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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation.

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right.

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #laisse tomber les filles #the devil all the time #college au #au

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

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Seasons of Med: Season 4 and Seasons of PD: Season 6: Of Loss and Letters (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 4x02.

Y/N's age: 17

Jay's age: 31

Will's age: 33

You sat in your English 11 class and wrote and wrote an essay for your test. Your hand was starting to cramp. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone's phone light up from the phone caddy.

Yes, that's right. Your high school now had a phone caddy where students had to put their phones every class. Each student was assigned a number and then that's where they put their phone during that hour. Some teachers didn't care and let you keep it on you, but some did.

Your phone lit up again. You so desperately wanted to look at your watch that was connected to your phone, but you knew that doing so would look like you were cheating, so you decided against it. And, you turned your attention back to your test.

It lit up again and this time your teacher had had enough and stood up to grab your phone.

"Sorry to interrupt your tests," she started, "but how many times do I have to tell you guys to put your phones away with the screen facing the whiteboard. That way it's not dis--" She sucked in a breath as a text came across your screen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one word: hospital. And, this caused her to read the text. "Y/N, please come with me."

You stood up, utterly confused, and then left the room.

"Firstly, let me say I didn't try to read your texts. I just saw it out of the corner of my eye and...it's important."

You believed this teacher. She was young, pretty fresh out of college, and one time when you came in for a review session, she made all of you guys brownies to snack on while you worked.

She handed you your phone. It was a text from Jay.

Dad's in the hospital.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was it something with his heart? Had he started drinking again?

"Can I--"

"You can go, Y/N. I'll call the office and have someone bring your books down there after class so you can pick them up there when you come to school later. Drive safe."

"Thank you."

You practically sprinted down the hallway and to your locker as another text came in from Jay.

If you don't answer in the next ten minutes, I'm calling school to get you out.

You finished shoving stuff into your backpack and then started on your way to the office. You went to sign out when one of the secretaries stopped you.

"I've got it, hun. You just take care of yourself." Your teacher must've called down.

"Thank you," you choked out and then left the building, dialing Jay's number as you walked.

"Jay!" you exclaimed when he picked up on the first ring. "What happened to Dad? I was taking a test and then my phone started blowing up. Is he okay?"

"Y/N, there was a fire at his apartment. He's in the ED at Med. Will will fill you in more when you get here." You could tell by the tone of his voice that it wasn't good.

"Jay, you can't just tell me that! There's gotta be more!"

"Y/N, you're about to drive. You'll be at Med in twenty minutes. I don't need you to get in a car accident. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"Please." You got in your car and then turned your phone on speaker and started your car. "Can you tell me stories on my way there?" you asked Jay. "I need something else to focus on."

"Focus on the road."

"I mean listen to. I need something else to listen to."

"What kind of stories?" he asked.

"Can you tell me how Mom and Dad met?"

"You know how they met: it was at a White Sox game. Dad saw Mom stand up to buy some popcorn and said he fell in love with her at first sight. He must not have been a pain in the ass then. And, his favorite pastime probably wasn't yelling at people like it is now. Probably smiled more, too."

"Technically, he doesn't yell at me," you said. "Except when he was drunk before you started taking care of me and he finished the twelve steps."

"Oh, right. I forgot. I'm his favorite person to yell at," Jay said sarcastically. "He wasn't always an ass, though. He was actually excited to have a daughter at first. And then, his asshole buddies in construction changed his mind and made him think that women weren't his equals."

"Dicks," you muttered. "What did you and Will do when you found out that Mom was going to have me? Were you mad you weren't going to be the youngest anymore?"

"Nah, I was happy I'd have someone to pick on like Will picked on me."

"Hey!"

"Obviously I didn't follow through with that line of reasoning," he laughed. "Mom was telling us how we'd have to play tea parties with you and all that girly stuff. Me and Will obviously weren't too thrilled about that."

"Well, you're lucky I'm not a girly-girl then and didn't really play tea parties."

"That's because I taught you how to kick a soccer ball the minute you could walk. Shocked you didn't play that in middle school and now in high school," he added.

"I'm not competitive enough for that."

"Oh, believe me, we know. That's why you didn't play goalie: because one game you were goalie, you just sat down in the goal and started playing with the grass."

"Goalie was boring. And, you don't get a break; you don't get to sub-in. My favorite part of kiddie soccer was the snacks and juice boxes at the end."

"Don't forget those few times you scored goals during the games," Jay pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess that part was kinda fun."

"See? You had fun."

"Not really. But, I'm pulling into Med now. I'll gonna park and then I'll be in the ED."

"Okay, make sure you remember where you parked."

"Don't worry, I will."

You parked and then made your way into the ED waiting room.

"Miss, I'm going to need you to take a seat and wait to be seen," a nurse you didn't recognize said.

"Oh, no," you started. "I'm not hurt. It's my dad. He was in the fire and my brother called." You looked down at your feet, finally realizing the gravity of the situation. "My brother called and said he's in the ED. Um, one of my brothers is Dr. Will Halstead."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Go right on in." She gave you a sympathetic look.

"Thank you."

You hustled into the ED and looked for Maggie or one of your brothers. You spotted Maggie first.

"Maggie where's--"

"Your dad's in Treatment One." She pointed you in the direction of the room and you made your way over there.

You entered the room at the same time as Dr. Rhodes. "You guys wanna fill her in?"

"What's going on?" you asked, worry evident in your voice.

Your dad started coughing and spit some bile into a bin, causing you to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"Dad tried to play hero," Jay started to explain, "He forgot he was in his 60s with a bum ticker."

"Yeah, well, this is your fault to begin with," Pat Halstead said.

"Me?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, you stuck me in that fire trap."

"Please, can you two just not fight for once?" you complained.

"Pop, stop talking," Will urged.

Dr. Rhodes started doing an EKG and then ordered some tests, finally shutting your dad up...and saving you from another argument between Jay and your dad. Then, after he was done, he got called out to consult for Dr. Choi.

"I don't need all this," your dad complained once Dr. Rhodes had left the room.

"Calm down," Jay told him rudely. "You're getting yourself all worked up."

"What do you know? You're no doctor."

"Dad," you said.

"You had no right to sell my house!"

"You wanna talk about this again?" Jay practically yelled. "It was a wreck. You couldn't take care of the place."

"You just wanted my money!"

"Hey!" Will yelled, but it didn't stop the two...nothing ever did.

"You don't have any money you thankless old prick!" Jay yelled and then started to walk out.

"Jay!" Will yelled as you started to follow him out, hoping to calm him down. "Y/N, stay here," Will told you.

"Why?"

"I know you're gonna try to calm him down, but he needs to cool off by himself right now."

You huffed. "Fine." You turned back to your dad. "I don't think he really meant it. He was mad. Both of you say things you don't mean when you're angry. You two are a lot alike that way. Like when you said he wasn't a son of yours."

"Yeah, you should apologize for that one," Will agreed.

"Not until he apologizes for what he just said to me. Only then will I--"

Alarms started sounding and lights starting flashing. Will hit a button on the wall and two nurses rushed in.

"Will, what's happening?" you screamed. "What's happening to Dad?"

Will lowered the bed and then put his fingers to your dad's neck. "No pulse. Bag him."

"Wait, he's your dad," a nurse, who you recognized as Monique, said. "Shouldn't another doctor run the code?"

"You got one handy?" Will asked as he started chest compressions.

"Will, what's happening?" Jay asked as he re-entered the room.

"Jay, I need you to take Y/N out of here. Now."

"No, I wanna stay. What's going on?"

"Jay, now," Will stated again.

Jay placed on hand on your back. "Y/N, c'mon."

The alarms were still sounding, the lights still flashing.

"No!" you yelled.

"Y/N, I need room in here," Will told you. "The best thing you can do for Dad is to leave this room."

"No! I wanna stay!" you yelled again.

Jay looked at Will and he nodded. Then, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground by Jay.

"Put me down! Put me down!" You started kicking and swinging your arms, but he didn't budge. "Let me go back in there!"

Once safely out of the room--and having drawn the attention of most people in the ED--did Jay finally put you down. You tried to run back towards the treatment room, but Jay scooped you back up.

"Nope. We're going outside," Jay told you.

"Fine. But, once we're out there, I'm not walking with you."

You crossed your arms in frustration. After that little stunt he pulled back there, there was nothing he could say that made you want to be around him.

"That's fine. Just keep your phone on you."

***

As you kept walking down the sidewalk to the right--Jay had went left as soon as you walked outside because you didn't want to be around him--you spotted none other than Kelly Severide sitting on a bench, looking like he was currently throwing himself a pity party.

"Hey," you said as you walked up to him.

"Y/N? what are you doing out here?" he asked as he looked up.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, have a seat. You look like you've been crying."

"So do you," you pointed out.

"Stella's in the ED," he admitted. "She had a nasty inhalation injury. They uh, they might not be able to save her lung...which means she wouldn't be able to be a firefighter anymore." He looked back down.

"I'm sorry, Kelly. But, Stella's a fighter."

"Yeah, I know. She left home when she was eighteen and she didn't have the best home life before that either."

"She told me."

"She told you?" he asked, looking back up at you.

"Yeah, when she helped me get ready for homecoming, she told me that she gets it. She gets what it's like not having a mom to help you get ready for dances."

"Dude, we have a problem," Will said through the phone to Jay.

"Which is...?" Jay asked.

"Nat got called in. We don't have anyone to help Y/N get ready for the dance."

"Shit," Jay cursed. "Yeah, that really is a problem. Let me make some calls."

Jay hung up the phone with Will and then scrolled through his contacts. He thought about asking Hailey, but he wasn't super close with her yet, so she was off the table.

Then it hit him: Stella.

But he didn't have her number.

But he had Kelly's.

"Please don't be on shift, please don't be on shift," he muttered as the line started ringing.

"Hey, Halstead," Kelly answered.

"Hey, man. Listen, I've got a huge favor to ask you. Well, actually, it's more you asking Stella for the favor."

"What do you want me to ask her? She's right here."

"Well, it's Y/N's homecoming dance tonight and Nat was gonna come over and help her get ready and she got called into work. I was wondering if maybe Stella could come over and help Y/N out."

"Okay, I'll ask her."

He heard mumbling which he guessed was Kelly talking to Stella. "I'm gonna put her on," Kelly said after a minute.

"Okay."

"Hey, Jay," Stella said into Kelly's phone.

"Hey, Stella. Kelly explain everything to you?" Jay asked.

"He did. I'll be over there in an hour. Unless you need me sooner, then I can make it half an hour."

"An hour works great. Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver, really."

***

Jay had left to run to the store and had told you that Stella would be there in an hour. So, when someone knocked on your apartment door twenty minutes later, you were utterly confused.

You got up from the couch and looked through the peephole in your apartment door, seeing none other than frick and frack...otherwise known as Adam and Kevin.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked as you opened the door. "If you're looking for Jay, he went out to run some errands."

"No, we're actually here to see you," Kevin said.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Adam confirmed. "Aren't you supposed to be in a dress or something?"

"I'll put it on after Stella dose my hair," you told them. "Sorry, c'mon in."

The two entered the apartment, but you were still confused as to why they were here, and why they were here for you and not your brother.

"I guess we can teach her like this," Adam said.

"Might be better, too," Kevin started. "That way she won't rip her dress when we're first teaching her."

"Uh, excuse me. Right here, guys. What are you planning on teaching me?" you asked, annoyed that they were talking about you like you weren't even there.

"We are here, little Y/N, to teach you how to fight," Adam answered.

"First of all, don't ever call me little Y/N again. Second of all, no you're not. What's the real reason you're here?"

"That's it," Adam laughed.

You raised an eyebrow, so Kevin decided that he needed to clarify. "It's just for self-defense. Just in case a horny teenage boy comes up to you and starts grinding on you at the dance, so you'll know what to do."

You were still skeptical about this, but they did have a good point. You had to give them that.

"Okay, so what do I do? And, did Jay put you two up to this?" you asked.

"He didn't," Adam answered. "We came of our own free will. First thing you need to know about throwing a punch is doing it with a closed fist." You closed your fist. "Perfect. Now, when you throw the punch, make sure your arm is locked out."

You did as he said and your punch was a little flimsy, but you worked on it.

***

"Is this the right color you think? I tried my best," Jay said as he met Stella in the elevator on their way up to his apartment. He pulled out a sparkly black bottle of nail polish. Stella had asked if your nails were done, and when he said no, she asked if he could pick up some nail polish while she packed up all her hair stuff and makeup to help you get ready. He had reluctantly agreed. By looking at the picture of your dress he had on his phone--it was a two-piece dress where the skirt portion was long enough that it covered your belly. The skirt was white with a floral design and the top was black with sequins--and used that to figure out what color nail polish to pick. Stella told him to keep it simple, so he just picked up a black bottle with some sparkles.

"Perfect!" Stella exclaimed as she looked at the color.

They got off the elevator and then walked to your and Jay's apartment. When Jay opened the door, he was met with one of the weirdest sights he had seen in his life: Adam was rolling around on the floor in what looked to be pain and you were jumping up and down and celebrating and then giving Kevin a high five.

"What happened here?" Jay asked.

"Oh, hey bro," Kevin said.

"Hey, Jay," Adam gritted out from his spot on the floor.

"We were teaching Y/N self-defense in case someone grinds on her at the dance," Kevin supplied. "And, we got to the kneeing part."

"So, she kneed him where the sun don't shine?" Jay laughed.

"Yeah," Kevin confirmed.

"Good job, Y/N. Adam, I'll get you ice and a beer. Kev, you want one?" Kevin nodded and Jay handed the small bag containing the nail polish to Stella.

"So, here's the deal," Stella started. "Natalie got called into work, so you're stuck with me helping you get ready. I've got some nail polish that your brother so generously went out and picked up for you, a straightener, a curling iron, tons of bobby pins and little hair ties, and tons of makeup. Just tell me what you want and we'll get the ball rolling."

You helped Adam up off the ground and then started towards your room, Stella following close behind.

***

"You know, I never had a mom to help me with this kind of stuff either," Stella confessed as she was twisting your hair.

"You didn't?" you asked. "Who helped you?"

"My mom was in and out of my life in high school, so usually one of the nice neighbor ladies helped me with my hair. The makeup was all me."

"So, you know how it is. I feel like it's harder for me than for Will and Jay because they both had Mom for over twenty years. I only had her for nine."

"Well, if you ever wanna talk about girl stuff, I'm your girl. Now, anyone special you wanna dance with? Or are meeting him at the dance?" Stella asked.

"Well, there is someone." You blushed.

"Girl," she dropped your hair. "You can't just leave me hanging like that. Who is it?"

"His name's Caleb. He's really good friends with my friend, Andrea." Stella knew who this was. She knew that you had saved her life during the shooting half a year ago. "He's really cute. Tall, Brown hair. Blue eyes. One of the star players on the football team," you told her wistfully.

"Ooh, you got it bad," Stella laughed.

"I got what bad?"

"Your crush on this Caleb kid. You are crushing on him so hard, Y/N. Can't say I blame you. The popular kid is always the way to go...as long as he's not a douche."

"He's actually not. He's actually really nice."

"Well, does Caleb have a date to the dance?" Stella asked.

You sighed. "He does. Her name's Sasha and she's a total bitch. Excuse my French."

"Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: sooner or later, the dude sees his girl's true colors."

"I, uh, I thought about asking him to dance. I remember Jay saying when I was like four and he was going to his senior prom, that if he wasn't dating Allie and a girl asked him to dance, that he'd dance with her because it takes guts to ask someone to dance. But, since Caleb's got a date, that probably won't happen."

"Hey, if he's dancing solo and a slow song comes on, you gotta ask him to dance. Shoot your shot, girl."

"You're right. I'm gonna ask him to dance. I will ask Caleb to dance."

"That's the spirit! Now, we gotta get you looking extra hot so he falls in love with you when he's staring into your eyes while you two are slow dancing the night away."

You laughed and Stella returned to your hair.

***

Later that night, a slow song came on and Sasha was nowhere to be seen with Caleb. But, he was on the dance floor, near the back wall, all by himself. So, you asked him to dance. He said yes, and after, he even gave you a hug. Best dance of your high school career so far.

After you texted Andrea to tell her that you danced with Caleb because you had no idea where she was, the next person you texted was Stella. You knew she'd be hella excited for you.

You crushed on Caleb for a few months after that. But, then he got a new girlfriend and ended up cheating on her with not one, but two different girls. Needless to say, your crush on him died the second you found out this information.

"She loves you, you know," you said to Kelly.

"She told you this?" he asked.

"She didn't have to. Every time Stella sees you, or even when she talks to you, her face lights up."

"She's good for me. That's for sure."

You paused. You knew Kelly didn't have the best relationship with his dad and neither did Jay, Will, or even you. You also knew his dad had died a few months ago, around October and it was currently February. "Did you ever get mad at yourself?" you asked.

"About what?"

"When your dad died. You knew he wasn't the best person, but you were still sad."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I don't understand where you're going with this," Kelly apologized.

"I know my dad wasn't the best person, hell he was neglectful and unfit to be a parent, still is. So, why do me and my brothers still see him? Why do I still feel sad and scared that he might die?" you asked. You knew this was something you should be asking your school counselor--you had started seeing her a lot this past year because of the shooting--but Kelly was here now. And, maybe he'd understand because he didn't have a very good dad either.

"It's because you remember how he used to be," Kelly said. "You, Jay, and Will all remember when he was a better person. When Benny died, I didn't feel like I was grieving current Benny. I was more grieving for the Benny I knew when I was five years old when he was a good dad. And, I never gave up hope that he'd become a better father as I grew up. When he died, I knew it would never happen. You're grieving the dad you used to know and the hope you might lose of him becoming a better man."

You nodded because you really had no idea what to say. You thought Kelly was right; maybe that was the reason why you were sad and fearful about the possibility of your dad dying. You two sat in silence after that, finding comfort in each other's presence, each hoping for the best, but trying to prepare yourself for the worst.

***

You walked into the ED, to be met with Jay storming out and Will quickly following after him. You ran after them.

When they finally stopped, you made your presence known. "Okay, someone wanna tell me what the hell's going on?"

"Dad's brain dead and Will, Will doesn't want a second opinion and just wants to let Dad die," Jay spat.

"A- Are you sure he's brain dead? Maybe you read it wrong?" you asked. There had to have been some kind of mistake. Your dad couldn't be brain dead; he couldn't be a vegetable.

"Y/N, I know this is a lot of information to take in, but the EEG, the thing that reads brain waves, showed that Dad's brain dead. Dr. Abrams read it and he's our top neurosurgeon."

"I still want a second opinion," Jay restated.

"Abrams is our top neurosurgeon, Jay. The opinion doesn't get any better than that," Will told him.

Jay scoffed. "So all your degrees, all that money, all those years in school, this is the best you can do?"

"Jay, Dad almost died two years ago. He's been living on borrowed time."

"Abrams didn't say Dad had no chance!" Jay protested.

"One thousand to one is no chance."

"So you just want to give up?" Jay clenched his fists at his side.

"I've seen a lot of patients in his condition--"

"There goes that doctor voice."

"I'm sorry, but I am a doctor," Will retorted.

Jay scoffed. "Yeah, we got that message. And Dad knew you thought you were better than us. We always came in second. Hell, Y/N came in second because you were away at med school! Who was looking after her when Mom was dying? Me and Dad. Who took her in because Dad's a shitty parent? Me. You weren't there, and now you wanna decide what happens to Dad?" He stepped closer to Will.

Will took a step closer to Jay as well. "You know that's not true, Jay."

"Yes, it is!"

Will opened his mouth and started to say something, but you weren't listening, you were too busy stepping between your brothers because you sensed a fight about to break out.

"Enough!" you yelled. Both Will and Jay looked down at you, shocked at your outburst. "Dad's fucking dying in there and you're fighting about old shit! Don't you see that it doesn't matter? Do you really want to spend your last moments with Dad fighting? Because I sure as hell don't."

Then, you moved away from them and made your way to the bathroom before you started bawling. You really didn't want to do that in front of the other people milling around the hospital.

Jay sighed and put his hands behind his head as he watched you walk off towards the bathroom.

"I never thought I'd say this," Will started, "but she's right. We can't be fighting right now."

"Yeah, I guess we shouldn't be doing that," Jay said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"Guess me and Dad really are alike. Stubborn and quick to yell things we don't mean."

"I'm pretty sure all of us got the stubborn gene, even Y/N."

