’s not.
“What the fuck?” David sputters, stumbling back a bit before he straightens himself out, shoulders hunching forward before they push back into their usual broad state.
“Exactly.”
“No, seriously,” David starts again, some of the color coming back into his face as he runs his hand through his hair, making it come out of its styled place, “what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Neal. I’m talking about Neal. Something is wrong there, and I can’t live thinking this by myself anymore and you’re the poor sap who gets to listen to it all.”
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.”
“Why are you telling me? Why not Emma? I mean, she could talk you down.”
He laughs again, but it gets stopped, the sound turning into a quiet whisper. “Dave I can’t – I can’t…” He has to stop talking, a sob getting caught in his throat while he massages his face with his fingers in a desperate attempt to calm himself down, all of the emotions beginning to fall loose from the tight hold that he’s had on them now that he’s spoken the words aloud. “I can’t let her get hurt again. She doesn’t deserve it. Emma has been through more than anyone. She was abandoned at birth, had a bad marriage where her husband disappeared and she was left to raise a kid alone, and then that husband came back from the dead. And yet she has trusted me with her heart. I can’t break it. I can’t do that to her.”
“Killian, I think you’re being paranoid. I think maybe you’re jealous of Neal and – ”
“I’m not bloody jealous of Neal,” he barks, slamming his hand down on the kitchen counter, only quieting when he remembers his daughter sleeping a few feet away from him. “I’m fucking pissed at him because something is happening. Something doesn’t match up. Something isn’t right, and I am terrified that whatever is going on is going to hurt Emma and Henry.”
He can feel the tears streaming down his cheek, a hot sting pressing behind his eyes. This can’t be happening. It can’t. He’s going crazy. He’s imagining things. He has to be.
Why can’t he make up his mind?
“Hey, Hey,” David soothes, his voice a quiet whisper, while he leans over the counter and places his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I don’t want Emma to get hurt either. I love her too.”
“She’s my life,” he croaks, finally looking up at David again. “I have watched her go through so much pain, even the pain I have caused, and I can’t do it again. Not like this. So I need you to help me, okay? I don’t know how. I don’t know what I want you to look into, but something is wrong with Neal. I don’t know, mate. I don’t – for some reason I think he wasn’t captured for all of this time, that he was somehow free. It doesn’t make any sense, but I – ”
“I believe you, okay?” David promises, looking around his kitchen to make sure no one has come inside from the backyard. “You’re right. Something about Neal is off. I haven’t had the opportunity to notice like you, but there are definitely more oddities than before. I just…Killian, he works for the federal government. They’ve screened him. If he was up to something, they’d know.”
“But what if they’re not screening the right person? To them he’s Neal Cassidy, a war hero who’s been gone for eight years. There’s nothing to screen. But what if he’s…what if he’s been going by a different identity. When we were in DC a few weeks ago, this guy came up to him and called him Neal Gold. Neal insisted that the man just knew him from TV, you know? And had gotten the name messed up. But he kept saying that they used to go to The Three Kings in London together. And, yeah, it could have been a mistake, but Dave, I swear that I saw someone who looked just like Neal when Emma and I were in London two years ago. I didn’t think anything of it but…what if that was actually him?”
David doesn’t say anything. He stares in him in silence, his fingers tapping against the counter the only sound besides the pounding of his heart in his chest.
“Fuck. What if you’re right?”
“I know,” he sighs, the weight that’s been pushing him down lifting off of him a little bit. Not much. He’s still hiding things from Emma when he promised he’d never do that. He’s still holding the cards to rip both Emma and Henry apart. He’s holding the cards to have his family ripped from him again, and this time it won’t be for two weeks. It could be forever. “What if I am? I don’t want to be, but what if Neal has been living some kind of secret life? And if he has...why the hell has he come back?”
“Listen, this is crazy. Flat out insane, and this stays between you and me because this is not something that I’m supposed to do, but if you can give me all of the information you have, I’ll do what I can to look into it. You don’t need to be messing with any of this shit.”
“Okay, I can – thank you because I – ”
The kitchen door slams closed, and all of the words on his lips die as Emma comes into the room, her hair falling down over her shoulders and this effervescent smile painted on her lips. She looks beautiful. Happy. And he doesn’t deserve her.
He has never deserved her a day in his life.
“Woah, why so serious guys?” she laughs, her hands ghosting over his back as she grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge, placing it on the counter. When neither of them say anything, she speaks again, “Babe? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lies, plastering a smile on his face as he turns to look at her, allowing her to place her hands on her chest. She doesn’t believe him, her brows pinched together in distrust.
“What are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing, love,” he says again, wishing he could have thought of other words.
“Killian, I know when you’re lying. Superpower or whatever. I swear it still works.”
“Aye, I just…I think I just desperately need to kiss you right now.”
He leans down to kiss her, to press his lips against hers and feel them be connected, but Emma sways back, her head moving around while she laughs.
“No, seriously. Talk to me. Ignore the fact that my brother is awkwardly standing right next to us.”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” David says, sympathetically shrugging before he walks away and leaves Killian to fight this battle all on his own when he finally felt like he had someone on his side.
Emma looks back to him, her eyes large and pleading, the green as bright as ever, and she slides her hands from his chest until they’re wrapped around his neck as she sways further into him.
“Sometimes I’m overwhelmed is all,” he answers honestly, knowing that he can’t lie to her even if he’s leaving out the truth. “I know feelings are easier for me than for you, but sometimes they’re still hard, you know? I thought I was going to lose you, to lose everything I had, and that does something to a man, even months afterward.” “You’re never going to lose me,” she promises, her gaze never leaving his. “That’s not something you have to worry about.”
“Aye, I know. It still affects me, you know?”
“I know.” Emma presses up on her toes and gently slides her lips over his, the soft warmth that always radiates from Emma consuming him and grounding him, making every single one of his worries fade away if only for the thirty seconds that Emma is gently sucking on his bottom lip. “I love you, Killian Jones. You’re a good man and a good dad. Nothing is ever going to change that.”
“I love you too, and I hope so.”
She tilts her head to the side, that same happy little smile on her face that he loves. “Why don’t you come outside and come play with the kids on the swing set? Your son says you’re the best at getting him really high off the ground, and your daughter just kind of babbles words. But those words are our names, so it’s super cute. We can easily wake her up and be selfish even if we’ll have to pay for it later.”
“I’ll be right out, love.”
Her eyes squint the slightest bit, her gaze entirely focused on him as she studies him. He hopes that he’s not giving anything away, that he’s not letting her know, but he already knows that he has failed.
Emma’s hand moves up to caress his cheek, the softness brushing against the hair on his cheeks, and he closes his eyes and leans into her touch, letting her support him for a moment. “You sure you’re okay? Because you know I’m always here to talk when you’re ready. It’s just us. No walls, no secrets. Just us.”
“I promise I’ll tell you everything later. I’m not…I’m not trying to hide anything from you. It’s simply not the right time yet.”
She gets a little smile on her face then, her eyes lighting up even more than they were, and he realizes that he’s really gone and done it now. Because what else could Emma possibly think he’s hiding from her and only sharing with her brother? She’s waiting on him to propose. She wants him to propose, and that ring is still sitting in his uniform pocket, likely collecting dust.
He’s a bastard who does not deserve this woman’s heart.
“I can wait,” Emma practically sighs, that same smile growing bigger so that the lines around her eyes crease, “but I think you and I both know that there’s no such thing as the right time. And besides, you know me. You know what I’ll say to whatever little plots you’ve got going on in that big brain of yours.”
If only she knew.
“Aye,” he chuckles, twisting his head and kissing her palm, lingering for as long as he can while he simply breathes her in. “Go play with the kids, Swan. I’m going to run to the toilet and bring Ada outside with me. You know I have the bladder of a small child.”
“You do have to pee a lot on road trips.”
“Exactly.”
Emma walks away with a laugh on her face, the sound trailing behind her like music to his ears, but it only calms him for a moment before he’s running to David and Mary Margaret’s guest bathroom and slamming the door behind him, fumbling with the lock so that no one comes in. He can barely breathe, his stomach rolling, and before he can even try to stop it he’s vomiting into the toilet, his eyes filling with tears and his entire body shaking. This is all too much for him, and he just brought David into it too.
He’s likely ruining his entire life.
What is he going to do if everything that matters to him, if everything he has, is taken from him?
What is he going to do if he’s the one to rip everything away from Emma?
He can’t break her heart. She doesn’t deserve it. He’ll live a miserable life thousands of times. He’ll go to the end of the world for her. But he can’t let her get hurt again.
And yet he’s already set the wheels in motion and pushed the damn start button himself. 
88 notes · View notes
nikatyler · 5 years
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I have three weeks to learn everything for my last exams. Am I dying already? Well, no, but actually, yes. I kinda wish we had less time because this way, I’m going to waste so much of it procrastinating.
But maybe now that I’ve told you, I’ll decide to not procrastinate so that you can be proud of me or something. Maybe I’ll show that I am in fact capable of character development. Idk.
Yeah, I’m losing my mind. Just a little bit.
By the way, anyone else feels dead inside after watching the new Game of Thrones episode? You know, in the first part, I literally forgot what I was watching because everyone was so happy and celebrating and all that and then I got a reminder. This show is going to be the death of me.
desira-sims replied to your photo “Before we get to the replies, I want to quickly address something. I’m...”
I feel ya on social media. I recently got rid of a mobile game and the associated fb pages I was in. I’m no longer constantly checking my phone for it. It’s been nice taking a break from that. Focus on school, since that’s the most important thing. Come find us when you need a breather. ��
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photo “Before we get to the replies, I want to quickly address something. I’m...”
