#i think about moving away from TX because of this but the truth is i dont really have this kind of thing anywhere i would move to

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 32 is now available on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 32 chapters completed: 1.465M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here's a romantically fluffy snippet from Chapter 32 of a conversation Buck and Eddie are having while they dance in the living room.

___________

Once Eddie hears the introduction, he asks, “What song is this?”

“It’s “Blue Skies” by Noah and The Whale and I think it’s perfect because babe… for the past month and a half, we’ve experienced a lot of dark skies but I believe we’re finally about to see some blue skies.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Amore mio, what do you mean?”

“Well… the chorus of this song talks about blue skies are coming and I think that’s where we’re headed.”

They move to the center of the room, wrap their arms around each other’s waist and slow dance. When the leader starts singing verse one, Buck sings with him, “This is a song for anyone with a broken heart. This is a song for anyone who can’t get out of bed. Oh, do anything to be happy.”

Eddie gasps, he bites his bottom lip and tries to blink away his tears because he remembers it was just a few short weeks ago that Buck could barely get out of bed. On January 2nd, his heart rate lowered and he became unconscious and unresponsive and he thought he was going to leave him forever. Then Friday night, his heart stopped again but this time it was because someone tried to take him away. On Monday, he could barely get out of bed again but today, they’re in each other’s arms and they’re dancing like they used to and he’s so happy he can hardly contain it.

When his tears start rolling down his cheeks, he realizes he’s unsuccessful at stopping them.

Like always, Buck’s right there and he notices. He unwraps one of his arms, lifts his hand and wipes them away. Then he places soft kisses underneath both of his eyes and whispers, “I’m still here babe and I’m not going anywhere. EVER! I promise and I’ll never break your heart!”

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - After Buck resumes therapy, he’ll continue to face the fact that he “DIED” in March 2023 and during those sessions, he’ll learn about the 7 stages of grief. As he continues his healing journey, Eddie will be right by his side just like he promised and the Diaz family will start to deal with their three minutes and seventeen seconds loss as a family.

Chapter 28 - Two years ago, Eddie was asked, “What are you afraid of?”; twice, once by Frank and once by Buck but he only answered one of them without deflecting. Since that time, he’s been to therapy and him and Buck got married but the question resurfaces when Frank asks Buck the same question and Buck asks it of Eddie for the second time. However, when Buck asks, his reasoning will be about something else entirely.

Chapter 29 - After Buck and Eddie have an emotionally intimate conversation regarding their dreams, they make several decisions that will affect their future. When everything falls into place, they’ll realize one of those decisions will result in them no longer being work partners.

Chapter 30 - In 2018, Buck and Eddie met at the 118 and after some initial apprehensions on Buck’s part, they became work partners and they agreed to have each other’s backs. It’s been more than 6 ½ years, a lot’s happened, they got married in December 2023 and they have the family they both chose. With Eddie leaving the 118 in 3 months and Buck getting closer to moving past his grief, what will him losing his work partner mean for him?

Chapter 31 - As Buck’s life hangs in the balance from what’s suspected to be another bradycardia event, Eddie’s by his bedside, their son is being cared for by relatives and their found family is in the waiting room. During this time, many questions will surface that could possibly lead to the truth but will everything be revealed before it’s too late?

Chapter 32 - On January 2, 2024, the figurative skies over the Diaz family became gray and filled with storm clouds. Buck’s recent trauma, Chris’ school project and Eddie’s paramedic studies combined with the attack on Buck’s life, all those things contributed to the grief they’ve been experiencing. However, as the middle of February approaches, will the dark clouds dissipate so blue skies can return?

Chapter 33 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-32; they're available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[yoshistory]

honestly the only thing that worries me about getting sex reassignment surgeries is the fact that i dont know anyone who could be here to bathe and help me eat and watch over me and take care of the cats, etc while i recover from them

[watchyourdigits]

Eventually I'll do a write-up on the minor OCs in my fics. Perhaps build them their own little universes because they deserve it. Especially Alice and Eileen, my beautiful lesbian babies. Some backstory and faceclaims below for those who don't read my fics because I LOVE these two sm (general Night Letter ramblings as well below the cut, lots of rehashed stuff heh).