Then, The COO of the hospital, who Will introduced as Ms. Garrett walked up to them and told them that they had the full support and all the resources that the hospital had available to help their dad. This didn't seem like her at all, so Will excused himself to go talk to Ms. Goodwin. And, Jay figured this was as good a time as any to see how you were doing, as he hadn't seen you leave the bathroom yet.

***

Jay popped his head into the bathroom and since he only saw one stall in use and saw your shoes in that one, he entered the bathroom and locked the door.

He heard a sniffle. "Short Stack? You okay?" He paused, mentally kicking himself. "Stupid question, of course, you're not okay. I know you're in here," Jay said gently.

"Go away," you said through your tears.

"Y/N, you know I can't do that."

"I just wanna be alone...and for you and Will to stop fighting."

"We made up. Me and Will are fine. Can you please come out?"

You swallowed and frantically wiped your tears away and the snot that ran from your nose. Then, you walked out of the stall and immediately over to Jay and hugged him. "I'm sorry," you mumbled into his brown jacket. "I'm sorry for yelling and swearing. I just wanted you guys- I just wanted you guys to stop."

"I know, I know. Neither of us is mad at you. You had every right to be pissed at us."

"It's just- It's just... nevermind. It's stupid."

"Y/N, it's not stupid. Just tell me. I promise I won't laugh."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he confirmed.

You sighed. "I didn't get as much time with Mom as you two did and now I'm not getting as much time with Dad. You guys had both of them--" You drew in a shaky breath. "You guys had both of them at your high school graduations. I won't have that. I won't have that, Jay."

And that's when you crumbled and you just sobbed into Jay's jacket. When you were nine, you never really comprehended the number of things your mom wouldn't be there for, like your first high school dance, your first date, your first kiss, your high school graduation, your college graduation(s), your wedding, your possibly having a kid and her possibly having grandkids. Granted, your dad wasn't the best dad or even the best man in general, but now you'd have neither parent at any of those things, at any of those milestones.

Jay just held you as you continued to sob about all the things your parents wouldn't be there for, holding you just as your mom would hold him whenever he cried when he was younger.

***

You and Jay sat next to each other by your dad's bedside, the sounds of the vent that was currently keeping him alive were the only sounds that could be heard. Will came in and motioned for Jay to meet him outside the room.

"Be right back." He placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Be right outside," Will promised.

Outside of the room, Will explained that the reason Gwen Garrett wanted to keep your dad alive was that his bypass was 29 days ago. And that she just wants to keep your dad alive for one more day just so the hospital didn't take a hit.

"You think Dad would want this?" Will asked. "To stay alive just to buff some numbers?"

"No, no he wouldn't. But, me and Y/N talked while you tried to figure out what that Garrett lady wanted. Uh, Y/N didn't get as much time as we did with Mom and now she's getting less time than we are with Dad."

"Because she's a lot younger than us. What are you trying to say, Jay?" Will asked.

"I think Y/N should decide. She should decide whether or not we keep Dad on the vent because she had the least amount of time with him. She should get to decide whether or not she gets more time with him."

"Jay, I'm not trying to argue with you, but do you really think that's a good idea? Her decision could cause her a lot of trauma down the road if she ends up thinking she made the wrong choice in the future," Will pointed out.

"We could tell her our opinions and what we want, but tell her that ultimately, she gets to make the final decision. That way, she doesn't feel like it's totally on her," Jay suggested.

"And if she doesn't want to make that big of a decision?"

"We decide between ourselves."

Will sighed. Jay did make a good point. "Fine. But if she feels like shit for months, I'm blaming you."

"Add you to the list of people blaming me for bad shit in their lives."

"Are you lumping me together with criminals you put away?"

"Basically."

Will and Jay re-entered the room. "Why does it feel like he's squeezing my hand?" you asked.

Will sighed. He didn't want to crush your hope of your dad coming back, even though he knew it wouldn't happen, but he also knew that he couldn't give you false hope; he knew he needed to explain this to you.

"Those are just reflexes," Will answered. "I'm sorry, Short Stack, but they don't mean anything."

"They don't? He doesn't know I'm here?" You sniffled.

"He doesn't know," Will confirmed.

You nodded and continued to hold your dad's hand.

"Y/N, we have something to tell you," Jay started. You tore your eyes away from your dad and up to your brothers. "Me and Will decided that you should decide whether we keep Dad on the vent because you got the least amount of time with him."

"You- you guys want me to decide whether Dad lives or dies?" you asked.

Will nodded. "If you don't want to, me and Jay can decide between ourselves, but you can still tell us what you'd prefer. If you want to decide, we can let you do that. Or, if you want our opinions before you decide, that's fine, too."

"What do you guys think? I don't want to decide all by myself," you practically whispered.

And so, they explained to you how Garrett just wanted to keep your dad alive for one more day just to buff some numbers and how they didn't think he'd want to be alive just to do that, just to save the hospital from liability.

You also knew that there were one thousand to one odds against your dad coming back and that those weren't odds at all. He'd need a miracle. And, if there was one thing you knew about your dad, it was that he didn't believe in miracles. He believed in hard work, not miracles.

It was for these reasons that you said what you said next: "Let him go."

***

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any dumber," Will started when you and Jay arrived at your dad's apartment a few days later to go through his stuff. Surprisingly, most of it had been spared during the fire. "You went after the person responsible for the fire, didn't tell anyone, and ended up getting shot."

"You got shot?" you yelled as you walked in.

"Nice going, man. She didn't know," Jay said, annoyed. He turned to you. "It hit the vest. I'm totally fine. I just have some bruising on my chest. Nothing to worry about."

"And you two tell me to be careful," you mumbled. "I should be telling you that."

"It's no use, Y/N," Will said. "I tell him all the time. He just never listens."

"You know you're not a cat, right Jay? You don't have nine lives."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Where are we starting?"

***

Jay looked down at the pictures he was going through. He always thought that his dad didn't make it to his police academy graduation. But, the photo in front of him proved him wrong: there, in his hand, was a picture that his dad took of him on stage, getting his badge pinned to his chest when he had graduated from the police academy with the date written on the back.

He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs and keep you and Will from hearing them. But, he didn't know you were on your way to find him.

"Jay, Will's wondering if you want us to order pizza? You good with--" You stopped talking when you saw Jay sitting on the floor, staring at a photo with silent tears streaming down his face. "What's wrong?" You knelt down next to him.

Jay frantically wiped his tears away using the hand that wasn't holding the photo. "Sorry, yeah, tell Will he can order pizza."

"Jay," you said sternly. "What's wrong? And, don't you dare say nothing. Because you wouldn't let me say nothing, you'd bug me until I told you. So, if you don't tell me, I'm going to keep bugging you about it, just like you'd do to me."

Jay chuckled. "I really screwed myself over by using that parenting tactic, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Now, what's wrong?"

Jay sighed. The Halstead stubbornness was starting to show more and more now that you had been living with him. And, because of this, Jay knew that you wouldn't let up.

"I always thought Dad never went to my graduation from the academy." He set the picture on the floor between you guys. "But he did."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "You didn't know that?"

"Why would I? Did you know?" he asked, turning to look at you.

"Yeah. He had to leave early because he had to make sure he was home when I got home from school. That's why he couldn't congratulate you after. He never told you?"

"No, he didn't."

"You know the first thing he said to me when I walked inside?" Jay shook his head. "He said: your brother's a Chicago police officer. I'm proud of him. And your mother would be, too."

"He- he said that?" Jay asked, getting choked up once more.

"He did. He might not have said it, but he was so proud of you, Jay. So proud."

***

Will opened a cabinet to grab some paper plates for you three to eat your pizza off of. As he was grabbing them, his hand brushed up against something leaning up against the back wall of the inside of the cabinet. It wasn't one something, but multiple somethings. He furrowed his eyebrows and took out the entire stack of paper plates, causing the multiple somethings to fall to where the paper plates had previously been. Then, he took the mystery things out of the cabinet.

He gasped when he read the first one.

In his hand, he held six letters, two addressed to each of you, one from your mom and one from your dad.

"Will, what's taking so long?" Jay asked as he flipped open the pizza box. "Food's getting cold."

"I think the pizza's gonna have to wait, guys." Instead of grabbing the plates and bringing them to the table, he brought the letters instead.

"Those don't look like plates to me," Jay pointed out.

"Because they're not." He set the pile of letters on the table. "They're letters. Addressed to each of us."

"But, that's Mom's handwriting," Jay said, flabbergasted.

"What do they say?" you asked.

"Only one way to find out," Will said and reached for the two addressed to him.

You and Jay did the same.

You swore you could hear a pin drop as each of you slowly ripped opened the yellowing envelopes. The seals were easy to open because, since they had been sealed for so long, some of the stickiness was gone.

Will first started with the one from his dad.

Dear William,

I know I said a real man goes right to work. And, I know I was mad at you for doing what you wanted to do and becoming a doctor. But, I guess I just have to think of med school as on the job training...that you pay a ton of money for. You will never hear me say this out loud to you because you know as well as I do that I am as stubborn as they come and I hate admitting I was wrong. But, you did good, kid. Both you and Jay did.

I'll keep this short because, if you're reading this, that means I'm gone and I'm assuming you, Jay, and Y/N are busy with the arrangements. But, just know that even though I don't say it a lot, I love you and I'm proud of you, son.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

Will wiped below his eyes. His dad did say he was proud of him when he was out of surgery two years ago. And, Connor had told him everything his dad had said about him before he went under the anesthesia. But, it was nice to have that in writing because it would be there forever.

It was like all three of you had the same idea to open the letter from your dad first. Your logic was that you figured your mom's would make you cry more, so you figured you'd open that last.

Jay fought to keep his eyes dry as he read the letter from his dad. He regretted the last words he had said to him, now more than ever.

Dear Jayson,

I know you think I hated you for going into the military straight out of high school. But, I didn't. I was just scared, scared I was going to lose you. One thing you don't know is that I tell everyone I work with that you're a war veteran. I love bragging about you and telling people about your accomplishments. They always say I should be so proud of you. And, I'm sorry I never tell you that, but I am proud of you, really proud of you. You fought for our country and saved countless lives over there. Just keep saving the innocent, Jay. That's what you seem to do best...and fight against the people who tell you that you can't do it, just like how you fought against me when I told you not to join the military.

I'll keep this short because if you're reading this, that means I'm gone. But, always remember that I am so proud of you and that I love you so much.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

His dad was proud of him. And now he had a reason as to why his dad didn't want him to join the military: he was scared. And, Jay told himself that if he had his own kids, he'd probably do the same thing because he had seen the horrors of battle and he wouldn't want any of his kids to go through that.

Finally, you read yours. And, as you read it, you were crying more than your brothers. You really didn't care, though.

To my daughter,

As I am writing this, you are nine years old and want to be a doctor. I don't know how that will pan out or if you'll change your mind on what you want to do. But, I am here to tell you, don't let anyone or anything stand in your way of what you want to be. Don't let Will stand in your way and don't stand in his shadow if you become a doctor. Strive to be better than him. Compete with each other if you end up going into the medical field; a little friendly competition never hurt anyone. Be smart and keep your brothers in line because Lord knows they're both as stubborn and as reckless as they come.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

So, Jay was right: Dad wasn't always a sexist pig. And, Kelly was right as well: you missed your old Dad, the one who believed you could do anything, not the one who you knew when you were 13 to now, who was drunk, unfit to parent, and sexist as hell.

Then, Will opened the letter from his Mom.

To my first baby, Will,

First of all, let me say that I love you so much, more than you can ever imagine. I know you'll be a great doctor. Just, be smart, and try to be a little less stubborn because I'm assuming you're going to have to work with other doctors. Find it in you to compromise. I don't know what to say in this because me and your dad agreed that you and Jay and Y/N will get these letters when he's passed as well, so I don't know how far into the future you'll be seeing this. So, I figured I'd leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips to Will:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. This goes for Jay, too.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, same goes for Jay.

3. I'm sorry to say this, but never grow out a long beard. You have red hair and if you grow out a beard, you'll look like an overgrown leprechaun. Sorry, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. In this envelope you will find $500. This is to help you with med school loans, malpractice insurance, or if you're reading this way into the future, to help you with bills, and your own little family.

Will let out a small chuckle as he read the last life tip. And, thankfully, he had never decided to grow out his beard. And now he never would.

Jay looked down at his mom's loopy cursive handwriting and began to read.

To Jay, my second baby,

First of all, I love you more than you can ever imagine. And I am so, so proud of you for choosing to serve your country. I don't know whether you'll decide to stay in or leave the rangers, but I'm sure you'll be amazing at whatever it is you choose to pursue. And Jay, please keep in mind that you only have one life. Don't be crazy and reckless out there. I don't think you will be, but I'm just reminding you because I'm your mom and that's what moms do, they nag you and they worry about you no matter what. And, if you're reading this, that means your dad has passed away as well. Don't take this the wrong way, but please go see a therapist. You've fought in a war and seen terrible things overseas (I know because you once had a nightmare at home. I just didn't tell you that I knew this) and you've lost both of your parents. You should talk to a professional, sweetheart. But, always remember that I will be with you when your nightmares get rough. And, if Y/N wants to follow in your footsteps and go into the military, talk to her about it, but don't fight her on it like Dad did to you. Finally, I will leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips for Jay:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. I already wrote this in Will's letter as well.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, this is in Will's letter, too.

3. I know you want to save everyone, Jay. And, you have a big heart, but you also take things personally. Just know that you can't save everyone and that is okay. Be kind to yourself and think of all the people you did save as opposed to those who you couldn't. It's okay to grieve for them, but don't let your grief last forever.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is $500. Use it towards therapy. But, if you already made the leap to go to therapy, one I am proud of you, and two, use it for something else. Donate it to veterans in need maybe. Or, use it to help pay off loans if you decided to go to college if you ended up leaving the military. Or, if you're reading this way in the future, use this money to help with bills and your own little family.

Maybe Jay would start therapy again now. He had gone a while ago, but after his meds stabilized his nightmares again, he stopped going. Maybe he'll go again because as he always said, his mom was a smart lady.

You were ugly crying as you opened the envelope and read the first few words that your mom had written.

To my baby girl,

Y/N, I love you so much and you will always be my baby girl no matter how old you get. I know I only got nine years with you, but know that I will always be with you in your heart no matter where you are. I was so excited when I found out I was having a girl and I'm so sorry we didn't get as much time on earth together as we should have. Continue doing what you love. Don't let your brothers take Beary from you. And, don't take no for answer when someone tells you that you can't do something just because you're a girl. Us girls are strong. As for the future, sweetheart, you have the kindest little personality right now. Never lose that. But, at the same time, don't let anyone take advantage of that. Stand up for yourself and stand up for others in need. I am going to leave you with more life tips than I left your brothers because they're older and should know a few more things than you at the moment...and they aren't girls.

Mom's life tips for Y/N:

1. And, don't laugh at this, but it works. When shaving down there, apply deodorant down there after. It helps to keep razor bumps and itchiness at a minimum.

2. Don't go for the first man that says I love you. You need to make mistakes before you fall truly and madly in love.

3. Girls can be cruel in middle school and high school. It's okay if you only have one or two true friends because having a few super close friends is better than having lots of distant ones.

4. Don't depend on any man for anything. Before moving in with your boyfriend and/or getting married, make sure you are financially stable all by yourself. That way, you will be able to leave him if things go south.

5. When you do get married, always keep money hidden away or have a secret bank account that your husband doesn't know about. That way, if things get really bad really fast, you can get out of there as fast as possible.

6. Finally, and I'm assuming Dad, Will, or Jay has already told you these things, but if they haven't, here they are. When drinking, watch the bartender make your drink. Don't take drinks from anyone. And don't leave your drink unattended.

I love you, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is a $20 gift card to Build-A-Bear. If you are too old to use it, save it for your kids. Or, if you have kids, give it to your kids. There is also $480. This can be used to pay for dresses for school dances, for college, and if you're reading this way in the future, to start a stash of money that your husband doesn't know about, or to help with bills and your own little family.

All three of you were in tears. But, you always knew that both of your parents would be with you and that they were so, so proud of each of you and that they loved each of you more than the world itself.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment if I made you cry! I got a request of Kevin and Adam teaching Y/N how to punch, so I incorporated it into this imagine. To the anon who requested that, I hope you liked it! Anyway, please reblog/like and comment to tell me what you think! As always if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, liked the imagine? Buy me a coffee here.

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

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miss-choco-chips · 3 years

Text

Bird Watchers

It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.

For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.

And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.

---.---

Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.

(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)

---.---

The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.

He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.

But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.

Except for right now.

“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”

Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.

Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.

“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”

‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’

He couldn't risk it.

“Good evening, Mr…?”

Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”

Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.

“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”

“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”

Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.

“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”

It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.

As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.

“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.

Something in the man’s face shifted.

“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”

For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.

He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.

“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.

Mr Harrinson’s face fell.

“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”

Fear came back, full force.

“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”

Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?

“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”

Tim crouched next to him, tentative.

“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”

Ed was already shaking his head.

“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”

“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”

He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.

Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.

“Mr Harrinson…”

“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”

Tim thought his words over carefully.

“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.

He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.

“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”

Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.

---.----

The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.

So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.

“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.

The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.

Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.

“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”

Tim stepped closer, carefully.

“May I sit?”

“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.

“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”

The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”

“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”

“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”

Tim swallowed.

“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”

She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.

“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”

She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.

“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”

Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.

Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?

A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.

“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”

The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.

“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”

He shrugged again.

“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”

The braided haired lady hummed for a second.

“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.”

Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.

She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.

“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”

Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.

“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”

She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.

“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”

Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.

His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.

---.----

He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.

It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.

So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.

There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.

“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.

But it wasn’t the time to ask.

The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.

She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is.

Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.

So, that leaves very few choices.

“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.

The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.

But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing.

There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.

But then, the kid kept talking.

“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.

“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”

“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”

Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.

Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.

“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.

“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”

By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.

“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”

Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.

When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.

“So, why did you bring her here?”

He shrugs, a bit abashed.

“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”

A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.

“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.

As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.

Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.

“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”

He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.

Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.

Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.

He sleeps a bit better that night.

---.----

He almost doesn’t see him.

Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters.

It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.

“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…

Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.

The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”

He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.

(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)

“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second. If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”

The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?

“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”

Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”

“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.

He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”

After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.

Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.

“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”

He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive, but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”

He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.

“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”

Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.

He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.

He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.

“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”

Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.

“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”

Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms.

He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?

“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.

Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”

Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…

“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.

“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”

The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion.

Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.

Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.

“Yeah, why not?”

They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.

At least, he still has Dick.

---.----

He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…

It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind.

He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.

Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.

So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.

That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.

But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…

Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.

So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.

...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)

Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.

He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.

“Robin!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t do it, please!”

He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.

They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.

It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.

There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.

“Robin!”

It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.

“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.

“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).

“I…”

“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.

“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him? It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…

“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…

“Braided Hair Lady?”

Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof.

“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”

A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.

“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”

Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.

“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”

Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets.

Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.

Then it hit him. “What app?”

Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.

“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”

“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”

“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”

“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death.

“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”

“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”

“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now.

“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”

...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.

Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”

Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”

“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”

“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.

That hit Tim then, hard.

They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.

“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”

Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”

“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”

This was an out of body experience.

Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.

“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”

Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”

Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.

He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)

“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”

It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.

“Welcome home, Red Robin.”

#My writing #Tim drake #batman fanfic #red robin #trigger warning:#depression #suicide attempts #discussion of suicide #overdose #mental illness #hurt comfort #Tim doing the comfort and being the hurt #until he gets the comfort #happy ending #wholesome #I swear the tags are scary but it IS wholesome #Tim drake centric #my writting

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purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (2/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

For now, nothing to complain about! We got Nya, we got MAYA AND RAY, we got GILES PANTON BACK A LEGO SHOW!!! 😍😍😍

Of course now I'm definitely curious about what the story is really about, like I'm guessing Wojira will wake up at some point so... Great Devourer all over again maybe? 😅 Idk, for now I just wanna enjoy Nya having her moment 🥳

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

New alert for reader, during the Nexo Knights period I was and still am the hugest Clay fan. Now that his voice is in this season I might scream more than necessary... keep that in mind 😅

I love the humor in this, all random but still kinda clever 😂😂 Maybe I'm biased because I love Jay but still 🤷‍♀️

I really like the design of the marine world, very cool!! 🌊🌊🌊

I guess I'm not really seeing any big plot twist moment for now? Ninjago seasons have history of basing seasons on a "we need to prevent this event from happening but it will happen anyway", so I can see Wojira waking up no matter what 🤷‍♀️

I wonder if that will be shocking? Usually when this situation happen, someone makes a major sacrifice (Zane with the Overlord, sensei Garmaron with Chen, again sensei G with the Preeminent...). Maybe Maya? I DON'T WANT THAT 😭 But I am curious, everything is going nicely and I'm not sure what it will bring! 🤩 I'M EXCITED SO LET'S GO!!!