Yes, social media are basically time-eaters who steal the time which could be spend on writing or simming. Recently I've unsubscribed from several Instagram pages dedicated to memes as they my flooded dash and I spent too much time on them. Last two days I've played TS3 world adventures on my laptop without internet connection and it was great
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photo “Before we get to the replies, I want to quickly address something. I’m...”
And I barely paid attention to tumblr as well recently... Well the weather is so great that it would be a crime to spend time onlineXD
Ooh boy, if I was able to get rid of all the memes pages I follow, I’d have so much free time on my hands. But also, I mean...memes.
As for social media, I wish I could deactivate my Facebook account. I really wish. But sadly, all the people I know irl are there. I have to stay there to keep in touch with them. We still share a lot of school stuff there, I’d be lost without it. But those are the only reasons I’m there, I never post on it anymore. I actually deleted most of my photos and old status updates and unfollowed most pages.
I’m going to repeat myself here but I’m so glad I got rid of Twitter. I loved it there, but at the same time, it fueled my negativity. Even when I found and muted or straight up unfollowed the biggest sources of it, I wasn’t happy. So I just stepped into the daylight and let it go and it was the best decision I could make. Even though now tumblr will probably have to deal with my random thoughts. I need to find a special tag for that. Not just “nonsims” or “saviorhide”. Maybe “simmeronnie is losing it again”.
whysimstho replied to your photoset “Isla Paradiso didn’t disappoint at all. It was everything I’ve ever...”
Skyporn 24/7 sounds like a radio station
Lmao you’re not wrong. Or it could be something like a stream where they only record videos of really really gorgeous sky. I’d watch that. Seriously, shut up and take my money. I could stare at pretty sky all day.
desira-sims replied to your post “List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10...”
I recently went back and started this legacy. (Just got to the Gen 5 switch). I think Rachel is absolutely adorable.
Ahh, no way! I hope you’re having fun even though it’s a total mess :D I have to agree though, I love Rachel, she’s awesome.
Watch out, tiny gen 4 rant coming. When I have nothing else to do and I feel inspired, I rewrite gen 4 because I love these characters and they deserve a way better story. I consider the stories they got in the legacy the first drafts/starting point/base or something like that. So in some way, most of this stays in the “new canon”, it’s just thought through better or changed a little bit.
Okay, that wasn’t really a rant but seriously, stop me whenever I seem like I’m about to start rambling about gen 4.
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10...”
Number 4 - high five, Zoey, same with me!XD
5 actually, too
Ah, yes, same. Number 4...oh god. Been there, sort of. Just because I’m crushing on a person doesn’t mean I imagine being with them in bed all the freaking time. *looks at a friend who loves to imply that...when I’m actually a small innocent child who only knows woohoo from the sims and I’m not ashamed to admit it*
whysimstho replied to your photoset “Regan: “Court! Finally! How was the flight?” Courtney: “Not bad. I...”
Why is her face so funny to me ��
Well, it is kinda funny :D
philodendronandfoxes replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”
Anon needs to chill.
desira-sims replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”
Don't let them get to you. Something I have learned as I've grown older: Hobbies come and go. One minute you'll find enjoyment in something and the next it doesn't hold the same appeal. Some times you'll come back to that hobby and some times you never pick it up again. Taking a break is something everyone needs. They even tell new parents to take a little "me time" so that they don't get overwhelmed. Taking a moment to collect yourself is understandable.
108sims replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”
Taking breaks from tumblr is good for your sanity. I had to last month for the sake of my mental health I got stressed out falling behind here and dealing with job stuff. Just like for you with school, job takes priority over my blog. I’ve taken so many breaks, honestly it’s fun to enjoy other hobbies and do other things.
dandylion240 replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”
RL should always take priority. Taking breaks and doing other things is healthy and good. Don't let this anon get to you or make you feel guilty.
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”
Anon is strange - as if tumblr was the only life you've got and you have to stay here whenever you like it or not. Why read between the lines and find unexisting stuff there like you don't care about your followers? It comes without saying that a person needs breaks from the tumblr every now and then
But who knows probably the anon wanted only to provoke you to start our "favorite" drama. In this case they do need to find a life for themselves
Btw too - feeling lonely on tumblr also can be a reason for a hiatus, so anon makes no sense
So I kinda didn’t want to address this anymore because I feel like I’ve said everything in my lengthy answer to that ask but I just wanna say thank you for writing all of this. I didn’t feel bad when I got this, the anon didn’t change my opinion, I still believe everyone has the right to take a break, leave tumblr behind for a bit and not feel sorry about it. Take that me time and come back better than ever (or not if you don’t feel like, that’s fine too)! I was still worried about posting this answer though. So thank you for letting me know I’m not the only one who feels this way!
dandylion240 replied to your post “April 30, 2019: Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I...”
Congratulations and have fun with the last day! It'll be bittersweet knowing this may be the last time you'll all be together but it's exciting too because it marks a beginning of something new. So happy for you!
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “April 30, 2019: Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I...”
Congratulations and welcome to the "adult" life! Let this day be one of the brightest moments in your memory!
Now I'm feeling nostalgic, I'll go and look through my graduation album
108sims replied to your post “April 30, 2019: Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I...”
That sounds like a really fun way to spend your last day! At my school at least we had a Senior day where there were a bunch of games and activities. Good luck on your exams, and I hope you enjoy your last day and everything that is to come!
It was very fun and everyone looked so good in their costumes! One of my classmates wore this 20s-like dress and oooh boy. She was gorgeous. Just...leaving on that day was really bittersweet. Part of me was like “yas, we’re done with this place!” but the other part of me already missed it. And yeah, our teacher didn’t forget to remind us that all of us might never meet again. There are reunions, it’s a tradition, but there’s always someone who can’t come.
Okay, moving on or else I’ll start crying, and I’ve already cried a lot today. Looking at you, GoT episode 4.
alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “Regan: “You made it! Nice. I’ve heard you almost threw up on the...”
i'm laughing at the two couples in the background, both flirting during this conversation
Oh god I didn’t realize how funny that looks :D I didn’t want them to just stand there haha.
dandylion240 replied to your photo “In Character Judgement Call: Caleb Protect this soft boy. RULES: You...”
I Caleb the most from gen 4
I know this is just missing a word and I shouldn’t laugh but it comes off kinda funny. Still, thank you!
dandylion240 replied to your photoset “Felix: “You look perfect. No, no, you are perfect. Some girls are...”
Despite his ability to burp at inappropriate times Felix can say the sweetest things
No sweeter words have ever been spoken about my boy
Also no truer words have ever been spoken about my boy
108sims replied to your post “I’m waiting for my exam (still have like 2 hours) and I’m bored. I...”
Good luck!
nineyellowgirl replied to your post “I’m waiting for my exam (still have like 2 hours) and I’m bored. I...”
keeping fingers crossed :D
desira-sims replied to your post “I’m waiting for my exam (still have like 2 hours) and I’m bored. I...”
Good luck on you exam!
Thank you guys! The results should come on May 15th. Wish it was that day already. I think I did well, but I won’t be calm until I actually see it.
harmoniouspixels replied to your post “One day, I’ll have a nice tiny mods folder again. Today is not that...”
The TS4 community needs to come up with a Compressorizer like TS2 and TS3 has tbh
Yeah that would be nice. TS4 needs a lot of things in general though, to be fair.
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “Hmm...”
Hm the thing I do plan something with berries and I need a spouse for my founder which I don't want to create myself... Sooo... Yeah, I could use a sim ��
flowerhoneysims replied to your post “Hmm...”
@simmeronnie But it‘s another kind of pink ☺️
Alright guys, I have an idea. Shoot me a message and we can talk about it! I’m down for this. Here’s just a brief description of everyone I can offer (in case someone else would like a sim and would like to know what they’re signing up for), we can talk more in depth in the messages later. I have one mean pink girl who loves robots, then this one that I’ve shown (she doesn’t have too much personality yet, but she hates her other sister and loves videogames), an agender person with pink skin, white hair and white eyes (loves animals and is the total opposite of their mean twinsister - and yet they’re still best friends somehow) and one pink boy with white eyes who just aged up into a child so I have no idea what he’s going to be like yet. I just remember he got the No Sense of Humor trait.
Can I have a wish though? If I send you one of these sims, would you please share with me the sim they end up with? I would love for them to get together in my game as well.
Side note, can you already tell my bpr is going to be a bigger mess than all my other legacies combined?
lyrea replied to your photoset “Okay, clearly he didn’t ruin all the traditions. Crisis averted.”
^_^ That is an impressive cake they got.
Oh, it is! I’m not sure now, but it might be the one that came with Monte Vista?
12 notes · View notes
orchidscript · 3 years
Text
Compromise (Henry)
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Welcome back! Nothing is going to get better for the time present for Henry and I hope you folks are excited to watch this slide sideways, then out of control! So, this round we’ve got some more therapy and a little bit of set-up time with Carter. Enjoy!
Henry Master List
Tag List: @neuro-whump , @burtlederp , @moose-teeth  @deluxewhump  @whumpingupastorm  @pepper-and-peaches  @justanothermaltesegirl  @whumptywhumpdump  @whumphours  @whump-only  @thatsthewhump  @boxboysandotherwhump @lave-whump​  @pebbledriscoll​ @kixngiggles​ @keeper-of-all-the-random-things​
Warnings: bbu general warning; therapy session, trauma survivor, trauma recovery, substance use, coping mechanisms, discussion of alcohol + drinking, self-loathing, depression, anxiety, fuckity headspaces, anger, swears. There’s a lot going on in these chapters, so let me know if I’ve missed!
~*~*~
“I’m going to quit,” Henry grumbled, stuffing a piece of gum into his mouth. June had bought him a whole sleeve of the little packs to keep on him — something to dull the clawing need in him; spearmint flavored to settle his stomach.