For those who don't read Night Letter, Frankie is my Sole Survivor OC. He's a gay (cowboy-adjacent) man born in TN. He was moved out to/raised in TX when he was ~4 by his father (who became an alcoholic) after his mom passed away while having his younger brother (who also didn't make it). He's got three older sisters who were very protective of him.

Frankie shipped up to Boston for the military after his dad caught him kissing boys & this lovely lady named Alice at a bar near her college/his station. They hit it off really well and found common ground in being closeted gays. They met up a few more times before deciding to get married to keep up appearances and maintain an "acceptable" social life. And also to appease both their families to remain in their respective inheritances, of course. Gotta do what you gotta do.

Eileen was Alice's live-in "friend". Or long-distance cousin, depending on the day. So far as anyone in Sanctuary Hills knew anyway lmao Surprise! They were partners and met in college. Frankie loved them both so so so dearly. They reminded him of his sisters back home, whom he missed constantly while settling down in Boston. Alice and Eileen doted on him furiously and were the only reason he stayed sane when Malcolm - Frankie's first true love that he met in the military - was killed in action. They kept him grounded.

Shaun was born from Alice and Frankie in the technical sense only. The ladies really wanted a kid together, and Frankie was willing & available to help with that (via sperm donation). He always felt more like an uncle than a father, and that's what they always called him: Uncle Frankie. I might be reconning my own fic here, in all honesty. I actually can't remember if I mentioned the term "uncle" specifically in Night Letter. Also I'm pretty sure I just said he was available to help in that department and never specified that he didn't fuck Alice!!!!!! ALSO he does strategically refer to himself as Shaun's father in the post-apocalypse because he thinks it legitimizes his cause to find him more than if he were just his uncle, saying it for the sake of emotional appeal to those he might need help from. You bet your ass he'll go back to being Uncle once Shaun is living with them :')

My FCs for Alice and Eileen are Elizabeth Taylor and Jane Powell (respectively) because I saw this one picture and couldn't help myself bc they are so goddamn cute

Do note: they are merely mentioned in the fic (posthumously obviously). I have ~problems~ because I have way too much in my head for them despite them not being relevant at all. Like how their first date was a total disaster because Alice stupidly suggested they get milkshakes. Alice does not like sweet things. Eileen does, but they're both lactose intolerant. Neither said anything because they were both just so nervous and trying to be romantic. The date itself was fine, but they couldn't meet up the next day because they were both SUFFERING. Both made elaborate excuses as to why they didn't show up, only to find the other hadn't showed either. They didn't talk about it, calling it a wash, and only found the truth out after two years of being together when wine drunk one night in Eileen's dorm room.

In other news, is it bad that I've considered making Eileen into a ghoul?? Alice was Frankie's legal wife so she was in the vault. But Eileen was out of the house when the bombs fell (not that she was registered for the vault anyway). I like to think she went ghoul instead of being struck from earth okay let me be 😭😭

Less important, but Malcolm (aka Mal, aka loverboy) and Frankie (aka Franklin Lee Barr aka don't fuckin' call me Franklin) are Sal Mineo and James Dean, respectively:

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings From Austin

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Word Count: 2616

Warnings: a/b/o, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway​​​​​​​

*images found online

Prologue

Austin, TX

Mid July

“Babe,” Jensen softly says in a low voice to the person seated next to him in the waiting room, “Babe,” he says a bit louder, still getting no response. Leaning close, he blows into their ear.

Jared starts, his “what” muffled by the finger he’s been chewing on.

“You know you can’t do that, don’t want you getting sick.” Taking his hand Jensen pulls it away from his pretty pink lips, gently caressing the finger. Jared had finally stopped chewing on his hands when Covid-19 became widespread.

“Where’s your gum?” Jared bite his lip not answering.

Sighing, Jensen shifts retrieving his pack and hands a piece to him. “What’s got you masticating again?” He inquires as Jared pops the stick in his mouth.

Jared chews the gum nervously weighing how to answer the question knowing Jensen won’t accept anything less than the whole truth. “What if something goes wrong again because of me.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed. He learned years ago that while their relationship is one of equals, he had to be lead Alpha when Jared’s mental state overwhelmed him as it had the last few weeks.

***

After the public announcement in March 2019 that season fifteen would be Supernaturals last, they had agreed when finished with the pickups they would take an extended break, return to Austin and concentrate on their marriage.