THE WRATH OF KALMAAR

So this is the name of Clay's new incarnation, neat! 👍

Okay really, for having a season lately the main character just can't help but be trapped by the villain: kinda Zane in the ICE Chapter, Jay in Prime Empire, Cole in Master of the Mountain... we can call it a tradition at this point 🤷‍♀️

Giant serpent, yadda yadda, I wonder if we're gonna address the Great Devourer at some point? Not mandatory, but the reference would be very cool 🤩

Clay's new incarnation is a prince I- *hyperventilates in awe*

Nya playing dumb lol, I don't know if that's personal experience as she used to get kidnapped a lot in the past or she just have too many idiots in her life 😂

ALSO ANOTHER BEST GIRL'S SMIRK

NYA YOU'RE TOO MUCH ILY ❤💙❤💙

Jay I love that you're so worried about Nya but maybe try NOT TO DIE? YOU'RE WITH LLOYD AND ZANE YET YOU'RE THE ONE GOING FOR THE SACRIFICE WTH?? 😱 But he's worried about his cool GF I kinda get it, also he didn't do it so good...

WHAT. THE. HECK.

WHO ARE YOU OH MY FIRST SPINJITZU MASTER YOU'RE ADORABLE I WANNA KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU YOU ABSOLUTE CUTIE 🤩🤩🤩

So Giles is doomed to voice LEGO characters with daddy issues 😂 That being not having a dad at all or having one that is... a good guy? Idk he seems chill with the surface at first glance, I wonder what's the story of this family

Maya reminds of my mom, she also mentions her work a lot and I study the same thing. But she doesn't want to brag, it gets annoying but she just wants to give me advice. It's nice to see actually 👍 Also Ray reference NEAT ❤❤❤

Wow, if any child-parent couple of this show was doomed at going semi Emperor's New Groove style, I would've bet on Ed and Jay honestly 😅

Oh HECK yes I knew that with my water girls things were BOUND to get cool 😎 ... yeah I know where the door is *goes away*

JAY NO WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT TRYING TO DIE STOP DOING WHAT YOU'RE DOING!!! 😱😱😱

My GOSH that scared the crap out of me 😅 Jay honey we have too many deaths in this team, you're not helping... BUT YOU POWERED AN ENTIRE SHIP BECAUSE YOU LOVE NYA AND YOU DIDN'T DIE AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BLUEBELL 💙💙💙

They were all so worried, I love this ninja family so freaking much 💜💜💜 Also better not tell this one to his GF 😂

And Bluebell?

Welcome to the "change eye color because of elemental power" team! WE GOT ANOTHER ONE I LOVE WHEN IT HAPPENS!!! 😍😍😍

Awww, Zane letting Jay be the captain, that was so cute of him 💕

Another great episode! Doing great so far but I still wonder if we got into the main story. Feels like there should be more, well we got time! Next one! 😊

LONG LIVE THE KING

Sooooo... that's one very telling title 😅 If we're going full Lion King on this one, I think I know where this is going 😵

Maya: Don't they know that metal taste terrible?!? (Again feels like Kai could say something like this 😂)

FINALLY NYA USING FREAKING WATER POWERS UNDER THE SEA!!! Thank you Maya for saying out loud what we were all thinking ��👌

NINJA TO THE RESCUE!!!

Pff, okay, the fact that Kalmaar is all evil and cruel and then he gets startled like that, it's kind or adorable! 💕 Honestly Giles got such a deep voice, with Clay it was firm warm and reassuring, here we got plain devious and I ADORE it 😍😍😍

Maya come on don't doubt your daughter 😅 But I like her, and if she knew Nya they way we all do she wouldn't doubt that she could make it every time 😎

Yeah I was right, the king seems chill... oww I fear what's coming then 😳

Okay, so Kalmaar thinks that the world should go back to be lead by them like in the past, while the king just wants peace with the surface. And as we know, no drama no season so...

Yep, saw the death coming 😅

WHOA DID NOT SEE THAT LITTLE BLAME ACT COMING KALMAAR IS SO EVIL!!!... with a glorious voice but still (Rose focus on something that is not that godlike voice, you can do it 💪💪)

THE OLD ONE TWO I LOVE THIS SO MUCH COMBO ATTACK!!! 🌊❄🌊❄

Awww Benthomaar is actually really cute, he's so worried about his father 😢 And he's adopted apparently? I wanna know the story!!! 🤩🤩

Yep, there's the reason why Zane got a mask even though he doesn't need one, it completes his attire 😂😂😂 My gosh how I love this nindroid ❄

Did... did Jay just say phooey? Dude Ducktales ended a while ago but I'm still not over it 😭

I said it once before I'll say it again, Ninjago is really REALLY good at making death scenes. Like, omg, I genuinely felt sorry for them 😢😢 I also really liked that the king didn't ask to be avenged, he still wanted peace and he asked his son to protect the ninja and he cried actual tears...

MY HEART WTH 😭😭😭 So we're adding this to the real tears moments of the show, with Jay crying over pie, Zane with the flashback of his dad, Jay crying over Nya and Lloyd thinking the ninja are gone... my world this show is angsty 🙂

Third startle for prince Kalmaar, I love the gag 😂 Oh wait, king Kalmaar 🤷‍♀️

Okay, we got a coup, the ninja running away because they got framed, Benthomaar is most likely going to join them or at least help them, I guess Wojira will come out at some point while... Kai, Ray and Cole are still playing videogames? 😅

THIS IS GETTING COOL I WONDER WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT AAAAHHH HECK YES THERE IS THE HYPE!!! 😍😍😍

Although I hope we get more stuff with Nya and Maya, that's what I like 🤩

ESCAPE FROM MERLOPIA

I'm good at English and I can follow most of it, but the fantasy names are tricky so I didn't get before that this was the name of the place 😅 It's nice, at least it's not another Atlantis 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

LLOYD I SWEAR TO YOUR GRANDPA IF YOU TRY TO DIE AGAIN 😱

NYA YOU ARE NOT A GOOD SUBSTITUTE NONE OF YOU ARE OMG 😱😱

Ah, there he is, my new son Benthomaar 💙 He is so lovable already, I know nearly nothing about him and I like his character already a lot! He could relate with all of the ninja really, but maybe with Jay the most? They were both adopted after all 🤔🤔

*scribble note for a fanfic for later if this doesn't come up in the season*

Alright moving on 😗

I am so happy Nya gets a season, Kelly got a great emotional range that doesn't come out often in my opinion, but with a full introspection of water goddess we are all blessed by her voice acting 😍

Gotta say, admitting that Bentho didn't have to help them to answer the usual 'Can we trust him' question is pretty reasonable, like, better than other stupid answers 😅

Also don't mind me

Just screenshotting by ship 💙❤💙❤

Somehow lately we are letting Jay do the talking and I both hate and LOVE the fact 😂😂 Plain Bluebell nonsense, heck yes that's my jam👌👌

MAYA IS SO COOL OMG 🤩🤩

I literally can't not laugh at the startle gag with Kalmaar 😂

LLOYD WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOUT SELF SACRIFICING!! PLEASE IT'S NOT EVEN YOUR SEASON!! 😱😱😱😱

Aww Jay is still the Captain, nice! Wonder if it's giving him Skybound flashbacks... I hope not considering all he went through that time, poor Sparky 😅😅

ARE THOSE LITTLE WU ROCKETS?? 🤯

Can we skip a season and hang out with Pixal one time? I really wanna know how she organizes her free time to create these things 😍😍😍

THANK YOU LLOYD FOR NOT DYING ONCE AGAIN, MUCH APPRECIATED!!! 💚💚💚 My green bean needs a vacation... they all do 😅

THEY ARE

SO BEAUTIFUL 💙🌊💙🌊

Alright, back to the island hoping Kalmaar will not track us and follow us so he can get to the place and discover the amulet 🙂

Are we not calling the others? I miss my flame babe and Rocky ❤🖤❤🖤 Also RAY WATCHA DOIN I WANNA KNOW EVERYTHING 🤩🤩

THE TALE OF BENTHOMAAR

Wait what? Shark boy backstory? SHARK BOY BACKSTORY?!? 👀👀👀

Wow, I see that Kalmaar didn't change a thing growing up, still the same gonna-be-a-villain 😂 Of course his voice got a lot deeper and cool and okay you know I love his voice moving on

I find it kinda funny that Kalmaar is so focused on royal blood and superiority, while Clay was basically a farm boy who worked his way up. Giles knows how to get the character no matter what 😍

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

BABY BENTHOMAAR AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

The king seems like such a good pers- fish- creature 😅 Now I'm double sad that he died, my world, why do I always care so fast, it's not healthy in this show where everyone could die 😰😰

I'M SORRY IS THAT KAI'S HAIR??? 😂😂😂 I LITERALLY CAN'T LOOK AWAY WTH I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS

Literally every frame of Benthomaar makes me love him even more 😢

Interesting that we got an academic villain, he kinda reminds me of Clouse in a way, maybe even Harumi since she studied her way to her plan as well? I like that we got a bit of personality too!

Using your little bro for your own purpose... it's very evil but kinda also brotherly like 😂

Benthomaar really gives me that very PRECIOUS vibe, kinda the perfect son but also a naive and unaware BABY 💙

LEGO HUG 🤩🤩 Not exactly reciprocated but still 😅

Ooohhh, so this is how he found the temple! I like this, it shows that Bentho is most likely physically stronger than Kalmaar, while evil brother is focused on brain and studies. They are planned differently, I like it! 😚😚

Ouch, peer pressure... sibling pressure? Eh you get what I mean 😂

POOR BENTHO 😭😭😭 YOU GOT THE NINJA NOW DON'T WORRY WE'RE NEVER GONNA LEAVE YOU ALONE YOU PRECIOUS SHARK BABY!! 🦈🦈🦈

Bentho: will I really fit in with you guys? Do you really understand how I feel?

Lloyd: Jay was adopted, Nya's parents were gone most of her life, Zane lost his father while mine turned evil

Bentho(tearing up): yeah that can work

Okaaaaayyyyy, I like that we got a bit of backstory for Bentho too! We didn't get much for Vanya in Master of the Mountain, which is the only thing I was sad about (very little detail, AMAZING season 🖤🖤🖤), nice to see it here!!

But I really want more Nya and Maya interactions, I hope we'll soon get to them again!! 😍😍😍

Alright, getting somewhere here! I'm very curious about what's next 🤩🤩

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boykisserbuckley · 4 years

Note

BUCK + TRAPPED UNDER RUBBLE PLS 💕

love that you’re the first to send a prompt :) this is 100% designed to hurt you specifically. have fun!!

(we’re playing fanfic bingo if anybody wants to join in)

Buck really needs to stop jinxing things. It happens every time; the moment he lets himself think that things are going to work out for him, for the team, it all goes to shit immediately. It’s like the universe is listening, waiting to show him just how much bad luck a person can have in their life. He’s getting pretty tired of it. But, endlessly optimistic as he always tries to be, he lets himself hope things will work out anyway. Yeah, maybe it’s a little bit out of spite. Suck it, universe.

Of course, that just makes the universe hit him harder, because it doesn’t like being insulted, apparently. He’s out on a call with the team this time. They’d had a minor earthquake, much smaller than the one they’d had when Eddie was still a rookie, but it was enough to cause some structural damage and put a couple of people in need of rescuing. No big deal, right? That’s Buck’s specialty.

The house they pull up to is a nice one. Three stories, old and elegant; it’s one of the few Victorian-style mansions still left in this area of the city—which was designated as a historic preservation zone in 1983, Buck announces, even if Chim laughs and teases that they didn’t ask—but it doesn’t look like it’ll be standing much longer. The roof has caved in over the wrap-around porch, making it a bit of a challenge to reach the door, and Buck can tell the upper levels are beginning to strain. Dispatch had informed them that there were two people on the second floor, where a doorway had collapsed and trapped them in their bedroom.

Buck and Eddie head in, picking their way over the wreckage of the porch. Buck eyes the ceiling warily when they make it past the door, noting one of the larger cracks that’s opened up in a corner. The house might be mostly in one piece, but it’s definitely not stable. They’ll have to be quick.

“Looks like the stairs are still viable,” Eddie says, testing his weight on the lowest few steps. They hold.

“Convenient,” Buck says. He follows Eddie up, and they find the issue, clear as day. Just like dispatch had said, the doorway of the bedroom had collapsed, and parts of the third floor had come down on top of it, making the whole front section of the room impassable. Unless, of course, you’re a firefighter with heavy equipment designed specifically for this purpose.

Buck gets himself set up to start shifting debris while Eddie calls out to the couple, trying to gauge how far they are from the wreckage, or if there are any injuries. Thankfully, it seems like they’d managed to get themselves out of the way; they’re unhurt, and huddled in the corner of the room that still has a ceiling.

They get the couple out in record time, and Buck feels lucky for the first time in a while. Eddie leads the way back down the stairs while Buck follows, keeping the couple between them. It’s easy. No one’s hurt this time. They’ve had simple calls all day, and they’re nearing the end of their shift with nothing major having gone down at all. It’s probably the first time in months that they’ve had a relatively relaxed shift, and it’s almost nice.

Just then, the ground rumbles. Buck steadies himself on a wall as the aftershock ripples underneath them, setting the house trembling all over again. He can hear the old wood creaking ominously.

They’re so close to the door. Eddie is nearly there already, kicking out debris to make room to get the couple safely outside. Buck rights himself and moves, herding his charges towards the opening Eddie has just created. He can feel the aftershock fading, but they don’t want to waste any time, because that crack he’d spotted earlier is larger than before and no one wants to get caught when this building comes down.

It’s just as he helps the man they’d rescued through the doorway and gets ready to climb out himself that Buck realizes he’s done it again; the universe hates him, and he’d had the audacity to think this was going to be easy. The walls groan loudly, and he makes the mistake of looking up, just in time to see the fissure in the ceiling widening further. Oh, shit, he thinks.

Buck scrambles desperately for the doorway, but he only makes it far enough to catch Eddie’s wide eyed expression for a split second before the ground shifts, tilts, and the walls come tumbling inwards.

~~~

Buck comes back to himself in a haze of pain. It’s everywhere, a whole body ache that won’t let up. So this is what a house feels like, he muses, and then frowns when he realizes that doesn’t make any sense. His mind feels sluggish, like it hasn’t quite caught up to what’s happening, and he can’t bring himself to focus on anything past the fact that everything hurts.

He tries to shift, and the pain flares harshly, slamming him the rest of the way into consciousness as he tries to breathe through it. He blinks his eyes open to darkness, the faint shapes of wooden beams above him, and plaster dust coating everything in a fine layer of white. There’s noise coming from somewhere by his ear, and it takes him a moment too long to realize that it’s his radio, still clipped to his uniform. It clicks again and Buck’s head lolls to the right, trying to listen.

“Buckley!” Bobby’s voice crackles through, sounding like this isn’t the first time he’s tried to call for him. How long had Buck been out? His head aches too much to try to think, so he lets it go. It doesn’t matter anyway.

He feels like he should answer. His captain is calling for him, so he should respond, right? He can’t ignore Bobby. He doesn’t want to get fired again.

Buck tries to reach for his radio, only to pull up short when his left arm won’t move. Why won’t it move? He rolls his head over to his other side, blinking slowly, and—oh. It’s stuck. It’s stretched out past the little pocket of space he’s found himself in, meaning it wasn’t protected by the larger beams that are holding the rest of the debris up from crushing him completely.

Without thinking, Buck tugs on it, trying to get it free. His mind doesn’t register how bad that idea was until his vision nearly whites out, agony lancing up the limb all the way to his shoulder. He’s panting by the time it fades back to a slightly-less-debilitating ache, and he decides that he’s definitely not going to try that again. Instead, he reaches for his radio with his right arm, which seems mostly fine. His team is still calling for him, and he wants to respond, but the best he can manage when he fumbles for the button is a low whine. The clamoring voices all stop, briefly, and then—

“Buck?” Bobby again, more tentative than Buck has ever heard him.

“Bobby,” he groans, finally getting his voice to work.

“Oh, thank god,” Bobby says. “Just hold on, son, we’ll get you out of there.”

Buck feels himself drift for a second. Everything feels a little fuzzy, but he can’t find it in himself to worry, not when he knows his team is coming for him. They’ll get him out.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie’s voice from the radio brings him back, just barely. “You still with us, buddy?”

Buck hums affirmatively.

“Gotta give me more than that, man,” Eddie chastises. “You know the drill. Stay awake, keep talking. How about you tell me how you’re feeling, so we know what we’re lookin’ at when we get you out of there?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Buck murmurs. He blinks languidly. “Head hurts.”

“I’m sure it does,” Eddie says. “You were out for a bit.”

“Think I fucked up my ribs,” Buck continues, “an’ my arm. It’s stuck.”

Eddie lets out a low whistle, and he sounds sympathetic when he prompts, “Anything else?”

“Don’t think so,” Buck says. He blinks again, eyelids feeling heavier than before. Why is he so tired? “Gettin’ sleepy down here, Eds.”

“None of that, bud,” Eddie responds, “How about I tell you what Christopher is doing for his history project? He’s learning about dinosaurs.”

Buck knows Eddie is just trying to keep him awake, but he actually does want to know what Christopher is learning, so he agrees. Eddie launches into the dinosaur spiel easily. Buck just listens as he talks, letting his arm fall across his midsection now that he doesn’t need it to press the button on his radio.

Belatedly, he recognizes that his side is wetter than it should be. He hadn’t even registered it amidst all the pain from his arm, but now that he’s got his hand pressed up against it, he can feel the warmth seeping out against his fingers.

Huh, he thinks, bringing his hand up to look at it. He can’t make out much in the dark, but it’s definitely dripping with something.

“Eddie,” he calls into the radio, trying not to let it slip out of his slick fingers. Eddie stops in the middle of his sentence, but before he can ask, Buck mutters, “Think ‘m bleeding.”

“Fuck,” Eddie hisses, mostly to himself, it seems. Buck can hear him call out to Bobby, before he’s back again. “We’re almost there, Buck, don’t worry. We got you.”

“I jinxed it,” Buck says quietly. He thinks he should put pressure on the wound, or something, but his body feels heavy and he can’t bring himself to move his good hand. He wants to keep talking to Eddie.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“I jinxed it,” Buck repeats, his words coming out a little slurred. “Thought we were gonna make it. But th’ universe hates me. Made me fall.”

He thinks Eddie responds, but he can’t really be sure. He feels like he’s underwater. The sounds of shifting rubble are distorted and distant, and he’s losing his precarious grip on consciousness again.

“Buck luck,” he snorts, half out of it. His hand slips off the radio. He dimly registers someone calling to him, from somewhere close, but his energy is spent. He lets himself fade out, and hopes his team gets through to him in time.

~~~

Buck really needs to stop jinxing things. This is, what, the fifth time he’s ended up in the hospital? Sixth? That’s too many. He’s so tired of hospitals. At least this time, they’ve got him on the good painkillers, so he doesn’t feel quite as shitty as he did when he was stuck under two floors worth of rubble.

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and gives himself a moment to focus, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmed lights of the room. He takes stock: left arm in a heavy cast from wrist to elbow. Side and chest wrapped up, head still aching like a bitch but better now that there’s a pillow under it rather than a pile of stone foundation. Right hand being held by someone else. What?

Buck frowns and looks down at his hand, where it’s grasped between both of Eddie’s, who is fast asleep and spread out across two hospital chairs. Buck stares at him for a moment, debating whether or not to wake him. Ultimately he decides not to, because he doesn’t really want him to wake up and decide to take his hand back. Near-death experiences call for a little hand-holding, right? So Buck is just going to let himself enjoy this for a minute. He sighs and settles back, still tired enough that he wants to fall straight back into sleep. After another moment of studying the way Eddie’s hands are clutching his, even in sleep, Buck closes his eyes again. His last thought as he drifts off is, maybe my luck isn't so bad, after all.

(posting the card again here so ppl know which prompts have been claimed!!)