Carter cast him a wary glance as they waited for the lecture hall to open. “Quit what?”
“Therapy.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Not what I was expecting is all,” Carter answered. There was a blandness in his tone that set Henry’s teeth on edge. The rational voice in his head reminded him that Carter didn’t mean anything by it. That voice was always dwarfed by the flaring rage in his chest. He concentrated on his gum chewing. “I just… Never mind.”
“Just say it,” Henry nudged him in the ribs.
“I don’t want to make you mad.”
“I already am and not at you.”
“And I’d like it to stay that way.”
“Seriously, Carter?”
Carter let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Whatever. I just didn’t think you’d give up so easily, again.  You’re tougher than that, but… I don’t know. I’ve never had to dry out, so I guess I can’t judge.”
“I hope you never do. Because it sucks all kinds of shit,” Henry muttered. He held out a stick of gum to Carter — a good will gesture. Carter took it and tucked it into his jacket pocket for later. He wrapped an arm around Henry’s shoulders and squeezed. “I’m glad we don’t have lab today. My hands are already shaky.”
“Want to copy my notes after?”
“Nah. It’ll give me something else to focus on.” He leaned into Carter’s side, resting his head on his shoulder. He’d done this a lot in the last three weeks — wanting the comfort contact but not knowing what else to do with it. It was like a calming cream on a burn. He didn’t  know why it helped, only that it did. “Would it really be so bad if I quit going? I mean, once I’m sober—.”
“You won’t know how to cope without going back to it,” Carter cut him. “You can dry out, sure, but you’ll repeat it all without other options.”
“I could do something else. Like… I’m still allowed to smoke.”
“Don’t even joke, Henry,” Carter sighed, sounding exhausted at best. “I know you hate it, Hen. Really, I do. And I know this is all kinds of uncomfortable, but do you really want to repeat it all in a year or two?”
Henry grumbled something that sounded like grudging agreement. No, he didn’t want to repeat all this, didn’t want to put everyone through this again. But he also didn’t want to be there to begin with. Sure, he wasn’t fine — even he could admit he was more than messed up and spiraling — but therapy couldn’t be the only way right?
The image of June, eleven days earlier, going over the other options he could pursue rolled through his head. None of those had sounded any better than sitting across from Dr. Noah Hawkins twice a week. Henry kicked himself for even thinking that way. It was difficult, but it wasn’t hard. Hell, Caleb even drove him to his appointments. Henry just had to show up and sit in the chair.
“There’s no painless way out of this, is there?” He mumbled.
Carter squeezed his shoulders again. “I don’t think so. At least, not one that will actually, you know, work. In the long run.”
Henry hummed. The lecture hall doors opened and the ensuing stream of students cut off his reply. It wasn’t going to be that good anyway, so he figured it was well enough left unsaid. He let Carter steer him inside to their usual spots, keeping a steady grip on his shoulders the whole way. Henry sunk back into his seat, staring intently at the loading powerpoint on the projector screen. Part of him was waiting for his vision to blur and the letters to twist up under the pressure of a migraine. 
His stomach flipped uncomfortably at the prospect. 
The piece of gum was already starting to lose its flavor.
“Hey,” Carter said, his fold-up desk thumping down into place. “I’ve got an idea.”
Henry rolled the gum around with his tongue, one eyebrow arched. “Oh yeah?”
“Shoot it down if you want,” Carter started. “But what if we make goals? Like, if you go to therapy until the end of the week, we get something nice for dinner. Go for a month, you get something else. Something to keep you going even when you’re pissed off and don’t want to. You know what I’m saying?”
“That’s not a terrible idea,” Henry mumbled. He thought about it and pulled out his notebook, his pen. He tapped the end on the metal spiral binding. “
He could use something to look forward to in all this. He hated therapy, hated the long drawn-out process of drying out and coming back down to normal — not to mention the self-imposed isolation to cut him off from his bad habits. He wasn’t working at the bar right now — Caleb’s rules — and had agreed to a weekend curfew. As much as he liked Rosie and Gabi, the rest of the Garcias, Henry needed something more exciting than tub and tuck-in by 9:30 on a Saturday.
Maybe that thought itself was flirting with disaster, but Henry could already feel himself latching onto it. He glanced sideways at Carter. The other boy looked earnest, genuinely wanted to help.
Henry really wanted to let him. “Okay. Sure. That might help. Every Friday, I go both sessions, we do something or get something.”
Carter smiled at him, lopsided and sweet. “Once a week. What’s this Friday?”
“Uh… a trip to that bookstore. The one with the black cat.”
“And next Friday?”
“Umm… we take off Saturday study time for a movie or something.”
“Sounds good,” Carter nodded. Henry glanced down at his hands, watching as he wrote each of the requests down in his notebook margin, the assigned dates in parentheses next to each. “We can go through the end of the school year or something. When you hit, I don’t know… a month, two months, something like that we can plan something more elaborate.”
“Don’t want to put anything down for after you graduate?” Henry asked. It could have been a jab, but he didn’t let it sound like one. He was still getting used to the idea of sitting through his days by himself once Carter had his degree and hopefully a job.
Carter hummed in agreement. “I don’t know. Feels like bad luck. Maybe you won’t even need to go that long.”
“Maybe I will. You don’t know.”
“Neither of us know, Hen. This is totally new.” Carter went quiet as he wrote out the rest of the dates. A whole four months of Fridays. Staring at it all laid out, it felt like a lot of time. A whole lot of time to Henry. “Have a little hope, would you?”
Sitting in the classroom, how many months later, Henry still felt like people were staring at him. Felt their eyes prickle over the back of his neck. There wasn’t a single student on campus who didn’t know a little bit about who he was. Anyone in the STEM departments knew who he was, what he looked like, what classes he was in; they knew he and Carter were an item, and were probably staring at him too. It was grating, uncomfortable, made him want to snatch his bag up and head for the exits every time. He was an anomaly, an attraction. He hated it.
He chewed the skin next to his thumbnail and went back to staring straight ahead. The words on the slide deck were straight and readable. His head hadn’t abandoned him just yet. His hands still shook. “I’ll try.”
~*~
Henry cleared his throat as he dropped into the armchair. “So, what are we talking about today?”
Dr. Hawkins was taking his time. Closing the door, arranging his notebook and file folders on the table next to his chair. There was a candle lit on the coffee table between them this time, minty and cold smelling. “Did you have something in mind, Henry?”
“No. But I know you’ve got your little list of stuff,” Henry shrugged. “Just want to know what I’m in for.”
“Last time we talked about your motivation,” Hawkins began, settling into his chair and crossing his legs. “I figured we’d pick up there.”
Henry inhaled. He crossed his arms and rolled his shoulders. “Fair… I don’t know what else we have to cover.”
“Well. How are you feeling?”
“Still icky. Shivery and nauseous all the time.”
“Any improvement?”
“I guess so. I’m sleeping again and I guess I feel better…” Henry let his voice trail on. Let the but I still don’t want to fucking be here go unsaid.
Hawkins seemed to pick up on it and simply nodded. “Alright then. You want me to drive this session again?”
“Please.” Henry pinched his nose. “I’m just here. Just pull me around and I’ll answer you, okay?”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Sounds good then, Henry.” Hawkins shifted in his seat, picking up his notebook and glancing over what Henry knew was his little notes. “I want to go back to your time with the governor and his wife—.”
“Girlfriend,” Henry corrects sharply. “They aren’t married.”
“Noted. You said Mariana had specific ways of talking to you, of guiding you into requesting punishments.” Hawkins clicked his pen a few times. “I’d like to get into that.”
“Why?”
“Because I would and you asked me to steer.”
“No way. Tell me why,” Henry glared at him. He’d talk about it. Hell, he would lay out the whole sordid history of Mariana Aldersky and her affection for giving him black eyes, split lips, the like. He had no problem with that. “You don’t do anything without feeling like there’s a reason or a connection or whatever.”
“I don’t?” Hawkins asked, easy as could be.
“No, you don’t,” Henry snapped. “She punished me because she wanted to, because she couldn’t beat the crap out of Caldwell because she loved him so much. There’s nothing else to it.”
Hawkins bit into his cheek and stared at a spot on the carpet for a minute. After a beat, he came back to meet Henry’s hard gaze. “In our past sessions, you’ve expressed a willingness to be punished, if not an outright expectation to be. Coupled with a few other things, I’m wondering if Mariana’s methods continue to influence you.”
“How do you mean?” Henry tilted his head. The idea made his jaw clench and his hand shake. He crosses his arms, securing his fingers in his arm pits.
“I’m asking if your lashing out and stubbornness is an attempt to corner people into hurting you or pushing them away for good,” Hawkins clarified. Calm and steady.
It made Henry even more nervous than he would admit. “Why would I do that?” His voice crackled when he spoke and he cursed under his breath.
“I’m not sure, Henry. Why would you do that?”
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chiseki · 5 years
Text
Figured I’d make this an intro post, since I’m pretty much using this alternate url as an “out” url compared to my usual vagueness.
I’m Joshua. Yes, that matches the sidebar, so it’s not really surprising here.
And that would surprise an entire two people following my main blog that know me irl because the rest were previously informed. Maybe three people, I forget if the last one is on tumblr or not.
Which is, by the way, ““““““““fun”““““““““
Yup, having like three local friend circles that had relations to each other outside of myself, and only one of them being in the know is fun.
You can basically stop reading at this point, because from here on out is just gonna be a massive time rewind to.....jeez, fuck if I know when, my childhood? I promise there will be time skips, we don’t need that mess played at normal tempo. (Also some funny stories after the giant gap in the text, if you want to scroll for that).