Jared intended to stop acting indefinitely, pursuing other interests and Jensen wanted to concentrate on his music.

Of course, things didn’t quite end up how they planned.

Jared entered negotiations to star in the Walker, Texas Ranger reboot, along with being an executive producer. Jensen got a call from Kripke wanting him for the role of Soldier Boy in The Boys third season.

But by March of 2020, everything came to a halt thanks to the Corona-virus.

The shutdowns left Supernaturals final two episodes with no definitive filming date and their seemingly never ending last season put their other projects on hold.

For the first time in years they had the luxury of a leisurely schedule, not having to be somewhere on a timetable, they could communicate with friends and family uninterrupted, deal with their other businesses, charities, etc, leaving most days free to enjoy being together without constraint.

But even amazing, awesome, vigorous sex on every horizontal/vertical surface that could support the two big Alphas only filled so many hours and like many couples, they started getting each others nerves and looked for other ways to stay occupied.

By late May, Jared was unable to sleep or eat, even going out of the house became a chore. When he hit a consecutive fourth day in bed, Jensen bodily dragged him into the bath for a desperately needed shower and loaded him in his truck driving to his doctor's.

Upon checking in they were told patients only allowed in the facility. Jared started panicking, saying he was having chest pains and couldn’t breath. He was rushed in with Jensen hot on their heels after morphing into an overprotective Alpha mate no one was stopping.

Jared’s doctor deduced with the lock-downs prohibiting him from his routine checkups and periodic adjustments needed to his medications triggered this episode.

The first step was to wean him off his current prescriptions and change to a newly approved, alternative regime. He was checked in a facility for ten days under observation while detoxing off his meds.

His therapist switched his twice weekly tele-counseling sessions to daily for the foreseeable future and Kodas certification as an emotional support animal was approved. His progress was slow but he was returning back to his sweet natured, big hearted, exceptionally tactical, overgrown puppy self.

When the surprise call from the clinic came a few days ago about an appointment opening, Jensen initially didn’t want it, still in his overly excessive protective Alpha mode. Jared’s outburst made him relent, fearing they were on a collision course for a major setback if he didn’t.

And Jensen, being Jensen, went overboard to ensure the appointment was absolutely private.

Part I

Jared was about to speak when a woman in scrubs called out, “Mr. Bonham and Mr. Page.” they got up crossing over to her, “Hello, I’m Sissy, Dr. Rodgers nurse, please follow me.”

They pass through the doorway leading through a maze of halls like that of any other medical clinic except this one specialized in a very specific service.

The nurse opens a door near the back of the clinic gesturing for them to enter the spacious office, “Please have a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly.” She closed the door and they sat down in the pair of chairs directly in front of the large, dark mahogany desk.

Jensen, scenting Jared’s nervousness, lifts his right hand kissing his palm, making him chuckle at the tickle of Jen’s soft beard before twining their fingers together and setting them on his left thigh, smiling reassuringly.

There was a brief knock before the door opened and an older, silver haired Beta entered. “Hello, I’m Dr. Rodgers, how are we doing today?” He asks, moving to his chair behind the desk.

Jared gave him a tight smile and Jensen remained placid.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, “Relax Mr. Page, this is just a visit to go over the paperwork before deciding about how we proceed, not the Spanish Inquisition.” Jared releases his held breath but couldn’t completely calm himself.

“I know the process can be overwhelming but I must ask, is there something we’ve done to make you uncomfortable?” Dr. Rodgers inquires.

“No, everyone’s been really nice, very professional. It’s just we..we had issues the first time we attempted to do this.” Jared finished his sentence quietly, in the recess of his mind; something bad is gonna happen and it’ll be my fault.

Jensen squeezes his hand tighter, instinctively sensing Jared’s mind was trying to spiral again, “When tried this before someone leaked our plans to the media. It wasn't ever proven the clinic was involved but...”

“We do everything possible to keep our clients anonymity protected here. All of our staff have been thoroughly vetted and sign NDA, given your professions, you're familiar with how they work. Your real identities will remain completely confidential, even if you choose to not proceed. It is why you chose this particular clinic, yes?”

“Yes, it is.” Jensen replied.

“How about we get this bit of paperwork out of the way, then we can have a more relaxed visit. I’ve gone over the applications you both submitted and have noted a few discrepancies in the medical section that need clarification before we proceed,” He opens the top file, “Mr. Bonham, why did you omit Genu Varum from your medical history?”