#hurt/comfort bingo #911 fox #evan buckley #hurt evan buckley #fanfic bingo #my fic #911 fic #mutuals #karenwilson #b!writes

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

Text

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 11

Last time, on Brotherhood:

Onwards to Rush Valley!

[Narrator] “Maes Hughes is dead…” I said, onwards to Rush Valley. You don’t need to remind me. And jeez, it’s going to be brutal when the Elrics and Winry hear about this. Episode 11: “Miracle at Rush Valley” Huh, looks like a rather desert-y area, scrub trees and tan stone surrounding the town. I guess I’ve gotten used to the more European environment of Central and East. Quick look at the town itself as Winry begins what I predict will be a long gush over the place, fair number of people walking around the streets, most carrying cases of some sort. The town sign is held up by two pillars designed as mechanical hands, and I’m seeing “Automail” on a lot of signs. So like Winry said, town is big on the mechanical limbs. Makes economic sense, the desert climate would tend more towards mining than agriculture, and people making metal arms and legs would gravitate to the source of their building materials. And yeah, Automail limbs (and an eyepiece, neat!) everywhere. I like this town! Winry jumps around with such enthusiasm that the townsfolk seem a bit unnerved, and the Elric Brothers settle in for a long day of “follow the fangirl”. Ed gripes about being out in the heat to look at automail (hey, you’re the one wearing black in the desert, buddy), asks why they didn’t just drop Winry at the station and continue on to visit Teacher. Pfft, A) like she would have let you, and B) stop denying the ship. Suddenly someone calls out for Ed to stop for a sec, and Oh My Leto Ed’s surrounded, the man grasping his arm and calling out for everyone to look at this unique model. Oh dear, it really is a town of Winry’s isn’t it? And we even get return of the funny sound effects, the crowd [*Swarm*] and [*Jostle*]-ing around him. Well hello there, young dark-skinned girl! You wouldn’t happen to be our focus character for the episode, would you? Oh my gosh Winry, maybe be a little more concerned that the crowd just stripped Ed for a “closer look”. Ed takes a moment to redress as the crowd turns to [*Badger*] Winry and Al, griping about automail engineers. But then he starts patting his pockets… uh oh, we’re down one State Alchemist watch! [Random NPC with Robot Eye]: “It sound like you guys had a run-in with Paninya.” 10-to-1 this is the unique character from before. Townsfolk say she’s a pickpocket that targets tourists, they might know where she is. If they could just have another look at the automail? Hey, back off with that wrench, buddy! One angry Ed later and we’ve been pointed to an automail shop run by Dominic. Team Alchemist are now staggering through the mountains, since Dominic lives way outside of town to find the highest quality ore. More sniping between the two blondes, Al just walks behind them. One plus for being a Soulbound armor; you don’t have to worry about the heat! Pity about all the drawbacks… Oh hey, Al just spotted someone! And yup it’s the girl from the crowd earlier, running across a wooden bridge with the watch in her hand. Ed goes into full-on Toph Mode, Earthbending huge stone pillars to run down as he charges at the pickpocket, who quite reasonably turns and runs from the angry Alchemist. After a little bit, Ed catches up and forms a stone wall to block Paninya, who just says “That was awesome!” and asks how he did that. Well, props for keeping your composure, lady, but maybe give the guy his property back? You were pretty agile but- Huh, ok then. Paninya is quite a bit more agile than I was expecting, she’s dodging Ed’s Stone Hands with ease and practically laughing about all it. Oh, but she just ran into Al, who’s caught her in a TC. Pickpocket, meet Birdcage. Now that she’s caught, Ed demands his wa- hello! Paninya just sliced the cage open with… ooh! Paninya: “Come on, you can’t be too surprised. You’ve seen the town, haven’t you?” Pickpocket’s got robo-legs! Right leg’s got a blade… and Lefty’s got a cannon, a freaking one point five inch cannon. That’s some serious firepower! How does a pickpocket have this level of armament? With the Elrics recovering from the blast, Paninya’s off again… only to get grabbed by Winry. Who’s not letting her go until she gets to see the automail. Yep, pickpocket’s not going anywhere. Then a couple looks out of a house they’ve ended up at, recognize Paninya and ask if she’s got some friends over. Going out on a limb here and guessing Paninya’s adopted by these folks. Inside, Winry is geeking out over Paninya’s legs to the point of creepiness, no way Ed’s getting anything about his stolen watch until this blows over. Winry compliments Dominic on the craftsmanship… but he didn’t make them? Ah, so Glasses-Guy is not-Dominic (apprentice? son?), Dominic is a gravely-voiced old man. Who might be the one related to Paninya? Going out on a limb here. Now Dominic’s giving Ed an examination? When did we get to this? Anyways Dominic’s critiquing the work, saying it’s a bit heavy. And might have stunted Ed’s growth? Cue mental image of freakishly-tall Ed. While he’s lost in flights of fancy, Winry begs Dominic to become his apprentice. Uh, don’t you have a business to run with your grandmother? Moot point anyway, Dominic shuts her down instantly. Not the most personable of people, is he?

And confirmation that Glasses-Boy (still don’t have a name yet) is Dominic Jr. Still reeling from being called little by the old man, Ed is getting dragged down a hallway by Al when they run across Mrs. Dominic Jr., who is quite pregnant. This is followed by a sweet scene where she lets the Elrics touch her tummy, Ed feeling the baby’s heartbeat. A sweet scene… but Mrs. DJ winces? Is she ok? Winry and Paninya are chatting now, the pickpocket rubbing her rain-aggravated stumps. Storytime? I’ve noted that she’s wearing camo, betting there’s military in her background. Or not, it was a train accident that took both her parents and her legs. Couldn’t walk, nowhere to go… and then she met Mr. Dominic. *Flashback of homeless Young Paninya in an alley* *slightly Younger Dominic walks by, sees her* [Younger Dominic]: “You look like the most miserable, pathetic girl in the entire world. Nothing annoys me more than mopers like you.” And then he just picks her up and carries her home. Gotta admit, I don’t think this particular adoption story is going to win any charity awards. [Paninya]: “So, without anyone ever asking my opinion, I was outfitted with automail legs.” What seriously? Dominic, ease off with the tough love there buddy. But after surgery and rehabilitation, Paninya was up and walking again. So now she’s sworn to pay him back, regardless of the fact that he refuses any money. Maybe it’s because you keep stealing it? Winry has the same complaint that I did, chiding her for using Dominic’s gift to steal rather than work honestly. Paninya… agrees rather suspiciously quickly. I don’t wanna come across as paranoid, but you might check your pockets there Winry. Oh right, you’re a girl, so your clothes don’t have any pockets. My bad. But if Paninya’s really being honest, she’s going to start by giving Ed his watch back. A quick check to make sure it’s alright- but it’s not opening? Winry says it’s sealed by Alchemy, and she can guess why: Something’s inside that he’s embarrassed to let anyone see! Time to break out the tools! Some lockpicking later, and it’s open. But all that’s inside is a scratched note: “Don’t forget. October 3rd ‘11” Ah. Based on how quiet Winry just got I’m guessing it’s the date of either their Mom’s death, or the failed Human Transmutation. Winry gives it back to Paninya to return, and declares that she’s going to ask Dominic again to be his apprentice. Winry’s knocking on a door when Ed rushes up in a panic, babbling. Three guesses what’s got him so riled up, and the first two don’t count. [Panicked!Ed]: “The baby’s coming! The baby’s coming!” Thunder and Lightning as Dominic dons a raincoat, they can’t get her to town in the weather so he’s going to fetch the doctor. Mrs. DJ’s in bed with [Ridel] (finally got his name!) beside her, asking her to hold on. [Satera] (finally got her name too!) deadpans that there’s no holding on in this case. Cue Mass Bystander Panic as the baby decides it’s tired of waiting, it’s on the way now.

All the guys are predictably useless in their panic until Winry steps up saying that they’ll do it. Ed darling, stop being clueless, what do you think Winry is talking about other than delivering the baby? Of course no-one’s got any experience or knowledge about this, so they’ll all have to work together. Elrics are off to get boiling water, Paninya to get towels, and Ridel to get disinfectant. Ridel asks the Elrics if Winry can do this, he says that she came from a family of doctors and grew up reading medical textbooks. Ok, so they’ve got some knowledge, like Ridel says it’s not quite a medical degree but there’s some groundwork here. In the room Winry’s going over the list. And unfortunately there’s something else, but she can’t remember it. Ed and Al are left standing outside the room after Paninya’s called in to help, Ed bemoans that when it really counts he can’t do anything. Then they’re sent [*Cowering*] behind some chairs as Satera starts yelling. Don’t suppose there are any painkillers in this setting? Now Ed remarks that sure, the Brothers aren’t big believers in God, but maybe he could help them this once? Sorry boys, I don’t think Leto’s feeling too charitable to you right now. Suddenly the door bursts open, Paninya comes out mumbling about the blood. Oh. Oh no. Please don’t. Ed rushes in to see Winry looking shocked. She points To the small squalling infant in Satera’s arms oh my LETO show don’t scare me like that! Ed gushes about how awesome this all is, how they’re witnessing something that Alchemists have failed to accomplish for centuries (Al swaying around in the background as the baby is cleaned is adorable). Winry chides him for lumping the miracle of birth in with alchemy, Ed defends that it’s just how he thinks as an Alchemist. [Ed]: “Besides, whatever you say, it really is awesome. People are awesome.” Aw, that’s sweet. Now, if Ed could help Winry up? She kinda can’t stand right now. A beautiful shipping moment as Ed is giving Winry a piggyback ride to the chairs in the hallway, them snarking at each other all the while. Daw. But then Winry says she saw it. Uh oh. Winry just admitted to seeing the inside of the watch, Ed just dropped her. Quietly asks that she forced it open. Well yeah, I can understand Ed being angry about this. And Winry knows she did wrong, apologizes. Ed sighs and helps her back up, they take their seats. [Ed]: “I haven’t shown that to anybody. Not even Al.” He says it’s private, an admonition to himself. He carries it as a reminder. Really, Ed? You have to ask why Winry is crying right now? It’s because she cares about you, dolt. Flashback to the Elrics burning down their house, so there’s no turning back (y’know, besides living with the Rockbell’s. Also, in the burning house there was a family picture with a noticeable absence. Where the heck are you, Papa Elric?) And even back then Winry cried, and Clueless Ed had to ask why she was doing that. [Winry]: “You two won’t cry. Someone else should do it for you, don’t you think?” [Ed]: “Don’t be an idiot.” Winry reaffirms that she’s not leaving. How can she, when her skills aren’t up to her satisfaction? She’ll keep learning, to make Ed the best automail she can so he’s as strong as he can be. Once more, she’ll ask Dominic to be his apprentice. Oh hey Paninya! By the way… WATCH! NOW! Dominic’s back! And wow, [Mushy] is the only way to describe how his personality’s gone 180 and he’s fawning over his new grandkid. Up until he scowls at the Elrics for commenting on that. Hey. Hey Winry. You’ve got some major brownie points with the old man right now. Go ahead and ask to be his apprentice. But apparently “one has nothing to do with the other”. He flat-out won’t take an apprentice. Buuuuuut he will recommend her to an accomplished engineer further down the mountain (methinks a recommendation from the guy NPCs in a town devoted to automail called skilled will go a long way). And he’s not going to stop Winry from coming once in a while, to “see my grandchild”. I think Paninya has picked up on Dominic’s oh-so-subtle approval. Now back at the train station, Ed and Al are hurrying to catch it and run by a couple of wanted posters (hi Scar!). Don’t want to miss the only train for three days! Winry, call your Granny! And learn stuff to make even cooler automail next time Ed sees you! And with that, they’re gone. But Winry knows that they’ll be back.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 11

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jae-in-a-trenchcoat · 5 years

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IT fic exchange

Here’s my fic for @notafightr who did an amazing fic for me! It was so good I feel bad giving them this piece of garbage

No warnings

Richie was never one for being able to express his feelings. It didn't matter if it was how he was feeling about a situation or how he felt about a person, it was just so hard for Richie to let people know how he was really feeling. Weirdly it didn't come from the environment he grew up in, it developed from Richie as a kid wanting his friends to see him as a tough man (even though he was only 7 when this began). Richie bottling up his feelings led to him being unable to read the mood of a situation and making stupid jokes basically 24/7. So when he started to grow up and find himself developing a crush on his best friend Eddie Kaspbrak, life became more complicated for Richie. What made it worse is that at the ripe old age of 16, while Richie waited for Maggie (his mom) to pick him up, Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was standing next to him asking a question never expected to come out of the smaller boy's mouth.

"Will you be my fake boyfriend?" Eddie asked out of the blue on this slightly cold day. Richie, who was leaning against the bike rack, felt his hand slip off the metal pole and he nearly fell face first on the ground. Luckily he was able to catch himself before letting that end in disaster. Eddie tried to stifle back his laughter as the taller boy tried to recover.

"I'm sorry what?" Richie choked out. Eddie bit his lip.

"Will you be my fake boyfriend," he repeated, softer than the first time. Even after saying it twice, Richie was unable to comprehend what Eddie was saying. His crush, his love of his life, was asking him to fake date him? Richie didn't need to ask why. It was to make Eddie's crush jealous. His name was Jake: he had the brightest green eyes that were hard not to get lost in, auburn hair, he was apart of the debate team and he was WAY too nice. Richie knew he could never compete and, even though it kinda hurt him, he just let Eddie try and go after Jake.

"Eds I don't know that seems more stupid than your mom," Richie snorted. Eddie stared at him with with his big adorable eyes.

"I'm being serious ‘Chee," Eddie said. "I-I wanna do this." He took both of Richie's hands into his. Richie felt his cheeks heat up. He could barely feel his body . This was a hard decision to make but it didn't look like Eddie was gonna give him time to decide. Richie would never admit that this would hurt him, even if he wanted to it would come out as jumbled and not clear.

If I do this I'd be able to spend more time with him though. He pulled his own hands away from Eddie's.

"I guess I could, but don't go developing feelings for me spaghetti man." Eddie let out a little laugh.

"Keep holding your breath trashmouth." The two shared a chuckle before Richie noticed his mom's car pulling up.

"Gotta go Eds, see ya tomorrow!" He exclaimed with a salute, before starting to move towards his mom's car. RIchie swung open the car door open and climbed into the passenger seat, accidentally knocking Maggie's coffee out of the cup holder in the process.

"C'mon Richard you've got to stop knocking over my coffee whenever you get into the car," she sighed.

"Sorry ma." Maggie shook her head with a smile. As Richie turned around to sit properly into the seat, he caught a glimpse of Eddie biting his lip but thought that he was just trying to stop himself from yelling 'Don't call me Eds!"

Bev tugged at the elastic band around her wrist, fuming.

"Son of a bitch," Bev muttered under her breath as she aggressively picked up the fake money and basically threw it across the coffee table. Opposite her was Stan who couldn't help but let a smirk form on his lips.

"Well sorry for properly investing my money instead of just buying random shit," he said with some sass. She rolled her eyes, annoyed with Stan's smart ass.

"It's monopoly Stan, not real life," she snapped back. Grabbing the dice Bev got ready to roll, until the front door flew open with so much force it could've come off its hinges. Richie stood there panting and out of breath.

"Guys, guys I've got a massive problem," he managed to get out between heavy breaths. The dice took a detour and rolled off the table and under the couch. Bev turned and gave Richie a death glare.

"Whatever it is, it better be fucking important," she growled. Richie averted his gaze to Stan, mouthing a 'what is going on with her?'. He mouthed back 'monopoly' before looking back at an angry Bev. Richie understood completely, it was basically what happened every Friday. The three went to Bev's aunt's house every Friday after school and played some board game lying around, Richie always got dropped off late and (almost) always walked into Stan whooping Bev at the board game chosen and Bev being a sore loser. Today though, he didn't feel like playing Monopoly. All he wanted to do was (try to) let out everything he was feeling about this whole 'fake dating situation', not play some stupid board game. Richie flopped onto the armchair dramatically with a loud sigh, his long legs dangling over the arm of the chair

"Well Richard what is so important you had to interrupt our game?" Stan asked. Richie adjusted himself so that he was sitting upright, though he found the other position much more comfortable.

“Well here it is Stan the man,” Richie began. As he explained his dilemma, the two listened carefully. Richie found he was the most comfortable telling Stan and Beverly his problems no matter how uneasy his insides felt. They were a trio that helped each other out. The three musketeers Richie would call the trio, even if Stan hated it with every bone in his body.

“Well how do you feel about the situation?” Stan asked. Richie opened his mouth to speak, then quickly snapping it shut. He tried finding the right words to say, any words at that point, but his mind was as blank as his page while writing an essay. C’mon it isn’t that hard Richie, for fucks sake say something! Nothing came out except a long stuttered mess of a sentence. Bev gestured for the raven haired boy to scoot over as best he could. As he did, she squeezed into the tight space and swung an arm around Richie’s shoulders. He turned his head so that he could see Bev’s much softer expression.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, we know how hard it is for you to talk about this sort of stuff,” Bev reassured. She then turned her head to face Stan. “Don’t we Stanley?” Stan threw his hands up in defence.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were my mother.” Richie watched as they bickered back and forth and let out an inaudible sigh of relief. It gave him the comfort of knowing that there was at least something was still normal and not messed up. Richie pushed himself off the armchair, causing Bev to fall to her side.

“Red, Stan the man, please save that for the ring,” he said with a presenter voice. Bev rolled her eyes at the stupid nickname.

“Shut up Richie,” Stan groaned. Richie snickered at their reactions. He knew he’d have to enjoy today because he had a feeling that after today, everything was going to be different and it would never go back to being the same. Ever. He helped Bev get the dice from under the couch with his long, lanky arms and sat down around the coffee table, deciding to let his two friends finish their game before joining in. The game didn’t last very long, Bev went bankrupt in 10 minutes and, although Stan just sat there with a small smirk, it was clear to Richie that he was enjoying his win against Bev very much. He had known Stan for so long and knew how to read basically every facial expression of his. Bev angrily cleaned the board so that they could play another game. As the new game progressed, Richie felt his heart slowly sink to the bottom of his chest.

This is it, this is my last day before my world turns to hell.

Derry High’s hallway bustled with teenagers as they all tried to get from one place to another, either to their locker, friends or next class. Richie used all his might his lanky body had to push through the crowd.

“ Please, ‘scuse me, coming through trynna find my Eddie spaghetti!” Richie shouted over the noise. People gave him looks of confusion and but he didn’t care. He finally saw the short, adorable boy leaning against his locker, foot impatiently tapping against the floor. Richie’s breath hitched. He was wearing a pale blue sweater that was definitely a bit large and those damn red shorts. Richie shook away his feelings before putting on a goofy smile and striding towards Eddie.

“Heyo Spaghetti-o,” Richie leaned against the locker next to Eddie. The smaller boy let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Thank fuck! I thought you weren’t gonna show,” Eddie punched Richie’s arm harshly. Not enough that it would bruise but enough for it to hurt. He rubbed his arm and gave Eddie a fake pout.

“Of course I would, you didn’t have to punch me so hard for being-,” He quickly checked his watch. “2 minutes late.” Eddie lowered his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. It was as if something punched Richie in the heart. Something about seeing Eddie look so vulnerable did something that, really, no one else could do. Make him feel like his world had been shattered into a million piece. He gently grabbed Eddie’s chin with his forefinger and thumb and lifted it gently. Looking into his deep brown eyes made it hard to focus on anything else going on around him. He could tell that Eddie felt the same way, except Richie brushed it off as Eddie trying to make their relationship believable. Both their breathing started to become like small pants.

“No need to apologise,” Richie breathed. In the corner of his eye, he saw Jake staring curiously at them. Richie took this as a perfect opportunity to make a move and help Eddie achieve his goal. He swiftly pecked Eddie’s surprisingly soft lips. His body tingled with warmth. The feeling was hard to describe but Richie knew it was a good one. Eddie stared at Richie with wide eyes and red cheeks, redder than Richie had ever seen them before. For a second he thought he had made a mistake from the look on the shorter one’s face.

“I-I’m so sorry Eds I just saw Jake and-,” he was cut off when he was pulled into a much deeper kiss. Richie’s hands snaked around Eddie’s waist and he pulled him closer. Neither of them cared that there was a crowd, neither of them really realised there was a crowd. Richie didn’t want the moment to end. Unfortunately he had to pull away for air. His eyes darted up and down Eddie’s body, which was shaking slightly from adrenaline. The crowd of students stood there for a second staring before quickly dispersed and revealing the rest of the losers standing there.