Most of this story is actually located in college, but the only real indicator (aside from having a general dislike of dresses) was way back when I was in all of second grade--apparently I was so damn insulted I burned all these facts into my memory--and an older kid was brought into the classroom, gave us this cool sales pitch about do we want to learn to shoot a bow, go camping, build campfires, etc
and then was like “OH YEAH THIS IS THE BOY SCOUTS IT’S BOYS ONLY”
I was so hyped lol.
Wound up being in a mediocre girl scout troop later, and my brother obviously got directed into boy scouts. At which point I got to find out that their camping trips were mostly getting rained on and finding black windows and getting taught woodworking by a dude missing a chunk of finger.
So more suffering than child me would have expected, but they still got to build fires and go REAL camping and shoot bows and rifles and shit.
Meanwhile, in girl scouts, we went to this one set of cabins every year. We never stayed in the damn cabins, because someone would find A Bug in there, or a spider, and then someone ELSE would have the same issue, and no one wanted to be in a cabin alone let alone be the only one in the cabins at all, and we always wound up sleeping in the air conditioned lodge that was visible from the damn cabins.
Except the one year where we went to a different camp, stayed in the legendary caboose, and there was a bat sleeping on the outside of the window so no one wanted to sleep there except me.
My scout group was weak.
I miss the cookies, though.
Anyway, due to not being forced into gender-targeted toys and getting to play with whatever the fuck I wanted, I also have jack shit for anything resembling an early warning sign aside from the above.
Actually, scratch that, I was not really a fan of dresses. I mean, this was fair in general, since they were usually scratchy, didn’t fit my arms/shoulders right, were designs I had no say in, and everyone would get on my case if the dress might get even a LITTLE dirty. Had some skirts I liked in middle school, but even that was a mess of having to wear tights because my genes have never resulted in anything resembling a thigh gap.
And I was like, constantly trying to play with the guys in grade school. And they’d periodically get that “NYEHHHHHHH GUYS ONLYYYYYY” shit going on. That was never not infuriating tbh.
Flash forward to high school, still basically left to my own devices. Only indicator here was that I was just tickled fucking pink whenever I heard that I either passed at cons or was at least tossed in the “maybe.......?” zone.
Flash forward to college. I honestly don’t remember what set me off on thinking about it, but started eyeballing my gender with a microscope. Unfortunately I couldn’t apply a litmus test like sexuality, so there was a lot of “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfuck” going on.
Actually, I think part of it was that on the forum I hung out on, a lot of the old regulars had assumed I was a dude until a childhood friend had dropped a pronoun several times in succession & asserted its correctness, which then led to a discussion along the lines of “whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat”.
But yeah, started testing the waters.
Also tried going to a LGBT+ club like, once. With the gal I was either dating at the time or was about to be dating, my memory is shit tbh. “HEY SO HOW ABOUT WE ALL JUST COME OUT TO EACH OTHER, A BUNCH OF STRANGERS <33333333″ still freaks me out, honestly. I get why it’s generally done, but like, no thanks. But I was horrendously obvious in ducking about the gender question and she totally called me out on it later in private lol. Also got me my first binder, but I digress.
Anyway, basically spilled on “I’m.....probably..............? a dude...........? jsyk??????” to my immediate friends, which was met with a lot of “.....YEAH ACTUALLY THAT MAKES SENSE” and a “hang on I need a dictionary........ok I get it”
I think I was the least smooth part of anything resembling a coming-out just due to like, me not wanting to have to tell people to do things for me? It’s something I find extremely awkward, like I know it’s that horribly stereotypical dating thing of “what’s wrong, bby, what do I have to do” “I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO” but.
And that’s an entire digression about how my relationship with my mother often included me saying a lot of shit I had to say convincingly, but didn’t mean at all, and probably led to me having fuckall faith in what people say, most especially when under a forced prompt. I could do an essay on that, but not here.
Which, admittedly, I’m gonna rewind here because I think it’s funny in hindsight, but it means the dictionary reaction went like “SO...........I’M.............TRANS?” “What?” [thinking this is pushback on the idea] [PANIC MODE] “UH” “Like, literally, what does that word mean, I've never heard it in my life.” “OH. WELL. Heh. Uh. That internal reaction I had was embarrassing then, oops.”
Anyway.
Then the collective action was, “well, have you picked a name what do you MEAN you haven’t picked a name, we can’t just run about calling you by your deadname after all that”
And I tossed some names out, that I’m not going to list, because they were just fucking awful. So I got interventioned and the method became throwing names at me until they stuck.
Adam? Nah I knew an Adam and I can’t unassociate with that
Noah? Violin teacher’s third kid was named Noah. Same issue with Gabriel and Caleb.
Benjamin? I fucking grew up with a Benjamin he would kill me.
you get the idea.
And those were like, actual reasonable rejections. At least half the time I was just like “I DON’T LIKE HOW IT SOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNDS.” Take, for example, Josh. I 1) knew one in high school and he was a piece of work and 2) I just, inexplicably, don’t like how the word sounds.
Which is part irony and part masochism that JoshUA stuck.
I mean, that name had pre-existing connotations for me. I had played..........a game.........in high school. And given that my options were pretty shafted to Stereotypical White Boy Names if I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, some positive(?) pre-existing connotations were going to be needed.
Incidentally, I had a v. sweet trans girl offer me her deadname, which was a cool name, but just, like, didn’t fit me in particular so. She also picked her name by RNG tournament, with the top 10 baby names for her year being the competitors. Which was neat and worked well for her, but I know I would have just re-run the fucking tourney if I didn’t like the winner lol.
But anyway, continuing on to a less flowery story. I’ll add some blank lines so it’s skippable. No need to set off every other person with gender issues here.
Decided to come out to my family. Apparently time fuzzed down my memories of being devoured by mosquitos outside while my parents were trying to decipher that their kid was holding hands with a girl in the back of the van and that girl had been planned to sleep over that night, and despite the fact that booth teens wouldn’t be jumping to sex that fast nor had the equipment to make a kid between them....it was Reason For Concern like a straight couple sharing a bed.
I mean, my mom was convinced that anything touching the nether regions was SEX and PREMARITAL SEX was EVIL. But I digress.....again.
So. I tell them. And the reaction ranged from “well ok I mean you’ve always been weird” (thanks, bro) to “uh I guess my last name’s odds of getting inherited just doubled........?” to “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME”
Yeah. That last one was word for word. Some stuff was thrown, lots of crying (”I CAN’T EVEN DO MY MAKEUP AND IT’S YOUR FAULT”)--both of which were not my doing, though I got shocked(?) into my own set of tears iirc.
I think I set a speed record for climbing back into the closet. Like, a week later, everyone was pretending it never happened. I sorta emotionally cut ties with my mom at that point--kept it civil, but Did Not Want to discuss my life or friends at all with her or in any way that would get back to her.
So obviously, no one in my family knows I go by Joshua. If they asked, I would tell them, but lo and behold, zero questions, they never brought it up again, etc. And I’ve been very careful about not letting that knowledge spread, not putting it on the internet in a way that connects back to my legal name, being primed at any point to pretend “Joshua” is a mutual friend and to not respond to that name if someone accidentally calls me by it.
Incidentally, during Yet Another Family Counseling that was at least performed at an individual level this time, my mom apparently told the counselor that she thought she handled that well. Last I checked, making the situation about yourself and doing the whole “woe is me, the mother, with a child like this” shpeal was not “well”.
And I mean the WHOLE shpeal. If you’ve ever had the misfortune to see the posts by parents of trans kids that wax soliloquy about losing their child and mourning their “death” (especially the ones that aren’t all “but I got a new kid!”) like, the ones especially cut from the same cloth that would be like “my child is autistic but ~I~ am the inspiration for waking up in the morning” like no, your kid is the inspiration for dealing with you.
And if anyone is wondering, this is basically the Midwest Stereotype for....LGBT, interracial dating, etc rejection imo. Seemingly ok with it, but NO WAIT HANG ON, NOT MY CHILD. Like, I legit had trans kids explained to me (albeit without terms for it) at a relatively young age by my mother and yet. “X exists but not in our good christian neighborhood” attitude. Ugh.
So where was I? Hmm, yes, funny Joshua stories. Ok I have like ONE story. One of my friends that was in the know finally got me to play Trails in the Sky. Now, this sucker has a chunk of text lead-in with a ~mysterious~ boy that young Estelle’s father has brought home, and the whole discussion skips his name, ending on “my name is....”. Then it time-skips to present day, finally casually dropping this dude’s name, which, obviously, is Joshua.
My friend did not tell me this.
No warning, nada. Only Estelle had really come up in conversation.
And then we collectively dragged another friend into the abyss with us, except he wasn’t in the know. We also had him streaming his playing sessions when our schedules coincided, which led to--because of a shitty accuracy stat--him yelling (as we did) “JOSHUA!” frequently in combat.
I debated on just responding “Yes?” randomly one day in the most casual closet-exit possible. Then procrastinated by deciding to just be out with it at the end of the first game since he’d also played twewy.
Some of you have probably started to eye my avatars with judgement in your hearts. That’s fair.
Anyway, we had forgotten about another character that practically had his name, so at least I had someone to share my weird feelings with.
And then, he started the second game, and I didn’t hold back on responding “yes?” every time “Joshua” was used as an interjection.
Also because of that one post about biblical names, I will respond to any use of “Jesus”.