Jensen kept his expression neutral as he felt his stomach automatically clench. He had been mercilessly teased throughout his childhood about his bowed legs by his older brother Josh and later his buddies from school when they’d come over to hang out. By the time he was in high school Jensen’s extraordinary looks and personality were what got people’s attention first. Nowadays, many a fanfic waxed poetic about those bowed legs.

“The questionnaire inquired about inherited genetic medical conditions and since mine isn’t, I didn’t think it was necessarily applicable.” Jared hears an edge creeping into Jensen’s voice and gives their tangled fingers a quick squeeze.

“Did you see an orthopedist and were they able to determine what caused the condition? Did they suggest any surgical procedures or therapies to straighten your legs?”

“I was born a preemie, the orthopedists my parents consulted decided my condition was attributable to that.” Jensen replies tersely, dropping his vocal range. Jared gripped his hand harder, telling him to cool the attitude. “The doctor didn’t recommend surgery but sent me to physical therapy, thought it would help them straighten as I grew.”

“So no others in your immediate family have this issue?”

“Everyone my family has straight legs, including my three children.”

Jared piped in, “He hates it but he does have an exercise regimen; stretching, strength training. Oh, he also takes several different vitamins, omega oils, turmeric and extra vitamin D to support his joints.” They watched the doctor scribble a few more notes in the file before closing it.

“Mr. Page,” Jared sits up straighter in his chair, “I appreciate that you went into detail about your mental health status. I see you’ve recently been hospitalized, your medications have been changed to an alternative regiment and you’ve also increased your therapy sessions?”

Jared’s interview continued for another twenty minutes as Dr. Rodgers questioned him in depth about his depression and anxiety, feeling said anxiety ratcheting up so he focused on Jensen’s thumb rhythmically moving over his hand and used every ounce of his acting skills to appear confident and in control.

Dr. Rodgers closed his file, “I only have a few general questions left then we can discuss how you wish to proceed.”

After a more relaxed, genial conversation with the doctor, Sissy took them to a couple private rooms with paraphernalia to help stimulate them into producing a couple semen samples.