“So, you two finally got together?” Mike asked.

I guess Eddie didn’t tell the others we were fake dating

He looked at his ‘boyfriend’ to see if Eddie wanted to say anything. He vigorously shook his head no. Richie was a little hurt that he didn’t want to tell their closest friends but he wasn’t going to show that.

“Right you are Mike-o,” Richie nodded. After a bunch of congratulations and a few pats on the back (mostly from Mike), Bev sent Richie a look. It was a look of ‘don’t fuck this up or everything will be ruined.’ Richie nodded his head slightly so that only she could see. He turned around to ask Eddie a question but he was gone. He glanced around and caught him talking, more like laughing, with Jake. Richie knew this was fake, knew he shouldn’t fall for Eddie more, but seeing him with the person that started this really crushed him. Something washed over Richie that caused his brain to basically shut down. Without realising he was already behind Eddie, arms wrapped around his waist and head nuzzled into his neck. Jake ran a hair through his hair and smiled.

“Sorry didn’t mean to take you away from your boyfriend,” Jake chuckled. “I’ll see you around Eds.” The aurburn walked off down the hallway, leaving the two.

“Bye Jake!” Eddie called out, giving a little wave. Jake turned around with a charming smile and a wave too. He let out a love filled sigh, then escaped Richie’s grasp and looked at him with rage in his eyes.

“‘Chee I was making progress!” he groaned.

“Sorry it’s just-,”

“Just what? What Chee?”

“I wanted to make our relationship believable.” Richie would’ve confessed his love for Eddie right there but he bit his tongue and held back.

“Well thanks I guess,” Eddie sighed. “I gotta get to class.” He stood on his tippy toes and kissed Richie on the cheek. Walking off, Richie was stuck there alone. He knew he’d fucked up. Literally doing the opposite that Bev ‘told’ him not to do.

2 months had passed and Richie couldn’t be more crushed inside. It was like the universe was teasing him. Every passing day spent with Eddie was torture. They were growing closer as friends, Eddie would say. They held hands everywhere they went, small little kisses, passionate ones too. while they were out in public and the smaller boy started sitting in the taller boy’s lap either at lunch or when they went to the diner. He hadn’t told anyone, but he was falling for Eddie harder than if he were to fall off a building. Jake had started warming up to Eddie though and Richie knew that their fake relationship would be ending soon, as the brunette had planned how they were gonna break up. Yet he didn’t want that to come. He couldn’t tell anyone what he was feeling, either he’d mess up his words or everyone would tell him that he shouldn’t have agreed if he knew he liked Eddie. Eddie eventually told the rest of the losers, a little angry that Richie didn’t tell him that Stan and Bev already knew but all anger washed away when he gave Eddie an apology kiss. Richie had woken up that day with a knot in his stomach. He had almost forgotten about the losers sleeping over that night, that is until he rolled out of bed and accidentally stepped on Stan’s hair. His shriek woke up all the other losers. The knot in his stomach quickly disappeared. Richie noticed that neither Bill nor Eddie were in the room.

“Where’s Big Bill and Eds?” Richie questioned. Stan sat up, rubbing his scalp to try and stop the stinging.

“I thought my boyfriend told you to stop calling him Big Bill.” Stan grunted. Richie shrugged with a smirk.

“I think they went to the kitchen,” Ben said groggily, pulling Bev a little closer to his chest in the sleeping bag.

“Thanks haystack!” Richie did some finger guns before making his way out his bedroom door. He let his legs take in control as he descended down the stairs, the sick feeling slowly coming back to him. Richie heard soft voices coming from the kitchen and immediately recognised them as Bill and Eddie’s. As he approached the kitchen door, he stopped right in his tracks when he heard Eddie say something never thought possible.

“I think I actually like him.” It was muffled but Richie heard it loud and clear. As quiet as possible, he scurried to the door and held his ear to it.

“T-t-trashmouth?”

“No Bill, another Richie. Yes Trashmouth!”

“W-w-what about J-J-Jake?” He heard the clink of a mug hitting the bench.

“I guess I didn’t really like Jake. You know I had a crush on Richie in 7th grade and spending all that time with him I realised that I still like him.” There was a brief silence. “Scratch that, I love him.” Richie’s body nearly turned to jelly.

Eddie just said he loves me.

The door started to creak open slowly and by the time he realised, it was too late. He fell onto the floor face first. He groaned both in pain and embarrassment. Eddie squealed.

“Chee! What are you doing here? How much did you hear? Are you okay?” Eddie asked in a panic. Bill leapt off the counter and quickly rushed to his side to help him up, Eddie staying on the counter. Richie stoop up and dusted off the non existent dirt on him.

“I’m fine,” Richie reassured. “Just a little tumble was all.” Richie took a couple of steps forward so that he was next to the island bench. No one in the room dared to make a sound, it’s as if someone who made a noise would ruin the moment. Richie took more steps forward until he was in front of Eddie. He stood there for a second, just taking in the way the brunette looked so cute just sitting on the bench. Richie felt his heart beat faster at the sight. He leaned in and smashed their lips together. Eddie immediately leaned into the kiss, enjoying how this kiss really meant something and it wasn’t just for show. Richie pulled away painfully slow.

“I’m guessing you heard a lot,” Eddie said sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Look, I’m not good at-at feelings basically so this is hard for me to say. I love you, I have ever since we met in grade school. I guess I never had the courage to tell you how I was really feeling and I regretted it so much because knowing you liked someone who wasn’t me, well it really hurt. Just the thought of losing you to Jake even if we weren’t together, made me get all weird and caused a lot of mixed emotions. I guess what I’m trying to say is I wanna be with you, I wanna be your actual boyfriend. Only if you wanna-.”

“Shut up trashmouth.” Eddie pulled Richie into another kiss, giving him the answer he wanted. Their lips stayed connected until Bill cleared his throat.

“G-get a room,” Bill laughed. Richie chuckled before pulling his now real boyfriend in for another kiss.

Not how I expected to start my morning. Definitely much better though.

Sorry that I didn’t do a better job but I hope you like it 🙂

#it 2017 #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stenbrough #stanley uris #bill denbrough #benverly #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #original character #losers club #it 2019 #fic exchange #it chapter 2

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write-havoc · 5 years

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Of Sons and Daughters Ch 11

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Several days pass as the gang comes to terms with Micah’s betrayal to them. With what Charles had told them about what he had seen, it’s evident that after Micah’s plan to get Dutch out in the open to meet with Colm had failed, he went out to that train station to telegraph Milton. Once the agents arrived, Micah must’ve told them Dutch didn’t take the bait. Milton’s impatience apparently had gotten the better of him because he then decided to just raid the camp instead of going about contriving another plan to get Dutch away from everyone to arrest him.

During these days, Emmeline settles in more. She tries her best to do jobs around the camp at Shady Belle. Laundry, mending clothes, washing up, none of it is really new to her, anyway. Once the sun goes down, she starts to help Lenny in his pursuit to teach Sean how to read. The Irishman seems more inclined to listen to Emmeline than Lenny, so he actually makes progress.

“The... dog... j-j-“ he reads along as he points to the words on the page with his finger.

“Sound it out,” Emmeline says in support.

“J-um-p-ed. Jumped!” he calls out excitedly. “That fucker jumped !”

Emmeline and Lenny both laugh at his reaction.

“You’re doing good,” she comments. “See, you’re getting it down. You’ll be reading novels in no time.”

Karen, who is close by, decides to see what all the hubbub is about. “Who jumped?” she asks as she comes to stand by Sean.

He points to the illustration of the little puppy in the book that Lenny had borrowed from Jack. “The dog!” He follows the words with his finger again as he reads. “The dog jumped!”

“You can join us, Karen,” Lenny mentions. “If Sean can learn, you surely can, too.”

She thinks it over a minute. “If I learn to read, Mary Beth will be shoving those stories she writes in my face all the time askin’ if they’re any good.” She moves to sit down next to Sean. “But I guess I ain’t got nothin’ better to do right now.”

Soon enough, Abigail and Jack join in on the lessons, though Hosea has to be recruited to help out with the teaching. It helps to keep spirits high in this time of uncertainty. Arthur often sits next to Emmeline as she continues to help, though most of the time he’s sketching in his journal instead of helping out.

“Who taught you to read, Emmeline?” Abigail asks one of the days they’re all sitting around the fire.

“Both my parents loved books,” she answers. “They didn’t send me off to school, but they both taught me all they knew. Taught me to read and write. How to add numbers. Even had me read some history books, too. They wasn’t really educated, but they did their best.”

“Well you’re loads smarter than Arthur, here,” Sean calls out at Arthur’s expense. “How’d you manage to convince a sweet girl like that to be with you.”

Before Arthur can respond, Emmeline steps in to defend him. “He didn’t have to convince me. Arthur is sweet and kind. And he ain’t dumb. He’s taught me a lot.” She looks over to Arthur and smiles.

“Ain’t that sweet!” Sean razzes him further.

Karen slaps the back of the Irishman’s head. “He’s a better man than you, Sean.”

“Aw, you love me. Give us a kiss.” He leans into Karen, his lips puckered.

“I don’t love you, you pig!” Karen calls out, but everyone knows she’s not serious.

About a week after they had moved into Shady Belle, Arthur finds Dutch standing at the back of the property looking over the swamp.

“Whatcha doin’, Dutch?” he calls out as he approaches.

The older man doesn’t even turn around, though he does answer. “Watching the alligators,” he says with very little emotion in his voice.

Once Arthur comes to stand next to Dutch, he can see blood in the water and an alligator moving around underneath it. “They fighting or something?”

“I watched a boar walk over to the edge of the water,” Dutch starts, eyes still fixed on the swamp. “I watched as one of those gators silently swam up to it, the boar none the wiser. Only took but a few seconds and that gator had that boar in its mouth, dragging it in the water as its meal.”

“Shit,” is all Arthur can think to say.

Dutch lets out a sigh. “All this time, I thought I was the alligator. Turns out I’m the boar.”

Arthur could tell that Dutch hadn’t been taking Micah’s betrayal very well. He had shut himself in his room, barely talking to anybody, which isn’t normal for him. This is actually the first time Arthur had spoken to him in days.

“Now come on, Dutch,” Arthur replies gently. “You ain’t no boar. You’re a man. And men make mistakes on occasion. I know that more ‘n anyone.”

“I’ve been thinking about... him ,” Dutch says, refusing to use Micah’s name. “About everything he’s done. Everything he’s said.” He lets out a heavy breath and casts his gaze to the ground in front of him. “He played me, Arthur. Like a fiddle. Told me everything I wanted to hear. Then he tried to get me to turn on you.” He finally looks over to the younger man. “And John. And Hosea. I nearly fell for it.”

“But ya didn’t.”

“But I nearly did. And everything I’ve been working for would’ve been lost .” He lets out a sigh. “I’ve just been trying so hard ,” he brings his hands up and clenches them into fists in front of him, “to hold onto everything. To keep everyone together. Not to fall into the trap of this...” he waves his hands around, “ civilization .”

“I know, Dutch. We’re still here. We’re still with you.”

Dutch turns his body to face Arthur and places his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “But for how long?” He doesn’t stay to get a response, instead, walking past him toward the house.

Just a little while later as almost everyone is eating their supper, Sean calls out, “Hey, English!” in Arthur’s direction. Bill is walking next to him, which can mean nothing good, most likely.

Arthur lets out a sigh, causing Emmeline to chuckle beside him. “Yes, Sean?” he replies, already exasperated.

“Me and Bill was ‘avin a drink at some saloon in San Denis when we hear these two blokes talkin’ about some train that’s s’pose ta be carryin’ a lot of gold. Apparently they gonna be movin’ money outta the bank fer some reason.”

“And...?” Arthur says after a pause.

Bill jumps in. “We rob it!”

Arthur just shakes his head. “I don’t think we should be doin’ nothin’ like that right now. All the heat that’s been on us... we need to lie low.”

“Don’t we need the money, though? To get to Tahiti?” Sean asks, parroting Dutch’s words.

“Right now we gotta focus on not getting nabbed by them Pinkertons,” Arthur explains. “Micah don’t know where we went to, but I’m bettin’ he’s told them agents that we’d head further east once they ran us outta Clemens Point. If we do something big, they’ll know it’s us and it’ll only be a matter of time before they find this place.” Arthur scratches at his beard as he thinks it over. “We need to do shit much more quiet than we have been. No train robberies. No banks or stagecoaches. Nothin’ like that. We send the women into the city to pickpocket some rich folk. Javier and whoever else can rob homesteads as long as it’s quiet. Me and Charles can hunt and sell the pelts. It won’t get us a heap load of money, but it’ll make us enough to keep surviving. For now, anyways.”

Since Dutch is continuing to lock himself away most of the time, there’s no one else giving the gang orders but Arthur and Hosea. They are both in agreement that the gang needs to lower their profile for the time being. Especially until Dutch gets back to his old self. Arthur hopes he’ll come out of it, sooner rather than later.

During this time, Emmeline and Arthur try to figure out what it means to be in a relationship together. She, of course, has no experiences of her own to draw off of. Arthur isn’t much better, though, only having one serious relationship in his life. There are some awkward moments, usually coming in the form of Arthur being teased every time someone catches him even so much as looking at Emmeline. She shrugs it off, but Arthur usually has to try to hide his blushing cheeks.

While he’s never been very comfortable with public displays of affection, he makes up for it in the privacy of their own room. He’s tentative for the first few nights, but with Emmeline’s assurance that she is fine with his advances, he gets more comfortable with her physically. Before too long, he comes to crave the intimacy that she provides. He had long since accepted that he would never have another woman in his life, but then Emmeline showed up and awakened parts of him that had been dormant.

One morning, Arthur and Emmeline are cuddled up together in the small bed in their second floor room. Arthur has been working hard lately, so he decides to sleep in a little today. As for Emmeline, her pregnancy has continued to take the energy out of her, so some extra time in bed doesn’t bother her any.

“You awake, Emma?” he whispers when she stirs a little from her position lying on his chest.

“Yeah,” she answers sleepily without lifting her head. “But I’m still tired. I might just fall back asleep.”

He kisses her crown. “Go on ahead. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Just a few minutes after she tries to fall back asleep, she’s overcome with a wave of nausea. Thankful that she decided to put her nightgown back on last night after she and Arthur were done with their “activities,” she runs out of their room to try to make it outside before the contents of her stomach could come up. Unfortunately, she just barely makes it out into the hallway before she starts to heave.

Abigail can hear the commotion from her room just a few feet away. She leaves Jack, still sleeping soundly, to see what’s going on. “Are you alright?” she asks Emmeline when she sees the mess at her feet.

Emmeline clears her throat and wipes her mouth. “I’m fine,” she says as she looks up to the other woman, unsure what else to say.

Arthur comes out of the room, having hastily put on his pants to cover himself. He shares a look with Abigail before he gently lays a hand on Emmeline’s back. “Why don’t you go back in and lay down,” he says to her. “I’ll clean this up.”

Abigail’s face suddenly lights up as she calls out, “You’re pregnant! I knew it!” She had her suspicions, but the fact that Emmeline had gotten sick and Arthur isn’t at all worried about it confirms what she had thought.

Both Arthur and Emmeline snap their heads to look at the other woman.

“Keep it down,” Arthur growls out.

Abigail lets out a scoff. “Ain’t nobody up here but Jack. And he could sleep through the end of the world. Even Dutch and Molly are out, for once.” She starts to vibrate with excitement despite Arthur glaring at her. “But it’s true, right?”

Emmeline smiles gently as she nods slightly. There’s no use in lying at this point.

Abigail can’t hold back the squeal of happiness as it leaves her mouth. The thought of having another child in the camp for Jack to play with swirls in her mind.

“Shh!” Arthur pats the air to try to calm her. “You can’t tell nobody, Abigail. Especially not the rest of the girls.”

“I wont.”

“Abigail?” John’s raspy voice rings out from the steps. “You alright up there? I heard you yell.” He starts to come up the stairs before she even answers.

Abigail runs over to meet her husband on the landing. “Emmeline’s with child!” she tells him immediately.

Arthur throws up his hands and rolls his eyes. “Abigail! I just told you not to tell no one!”

“John doesn’t count,” she replies as she leads John over to where the group stands.

“Is that sick?” he points to the pile a few feet away.

Abigail swats him on the chest. “Don’t worry about that! You’re gonna be an uncle!”

“Don’t tell nobody else,” Arthur asserts. “I mean it. Both of you.”

“Alright, alright.” Abigail turns to leave. “I’ll get a bucket to clean up that mess. Then we’re gonna talk all about this.”

John shakes his head and claps Arthur on the shoulder. “Looks like we’re more alike than I thought.”

Emmeline scrunches up her face in confusion at his comment. “What?”

“I knocked Abigail up with Jack on accident, too.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Shut up, Marston.”

She looks over to Arthur for a moment before turning back to John. “But you were happy, right?”

“Little Johnny Marston ran away. Like an idiot,” Arthur answers for him. “I won’t never do that.”

“I came back,” John defends himself.

“It only took four years for you to get your shit together to be somewhat of a father to the boy,” Arthur bites back sarcastically. He had always looked down at John for his decision to leave instead of accepting his role as a father. Now that he’s put himself in the same position with regards to an unexpected pregnancy, he’s focused on not repeating the younger man’s mistake.

Abigail reappears carrying a bucket and some rags. “Stop fighting, you two. You should be celebrating.”

“We ain’t ready to tell everyone just yet,” Emmeline comments. “So I think we’ll have to wait for any parties.”

“It’s your news to tell. But the second you do it, there’s certainly going to be a party.” Abigail bends down to start to clean the floor. “I suggest you nibble on some biscuits to settle your stomach, though. If you start getting sick all the time, people are gonna get curious and ask questions.”

Early one morning, Emmeline takes Abigail up on her advice. Once her stomach starts to roil, she sneaks out of bed quietly enough not to wake Arthur to head down to Pearson’s wagon in search for biscuits. The sun isn’t even up yet, so it takes her a few minutes in the dark to locate the small tin on the table.

After eating a few of the biscuits, she decides to head over to where Miss Susie is hitched at the edge of camp to visit with her for a moment.

“How ya doin’, girl?” she asks as she pats the horse on the neck.

Upon hearing a rustling behind her, she flips around just in time to see Kieran exiting his tent not far away from her.

“Miss Emmeline?” he croaks out, his voice still tinged with sleep.

“I’m sorry, Kieran. I didn’t mean to wake you. I honestly forgot your tent was over here.”

“That’s okay.” He moves to the other side of Miss Susie, petting her on the nose. “It ain’t too much before I’d get up anyway.”

“I need to thank you for taking such good care of her,” she says as she continues to stroke the horse’s coat. “I haven’t gotten the chance to take her out much lately.”

“She’s a real good horse. Very friendly. I must admit that she’s my favorite to ride out of all of them.”

She smiles. “Really?”

“Most of the other horses only accept one rider in the saddle. Miss Susie here don’t mind me taking her out at all.” He pats her neck. “I’ll get her a couple of carrots for a treat.”

He starts to move further away to where he keeps his supplies while Emmeline continues to pet her horse. Suddenly, there’s a scuffle and when she turns to look, she sees a man in a green vest grappling with Kieran, trying to pull him off into the woods.

“No!” she screams at the top of her lungs and instinctively runs toward the man that she realizes must be an O’Driscoll with what Arthur has told her about them. She doesn’t have any weapons on her and she’s only in her nightgown, but she doesn’t let that stop her from trying to help Kieran. Jumping on the O’Driscoll’s back, she forces one arm around his neck and tries to pull him away.

Unbeknownst to her, the O’Driscoll hadn’t arrived alone. His partner roughly grabs her by the shoulders and throws her off the first man and onto the ground hard. She’s stunned for a moment, but once a gunshot rings out, she comes to just in time to see the man on Kieran crumble to the ground.

With the O’Driscoll’s plan well and truly bungled by the surprise appearance of the raven haired woman, the remaining man can only think about making it out alive. He quickly pulls the woman in front of him up by the hair and holds her to his chest, using her as a shield.

“One move and she gets it,” he calls out to Bill, first and foremost, since he’s the only one close by with a gun. That’s not going to last for much longer, though. He can hear everyone else in the camp stirring at the noise. And with the sun starting to bathe the landscape with light, he no longer has the cover of darkness on his side.