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the-brodiac · 7 years
Text
The Red-Eyed Lied (SagAqua Human!AU) ch. 5
Warnings: ESL grammar, food, alcohol, smoking, NSFW jokes, I live in a small town with no library
Word count: 2371
<< Previous chapter || First chapter || All chapters
+++
Chapter 5: Immersion
   “The original plan was”, Veto spoke up as we head to the twins’ room that afternoon. “When Caleb’s roommate calls for his usual alcohol errand boy, we connect him to Dragon instead. He’s the principal… Oh no, don’t worry, he’s chill. It won’t get him kicked out if he’s smart but it’ll still be hilariously awkward.”
    “Wow”, I replied, not sure what to say. “You guys know how to do that?”
    “We have our ways”, Quinn told me, quickening his pace.
    “And how do you guys get all the information to this?”
    “Well, I’m an errand boy in this school as well, so I know ‘im”, Sag said with a smile. “People pay me to sneak out and buy ‘em stuff from shops around here, except I don’t buy alcohol like Caleb’s does. Everything else is from our ‘dataminer’, Oliver. He’s one of the guys in charge of the lakehouse trade and has lots of connection.”
    “The only thing stopping you from buying alcohol is your wrong fake ID and your baby face”, Quinn chimed in, snickering.
    Sag rolled his eyes. I stifled a laugh.
    We finally reached their dorm room, situated in the second floor of a different building from mine and Sag’s. I didn’t know what I was expecting. Theirs was a bit larger than any room here I’ve visit, with painted walls that actually isn’t peeling off and furnitures that looks like they didn’t come from an abandoned backyard. No offense, Sag, I love you and I love your couch.
    “You’ve even got a balcony!” I exclaimed, running towards it to check out the view. “And close route to the bathroom! And an actual working fan! Fuck you!”
    They both laughed, plopping down to the (nicer) bottom bunk bed. Sag walked over to me and looked out of the balcony as well. You can barely see the lake from here, but the main school building and one of the neighbouring girls’ dorm are visible.
    “Nice place, huh?” Sag said, as if he owns the place.
    “I’m still wondering what kind of privilege these guys have to end up here”, I retorted.
    “This room is originally for exchange students, but we never even have one, so we claimed it. Oh, and the furnitures are ours”, Quinn explained, stretching and laying down. “Aaand our parents are members of the board. Aaaaand we’re rich.”
    “Wow. My parents won’t even get me McDonalds when they’re out”, I said.
    “Anyways”, Veto got up, pulling out a wheeled whiteboard from behind their closet. “About the plans… We need to brainstorm a prank that can compare to what he did to Aquarius. Quinn?”
   Quinn didn’t move from his position. “Yeah, that. Hmm. Well, the best way to find a personalized prank is look for inspirations from the target’s routine, since it’s meant to be surprising. Is he doing anything special soon?”
   “Y’know Michelle from History class?” Sag went to the nearby couch and sat down. I joined him. “Samesh said he was invited to a Richard party hosted by her this Friday… or Saturday? Well, guess who’s gonna DJ? Caleb.”
    “Oh yeah, we knew about that.”
    “Wanna call the police on them or some shit?”
    “That’s gonna involve innocent people… Even if they’re Richards. And it’s too simple.”
    “Also it kinda broke the first Millennium rule.”
    “Doesn’t pranking in general broke the first Millennium rule?”
    All three of them turn their heads towards me. I looked around awkwardly.
    “I mean”, I began. “You’re basically interfering with someone’s daily lives. Not that I don’t like pranking and appreciate you guys doing this to avenge me or anything.”
    “The rule’s unofficial, it… doesn’t have to be black and white, and… Uh, nevermind, I have no defense”, Veto muttered, writing some points about the Richard party on the whiteboard. “It’s just fun to do.”
    Quinn yawned loudly. “Maybe the biggest prank of all is that we come to the party and have fun with the Richards. He would never expect that. We’d blow all his expectations and he’d be so embarrassed he’s wrong. I’m a fucking genius. Veto, write that down.”
    “Quinn…”
    “I’m joking”, the blue-eyed twin quickly said when he caught Sag glaring at him.
    “I’ll put that as Plan E, just because”, Veto retorted.
    “Seriously?!”
    “God, then help come up with something, Kieron!”
    Sag bit on his nails. “…We can switch out his songs to somethin’ completely different?”
    “Predictable, hard to manage in a few days, but classic and appreciated. Thanks Sagittarius”, Veto wrote it on the board as Plan D. Sag visibly rolled his eyes. I gave him a pat.
    “Do you have anything, smartypants?” Veto questioned, turning to me.
    “Yeah, can you hack stuff?” Quinn added.
    “A bit, but nothing really useful”, I replied. Besides, I do robotics all day, not practicing my hacking skills. “I tried to think of something outside the box, but it’s going to sound really… dumb.”
    “Oh, dumb ideas are good”, Sag said. “Make it so dumb he’ll never see it comin’.”
+++
    “It takes ‘bout a day for Oliver to datamine what we’ll need, so in the meantime we’re just gonna go shopping for our materials”, Sag told me after we returned to our own dorm later on that day without the twins. “C’mon, we’ll pay the lakehouse a visit.”
    The twins wanted me to have “experience”, so they keep telling me to tag along Sag. But we haven’t even been back for 5 minutes, yet he’s already pulling me out of the room again, and out of the building. We made our way towards the woods across from the lake I’ve been curious about. It was a bit of a walk, having to go around the lake, and the woods are even worse, as the ground is anything but flat and there’s always some tree root sticking out to trip anyone who pass. I’d probably get lost pretty quickly without Sag.
    “So, no teacher ever caught you guys in here?” I broke the silence.
    “Well, the lake and everything else beyond that is actually not the school’s properties, so they’re technically not responsible for whatever we do ‘ere after school hours end.”
    “What a school.”
    “Yeah, but some of the more caring guys like Tiger checks around the lake every now and then. He’s never gone deep into the woods though. Afraid to get lost, probably.”
    Sag, who noticed me struggling with keeping up, stopped and offered his hand with a smile. I smiled back and took it.
    Finally, we reached the old abandoned farmhouse they keep referring to as the lakehouse. I don’t even see a lake. Maybe it’s deeper in the woods. There were some other people there, but Sag didn’t let go of my hand. I don’t mind. This feels pretty nice. A few people were chatting close by, group of people smoking were sitting at the porch, and there’s a guy asleep on a tree.
“…Okay, it’s actually only active on weekends”, Sag told me.
    We walked towards the porch. I watched the smokers blow smoke rings and do tricks and compare them to each other’s. One of them caught me. “Do you want one or something?”
    “…Can I?”
    “Oh God”, Sag said. “Aqua, it’s better for ya’ if ya’ don’t start.”
    “We’re gonna die soon anyways, Archibald”, the girl who offered me one retorted, helping me light the cigarette in my mouth. “Just don’t try it for the second time if you’re afraid of becoming addicted. That’s when you start reconsidering it and adapting… Personal experience.”
    I inhaled. Oh, and then I was coughing. Pretty hard. I collapsed on my knees and held my throat, wheezing.
    Everyone but Sag seems to be laughing. I was still gasping for breath. Now Sag is panicking. He asked me if I need some water. I told him I need death.
    At least these guys don’t need to be worrying about me trying it the second time and becoming addicted then. I’m never doing that again. Don’t smoke kids.
     Slightly leaning against Sag for support, he helped me in. Inside the lakehouse, there was only a single guy there. He looks like the kind of guy that would punch everybody in the room. He sat on a recliner that looks like it will fall apart anytime soon, his legs propped on a dusty coffee table next to a laptop and an ashtray, while blowing out smoke rings to the ceiling. Of course.
    “If you’re looking for Oliver, he’s in his room. Jacking off, probably”, he spoke when we approached close.
    “Actually Mered, I’m wondering if there’s anyone who’s got a shit ton of sugar for caramel on your list. I’ve got stuff to buy”, Sag replied. Mered sat up straight with an eyebrow raised. Then he reached for the laptop, placed it on his lap, and began scanning the screen (from the reflection on his glasses, it seems to be an excel file). Well, at least this guy doesn’t question much about what we’re up to.
    “…Nope, you have to go grocery shopping yourself. But Frankie from your building’s got some caramel popcorn, that’s pretty close. He’s in room 14”, Mered finally said after a while.
    “Seriously, nothing? What about anything sweet?”
    “Archibald, you know these depressed teenagers only live off coffee, instant food and underage drinking. Hm, but Casey from building 2, room 9 has got bubblegum ‘to sneak in in class’. Sam from building 3, room 2’s got a month old apples to get rid of, those are sweet… if she keeps them in a fridge. Zoey from building 3, room 17 has tea, but I don’t think they’re up for sale, just trade. She’s looking for… Uh, booze. Amazing. That’s pretty early during the school year.”
    Sag sighed. “Well, whatever, going out it is. I have to pick up some pads and ice cream for Cadence anyway.”
     “And two packs of the usual for me. Get them by tomorrow”, The redhead in front of him added, motioning to his cigarette and taking out some money from his pocket. Sag took the money, but Mered’s gaze drifted towards his other hand holding mine.
     “Cute catch. But he looks too tame for you, in my opinion.”
     “We’re just friends” “Gee, thanks”, Sag and I quickly said simultaneously. Also what the hell is that supposed to mean? Too tame? I’ve been rigging vending machines my whole life. What can you do, blow smoke rings in people’s faces and not cough your lungs out?
    Mered just rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me squealing when you jinxed it.”
+++
    At school the next day, gossip seems to have spread a bit, because everyone I come across in the halls threw me pity looks. Well, at least I’m not a subject of laughter, I guess. Some sneered, but Sag said they’re just Richards. Even Cancer greeted me as if he’s going to a funeral… My funeral. He seems embarrassed in my place. I quietly told him not to worry with a pat.