Jensen was getting close to finishing with his favorite spank-bank fantasy when he felt Jared’s frustration across their bond.

~~~

Jared couldn’t get aroused.

He felt as useless as his flaccid cock.

His doctor warned him that loss of sex drive could be a possible side effect of his new regiment until his body adjusted to it. He had struggled with temporary impotence a few times on his old meds, always fearful Jensen would finally see him as undesirable, no longer a satisfactory mate.

Rationally, he knew it was his illness causing these exceptionally hard to deal thoughts recently and the nagging idea this wasn’t the right thing for them to attempt again continually kept creeping in.

Jensen’s unspoken reluctance about having more children at his age was also weighing on his conscience, warring against his own biological longings.

They had a humongous argument when he told Jensen about taking the appointment. Jen thought this was the wrong time to attempt it again, pointing out he was just getting his equilibrium back setting Jared went off on a rant about how he no longer wanted him and would leave him like Genevieve had because he was too broken to deal with anymore.

Unmitigated anguish was written across Jensen’s beautiful features, the very notion that Jared could conceivably believe that he’d ever abandon him made his soul hurt in such a way no verbal language on earth could ever express his devastated feelings traveling across their bond.

***

Everything they’d been through; from that bar fight solidifying their friendship, Jared’s first breakdown, the years of living as roommates while secretly a couple to finding wives who understood their unique relationship and still married them both in 2010.

The joyous arrival of JJ three years later that unfortunately exacerbated Genevieve's frustration of not being able to conceive coming out with a vengeance at Jared. His unexpected breakdown in Switzerland was the final nail in their marriage. Gen was there for him but in the end it was all too much and she filed for divorce.

Shortly after, Jared’s iCloud account was hacked. It was believed, but never conclusively proven, that Gen was behind it since her lawyer was trying to break their prenuptial agreement, the videos documenting his private and explicit sexual relationship with Jensen were legally considered adulterous. In the end, the court upheld the legal document but the ramifications...

They were summoned to L.A. for the meeting from hell with WB executives, both convinced it was the end of Supernatural and their careers.

After the reaming out, they each received a weeks pay suspension to cover some of what it was gonna cost PR in time and money to deal with the inevitable repercussions and placate the show's sponsors.

How would the show’s fans react? Would they still be able to accept them as brothers only on TV while in real life they were involved in a highly stigmatized relationship?

When they returned to work there was an atmosphere of tension that hadn’t existed before. It was an open secret that all shows had their share of bitchiness and backstabbing behind the scenes. Jensen may have the thicker skin, keeping tighter control on his emotions, but Jared knew it hurt him just as deeply the loss of some of their friends because of prejudicial, social beliefs that two Alpha males shouldn’t be involved.

Jensen’s parents showed up unexpectedly in Vancouver a few weeks later. What started out as a not quite comfortable visit quickly deteriorated with his religiously conservative parents. They had not raised him like this and blamed Jared, saying he had corrupted him, leading him into a sinful lifestyle. He needed to repent and return to his wife to whom he had made a commitment before god.

Jensen blew up, replying it was none of their business, it was between them and oh, yeah, Danneel knew about them before marrying him and they better not say anything to her. Without another word his parents left. When he later called them to make amends, his mother coolly stated that he was no longer part of their family and to never contact them again.

Three months after the twins were born in 2016 came the finalization of Jensen’s divorce from Danneel, painful but congenial. They easily agreed on joint custody and still spent most holidays together. Jensen gave Dani financial security in their settlement, he wanted to make sure she didn’t have to worry about working again unless she wanted to.

All these years later, Jared continually has nagging thoughts that they had let everybody down. They received support when they publicly came out as bisexual then lost some of it when they married, being mocked for not coming out as gay.

***

There was another knock at the door and Jared ignored it, it was that nurse checking on his lack of progress again. The knock turned into pounding, “Jared, open this door now dammit!” He flinched realizing Jensen knew what was going on with him. Releasing the privacy latch and opening the door a crack he saw concerned green eyes only.

“Sorry, I thought you were that nurse,” he stepped away and sat back down as Jensen came in and re-latching it behind him. “She came to get me when you stopped answering,” Jensen said, walking over to him and started running his thick fingers through his husband’s long hair, “what’s going on babe?”

He glances up knowing that Jensen already knew, “It’s okay Jay, take as long as you need.” He paused at the unpleasant scent wafting around him. “If you’d be more comfortable we could do this at home…” Jared shakes his head, “There’s the risk of damage, contamination and or not able to get it back in time that could make the semen unusable.” Jared quotes from a website.

Jensen softly chuckled, “Nerd.”

Jared notices the bulge in his jeans, “You didn’t...”

“Drain the snake..choke the chicken..spank the monkey.”