“Let her go,” Kieran pleads.

The O’Driscoll knows he has to make a run for it now before he has more guns trained on him. He figures that the only chance he’ll get is if he kills the girl, catching them off guard enough to make his escape. He cocks his gun then a shot rings out.

Meanwhile, Arthur is pulled from sleep by the sound of Emmeline screaming “No!” It’s faint, but it’s like his mind is attuned to her voice. Without much thought, he grabs his gun belt and runs out of his room in only his union suit. As he’s running down the stairs, he’s bucking his belt around his hips and drawing his Schofield, ready for a fight. The sun is just barely up, but there’s enough light that he can see a man on the edge of camp holding Emmeline to his chest. Their right sides are facing Arthur so he gets a good look at the gun the O’Driscoll is holding to her head.

Arthur runs full bore at them. Without slowing even a little bit, he readies his gun to shoot the man behind Emmeline. Despite everything going on around Arthur, he somehow sees the small movement of the man’s thumb pulling back the hammer on his gun. Time seems to slow as Arthur lines up his shot to the side of the man’s head before he can fire his gun. Arthur wastes no time in pulling his own trigger, sending a bullet straight into the O’Driscoll’s temple, dropping him.

Emmeline thinks she’s been shot for a moment. She waits for the pain to radiate through her, but it doesn’t come. The only feeling she gets is the cool morning air rushing over her back, signaling that the man that had been holding her isn’t behind her anymore. Before she can turn to see what had happened to him, Arthur rushes over and turns her back to him.

“Don’t look, sweetheart,” he says hurriedly.

Bill’s voice calls out, “We got more bastards coming!”

Without a thought, Arthur picks Emmeline up, cradling her to his chest and runs back to the house. Gunshots start to ring out as he gets closer to the front doors. Before he can open them himself, Dutch bursts through them, both of his guns in his hands.

“Get her in here with the women!” he calls out to Arthur then starts shooting from the porch.

Arthur deposits her just inside. “Run upstairs to Abigail.” He places a kiss on her forehead then turns to go back outside.

Emmeline does as instructed and rushes up to the Marston’s room. She finds Abigail cradling a crying Jack to her chest on the bed.

“Get in here!” Abigail holds her free arm out to Emmeline and she huddled up next to the woman.

Though they’re about the same age, Emmeline allows Abigail to hold her as if she were her mother. She wraps one arm around Abigail’s back and places the other around Jack as an added layer of protection for him.

Outside, the firefight is intense. Round after round of O’Driscolls come at them. It has to be every single member of the gang, Arthur reckons. He sticks right beside Dutch as the man takes down his fair share of enemies. That is until he hears Sadie scream from behind the house.

“Go,” Dutch calls out unprompted. “I’ll cover you.”

Arthur runs around the house as Dutch takes down any men that might shoot at him. When he sees Sadie, she’s pinned down behind one of the buildings in the back. He fights his way toward her, then the two fight their way back out, clearing out all the O’Driscolls that had flanked the house. Soon, the gunshots fade as the few remaining enemies retreat.

Arthur doesn’t even give himself a minute to rest before he’s rushing back into the house and up the stairs. John is hot on his heels as he’s thinking similarly to Arthur in wanting to check on his family. Both men come through the door to the Marston’s room and see the women and Jack sitting on the bed, still cuddled together.

Upon seeing Arthur, Emmeline jumps up and runs over to him, enveloping him in a hug. “Are you hurt?” she asks into his shoulder.

“I’m okay.” He pulls back to look at her. “You okay?”

She nods, her eyes still watery with unshed tears. The battle had certainly shaken her up.

He pulls her back into him and cradles her head to his chest. “It’s alright. It’s over now,” he whispers to the top of her head. After a moment, he looks over to John, now sitting beside Abigail and Jack, his arm around them. “We need to get out of here,” he says suddenly.

John looks at him confused. “What do you mean?”

Emmeline backs up to look at Arthur as well. “Are they coming back?” She takes his statement as meaning that they need to clear out the camp again.

“No. I don’t know.” Arthur shakes his head. “I mean we ,” he gestures between himself and John, “should leave.”

“What are you saying?” John bites back.

“This life ain’t no place to raise a family, John. We all know that. Jack shouldn’t be raised like this.” He looks over to Emmeline. “No child should. Both of us need to seriously start thinkin’ about leaving.”

John stands with a huff. “All the shit you gave me for leaving and now you’re suggesting it?!”

Arthur takes a step towards the younger man. “You didn’t just leave us . You left them .” He gestures to Abigail and Jack. “Your responsibilities to the gang are one thing, but you left your responsibilities as a father. That’s what I gave you shit about. That boy needed a father. Still does. And this life more ‘n likely is gonna end in him losing you. Or bein’ an orphan.”

“Arthur’s right, John,” Abigail concurs as Jack still clutches his arms around her, though he’s cried himself out and is now falling asleep despite the voices around him. “We can’t keep doin’ this forever. Jack’s getting older and he’s gonna be aware of what we do pretty soon. What you do. He’s a good boy. Smart, you know. He could do so much more than either of us.”

Emmeline feels a bit like a third wheel in this conversation. Though, undoubtedly, she’s one part of the subject of the conversation, everyone else besides her is dealing with a history she’s not involved with. Arthur and John have lived together for over a decade as brothers, for lack of a better word. And Abigail has been with the gang for a few years as well. The decision whether or not to leave the group certainly must be a difficult one for them. The input of a person that’s only been there for a few weeks probably won’t be very welcome at this point, so Emmeline keeps her mouth shut.

John looks from Abigail to Arthur then flicks his gaze over to Emmeline. “You plannin’ on leavin’ with her?” he asks Arthur.

“Don’t have no plans, really.” Arthur runs his hand over his beard as he lets out a sigh. “That O’Driscoll had his gun to her head, fixin’ to shoot her,” he says as he gestures to Emmeline. “In one second she coulda been gone. I coulda lost that chance to...” he swallows roughly at the thought, “to be a father. All because of some old gang feud she ain’t had no part in.”

Not knowing what to say, Emmeline just takes Arthur’s hand in hers. Truth be told, she was specifically avoiding thinking about how close she came to death. And how close Arthur came to it as he battled outside. This whole situation is something she’s never had to deal with before.

Heavy footsteps echo in the hallway outside the room causing everyone to look in that direction.

“Arthur, John?” Dutch’s voice calls out as the footsteps grow nearer.

“In here,” Arthur answers.

A moment later, Dutch appears in the doorway, looking more lively than he has of recent. “Everyone alright in here?”

Everyone nods.

“Good,” Dutch continues. “No major injuries on our side. It seems the O’Driscolls plan was thwarted thanks to you, Emmeline.”

“Oh?” she replies. “I didn’t really do nothing.”

“You alerted us,” Dutch says, pride in his voice. “And Kieran told me you went after the man that attacked him. That was very brave.”

Arthur whips his head around to look at her. “You what ?”

“I just reacted,” she answers. “I saw someone hurting Kieran, so I tried to stop it.”

“You can’t do that,” Arthur asserts.

“Now, son,” Dutch interjects, “she most certainly saved that poor boy from a grisly fate. I think she deserves praise for that.”

Emmeline gives Dutch a genuine smile. Despite the fact that she hasn’t known the man that fathered her for that long, she’s not immune to his charms. Much like the way he’s fostered loyalty in Arthur over the years, she feels a sense of pride that the man is complementing her.

Arthur, on the other hand, is not happy. “I don’t think we should be encouraging her to put herself in danger.”

“It’s not encouragement, Arthur. Just acknowledgement.” Dutch pauses then lets out a heavy breath. “That’s not why I’m here, anyway. Javier caught one of the O’Driscolls before he could run away. I thought I could use you two,” he gestures to Arthur and John, “to interrogate him. See if he won’t tell us where that bastard Colm is so we can return his hospitality .” The word is laced with venom.

Arthur and John share a look before nodding.

“I gotta get dressed first,” Arthur says as he turns to leave with John and Dutch.

“Meet us in one of the buildings in the back,” Dutch calls out as he an John start to descend the stairs.

Emmeline follows Arthur over to their room. “Did you really mean all that?” she asks while he gathers some clothes from his trunk. “About leaving?”

He pauses his motion and turns back to her. “I’ve been scared since... the doctor told us we was gonna be parents, really. Scared what kinda father I’d be. Scared what Dutch is gonna say. Scared about it changing everything here, my whole life, everything I’ve ever known. But all of that weren’t nothing compared to how scared I was when I thought I was gonna lose the two ‘a you. And I don’t wanna leave you a widow, neither. We both need to get outta this. Together.”

She gives him a soft smile as she looks up at him. “That’s what I want, too.”

Over the last few weeks, Emmeline has come to care for the people around her in the camp. All she’s seen is people working together in a normal way, doing everyday things like tending the horses and cleaning up. But this burst of violence is unlike anything she’s ever experienced. She’s never been so close to gunfire, never seen anyone be fought with or shot. Now that she has, she wants nothing more than to never experience that again. If that means leaving everyone here... it’ll be hard, but she’s fine with it as long as she, Arthur, and the baby are safe.

#of sons and daughters #writehavoc Of Sons and Daughters #writehavoc writes #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan / oc #arthur morgan x original female character #Arthur Morgan / Original Female Character #Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr

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rickiewrites · 5 years

Text

Creepie Love: Chapter 2

#the grim adventures of billy and mandy #writing #literature #fanfiction #growing up creepie #creepie creecher #nergal jr #grim adventures of billy and mandy #writeblr

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sassycassie-s-writing · 6 years

Text

Heartbreaking

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood, feat. Bruce Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG-13 (for torture)

Original Idea: I came up with it randomly with the dialogue at the beginning.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is violent. So don’t read this if you it triggers or makes you uncomfortable. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

"Jason! Jason! No, no, no, no, no! JASON!"

There was nothing more heartbreaking or soul-wrenching to Jason Todd than hearing the love of his life screaming his name, begging for him to save her, and being completely unable to do anything.

He struggled against the ropes holding him to the chair. In vain.

One Hour Earlier…

"Hey babe. What's up?" Jason asked, strolling into my apartment with a grin on his face full of mischief.

"I'm just cleaning the house. What's up with you?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch. There's this lovely little café up the street and this one rooftop where the view is absolutely incredible. Care to join?"

"Sure."

We went to the café and ordered lunch, then climbed a fire escape to the top of an apartment building from which we could see downtown Gotham. I leaned against Jason's arm as we ate our lunch.

"Jay?"

"Mm?"

"Have I mentioned today that I love you?"

"No. But I never get tired of hearing it."

Something rumbled below us. We both glanced at each other. "What was that?" I asked.

"I don't know…" Jason muttered.

The second rumbling was an explosion in the building. Down on a lower floor.

Jason hauled me to my feet unceremoniously. "We gotta get to the ground," he said, pulling me urgently over to the fire escape.

Before we could reach it, the roof caved in.

I shrieked as it swallowed me.

The last thing I heard was Jason's agonized scream of my name.

I blacked out.

^^^^^

When I woke up, there was a man standing over me. He wore a black mask and a scary smirk. There was something in his hand. It looked like a cane but… well. I grew up in Gotham. Things weren't always exactly what they seemed. He could have hidden a blade, or even some form of gun, inside the cane.

"The love of the Red Hood," he snarled. "The perfect leverage."

"Don't you touch her!" Jason's voice snarled from somewhere nearby. There was a noise like he was struggling against restraints. Which he probably was.

I managed to clear my vision enough that by the time my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness I could see Jason lashed to a chair.

On the other hand, I was lying on my side on the floor with my arms bound behind my back and my ankles tied. Someone had also removed my shoes. For some reason. I swallowed nervously. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

The man in the black mask turned to look at Jason. "Consider this payback for everything you did to try to bring me down," he snapped.

He flipped the cane so he was holding onto the end that was meant to go on the ground---and whacked me across the face with the handle.

The pain that exploded on my cheekbone was intense. I shrieked, more on instinct than anything else, and curled up.

Another blow---this one to my ribs.

And another. My leg.

Jason was shouting and swearing, but I could barely hear him past the beating of my own heart in my ears. "You son of a---let her go! She's innocent you---!" There was more thrashing as he tried to escape his bonds. My ears tuned in and out, like when I'd take sleeping medication and drift in and out of consciousness.

More pain exploded in my gut as the cane's handle was driven into it. I cried out and gagged.

"Jason! Jason!" I pleaded, wincing away from the man in the black mask backswinging for another strike. "No, no, no, no, no!" I curled tighter, desperately wishing to be anywhere else. Somewhere my skin had split because my blood was on the floor. "JASON!" I screamed.

The cane struck me in the chest.

The man in the black mask threw the cane to the side while I vaguely heard Jason threatening to kill said man. "Take her away," the man ordered. "Lock her up until she stops crying. Then we'll start again."

Was I? Was I crying? I couldn't tell. Everything hurt and I didn't have the brain space to be conscious of tears.

Two men loomed from the shadows. They each grabbed one of my arms and yanked me to my feet, nearly dislocating my shoulders.

Since my ankles were still bound they had to drag me down dark corridors and into a cell. I got flung onto a cot and left there, still bound up and hurting. I allowed myself to sob like I hadn't since my very first heartbreak. My breath hitched in my lungs and tears streamed down my face.

Somewhere, I thought I heard Jason shouting and swearing more. Though it could have just been my imagination. Probably just was my imagination.

I closed my eyes, still letting tears flow with reckless abandon, and did my best to relax. If I did that, the pain wasn't as bad. I was too tired to even care. My injuries were going to bruise and wherever my skin split open might scar, but I'd be okay. I repeated that like a mantra. I'll be okay. I'll be okay. I'll be okay…

I had never been less okay, and I knew it. But I couldn't admit it.

I let out a little, "Ow," of pain and huddled against the wall. "Jason. Jason…" I whispered.

^^^^^

"Master Bruce? Master Jason and his girlfriend went out to lunch three hours ago and have not returned, nor sent any word of their well-being," Alfred said to Bruce. The latter scrunched his eyebrows.

"Did you track the girl's cell phone?"

"I thought it best to wait for your decision. Shall I?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Keys tapped as Bruce slung his cape over his shoulders and pulled his cowl on.

"Her last known location was near the apartment building where Master Jason likes to watch the sunset. But currently the signal is unresponsive."

"I'll see if I can track them down. Do me a favor and call Dick. I might need backup."

"What about Master Damian?"

"What's he doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Let him sleep. I think Dick will be all the backup I need. If he's not available, call Cassie. She should have a few minutes to spare."

"Yes Master Bruce."

Bruce climbed into the Batmobile and sped off.

^^^^^

Jason paced his cell along the same path so many times he thought he was going to wear down the concrete. "C'mon. There's gotta be a way to get out of here… Escape… hinge bolts…" he muttered to himself.

He pounded on the door. "Hey! How about you guys come in here so I can turn you black and blue? Seems a fair price to pay for beating an innocent girl with a cane!" he shouted through the glass. "How about you let me out and see how fun I can be! I swear when I get out of here I'm going to tear down Black Mask's empire once and for all, just because he hurt her!"

He kicked the door with the side of his foot, growled in frustration, and went back to pacing, stalking up and down the cell, trying hard to keep himself from lashing out violently. If he did, he'd injure himself and he couldn't afford injuries when he escaped…

^^^^^

I moaned in pain as I tried to move. I was stiff, but my position was the least painful I'd been able to find.

I was already bruising. I could see it on my leg and my chest.

Breathing hurt where I'd been struck in the ribs. My head was pounding. So was my heart.

I closed my eyes against the cold of the cell and strained my ears, listening for Jason. I couldn't hear anything, no matter how much I blocked out visual stimulus to focus on listening.

That didn't surprise me. The walls felt like they were made of concrete. Sound didn't travel particularly well through concrete. Especially when it was a foot thick.

The door opened with a thunk.

I sniveled and curled up against the wall, wanting to be anywhere but here, trying to shrink away from whoever was at the door.

Hands grabbed my shoulders. They were a little rough, but they weren't yanking me around. "You're okay now. I'm going to get you out of here," a deep voice said.

I opened my eyes. "I'm dreaming," I said.

Batman's gaze searched my body, scanning my injuries. "You're not. It's me. I'm really here. And I'm going to go get Jason out. And then we're going to come back for you, got it?"

"Uh…" My brain was still foggy and I wasn't entirely certain I wasn't asleep. "Sure?"

"Okay. Be right back. Stay here and don't leave."

"Not goin' anywhere, B-man."

Batman almost smiled. "You've been hanging around Jason too long."

I shrugged---and then stopped because it hurt.

Batman swooped out of the cell and vanished. I stayed where I was, too damaged to move.

It felt like only seconds later strong arms were lifting me off the cot. "Oh baby. You're going to be okay. I promise," Jason whispered into my hair.

I "Hmm"ed in response.

"Let's go, Hood," Batman said, pushing Jason's red helmet onto his son's head. I curled up against Jason's chest. "Follow me, let me do the fighting. Whatever happens, keep her safe."

"Preachin' to the choir, old man," Jason said.

The two of them started running, Jason holding me tight.

"It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay," he vowed.

#Heartbreaking #Jason Todd #Jason Todd Imagine #Jason Todd FanFiction #Red Hood #Red Hood Imagine #Red Hood FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

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pass-the-bechdel · 5 years

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Homicide: The Movie

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

Yes, once.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Eleven (28.94% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-seven.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

Definitely not a strong finish to the series, but then again, neither was anything in the final season of the actual show, either. You could skip this and not really be missing out. In fact, you might be better off that way.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Howard interviews Mrs Desassi.

Female characters:

Dawn Daniels.

Helen Lucaitis.

Terri Stivers.

Laura Ballard.

Kay Howard.

Nonna Giardello.

Megan Russert.

Rene Sheppard.

Mrs Desassi.

Billie Lou Munch.

Julianna Cox.

Male characters:

Al Giardello.

Paul Falsone.

Meldrick Lewis.

Mike Giardello.

Frank Pembleton.

George Barnfather.

Tim Bayliss.

Stuart Gharty.

Stanley Bolander.

John Munch.

Roger Gaffney.

Robert Hall.

John Komen.

Karl Miller.

J.H. Brodie.

Terry.

Robert Gessner.

Dr Williams.

Salerno.

Jasper.

Bernard Weeks.

George Griscom.

Mike Kellerman.

Eric Thomas James.

Ed Danvers.

Steve Crosetti.

Beau Felton.

OTHER NOTES:

Considering this film is set not long after season seven ended, it’s kinda weird that Gee has apparently gone from his newly-appointed Captainship to campaigning for Mayor in that time. I mean, I’m not surprised that he would be bored out of his mind in Property Crimes, but this is quite the sudden leap for a guy who never expressed a desire or inclination for a political career.

The old credit sequence is back! Wouldn’t have been right to finish without it.

SPEAKING OF OLD THINGS THAT ARE BACK:

Forget about Gee’s career shift being weird: what the heck with fucking GHARTY being Homicide’s shift commander now? Remember four years ago in-show, when he was introduced as a cowardly derelict-in-his-duties uniform officer just trying to make it to his pension (only a few months off at that time)? How does that guy make it to Lieutenant in four years? Seems fucking ridiculous.

Mike Giardello going on a rampage beating the shit out of people is objectively uncool, but the decision to have Mike Kellerman tagging along watching him while casually snacking makes the whole sequence hilarious.

It’s been so many hours since Gee was shot, where the heck are his other kids, huh? I feel like they’re conveniently pretending they don’t exist so that they can focus on making his bond with Mike seem especially ~profound~. It’s too late in the game for the father/son Ultimate Bond cliche, y’all.

Why the fuck Gharty talking about putting up with being a ‘stooge’ in order to get off the street, instead of just taking that Goddamn retirement? What a tiresome man. I can’t believe we wasted literally any scenes at all on giving him a weak excuse for a subplot-esque thing, when we’ve got all of these other great characters running around getting about three spoken lines and zero functional purpose. Urgh.

Bayliss confessing to the Ryland murder to Pembleton is a great scene, but it feels out of place in the film, and disingenuous as a plot development for the characters - considering it’s the last development they ever get, I really don’t think it’s a meaningful conclusion (individually or as a partnership), and it takes a mainstay of the series at its best - the writing, acting, and chemistry that made Pembleton and Bayliss the show’s flagship team - and perverts it with the kind of dramatic contrivance that was a mainstay of the series at its worst.