    Aside from the stares, Sag and I have been avoiding Caleb nonstop. We don’t always have classes together, but everyone else helped me in other ways, such as Libra who diligently saves me a seat near him. What an angel.
    “Can you guys go deliver this to Oliver today?” Quinn said in a quiet voice during lunchtime, handing Sag a hardcover book. The cafeteria is pretty noisy, so I don’t know why he even bothered.
    “What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the book with my fork.
    “Uh, Watership Down”, Sag replied, reading the cover. “Oliver helps out in the school library all afternoon today, right when we have study hour after this. Libra also helps there sometimes.”
    Okay, but this is such a random timing. Is this how the librarian dataminer receive payment? Having people return books on time? That’s actually believable.
    “What about the party plan an’ stuff?” The purple-haired guy next to me turned back to them.
    “Oh, he sent in everything already”, Veto answered while texting, barely touching his salad from before. “Exact schedule, address of place, guest list, which people from Millennium are gonna help set-up, dresscode, even menu – down until every booze. Oliver’s insane.”
    “Holy shit. Are you sure he’s trustable?” I can’t help but wonder. Insane is right.
    “Yeah, his shitty ex was a Richard, so he hates them. Besides, he’s been working with us for a year, and the dude knows we pay… There. I told him you guys are coming. Now shoo and take that book far with you.”
    Fortunately, none of the teachers here give a damn about what we do during study hour, so when the next hour start, Sag and I slipped off from class easily. The library is located in a different building, and on the walk there I was surprised by Sag suddenly grabbing my hand.
    “Um…”
    “Ah! S-Sorry, haha… It just seems right to do now, y’know?” He quickly said, all flustered, immediately letting go. Well, we did come back to our room still holding hands yesterday.
    “No, no, it’s fine! I was just a bit surprised”, I assured, grabbing his. “Come on.”
    The library is perhaps the most depressing and non-liveliest place in this godforsaken school. There’s like one or two people not including the librarian himself, typing away something at the computer on the checkout desk. This is Oliver, I suppose. Sag waste no time chatting and handed him Watership Down without a word.
    “I’ve been expecting you two. Thank you for returning your book on time.”
    Oliver looked up with a subtle smile that makes me feel like being in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, and he’s enjoying my psychological torment. He flipped through the book quickly and slipped a white envelope from inside it into his pocket very swiftly. Then he stamped the book and stuff, before slipping it into the to-be-put-back tray.
    “This is a bit ridiculous. Can’t you guys just use PayPal or something?” I whispered.
    “Immersion, Tinia”, Oliver scoffed. “Immersion. Look, whatever it is you’re doing in that party, make sure you do a good job of it. That wine balloon prank is just distasteful.”
    “Will do, Sir”, Sag smirked and saluted, pulling me back to class.
 +++
((Hey, sorry it’s been a while! I’m living as a NEET for the time being, so I might as well try to finish this. Oliver and Mered were supposed to be Scorpibra and Scorpittarius cusps.))
((…BTW sorry for the awkward pacing in this chapter. I haven’t written anything for months rip))
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inside-aut-blog · 5 years
Text
Autistic Beau (Critical Role)
right out the gate the most obvious thing is that fjord explicitly coaches her on social skills. like, several times. several at her own request
the How To Give Compliments lesson in particular stands out, bc she’s like “wait. i sounded rude?? but i was being genuine!”, & she asks for his help practicing doing compliments right (& proceeds to do…badly); perfect example of missing social cues & struggling w/tone + facial expressions
literally the…entire aftermath of the bowl argument tbh:
explicitly asks fjord for help w/the apology bc she isn’t sure how to do it
when fjord goes “you, not good at apologizing??” she has to check if he’s joking; “you’re being facetious, aren’t you?
fjord: a great place to start w/apologies is to mention the stuff you just said beau: that i’m not good at apologies?
(a completely logical but also also very literalresponse)
fjord goes, “it takes a big person to apologize for something. little people are the ones that make mistakes and just let them go,” & beau’s all, “oh, like nott? a little person”; behold, another literal response
beau says “oh okay” when fjord tells her she shouldn’t smile while apologizing; seems genuinely surprised + grateful for the advice
fjord: there’s a thing called sarcasm that you ride a line with sometimes beau: okay, that’s good to know
(canonically struggles w/unintentional sarcasm, heyo)
an example of this is when she’s telling the group about what happened when she first met dairon, & they don’t really believe her bc she doesn’t sound entirely serious, even though she rly is
fjord also has to kinda talk her through that first hug w/caleb? she doesn’t know how to do it; unfamiliar & uncomfortable w/comforting folks
oh! fjord jester & nott all coach her through her awkward apology to toya
she’s generally low-empathy. like, she has to be told to apologize to toya, she struggles to understand caleb’s pov whenever they argue, she thinks jester’s genuinely happy & unbothered after the iron shepards stuff, she’s not all broken up by the dragon debacle, she affectionpunches the injured guy in felderwin, etc. etc.
on that note–she outright says that punches & the like are how she shows affection, & uhhh showing affection in unusual ways? that’s autistic.
relatedly. she seems most comfortable doing more traditional affection quietly? like, silently handing jester a tissue, waiting til jester’s asleep to tuck her in, wordlessly putting a hand on caleb’s shoulder, etc. (which isn’t necessarily autistic in itself, but is a mood for this autistic, so on the list it goes)
also like, ppl remark over & over again abt her poor social skills, particularly nott (“you think she was dropped on her head or something? she’s just very sort of…you know…”, “beau is terrible at relationships and social interactions,” [paraphrased] “you shouldn’t talk to yussa you’re abrasive and bad at this sort of thing”) and fjord (“sometimes when you compliment people it sounds like a fuckin insult,” “there’s a thing called sarcasm you ride a line with sometimes,” “[insert various bits of socialing advice here]”)
is the very first person to remark that holding + petting frumpkin, Designated Emotional Support Stim Cat, is therapeutic
on that note, again–beau has that weird characteristically autistic thing of mixing up informal & hyperformal speech? she speaks aggressively casually most of the time, but will still drop in shit like “facetious” instead of “joking,” & “therapeutic” instead of “calming,” & etc.
when she tells the truth, she’s almost invariably blunt, eg “i’m kinda concerned for your well-being–it’s fine, i’m not that concerned,” “i don’t know why i told you [i slept with dairon],” [insert literally any argument here], etc.
uhhhhhh sth abt her reaction to caduceus’s “tell the truth” thing–like, it doesn’t seem to’ve fully occurred to her before then that she could be selectively honest, or just bend the truth rather than outright lying? which strikes me as potentially autismrelated in the sense of. that’s a shade of gray, & black n white thinking is autism thing
anyway.
pocket bacon. a) doesn’t seem to realize it’s weird, & b) samefood…….
voice edges on monotone at times
just the fact she’s still wearing the cobalt vestiges early in the campaign, when she’s left the monks & hasn’t joined back up yet–sticking w/what’s familiar when it’s not necessary or even rly practical? autisti c
undercut + topknot? easy-to-take-care-of hairstyle, tie it n go
her eagerness to Get Into Sneaky Shit & quiet disappointment when she’s left out of said sneaky shit “bc it’s her whole thing” makes me think that like. that sort of espionage junk was maybe an old special interest of hers, in addition to obviously being Her Trade
big emotions that she struggles to regulate, esp. anger/frustration; has openly admitted having anger issues
relatedly she’s canonically gotten so frustrated & upset that she’s just started crying (granted it was at a broadly overwhelming moment–the succubus fight–but none of the others cried so like,)
lowkey has that “connects easier to animals than people” thing going on? is noticeably delighted every time she’s given frumpkin to hold; the very first time she holds him she’s all “he likes me :D!” –is also noticeably upset when the prof thaddeus saga goes down
lifelong struggle to make friends; never rly had them before the m9
asks a dude why he’s afraid of fire, ie why he has dissociative & nonverbal episodes whenever he burns someone to death. is then shocked that the reason is So Heavy
mmmm perseverates; eg in battles she’ll often Keep Trying To Stun over & over despite lack of success, in arguments she’ll keep hammering the same point, in General once she decides she wants to know a thing she digs & digs until she finds it out (file that under adhd as well)
sometimes overshares w/strangers w/out realizing she’s overshared; eg “yeah my parents named me beau because they always wanted a son,” said to bo like 30 seconds after meeting him
is shouty when they first meet keg & then apologizes for it & says “i’m trying to work on the manners thing”
the “long may he rein” bit at molly’s grave was echolalia
ok SO we all know traci is beau’s straightsona yes? but i hereby propose……….she is Also beau’s ntsona (sociable, bubbly, polite, uses more variation wrt tone of voice,,,)
when she touches the little window thing in halas’s study & pulls jester along with her, she’s like “ahhh! my actions have consequences that affect other people!!!” & that. is what we here in this house call an Autistic Mood (specifically a low-empathy autistic mood)
“is it wrong for me to feel okay when everyone else feels really bad” is Also an autistic mood (of the same variety)
she’s a great negotiator in terms of like. tactical shit? but when it comes to fuckin–emotional mediation stuff, she rly struggles. see: when she tries to mediate between nott & caleb in the apothecary basement (trips over her words & trails off, doesn’t seem to know what else to do/say)
canonically hates the color yellow. consider: is bc sensory bad
makes name puns. i’ve not met an autistic yet who didn’t love puns
seems surprised that no one else caught that her name is beau & she fights w/a bo staff–the redundancy is obvious to her, so surely it must be to everyone else aswell?? (what do u mEAN no????)