“Fuck, okay, you didn’t! Stop using old man slang.” He shook his head smiling  at Jensen intentionally goading him.

Jared reached up for the hand playing in his hair, grasping it to draw Jensen down next to him.

“Jack, I don’t want to wait any longer on doing this. I love JJ and the twins, you know I do, but they'll always be yours and Danneels. I know the timing could be better... but I'm almost thirty-eight and I want my..our own pups running around the house driving us crazy.”

“For the next eighteen years?”

“Minimum.”

tbc

Part II

SPN: @donnaintx​​​​​​​​​​​​ @lyarr24

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

[jawritter]

The Arrangement

Part 12

Summery: You are a young girl that was raised in a small church in Dallas, TX. One of the only churches left in the state that still practices arranged marriages. When your betrothed ran off to California you thought you'd escape the fate you were trained for ever since a small child. Now upon the death your parents your fate seemed to be inescapable as he's returned, and is ready to take you as his bride.

Book Warnings: Arranged marriage, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex, angst, language, suicide attempt, battles with anxiety, struggles with mental illness, age gap (about 11 years), I think that’s it, chapters will have warnings of their own!

Chapter Warnings: Heavy trigger warning!!! Suicide attempt!! Angst, caught in your own head, feelings of abandoment, depression, grief, this one is rough guys.

Word Count: 2377

A/N: This book is a book about Christian and church based arranged marriages, I would like to take this moment to say that I DO NOT have ANYTHING against the Chirstian faith, and mean absolutely no harm to anyone! Especially Jensen’s family! This is a complete work of fiction, and should be treated as such!

Beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons who was awesome enough to do all this for me! It was a lot of work, and she deserves all the praise for it!!

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

It had been three days since your fight with Jensen. 

When he slammed the bedroom door after you had slapped him, he got his keys, walked out the door, and did not come back. 

You didn't know where he'd gone.You didn't try to contact him . If the truth were told, you hadn't really moved from your spot in your now cold, and very lonely bed, unless absolutely necessary. 

The air around you hung in a deafening silence . Who the hell knew silence could be so loud?

You didn't bother turning on theTV.You hadn't bothered to eat, and only drank a little bit of water. You’dsurvive, it just wasn’t there anymore. 

You were too big of a coward to take your own life, though the thought had crossed your mind. 

If you were dead, Jensen wouldn't have to be burdened with you anymore. He could go back to what he wanted to do. Not like there would be anyone around to miss you anyway. 

Still, you were too big of a coward to 'pull the trigger'. So you just laid there, and prayed for death to find you on it's own. Prayed that you'd drift off to sleep, and never wake up again.

It didn't happen. 

Every morning you woke up to a fresh, and even deeper pain; and the realization that Jensen probably wasn't coming home.

Sitting up on the side of the bed, you stared around the room. It was so cold, but you didn't care. It matched how you felt on the inside. You had cried until you didn't have any tears left to cry. Until everything in and around you felt numb.

In most homes, you would walk through the house and see pictures of your wedding day, family, friends; even your parents' home had all those things. 

This place had none of that for you and Jensen. 

You would see kids toys scattered around in some homes. You and Jensen had no children together, and Danneel had  three of his. 

This house felt 'lived in'. All your things were there, along with his, but even though it was lived in, it wasn't a home.

It didn't hold the feeling of home the way your parents house had. There were no memories of times with friends, no family dinners, or holidays, nothing.

You had fooled yourself into thinking this marriage with Jensen was a real marriage. Was even  stupid enough to let yourself fall in love with him. 

Now you were staring reality straight in the face. You had nothing together. You just shared a bed and had sex on occasion. 

Getting out of bed, you dragged your way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the sink, you stared at the mirror. You didn't  recognize the woman that stood there, staring back at you. 

Her eyes almost looked sunk into her skull. She was pale, almost a chalk white color. Her eyes were red and swollen around the eyelids. Her lips were cracked and had been bleeding, probably from lack of food or water. Her hair was an absolute mess. 

She looked like a dead person that was to stupid to know they had died. So they were still standing there.

That's what you felt like. You felt like you had died, you weren't really there. You were living, but you weren't alive.

You died the moment he walked out of the door.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw the look on Jensen's face after you had slapped him. Before the guilt could really grip you, the picture of Danneel and him locked at the mouth would flash before your mind, and shot down the guilt.

For a moment anyway.

The eternal war continued to rage on inside of you as you made your way back to the bed, pulling the cold sheets back and crawling in. You closed your eyes and begged whatever God was listening, cause at this point you weren't even sure there was one, to just let you die this time. You couldn't handle another day like this. Another day of crippling heartache, and a loneliness on a scale you could have never imagined existed.

Jensen's POV:

Jensen sat on the back porch of Jared and Gen's house, more than a little drunk. At first when he left the house the day of their fight Jensen had been angrier than he'd ever been in his life. He told her he loved her and she literally slapped him in the face. 

That anger quickly turned to hurt. 

Rejection wasn't something he was used to. Most women threw themselves at him willingly. That wasn't really it either. What was the real slap in the face was that Y/N didn't trust him, and didn't believe him, not only when he told her he did nothing wrong, but also when he told her that he loved her. That’s the part that hurt the most.

No matter how angry he got, he couldn't deny the feelings he'd come to accept regarding his wife. 

He'd picked up the phone, looking down at it, almost willing it to ring. Nothing. So for the hundredth time he called. It rang and rang. Nothing, only voicemail.

Slamming the phone down on the table, pulled at his hair harshly before he downed the rest of the scotch in his hand. He was well on the way to drinking himself into passing out for the third night in a row. It was the only way he could sleep without seeing the hurt look on Y/N’s face when she looked up at him from the kitchen table that day.

Jensen heard Jared pull the chair away from the table  he was sitting at, and sit down next to him. He didn't bother looking at him, just continued to stare at the empty dark pool in front of him.

Jared didn't really care for Y/N. He always thought she was just using his friend for his money, but right now, looking at his best friend and watching him literally try to drink himself to death, he wished more than anything she'd call and ask him to come home. 

He may not like her, but Jensen obviously loved her, and he didn't like to see him this way. 

"Jensen, what if I send Gen over there, check on her, get a feel for things? You can't keep hiding out here drinking man. You gotta fix this."

"I don't want Gen going over there, and making this shit worse. She doesn't know you guys, and the last time she was here you didn't exactly go out of your way to make her feel welcomed." Jensen mumbled, alcohol loosening his tongue to the point he wasn't worried about sparing feelings.

"You’re right, I didn't, and I'm sorry for that. I was just looking out for you, but Jay, man, if you love her that much you're not going to be able to sit here, and drink this mess Danneel has created away. You filed a restraining order, and you have the paperwork to prove it. Go show it to Y/N. Prove to her that it wasn't what it looked like."

Taking a deep breath, Jensen nodded his head. "Okay, yeah I got paperwork now. Maybe she will see I really don't want anything to do with that bitch."

Jensen blinked hard, trying to hold back tears that threatened at the edges of his eyes. 

"I can't lose her Jar. I just can't."

Before he could finish the sentence, Jared had reached up and grabbed his friend, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. 

"Let's get you some coffee, and something to eat so you can sober up.Then you need to go home and make this shit right Jay, for her, but also for yourself."

Your POV:

Day four of Jensen being gone dawned early for you. 

You had woken up once again, much to your dismay. Trudging your way to the bathroom you felt utterly numb, everything in you felt numb, from your insides, working it's way out. You had hit your breaking point. Your body craved Jensen's contact like a dying person craved oxygen, and to be honest you were tired of feeling the way you were feeling.

Thoughts rolled through your mind without your consent. 

Was he with Danneel? Was he sleeping with her now? Did he just abandon you because he didn’t care about you anymore? Why didn’t he come home? Why is this all happening to you? Why couldn't’ you have just been more like her? Maybe then he would still be here. Maybe then he could have loved you, the way you loved him.

Ever since your parents passed away, there was nothing in this world left for you that loved you. The church had abandoned you, you had no friends, now you didn't even have Jensen. Walking to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom you searched through whatever you could find to numb the pain. There was nothing. Not even a fucking Advil.

How was it possible to hurt so much, yet be so damn numb? It didn’t even make sense.

Staggering back to the bedroom, you began to search through drawers and night stands. Maybe there was something left that would kill this headache stashed somewhere.

Finally you found your prize. A full bottle of adult Motrin. 100 tablets in all, seal not even broken. Looking at the bottle you turn it over in your hands, taking four of them at once.... Then the thought hit you.

'You’re  not good enough for Jensen. Do him a favor, down this whole bottle and go back to bed. Then you will be out of his way. No longer a burden, and out of your own miserable existence.' 

Standing there just turning the bottle over in your hands, you weighed up your opinions. 

Yeah you were way too chicken to literally shoot yourself. This though, this was easy. Just take the pills, go to sleep. 

Your heart ached in your chest. You could still hear the sound of your hand connecting with his face, the sound of the door slamming to the bedroom, then the front door. Everything you've been through, this was it. This was your limit. You wanted out. This was the only way.

Grabbing a bottle of water you start taking fistfuls of pills. You don't know how many you finally successfully swallowed, but you finally got it down to only a small amount of pills left in the bottle when you just couldn’t take anymore.

Grabbing his notebook from the bedside table, and a pen you wrote quickly. 

‘I'm so sorry I was a burden to you. You can go be free now. I did love you. I'm sorry you couldn't feel the same.’