Lewis just gotta bring up Bayliss’ sexuality, coz he’s a jerk.

The afterlife scene is super weird and not a strong ending for the entire series in the slightest (the dialogue there feels especially stilted), but I am delighted that they took the excuse to include Crosetti and Felton, and complete the set by getting every single major character from the series back again, living and dead.

I mean, yes, I am delighted that I got to see EVERYONE one last time, but it made for a wildly overstuffed hour-and-a-half film, and almost none of those characters were used to meaningful effect. Essentially, having the entire cast back is a gimmick - and a gimmick that I love - but consequently the plot has no idea what to do with itself, characters drift in and out of it and mostly achieve nothing more than just physically being there for the sake of it, and thus there’s almost no building of emotional resonance or even the natural tension which should arise from having our beloved shift commander shot. More than anything, this feels like an excuse to bring Bayliss and Pembleton together one last time, and I certainly understand that temptation, but it’s a bad move in terms of actually telling the story of the film (which involves thirty-six other named and speaking characters who are not Bayliss and Pembleton, lest we forget).

Additionally, the movie is dotted with useless extras that have nothing to do with the core narrative and only serve to waste vital time which could have been better invested giving one of the many underused characters something to do (the pointlessness of Detective Hall, who was not part of the original series and has no impact upon this film now, is chief in my mind on this score - adding drama by having the shooter in the hospital was also a time-waster), but then again, even the scenes which DID use our old characters were largely red herrings that could be excised from the film completely without altering the story at all. In some cases, that really would have been an improvement, since the movie doesn’t even pretend to treat Little Gee’s rampage as anything other than a pointless dead end, nor Munch and Bolander’s visit to the African Revival Movement, Sheppard and Lewis’ interview with the white supremacist (who was never part of the original series either), or Howard and Falsone’s visit to the widow Desassi. All of these scenes exist purely so that those other characters can do One Single Thing as if it will magically legitimise their presence, while Bayliss and Pembleton unsurprisingly take up the bulk of screen time and are the only ones who uncover anything useful (seriously, they’re even the ones who notice the gunsmoke on the video, even though Ballard and Stivers were assigned to review the footage. Fucking script couldn’t even give some other characters just one genuinely useful thing to do in all this useless mess).

Altogether, the whole thing feels massively under-cooked as a story in its own right, and it has nothing to say about the show, its legacy, what it meant or why it existed in the first place. Homicide was never about Al Giardello’s command, any more than it was about Bayliss and Pembleton’s partnership. Then again, this movie isn’t really about those things either, they’re just the only aspects it manages to carve out with anything close to clarity. Ultimately, I’m not so sure this movie was about anything.

#Homicide: the Movie #Homicide: Life on the Street #HLOTS #Bechdel Test #female representation

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multifandommandy · 7 years

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I Get to Love You

Requested by @sgarrett49: Hi may I please request an Eggsy imagine where instead of the Princess he comes home to/marries the reader? Just snippits of their life together after the events of Golden Circle ex: their honeymoon or them being domestic? Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x female Reader Warnings: Plot fix-it’s from yours truly to the best of my abilities. A few NSFW references and Eggsy level swearing. *Y/F/N = your full name. Word Count: 2,082. yikes.

The sweet melodic tune of Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You has you dashing like a madwoman across your small apartment, abandoning both your task of preparing dinner and a highly indignant pug waiting for table scraps back at your counter.

Within seconds a handsome and familiar face is peering at you through the screen of your phone, your heart doing a familiar flip in your chest from seeing him alive and in one piece. “ ‘ello angel.” Eggsy grinned, immediately blowing you a kiss that you pretended to catch. “Hey baby! I’ve missed you.” Crawling onto your shared bed, you were nearly knocked over when JB made a running leap into your lap and stuck his little face into the screen of your phone. “Okay, okay – we’ve missed you.” You corrected, absent-mindedly scratching behind the pug’s ears. “Does this mean you’re coming home soon?”

Despite the hopeful tone in your voice, the way Eggsy’s face dropped told you that something serious was troubling him. Even more so than the fact that his home and most of his possessions had been destroyed by a missile, save for the few belongings he kept at your place and the pug that’d joined you both for a movie night when it happened. “Darling?” You prompted, causing the blonde to withdraw from whatever conversation he was having with himself and focus on you once again.

“I’ve kind of got a bit of a save the world situation here.” he told you carefully, waiting for him to continue before you said anything. Eggsy’s job was saving the world, as far as you knew. As long as he came home to you in one piece that’s all you cared about. Or it was – until you heard what else he had to say. “– I have to sleep with the target.”

The idea of another woman kissing your man made your brows knit together, mouth opening and closing from trying to form a coherent sentence. How the hell were you supposed to be okay with this? You’ve done your best to be a supportive girlfriend, accepting the little bits of information he was allowed to offer you because you loved him. But you couldn’t stomach the thought of someone else touching Eggsy – let alone having him make love to her the way he did you. “… You have to?” Was all you could manage, averting your eyes from your phone and staring at a spot on the quilt.

“Y/N…” When you refused to meet his gaze, Eggsy let out an even deeper sigh. “Angel, you know I love you – more than anything in the entire world. You’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” This had you turning back to him, the sincerity from his voice and expression causing you to tear up further. “Is that a proposal?” Now it was Eggsy’s turn to stutter and flush like a fish out of water. That serves him right for putting you in this situation. He was only calling you to warn you about what would happen, putting your relationship over the safety of billions of people only ever happened on television. “Not exactly?” He glanced at his watch and grimaced before facing you squarely in his chair. “Love, I’m so sorry, but I’ve gotta go.” You bobbed your head in understanding, the defeated look on your face made his mind up for him.

“Tell me you love me?” He breathed, so softly you weren’t sure you heard him correctly. “I love you baby.” you told him truthfully, making him smile for the first time in what felt like forever. “I love you too, Y/N. Trust me, I’ll make this up to you when I get home.” Blowing you and JB one more kiss, Eggsy killed the feed and left you staring at your phone with your heart in your throat. What were you supposed to do now?

The next time you saw Eggsy you expected there to be an awkward wedge of silence between you. Instead he swept you into his arms and kissed you deeply, sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip as he moaned into your mouth. The feeling of something hard insistently pressing against your belly made you wiggle out of his embrace, doing your best to smooth out your hair while you took in his appearance. Aside from the obvious exhausted bags under his eyes he was no worse for wear, JB dancing excited circles around his legs.

“Is this how you meant to make it up to me?” You grumbled, making a vague gesture towards his crotch. “Because I’m really not in the mood for -” “I didn’t sleep with her.” Eggsy cut you off before you could finish your thought, reaching towards you slowly to cup the side of your face in his hand. “I thought there was no other way, but God I’d do anything for you.” His thumb instinctively brushes away the tears you didn’t know you were shedding, his free hand fishing for something in his pocket. Before you could ask what on earth he was doing, Eggsy was unbuttoning his blazer and dropping to one knee in front of you.

“Now this – this is a proposal. Just so we’re clear.” he grinned, leaving you to gape as he opened the black velvet box to reveal the biggest, most beautiful diamond ring you’d ever seen. Eat your heart out, Kim Kardashian West! “Call me a fool for not realizing it earlier, but when I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you – I meant it. I never thought I would be blessed with a woman who’d become both my best friend and the love of my life.” Both of you are openly weeping when Eggsy reaches for your left hand. “Y/F/N, would you please make me the happiest bloke alive and marry me?”

Words are beyond you at this point, Eggsy taking your happy squeaking noise as a yes and sliding the engagement ring onto your finger. He surged up from his knee to kiss his fiancée, starting his kisses out slow and sensual and ending with the two of you fucking on every horizontal surface in your flat.

“I can’t wait to be your wife,” you panted into his shoulder four hours later. The equally nude man beneath you gave you a doped out grin, kissing your mouth and your ring finger before tucking you in beside him on the bed. “I can’t wait to be your husband, either.” You and Eggsy share sweet kisses and each other’s embrace until you fall asleep, waking up way past noon the next day to call your friends and family and tell them the news.

Exactly one year later you stumble through the door of your honeymoon suite, already half undressed from the romp in the private jet with your husband. The two of you had been all over each other ever since your carriage ride away from the wedding chapel, a long day of so much happiness and nerves working you both into a frenzy.

You’d cried when you slipped into your wedding dress, staring at yourself in a full length mirror with your Mom and Michelle hovering around you. Little Daisy was pressed to your skirts eagerly, the tiny flower crown on her head matching yours. “Bootiful big sister!” She told you, grinning her little toothy grin up at you.

You’d cried when you saw the look on your Dad’s face, his lower lip trembling when he realized his little girl was about to get married. You formed a group hug with your parents, whispering to them that no matter what – you’d always be their little girl. That only made you cry more.

And of course – you’d cried when you saw Eggsy waiting for you at the end of the aisle. Your crowd of friends and family all rose up to see you enter the chapel, collective gasps as they all marvelled at how you radiated happiness, beauty and love. You felt as if your Prince Charming was the only person in the room, dressed to the nines in his best suit with an elated smile on his face. You’re so beautiful, he’d mouthed to you. How had you gotten so lucky?

The sound of your zipper drew you out of your happy recollection of yesterday’s events, eagerly fumbling for the button of your husband’s jeans. Husband. Husband. Husband. No matter how many times you said it, you still couldn’t get used to it.

“I love you so fucking much, Missus Unwin.” He panted, letting out a muffled grunt as you slipped your hand inside his briefs. “I can’t believe I get to love you for the rest of my life.”

“ – Our life. The rest of our life,” you corrected him pointedly. Eggsy chuckled appreciatively, reluctantly withdrawing your hand and hoisting you up into his arms. “That’s right, the rest of our life. How ‘bout I take my wife to our bed?”

No need to ask you twice.

Eggsy was fairly certain he’d never been more tired in his life, barely able to amble out of the cab and fish around in his pocket for his house keys. All he wanted to do was take a hot shower and sleep for a day – possibly two, at least until he opened the front door.

“Daddy’s home!”

The first thing he hears is the scramble for poor old JB and his son Eddie to round the corner and get to Eggsy first. Hot on the tail of the two chubby pugs is a vivacious four year old girl, the spitting image of her father in every way possible. Any trace of fatigue is pushed to the back of his mind the second he lays eyes on his daughter, setting down the bag of presents to pull Amelia into a hug.

“MAAAAAAMA! LEO! DADDY’S HOME!” She squealed – just in case you couldn’t hear him the first time, leaping into Eggsy’s awaiting arms and hugging him tight. “I missed you so much, Daddy!” He’s spinning her around when he hears a second voice join the excited chattering in his ear.

“Hey! Get back here!” Eggsy and Amelia both turn towards the sound of your voice, stepping out of the front hall to see your toddler running as fast as he could towards his sister and father on chubby little legs. Eight years of marriage, and the sight of you still made Eggsy weak at the knees.

Chasing after Leo with a towel in your hands, you watched your golden haired boy continue to try and out run you. It only took you a couple of grown-up steps to catch up to your son, hoisting him into your arms with a defiant squeal from the tot.

“Gotcha!” You grinned, blowing a raspberry against his tummy and carrying him the rest of the way. Eggsy already had your daughter in one arm, pulling you close with the other. Happy-go-lucky Leo stretched to kiss your husband’s chin, watching with stars in your eyes as Eggsy alternated rapid fire kisses between your two children.

“No kisses for Mommy?” You pouted, letting Leo snuggle back into your chest as Eggsy set your daughter down. You knew as soon as your bedroom door closed you’d get plenty of deep kisses, but for now you were content with the polite soft peck Eggsy gave you.

“Eeeeew!” Amelia groaned, standing on her tip toes to try and shield her little brother from the gross sight of parents kissing. You quirked an eyebrow at the pint sized blonde, narrowing your eyes at her in mock annoyance. “You think Mommy’s gross, huh? And to think I was going to order our favourite pizzas for dinner.”

You were met from three different sets of pleas from your family, Eggsy taking a squirming Leo from your arms. “I’ve got the baby, love. I’ll meet you in the kitchen?” Amelia was already running off to find the take out menu, following your daughter and her excited chant of “Pizza, Mama! Pizza!”

Later that night with both children asleep, you laid comfortably on your husband’s chest listening to his heartbeat. “Thank you for coming home to us,” you whispered. Even in his sleep, Eggsy nuzzled into your hair.

If the last 8 years were any indication of the rest of your lives together – you were in for one hell of a ride.

#eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin imagine #kingsman imagine #kingsman x reader #*

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sinsiriuslyemo · 6 years

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Cuba v DR Season 17: Special Features

You asked, and we answered!!! We all answered lol together, it was…interesting to say the least. Hahaha

CAST/AUTHOR Q&A

Does Dama ever regret marrying Nevada? Or wonder if she would have been happier with someone else?

Dama: Is Channing Tatum available?

Nevada: *arches a brow at Dama* That guy looks like a fucking cyborg. Coño you have shitty taste.

Dama: He’s handsome, he dances and I could actually hurt myself on his abs. Yum. But, in reality, no. I’ve never regretted marrying him.

Nevada: *mumbles* Gross.

Dama: He’s my idiot ‘till death. *Smiles* Or ‘till Channing calls.

Nevada: That’s fucking disgusting.

Dama: Oh? Who would you pick then, hmmm?

Nevada: Nobody, cause I’m not a dick. *smirks*

Which language are Nevada and Dama more comfortable speaking?

Dama: Personally, I prefer speaking English. I like speaking Spanish to Nevada because it’s intimate and not everyone will understand us. I enjoy that. With my kids I speak it because it’s an important part of who we are and I want them to be a part of that.

Nevada: Bro, literally everybody around us except for the Blackwoods speak Spanish. Como que ‘intimate?’

Dama: Can I change my answer about us being happily married?

Nevada: *points a thumb at Dama* You see what I gotta put up with?

Amanda: Okay, but half the time, you deserve it. Seriously.

Jen: Half?

Dama: Preach sister.

Nevada: Jesus Christ, surrounded by fucking ovaries over here.

*All three women arch a brow at him*

Question for Amber and Omar, separately but addressed to both of them: Does Amber want to get back together with Omar and hope that it will be like it was before Fallon?

Amber: No thanks

Same question for Omar.

Omar: No, I don’t wanna get back together with Amber.

Also, do either of them sometimes regret Fallon coming into the picture? Because like, without her they might’ve still been close and together

Omar: Honestly, I think we would’ve broken up anyway. It’s got nothing to do with Fallon. We just eventually ran out of shit to talk about and things to do that wasn’t sex. We would’ve grown apart anyway. Maybe it would’a taken longer, pero we would’a broken up eventually, I think.

Amber: I agree. Sexually, we have incredibly chemistry, but we didn’t do anything but have sex. The funny thing is now that we’re not married or together, we have tons to talk about.

Question for Nevada: does he ever regret marrying Dama and having all those babies? Like, does he ever think what his life would be like without them and just having raised Eddie? And what does he feel and think about that?

Nevada: *pauses for a minute* Nah. I mean I know my life would be a hell of a lot easier if they weren’t in the picture, but I like having my family around. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have the extra responsibility, pero for the most part, having kids ain’t so bad. Having a wife, though… *Dama glares at him* I’m kidding, she’s handy too.

Amanda: He just doesn’t wanna sound all lovey-dovey, but he loves his wife and those kids a lot more than he lets on.

Question for Eddie, is he gay? Or is he just BI?

Eddie: Coño, what’s it matter? I can stick my dick in anything I want right? If you’re at a buffet, you don’t just eat the sushi, you want some sausage too.

*Nevada laughs*

Dama: Eduardo Cuervo-Ramirez, I do not want that crass language on this interview!

Eddie: Tia they asked me a question, I’m supposed to answer. Yeah I guess if you wanna put a label on it, I’m okay with dick or pussy. What matters is the person, not the parts.

Dama: Jesus Christ, Eddie!

Nevada: There you go, mijo. Way to be how you want. *looks at Dama* Dejalo, chica.

*Dama rolls her eyes*

Will the story progress up to the last season to show us what will happen to everyone, when they’re old and gray? And hopefully not leave us with a cliffhanger. At least make everyone happy. Also, can I please request that everyone end up happy and Nevada doesn’t die in his line of work/ironically from a stroke caused by Lily or something lol would be hilarious though! Oh And Omar gets his job back and hopefully gets back together with Amber. Oh and to know what will happen to Rafael and Roxie!

We actually can’t say much to this question guys… It’s an amazing question! But neither myself or Amanda are fans of spoilers so we plan on keeping the ending under wraps for now. But I can promise Lily won’t give Nevada a stroke. Jesus, I hope not lol

Do Nevada and Dama plan to raise NJ like they did Eddie? Or will Nevada try to teach him so of the “business” ? I think Nevada will not want that for NJ like he didn’t want it for Eddie … Right?

Dama: I think Nevada and I both agree that none of our kids should be anywhere near the business. Right baby?

Nevada: *pauses for a minute, then shrugs* I don’t know, I kinda wanna do a “Take Your Kid To Work Day.”

Dama: I will put a bullet in you.

Nevada: Why? You think our kid is too good to run a strip club? It’s a legitimate way to earn a living, and he’d get to be surrounded by pussy and tits all day.

Dama: No! No I don’t wanna hear it! Lalalalala! I will not listen to my son and the word pussy in the same sentence, pendejo!

Nevada: *smirks and shakes his head* NJ comes near my business, I’ll bash his nose into his face. Mejor?

Dama: *Cringes* Not better.

Nevada: Bueno, what do you want me to do, chica? No, he’s not gonna learn anything about the business.

Question for Roxie: Does she ever feel homesick? And what are thoughts of Rafael and Roxie moving to London permanently?

Roxie: Oh, I really do miss my home. London has a special place in my heart and I’ll never stop missing it. But my heart is with Rafael, he’s my home now. And whether we move to London, or stay in New York, I’ll be perfectly content.

Rafael: I always thought maybe we’d retire in London, but our lives are in New York for now.

Roxie: London isn’t great to raise children, I want them to see sunshine. They’ll never see it there.

For some reason, I’m imagining Nevada not to have tattoos although if Dama has and he’s been like, badass for ever, it’s natural to assume he has. I just can’t picture it. So question to either the cast or authors: does he have a tattoo/multiple and of what and when did he get them if he has any. I actually hope Nevada doesn’t have any tattoos cuz I like him just Nevada. I’d rather just imagine him to only have packs and the build of a man to die for <3

Amanda: He doesn’t have any tattoos, but what he has an abundance of is scars. Bullet wounds, stab wounds, you name it.

Dama: So fucking sexy.

Jen: Yeah…if you like injuries from…stabbings and prison.

Dama: Like I said. So fucking sexy.

Nevada: I got one near my eye where my mom tried to pluck my eyeball out with a fork.

Amanda: Thank you for that insightful addition, Nevada.

Nevada: Mhm. Her favorite scar is one I got right on my chest, that was from a bar fight when I was like twenty or something. Fucker broke a chair over me, it broke and he used on of the pieces to–

Amanda: Okay, we get it. *shudders* Scars are sexy, but details really creep me out.

Dama: Sometimes he tells me that story to get me in the mood. I don’t condone violence but it already happened…and the scar is so… *eyes focus on his chest and then his crotch*

Amanda: Seriously? Later, woman, we’re in the middle of an interview.

Nevada: Fuck that *to Dama* Wanna go to the bathroom?

Dama: *Stands up* We’re gonna take a brief intermission.

This question for the Cuba vs Dr Q&A, this goes out to Dama and Nevada. So you guys have been married for about 7 years at least, how do you guys keep the spark going? - Delia26

Dama: A strong connection on both a mental and physical level, common interests and things to do together, special things only you two do. Like anal, or pottery.

Nevada: I hate pottery. Everything else, yeah. We like to try new shit every once in awhile.

Dama: And if one of us suggests things, we always gives two options. Like…we could go bird-watching or we can put on expensive clothes and have sex on a pile of money. It’s all about options.

Nevada: Bird-watching? Who would wanna do that?

Cast questions… Lily what are your favorite things about your Papi and Mami?

Lily: A question for me? Papi look! Someone ask-ed me a question! Ummm I like my mami because she is the prettiest person in the whole wide world and she looks like a princess! She makes me Mac and Cheese and she even still does the sippy cup song with me and NJ and Fi. But Fi doesn’t like it. But Fi doesn’t like anything.

For Papi, I like that he brushes my hair and tells me bedtime stories. He gives the bestest cuddles in the UNIVERSE! Which mama says is bigger than just the world. Papi also comes home from work and plays with me, even though sometimes I can tell that he sleepy.