OH. when beau says to jester “i mean…you could watch if u wanted” re: her hypothetically kissing dairon & then is like “…would that make you uncomfortable? –nevermind” that’s. autism; foot in mouth not realizing how other ppl will feel
misses…..unstated implications. like down in the sewer w/the drow, they decide to just leave the dude & the beacon behind & beau’s like “we’re letting him leave without it?” & the others are like. we’re leaving both we don’t know if he’ll take it [wonk] not our problem, & she’s again like “but he won’t take it?” until fjord translates & goes “yes, he’s taking it”
she’s like “caleb u can just get a new fuckign jacket, god” but does she get herself a new one?? no. she jus adds a new lining to the monk robes she’s already got & calls it good, like a goddamn Dweeb
also when her arm wraps got burned off she immediately went to replace them; i’m betting she just Feels Weird w/out them bc Is Different, + that they provide some nice pressure times
also after the yussa encounter she says “ i could barely speak i could barely get words out,” which like. semiverbal……….
in ep 57 she said the “sensory overload” words, so mark that down for a phrase she is readily familiar with
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Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | Vanderwood Backstory | Ch. 14 The Perfect Woman
***OH MY GOODNESSS! It's the end of my vanderbby's backstory, but hold onto your seats because, guess what? My OTP VanderwoodxOC Cerise will be rolling out with an rp conversion soon!!!!
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He was finding it so hard to focus. His tie was annoying enough, but the suit was hot and uncomfortable. Why did he have to wear a suit? Oh, right, for the mission he was supposed to be paying attention to. Tonight, he would be framing someone for the murder of a seedy public official. They had dealings in sex trafficking, each of them. There was a small syringe of the chemical that the other man, the one being framed, was developing in his labs. So far, as far as anyone else knew, that lab was the only one to have this particular lethal chemical, and it was meant to be used for disposing of chemical waste, but Vanderwood was about to change that.
Vanderwood pulled on the collar of his suit once more. It felt like he was going to die. He much preferred his shirts and jacket. At least they were comfortable and easier to move around in. Although sometimes the jacket did get a little in the way just because he preferred to wear it over his shoulders rather than on, so that people could see the leopard print. Say what you would about him, but he happened to think it looked rather good. It was certainly the most expensive thing he'd ever owned besides his imported mattress and his agency issued taser. He felt oddly…comforted by the print. Seven had asked him once why he wore it, but that was all he could come up with. Trying to think about it made him upset.
The target was walking past now. A tall, slick-haired man with a beautiful woman on his arm. Vanderwood found her far more interesting, probably because he was already irritated. Honestly, Vanderwood would be surprised if the woman wasn't an escort. Her dress was body hugging, silver like her nail polish and jewelry. The only thing that wasn't silver was her hair which was a light purple, although it did have a hint of gray tone to it. Maybe she dyed it? No, it looked natural.
She was unique, but she had assets, and that was all Vanderwood ever cared about with women really, besides making sure that they didn't touch him. Watching her with the target, she was definitely an escort. No one else would notice the way she was touching him just this way, making sure to keep her attention focused solely on her client. Yeah, escort. His eyebrow twitched as he once more discreetly tugged at his collar. Damn he wanted to hit that, she looked like a good fuck…, just to get some relaxation out of tonight.
***
He'd been watching them all night, waiting for his opening, and now, here it was. Vanderwood followed the target and his escort from the ballroom of the hotel and up the elevator, taking the adjacent one. It wouldn't be long now. Quietly, he stood at the door, listening for when the man would finish, and he snorted when it only lasted five minutes. At least she was getting paid, Jesus. He was probably going to have to pay her off handsomely. If he knew escorts, he knew they just needed money, at least the good ones.
Vanderwood carefully inserted the hotel key that Seven had created, pressing the button on his phone that alerted Seven to the fact that he was commencing with the hit. The redhead would keep his location and send in a call for reinforcement if Vanderwood was gone longer than fifteen minutes, but the brunet really wasn't worried.
He made his way in quick, taking the syringe and decapping it to hear the sound of the escort gasping as she dropped the dress she'd been putting back on, re-exposing herself, probably a self-defense mechanism meant to stun the attacker, but he wasn't paying attention to her at the moment. The man was shouting something along the lines of 'What are you doing here?' when Vanderwood shoved the needle into the man's thigh. The chemical apparently reacted quickly as his veins started to protrude and turn purple, his hands scratching at his throat as he fell.
Now he allowed himself to pay attention to the escort, turning to face the woman who had so far remained silent since her first gasp. She was eyeing him, false modesty had her covering her body. He snorted softly looking her over. God, it would be so nice to get out of this suit and into her, but he couldn't do that while on a mission. Based on the way she now lifted her chin, giving him a calm and collected look, she knew that he wasn’t being fooled. Her tone was soft and gentle, like the brush of soft fabric along your skin, a little too pure for his taste, but so be it. "I won't talk. I'm not stupid. You don't even have to pay me. I'd rather be alive."  
She really was smart. He straightened out his shoulders as she dropped her arms away and went to put on her dress again. "Thought you were in this for the money." It wasn't really a question, but she answered anyway. "I am. Paying for law school and putting some money in savings, but I don't want to be killed for greed. I easily make enough money as it is." He noted that even though her voice was soft, it wasn’t not childish, more like sweet seduction. Vanderwood was actually smirking a little. So far, she hadn't tried to touch him, beg for her life, nor threaten to blackmail him which was what he was used to.
This one was the genuine real deal detached escort. "How much for an hour?" It rolled off his tongue like normal conversation. There was a dead body in front of him and a now elegantly dressed escort to his right, but it was such an easy topic still. His life would never be normal, clearly; he'd accepted that a long time ago.
"$2,000 for one hour. I won't touch you anywhere you don't ask me to, and I'm silent unless otherwise requested. Do you want to right now?" Her eyes slipped to the man on the ground. "In another room?" She was so calm, probably some other client had met a similar fate before, that or she was really well trained by her pimp. Most likely the first option, seeing as she wasn't even shaking. As tempting as her offer was, he couldn't now, even though he wanted to. "Give me your number."
Crystal was her name. She was so simple, so perfectly suited for his needs, and she didn't want anything from him other than her money and to leave at the end of the night. Sometimes he would ask her about how school was going, tell her to be wary of her pimps and johns, particularly if clients getting killed was a normal thing for her. Usually she would give him a small smile and tell him that she knew what she was doing.
Only once, the week he had her there every day, did she ask him why he needed an escort when he was such a great catch. He actually told her the truth. "I'm a sex addict and a secret agent. I can't ever find love or be in a relationship." Vanderwood said it casually as he pulled his shirt back on. It was the anniversary of his brother's death, that's why that week was so hard, although usually he'd be seeing a different woman every night. Her soft tones grated a little on his ears for the first time when she answered. "There's someone out there for you. She'll heal you. You just haven't found her yet." Vanderwood had snorted at her before she left.
He still called her the next day. She was the most perfect woman he would ever have in his life. In fact, she would be the only woman he would ever have actually in his life. Just one to two hours at a time, most often once a week or whenever things got to be too much. That was just the woman he needed.
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final assessment
Who: Fauna Flanagan & Eric Anderson @ericxanders Where: Cafeteria What: Fauna and Eric sit down to discuss their final assessment  Content/Trigger Warnings: Some reference to negative sexual experiences and kidnap
Fauna was a little bit nervous to open up to someone that she didn’t really know, sharing things that were serious or personal wasn’t really her style. Usually she opted for surface chatter without any real depth, but she wanted to do well on the assignment so she straightened her hair and promised to just suck this whole thing up. Coffee made everything better, so the little brunette took a long sip of her iced drink and waited for Eric to arrive.
Eric spotted the Irish submissive easily. They’d opted for an early morning coffee — something casual, in neutral territory that would hopefully put them both at ease when it came to answering questions. He jogged to close the distance between them, and sat down on the opposite side of the table. He slid a Tupperware container into the centre. ‘Caleb made cookies. I figured every conversation is better with cookies.’ He grinned, before offering his hand to her. ‘Eric Anderson. It’s a pleasure to actually meet you.’
Fauna gave Eric a smile when he arrived, face perking up more genuinely when he put the Tupperware onto the table. “Now I’ve never met Caleb but I’ve already decided that he and I share at least four brain cells.” Fauna said happily offering her hand back. “Fauna Flanagan, wonderful to meet you too Sir.”
‘I might be bias but I’m inclined to believe everyone would get along with Caleb. He’s wonderful.’ Despite everything, he still felt that very strongly. Her accent was distinct but it wasn’t impossible to understand. ‘How are you? How’re you feeling about this?’ He asked. ‘It’s a little daunting isn’t it? To bare your secrets to someone you don’t know?’
“I believe you, there’s a couple of lads I’ve yet to meet around this place that I think I’m probably missing out on. I’ll add Caleb to my list to seek out.” Fauna chattered, unable to stop herself from opening the container and taking a cookie. “I mean.. it’s not really my style. I’m best known for talking about basically anything other than personal shite. But I’m willing to give it a try.. and I’m just glad it’s not one of those assignments that would in some way require me to take my clothes off, because I’ve had enough of doing that with strangers for a lifetime.” She joked, already nervous. “What about you Sir? How are you feeling?”
He considered the question for a moment, thoughtful as always in his answers. ‘Honestly, I’m not feeling too bad about the whole thing.’ While he didn’t like he let people in and know the vulnerable parts of himself, the sort of conversation this test required was one he was familiar with. It was more about getting to know him as a Dominant, and that was something he’d been doing for years. ‘Why don’t I start? Maybe learning about me will make you feel more at ease to talk about yourself.’
Fauna munched on the cookie as she listened to him, it was nice to know that he was confident it made her feel like at least he would drive the conversation and also hopefully keep her from wandering off on the fifteen tangents she was already thinking of. “Sure so um.. how’d you end up here at school? You’ve been here quite a while right?”