Nevada: Oye, what about me being the most handsome man in the whole world, princesa? You don’t think papi’s handsome?

Lily: *giggles* No! Papi’s aren’t handsome! Papi look like a troll!

Nevada: Ah si?

Lily: Papi’s can’t be handsome silly! Otherwise the princess would marry them and not the prince!

Nevada: You just said your mother looks like a princess. Oye, you hurt my feelings, no more tea parties for you. *crosses arms and looks away*

Amanda: Are you for real? She’s six.

Nevada: *shrugs defiantly*

Lily: *Bottom lip trembles as eyes fill with tears*

Jen: Now he’s done it.

Nevada: *to Dama* Nothing to say?

Dama: *Still laughing from the troll comment*

Nevada: *gets up and leaves the room*

Amanda: Aye, he’s so fucking sensitive. *bites bottom lip* Please don’t tell him I said that. *looks at Lily* Lily, your papi just wanted you to say he was handsome, you don’t have to mean it.

Lily: Mami says not to lie *sniffles*

Dama: *Kneels* Sweetheart, you said the princess marries the prince right?

Lily: Si.

Dama: Well then if I’m the princess, that makes papi the prince, right?

Lily: Oh! *Hurries out to Nevada and hugs him* Papi don’t be sad. I love you so much! Mami says you’re the prince! So you’re the most handsomest!

Nevada: You don’t mean it. *gives her a puppy pout*

Lily: I do! I do! Mami said if she’s the princess then you’re the handsome prince!

Nevada: Mami says… *sighs and gets up, walking with Lily back into the interview room*

Lily: Papi is the handsomest! I mean it papi! Right mami? *Nevada rolls his eyes* Tell him!

Dama: *Smiles* I’ve always thought so.

Questions for Omar: Do you still love Amber?

Omar: I’ll always love Amber, but I’m not in love with her. No.

Has Fallon grown on you or did you love her unconditionally the first time you saw her?

Omar: She’s growing on me, I guess. Shit, she didn’t do anything to me. I got no reason to hate her.

On that note,how is fatherhood treating you?

Omar: She’s not dead, that’s something right?

Amanda: *looking at Omar with an expressionless face* Where did you go?

Omar: What?

Amanda: You’re not the same Omar anymore, it creeps me out a little.

Omar: *shrugs*

Jen: He’s the absolute worst now.

#nevada ramirez #rafael barba #trouble in the heights #law and order svu #cuba v dr

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thebetterarod · 7 years

Text

An Interview with Aaron Rodgers and Emmy Rossum.

When two best friends, an NFL quarterback and a double threat singer/actress, sit down to interview one another.. Social security numbers, net worth, motherhood, godfatherhood, divorce, dating in Hollywood, Impractical Jokers.. nothing is off limits.

Aaron: Welcome to your interview, girl from Shameless. Please state your full legal name, date of birth, hometown, mother's maiden name, and social security number.

Emmy: Emmanuelle Grey Rossum, born September 12, 1986 in Manhattan, New York to Cheryl Rossum. My Social Security number is 5. Is this what being in the military feels like? Anyways, thanks guy from the insurance commercials for that rousing set of intro questions. I hope you're ready, because I'm going to dig deep and get to the nitty gritty, here. To start, can you now state YOUR legal name, date of birth, home town and what your yearly wages are, please?

Aaron: 5, wow. You must be old. I'm Aaron Charles Rodgers, born on December 2nd, 1983 in Chico, California. My yearly wages? Does this include endorsements where I take selfies with dogs? I'm not Floyd Mayweather, but I'm in the top 100 World's Highest Paid Athletes, not to brag. I'm more towards the hundred side of the spectrum, but I'm still there. What's the one question you're sick of answering when promoting Shameless? Instead of answering said question, give me the question you wished they'd ask about you about the show and then pretend that's my next question and answer it.

Emmy: I am, you don't even know. December 2nd, huh? What's it like sharing a birthday with Britney Spears? Do you ever see her out on her birthday and call her a birthday buddy or something? Have you ever had a group party? You should. Yeah, I can tell you're not much of a bragger. Oh that one's easy! It's "So, what's it like having your top off every scene?" or "Is it weird to go on a first date knowing the other person has most likely already seen you mostly naked?" It's so fucking stupid. I see zero problems with nudity on TV or movies, I think there's much worse things out there portrayed--or for kids to see--rather then a naked body. I realize you said not to answer it--but I did anyways. I wish they'd ask me...hm. I dunno, really anything other then something pertaining to my boobs or naked ass, would be a treat. Speaking of boobs and naked asses--that feels like a great segway--empty your pockets. Right now. What's in there? They say you can learn a lot about a person just by what they carry around with them, so let's see...

Aaron: I do call her my birthday twin. It's great. I invite her out every year and she never shows. I even get Happy Birthday Aaron and Britney written on all my birthday cakes. I figured you'd say those questions were the ones that were repetitive and most annoying. What would they expect you to say? It's part of the script, you're an actress, and you're doing your job. My pockets.. let's see. I have my keys, my iPhone, my wallet.. That's it. It's boring, which pretty much sums up my life. I'd say empty your purse and let's see what's in it, but a gentleman never snoops around on a lady's purse. Instead, I'll piggyback on my boring life comment. Your life has recently changed when you welcomed your first child into the world. What's changed since you become a mother and what're some things people told you would change or happen, but didn't?

Emmy: I had a feeling you did--I mean--you're you. So that makes sense you'd do that. Awe, really? That's kinda sad, now. What's up, Brit? Why you giving Aaron the cold shoulder? I have no fucking clue--it's like they just constantly wanna talk about my tits rather then some of the actual issues we tackle on the show. Sure, we do it mostly with humor, but there are some real moments in there. Damn, that's it? I'm kinda disappointed, I was kind of hoping you'd have something juicy in your pockets or something--but clearly--that was a bust. Eh, the juiciest thing I have in there would be the old stick of gum or the birth control pills--you're not missing out on much, guys, by him not asking--don't worry! This is true! Well, I mean--pretty much everything changed, really. I was really comfortable living my life a certain way them BAM! It all changed--I had more then just myself to think about and take care of for once--and I think that's been the biggest thing of them all. I can't just be spontaneous in my decision making anymore--cuz it doesn't just effect me. It's gotten me to grow up a bit more, not that I was really a child before, but still. I mean, everyone told me to brace for the no sleep, but I've been in the industry for a while now. I was used to living off a few hours of sleep, anyways. So yeah, it's still kind of a blow at first, but I can't complain. What about you? You've recently taken on a new role--not as a father--but even better, as a god father. How's that life treating you?

Aaron: Hopefully now with things changing in Hollywood, these questions will come up less and less and people will be more inclined to focus on an actress's talent, rather than simply her body. Nothing juicy, just boring. Looks like you share that boring quality with me. I bet, and being a single parent probably made it change even more drastically since you're doing it on your own. This is actually the second time I've been named Godfather, not to brag or anything. My first godchild is Hadlee, Christina's daughter, and then Conor and Margot named me Godfather to Conor Junior. I knew I'd be named Godfather from the moment Conor told me Margot was pregnant, even if they kept denying it. Here's an important question. Ready for it?Okay, here's the shot out of the cannon: Oprah, Barbara Walters, your wife. You gotta fuck one, marry one, kill one, go! Just kidding. You once told me you used to sing Opera for hot dogs when you were younger, which means you started in this industry, in some way, at a young age. When did you first realize you wanted to be an entertainer and what was your first passion - singing or acting?

Emmy: That's what I'm hoping, too. And honestly, I can say, since it was made public that I was asking for equal pay--and since I was granted equal pay as my co star William H. Macy--it's come up a bit less. So hopefully it'll die out, soon. I do, just add it to the list of things we have in common, next to our love of Joe Gatto screaming "LARRY!" It does, but I was also raised by a single parent. My dad was never in the picture, I've only ever met him twice--I never even had his last name--so I had a good blueprint on what to do and how to handle everything from being raised by my mom. I like to think I'm doing a decent job, so far. You do know that by saying "not to brag" that doesn't make it okay, right? It's like when someone says no offense--then says something super offensive, I'm just saying! But that's cute--you're a good Godfather, I'll vouch for you. I'm Jewish, so we don't really do the whole godfather thing--but if we did--you'd be my choice of Linc. I'm not sure I'm ready--but go ahead, anyways. You're such an ass, I'm dying! I was like 'Do I have a wife I forgot about?' I did, it's all true and totally not weird! Well, now I don't wanna brag, but I was actually the youngest singer to be a in the metropolitan opera children's chorus. I got in when I was seven by singing Happy Birthday in all twelve keys. I'm just saying. But I think--at first--it was singing. My mom used to listen to a ton of classical music when she was pregnant with me--I'm convinced I came out singing. But after a while, I kind of just naturally gravitated more to acting. I love both, but I'm all about the challenge of getting into character, and portraying people with flaws. Now, I know I mentioned Joe before--so here's the ultimate Impractical Jokers question--are you ready? Who's the best joker?

Aaron: Let's hope, especially when equal pay is really being brought to light lately. It always had a driving force behind it, but now people are finally starting to pay attention. LARRY! Most readers don't know this, but Emmy's son is actually named Larry. Your mother is a role model in more ways than one, and you are doing a great job. Larry's a lucky kid. Yes it does. That's just like saying "With all due respect.." before saying something rude. Ricky Bobby 101. I'll pretend I'm Larry's Godfather as well. All twelve keys? That's impressive. I'd ask you to sing something, but the readers won't be able to hear it and this isn't some magazine where you get a feature on Youtube along with the interview. You're really making me pick a favorite? Is that fair? It's not. I can never choose because it changes from episode to episode, challenge to challenge. There's not one I dislike. Can you choose a favorite Joker? I bet you can't.

Emmy: Honestly, I really hope so. Okay, can you please not use this publication to lie about my son? His name is Lincoln--for anyone who didn't know. Lincoln Asher Rossum. His initials are LAR, and so Aaron has taken it upon HIMSELF to nickname him Larry. He's the worst. Not that there's anything wrong with the name Larry--that's just not MY son's name! She really is, I'm glad I'm not the only one who see's that. Awe, thanks! Is this the part where we tell the world he's actually your child? Too much? I'm kidding, guys. It's like the colonel Sanders said: "I'm too drunk to eat this chicken." I'm not surprised. Thanks, they were pretty impressed too I guess since I got the job. Too bad, I do a mean version of Good Vibrations--but opera-ed up. I am, I told you, this interview is going to get to the important things people want to know about! Hey! You can't turn this back on me! Fuck...no. I can't--I really can't! I love them all for different reasons! Fine...moving on--but I warn you--I'm just going to have to dig deeper now. Aaron Rodgers...if you could take anyone on the best date ever--who would you take, and where would you go?

Aaron: Emmy Rossum is the liar. Her son is actually named Larry. Oh, we're using this publication to tell the world I'm actually Larry's father? I thought we were going to get to take the highest bid between People Magazine and Us Weekly. Secret's out now and no one will give us the money. I feel more free now, though. I knew you couldn't decide on a favorite, either. No one can. The best date ever? There's not really a special anyone, except my baby mama, in my life. There's the 'go all out' date and then there's the low-key date. It also depends on the girl. I've always liked the idea of a day of a drink on the beach, followed by sailing at sunset (drink responsibly), and wrapping it up with a bonfire. I prefer dates outdoors rather than going to a movie or a crowded restaurant. Staying on the dating topic, do you find it difficult to date in Hollywood or would you say you're more of an open book and you don't care what the public or gossip sites know/find out?

Emmy: Bull shit! The next time some pap snaps a pic of my and Linc, they're gonna say 'Emmy Rossum, out for the day with her son Larry' and I'm gonna be so pissed--cuz it's all your fault. We just did! No going back now. After telling the world where you are on the spectrum when it comes to annual income, I doubt anyone's going to feel bad for us not holding out for the bidding war. Oh well. It's true, it's the impossible question! That makes sense, though. It depending on the person. I'm kind of the same way, I love to hike and just be outside in general, really. I mean, don't get me wrong--I think the world knows I love to eat--but BESIDES eating, I also love being outdoors. So that's an A+ from me, I'll be on the look out and see if I can find anyone willing to go on that date with you, I got your back, buddy. Fuck yeah it's difficult. I mean--here's the thing: I don't really care all that much about the gossip and all that--I think it's obvious after falsely and sarcastically calling you out as the father of my child many times--but that being said--yeah it's hard. You date someone in the industry, and sure they understand, and sure I don't mind THAT much what the public knows, but it doesn't make dating easy. Everything you do is constantly under a microscope. It messes with you. I'm seen talking to literally any guy, someone takes a pic and the other person is wondering "Well who's that? or vice versa. It's hard to push it all away for some people--at least people I've dated it seems, so. Constantly being on the spot does not make dating in Hollywood easy. Since we're actually being kind of serious for once--I'm not sure if you've talked about it publicly too much. And if you don't want to, you can just say "Emmy, shut the fuck up" but-- what actually happened with the divorce? What was the final straw for you? You may have beat the hollywood record for shortest marriage, I'm just saying.

Aaron: I hope they do because that would be fucking hilarious. They'd side with you and make me pay child support. They always side with the mother. I'm going to win the Super Bowl and drive off in a Hyundai. Of course there would be food involved in there somewhere. In your case, it'd be roasting hotdogs over the bonfire. That's your dream, isn't it? Having your every move watched and scrutinized is probably a pain. Sure, I'm in the public eye, but athletes don't have to deal with it nearly as much as you guys in the entertainment business do. It's a little odd people think your business is their business. I give you all props for dealing with it on a regular business and going off like Britney did with that umbrella. We can talk about my divorce, I don't mind. Liv and I rushed into marriage, but not the way one would think. We dated for years before, broke up because she wanted marriage and I didn't at that point. When we reconnected, she didn't trust me and we were not exclusively dating. Finally, we got back together and I proposed right away, rather than taking our time and seeing how things worked out this time around. I didn't want to lose her, so I figured that was the best bet. I didn't do it for pity or to tie her down, though. I really did want to marry her at the time. It wasn't a last straw thing that lead me to realizing a divorce was needed. It was rushing into things, the lack of trust, the lack of communication. She also wanted her career and didn't want to be slowed down. I think she realized playing wife in Wisconsin would lead to that. Sometimes things don't work out and it sucks, but that's life. Do you want to set the record straight on the topic of Lincoln's father and why you've decided to do everything at your own speed? If not, you can answer a question like, say... who's your favorite quarterback?

Emmy: Of course you'd think it's hilarious--such a dick! Oh, wait, hey, ya think? Maybe I should try and get that, then. Couple more bucks in my pocket--not bad. Ha! That is my dream, you know me well! It really is. A lot of people think just because I'm on a show or a movie or whatever--that my personal life should be open to the world, and it's just so crazy to me. I mean, I go to the same Whole Foods at least once a week and there's always this one cashier I see. Because I see them on a weekly basis, does this mean I should have access to all of his personal business--like what the fuck? That makes sense. I mean, it was what felt right at the time--but when it stops feeling right well--there's usually a reason for it. You guys were smart in not letting it go on for a long time like some people do. Set the record straight? Hm...I dunno? I feel like I've been as open about the whole situation as I could. Am I proud of the way things turned out--am I happy Linc might not know who his dad is? No. But...I lived my life a certain way--there's not much more I could do. I've reached out, others have reached out, DNA tests have been taken...here's the thing. My father wanted nothing to do with me or my mom when he found out she was pregnant. I don't want to force someone to be in Linc's life if they don't want to be. When I had him, and for the end of my pregnancy--it was public. The ones out there now know who they are--and if they wanna step up and take a DNA test, they can...I'm not going to force them, though. It's not like I'm lacking for anything--I can provide. So. Yeah. PS my favorite QB is Brett Favre. What's your most embarrassing guilty pleasure? Could be music, tv--whatever!

Aaron: Are you dating this cashier? You're starting rumors about yourself now. Exclusive: Emmy Rossum is dating Whole Food cashier! Exactly, I thought marriage was what she wanted and I didn't really give it any time before popping the question. You live and learn. I'm not sure if my marriage lasted longer than Kim K's. That's understandable - you also know what's best for Linc. You wouldn't force him to have a father in his life and deal with the disappointment if the man didn't want to be involved. He obviously has a good support system with you and you're more than financially stable to provide. Not many would look at the whole thing your way, but it's a good way of approaching it. My embarrassing guilty pleasure? Chick flicks and reality shows, but I'm not embarrassed by it. I don't try to hide it or anything. The Kardashians are annoying as hell, but their show is hilarious sometimes. Team Taylor, by the way. Speaking of Taylor and her feuds, do you have any feuds with a fellow celebrity? Or is there someone you just cannot stand?

Emmy: Yes. His name is Norm, we're very much in love. Can't ever say Emmy Rossum discriminates when it comes to dating. That's all just part of life though, isn't it? You have to go through the shit to learn from your mistakes. We'll have to google it. I'm pretty sure you at least beat your birthday rival, so there's that. Exactly. I didn't have a father and quite frankly, I think I ended up fine. Would I ever try and ban his father from his life, if they came forward and wanted to be an active part? No. But I also think I've made all of this fairly clear--so if they want to go through it all--they can. I didn't really know how else to do it, ya know? Thanks, I appreciate that a lot, actually. Oh yeah? Well what's your favorite chick flick then? Be more specific, come on! Ha, no, no. I've never had a celebrity beef. I like to think I get along with pretty much everyone--I think I'm pretty easy going. At least I try to be. I'm kind of over the whole Kardashian thing if we're being honest. Sorry, I know you just said they're your fave--but it's the truth! I just don't really get the whole craze, I dunno--maybe I'm just getting old.

Aaron: Norm. He sounds like an older man or a scientist. Is he working at Whole Foods while paying his way through school? Britney only lasted a few hours, right? I can relate in a way to the no father thing. He was around growing up but in the past few years, my family and I lost touch. People who watched the Bachelorette know all about that. I never really commented on it because I wasn't about to air my family's dirty laundry like my brother did on national television. Shit happens. My favorite chick flick is Pretty Woman, because it's a classic, and How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days. Great movies. Oh, I don't understand the Kardashian thing either. They're definitely not my favorite, it's just fun to watch a trainwreck. Plus, Scott Disick is one funny guy, especially when he's calling them all out. We should probably wrap this up, yeah? What do you want your legacy to be? What do you want to be remembered for?

Emmy: He's in school to be a scientist, how did you know?!? I think so, yeah. I didn't know that about you--I knew about your brother, not about the rest though. There's a difference between being open and honest with the public and media, and still maintaining some private life, I think. Its a balance, and sometimes outsiders don't get that. Those are good ones, you chose wisely, I approve. It really baffles me but I guess people just like watching a train wreck sometimes to feel better about themselves? I know I've had people come up to me and thank me for the Gallaghers for being such fuck ups. Makes them feel better about their families I guess. That's a good question! I want to be remembered for this interview, of course! It will be my legacy. I'm going to be unoriginal and ask you the same for the last question. Back to you, Aaron!

Aaron: I think we go to the same Whole Foods. Balance, for sure, but also, I'm a football player. As long as I'm not getting arrested or dating someone famous, people don't tend to care about me further than the football field. Dating Candice and Olivia definitely made my personal life a little less private. To feel better about themselves, to watch a mindless show where you can just switch your brain off after a long day. Those reality shows are not like Homeland where you have to pay attention and keep up, that's for sure. Can I be unoriginal and say same? #Same. Maybe be remembered for my wit or sense of humor. Or my Hail Mary's. Everyone loves a good Hail Mary, especially Packers fans. Anyway, this was fun. We either gave people some good, nonwholesome entertainment, or annoyed the hell out of them. Either way, I feel good about it.

Emmy: Ya think? Don't tell Norm I told you about us, we're trying to keep it on the downlow, I don't want to scare him off. Yeah, that makes sense. So basically as long as you date a nobody next, you'll be fine! We're going to go down for this interview, and you know what Aaron Rogers? I'm okay with that! Plus, maybe your Hail Mary's. Could be worse. Could be remembered for dick pics or something. This was super enlightening. We should make this a yearly thing or something--maybe a web series--who knows? The possibilities are endless at this point! But thanks for sitting down and talking to me, it was enlightening, to say the very least.

#scandalousinterviews #this was long hahahah me and holls are assholes #thank god I've been saving it this past week tho

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