‘Honestly, it’s kind of a wild story. Obviously, we all have to come here at some point — but I was pretty happy doing my thing in New York and I probably would have been for a few more years but Blaine, my brother — there was a kidnapping thing. Is it kidnapping when the person is an adult? Anyway, that sped up my timeline a little.’ He explained, already feeling ludicrous for starting with such a story. ‘But yeah, that was in January last year so I’ve been here a while.’ He grinned. ‘What brought you here?’
Fauna almost choked on the cookie in her mouth when he said that Blaine had been kidnapped, her eyes studying his face to check that he was serious. “Um that’s.. I’m so sorry to hear that Sir. I’m glad that Blaine is ok now?” She said nervously deciding that she might have to be honest with him about her own arrival if he’d shared something like that. “Well.. I was at medical school in Dublin but I ended up in a dynamic that was less than healthy for me. It got a bit intense so I left uni and I already had this reputation back home that I couldn’t really get away from.. so I asked my Dad if I could start over here.”15 August 2020
How did he respond to that? Especially when he and Blaine didn't really talk that much at all, nevermind about things as deep as that. 'It sounds like both of us were brought here but circumstances slightly beyond our control.' he guessed, reluctant to pry too deeply. It didn't seem like something she was comfortable talking about.  'How have you settled in here? In terms of your mark, and classes?' he prompted. 'I think I was pretty well prepared to come here. We were brought up very aware of how things worked in society, and while we didn't receive specific training like the Lynns, my Mama always thought I'd end up with the Dominant mark.'
“Sounds like it.” The little brunette agreed. “I always knew I’d be submissive, so it didn’t really take much settling in.. I’ve been the submissive party in dynamics before.” She admitted, wrapping her hair around her finger. “My Dad is a real system nut.. like he loves that shit. Classes are fine, I’d rather be back at med school but I guess there are worse things I could do than learn how to have better sex.” Fauna admitted with a little shrug.  “You’re in a claim? What’s that like.”
He laughed at her assessment of what they learned here -- and he realised, possibly for the first time, that when you broke it down to a simple form, that's what they were doing. 'I can't imagine having to drop your education midway through to come here.' he nodded in commiseration. 'I do -- Caleb. Provider of the cookies.' he smiled. 'Honestly, it never stops requiring work. It's wonderful. Having that deep connection with someone, that trust -- and honestly having it recognised by other people, is nice. I'm sure you've heard about some of the drama surrounding us at the moment.' This was uncomfortable to talk about. Everyone he'd spoken to thus far had heard about what happened.
Fauna took a long drink of her coffee. “Honestly I just wish I’d gone at least a little through residency before I got my mark, it’s going to be harder now. People have expectations of what kind of life I should have now, who I should be with when I’m only really comfortable with one person.” She admitted, pulling her knees up to her chin. “I’ve heard a thing or two, I know Morgan went a bit bananas on him or something.. It must have been a bit shit to have your personal business aired in front of luke warm macaroni.”
'I know that your mark will make a difference. Caleb has aspirations of working for NASA -- and I know that they'll be hard pressed to find someone as capable, someone who'd work as hard but the fact that he's a submissive will make it that much more difficult for him.' he mused. 'I'm not sure I think that's a fair part of the system. Why are you only comfortable with one person? Have you tried to scene with other people?' he asked curiously. He knew all too well how easy it was to become most comfortable with one person and to focus your attention on them. 'Bananas is one work for it.' he half-laughed. 'It wasn't my favourite thing to have happened.'
“It’s a fucked up world, but there’s no point feeling sorry for myself. I think you can only try and do the best you can with your lot in life.” Fauna laughed a laugh that was more hollow than she would have liked at his next question. “That’s the funny thing about being here, everyone seems thinks that more is better. More scenes, more partners. Where I’m from more wasn’t good, and that’s not me turning my nose up at being sexually free.. I’m all for it, be with whoever, do whatever. But do it because you want to not because you think you have to. If you google me right now a number of explicit videos will come up of me trying sceneing or fucking. I wasn’t happy though, but I am happy now that I’m with Sawyer. Sex used to be this thing that I had to do, even when I first got here I had sex with people because I thought that it would make people like me. Now when I have sex it like.. means something.. sounds totally cheesy I know. But sceneing with Sawyer it doesn’t make me feel dirty, and I think that’s important.” Fauna responded.
‘I completely agree with you. I think when it comes to scene partners, more isn’t always better but I do think there are things you can learn about your mark, and how it fits you by exploring beyond one person. Scenes don’t have to be sexual.’ He explained. ‘I’ve done a few scenes with Sky Evans, none of which have involved nudity or sex or kink at all really. But I felt like I learned a lot from it. That’s the point I’m trying to make. Does that make sense?’ He asked.
Fauna nodded. “ I totally get your point and I’d be open to non sexual scenes with others especially because I’ll need them for points. Like if scene week came around again, I’d probably pick up a couple of non sexual things with Sawyers permission. And Sawyers not the only person I’ve scened with since I got here... I swear I’m not totally like starstruck... But I do just like believe in monogamy.” She shrugged being totally honest because it felt somewhat good. “So I guess I’d better ask what kind of scenes you like eh?”27 August 2020
‘I hope you understand I’m not trying to press you into behaving a certain way. It’s just — in my experience, people have a habit of forgetting that scenes don’t have to be sexual. And I understand why — we’re all young and sex is at the forefront of a lot of people’s minds.’ He laughed. ‘I like a lot of things.’ He continued. ‘My personal favourite is impact or pain play. Previously I explored a lot of public play and humiliation but those aren’t things Caleb enjoys as much so while I like them, they’re not something I’ve engaged with much recently.’ He explained. ‘You might class me as a walking cliche of a Dominant because I love orgasm control and denial. And short term TPE. I don’t think that’s something I could do long term but for short periods, it’s something I love. There’s nothing that compares to the feeling of having someone trust you enough to give all their decisions over to you.’ He concluded with a wistful smile. ‘What about you? I think I guessed that your ideal scene would be a role play one. Is that something you enjoy?’
“I didn’t get that vibe....I’m just a little cautious I guess. Because I’ve had a weird amount of people be opposed to my choices... “ She shrugged finishing her cookie. “I had you down as a Rigger, and I said your favourite scene would be impact based... so I wasn’t like madly off the mark I hope.” She mused, unable to not laugh when he brought up denial. “I mean I’m not going to pretend that I’ve not been working on a PowerPoint that explores the idea that all Dominants are secretly chaotic evil because no matter how nice ya’ll are.. you’re all into denial deep down.” She teased. “Are you serious? You guessed that? That’s so funny, literally my favourite kink in the whole world is roleplay. Me and Sawyer have like a whole rotation of characters. He has this thing for me dressed as Regina George from Mean Girls.. and I just like want him to dress up as a teacher read pride and prejudice to me and tell me how smart I am.” She laughed. “Though kink wise I’m pretty open I think, I like being choked, always up for a bit of TPE in the short term as well because I talk way too much for full time TPE, impact and I love overstimulation. Sawyer calls me Kitten and I wear the ears for him, put actual pet play is a no go.”30 August 2020
‘I’d probably say I’m more of a sadist, or maybe a caretaker.’ He assessed. ‘I’m definitely not a Daddy Dom so i don’t mean caretaker in that sense but the most important thing to me is taking care of Caleb.’ He explained. ‘I had you down as a brat.’ He admitted. He laughed as she went on to describe Sawyer’s love of Regina George. ‘I feel like I need to make a comment about him looking good with his hair pushed back.’ He teased.
Faunas face fell when he said he had her down as a brat, in Collins eyes that was the worst thing that she could be perceived as. “Oh... well.. I would really have hoped I didn’t come off that way. I um... i don’t know how I would consider myself. I guess you could put Kitten? I don’t know.. but please don’t put brat, I try really hard to be a good obedient submissive.” The brunette said nervously. “You should... he’ll probably get all het up.”
He watched her face fall and immediately felt guilty. With everything going on, he needed a win and Fauna had been so sweet — the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel bad. ‘Oh, a brat isn’t a bad thing. Not really.’ He assured her. ‘Or at least, that’s not how I meant it. Most brats I’ve met are good at playing the role. It’s not their whole personality and it doesn’t mean they’re a bad submissive. I didn’t really know much about you so I figured that sort of went along with role play.’ He clarified. ‘But if that’s not how you see yourself, I won’t put it in my final. I really don’t think you’re disobedient.’ He promised gently.
Fauna tried to fix her face, she knew that not everyone had the same idea about different words and she was sure that he hadn’t meant any harm. “I’m sure it isn’t... but it’s not how I would want to be seen you know? It’s okay.. I know you didn’t know anything about me, I’m just hoping you didn’t get a bratty vibe from the way I talk to Dominants.” She shrugged. “Thank you very much, it’s just not the way I’d like to be presented.” The brunette explained.31 August 2020
‘It wasn’t about how you talk to Dominants.’ He reassured her. ‘Honestly, you’ve been great to do this with. You’re sweet and obviously patient given you were willing to wait until I got my shit in order before we talked.’ He added with a slightly sheepish grin. He glanced down at his notes. They’d covered all the questions, and more than — he definitely felt like he knew Fauna much better than he had and it was interesting to see how his assumptions had played. ‘I was thinking — if you’re happy everything’s been covered, we could head into town and grab some breakfast together?’ He offered.
Fauna smiled, glad that it didn’t have anything to do with her conduct when dealing with Dominants online she’d hate if she had a bad reputation. “Thank you ever so much Sir, it’s been a pleasure doing this with you too. It was no trouble at all waiting for you.” The brunette promised and then smiled more widely. “Yup I think I have everything that I need, I’d love to go and get breakfast!” She responded family.
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