Sitting it down next to the bed, you crawled back under the covers, and waited for sleep, or death to take you. There was no turning back now, not even if you wanted to. Grabbing your phone you quickly googled a picture of him. He was smiling, happy. It was before he met you. You were doing this for him. He deserved to be free of you. Free to be happy. The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was his beautiful face. That's the way you wanted it....

---------------------------------------------------

Jensen's POV:

Jensen wanted to come home last night.Only problem was, he couldn't sober up enough, and he knew coming home to try and make things right between the two of you while drunk wasn't the best idea; so he slept it off and took off for the house as soon as the sun came up. Even though he had a pounding headache, and his stomach was in knots he didn’t care, hangover be damned, he had to make this right between the two of you. He couldn’t take the distance anymore. 

His heart hammered in his chest the whole way  home.Something deep down inside of him screamed something was very wrong, but he shoved it off, doing all he could to convince himself everything was going to be okay. 

Pulling up into the driveway, he saw no lights on inside the house. 'She must still be sleeping.' he thought to himself. 

Slowly, he made his way out of the door of the car and up the driveway. No sound was coming from inside the house, no TV, nothing. Which was normal while people slept, but something just didn't sit right in him. Something was wrong. 

Slipping his key into the doorknob, he unlocked the door and took a step inside the house, closing the door quietly behind him.

The only light in the house was the light coming through the windows. Still,he could see everything was the same as he left it when he walked out of the front door four days ago. His heart started to hammer in his chest loud enough to pulse through his ears.

Walking through the kitchen, he could still see pots on the stove she had taken out that day to start dinner, empty, and untouched. Walking through the bottom floor she was nowhere to be found. 

"God please let her still be here." he said to himself as he started to climb the stairs towards the bedroom.

The silence in the house seemed so thick he could cut it with a knife. Something was wrong. Every fiber of his being was screaming it. His breath was coming in short, quick bursts. Fear gripped him in a way nothing ever had before. Reaching the landing, he opened the door to the master bedroom slowly.

The lights were off in the bedroom, but he could clearly see her figure outlined underneath the covers. For just a moment he took a deep sigh of relief. She was just asleep. 

Closing the door quietly, he walked over to the side of the bed. Her back was to him, the covers pulled up over to neck.  Standing there looking at her he internally kicked himself for not coming home to her sooner. 

Reaching his hand out he brushed the hair away from her face. "Y/N?"

Nothing. She must be really asleep. Putting his hand on her shoulder. He shook her in earnest how. "Y/N... Baby wake up.. We need to talk..." 

Nothing... 

Something wasn't right.

His heart started to hammer in his chest again. He felt like he was taking his breath through a straw. Shaking hard, he reached over and turned the lamp light on by the bed. 

The first thing he saw as the light flooded the room was his notepad open, and her handwriting that was on it. 

‘I'm so sorry I was a burden to you. You can go be free now. I did love you. I'm sorry you couldn't feel the same.’

At first his mind couldn't compute... Then it started to sink in. Panic grabbing him tight in his chest as he ripped the covers off her, shaking her hard. 

"Y/N! Wake up!! Come on baby, please!!"

Putting his head down by her face he could feel no breath coming from her body.

His heart seized up in his chest, shaking her lifeless body in his arms, screaming inaudibly. 

He couldn't take the thought that she was gone. It was all his fault, he left her here, he abandoned her, he was all she had, and she took her own life because of him. 

Grabbing his phone from his pocket,his eyes blurred as uncensored tears poured down his face. Every breath seemed to come out as a scream.

"911, what is your emergency?"

Jensen tried to make his voice work, but all that would come out was strangled noises and screams. He held her close to him, desperately trying to wake her up.

"Sir, please calm down.. What is your emergency? I can't help you if you won't calm down.."

Taking a deep breath he was finally  able to make his voice work in a noise that wasn't a scream.

"My wife.. Please send help. I can't wake her up. I think she's..." 

He couldn't finish the sentence. Throwing the phone down on the ground without hanging up, he pressed her body as close to his as he could, burying his face in her hair, begging her, God, and whoever would listen that she would wake up for him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 27, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

This morning, the House Select Committee to Investigate the January 6th Attack on the United States Capitol began its hearings with testimony from two Capitol Police officers and two Metropolitan Police officers.

After Representatives Bennie Thompson (D-MS) and Liz Cheney (R-WY) opened the hearing, Sergeant Aquilino Gonell and and Officer Harry Dunn of the Capitol Police, and Officer Michael Fanone and Officer Daniel Hodges of the Metropolitan Police, recounted hand-to-hand combat against rioters who were looking to stop the election of Democrat Joe Biden and kill elected officials whom they thought were standing in the way of Trump’s reelection. They gouged eyes, sprayed chemicals, shouted the n-word, and told the officers they were going to die. They said: “Trump sent us.”

Lawmakers questioning the officers had them walk the members through horrific video footage taken from the officers’ body cameras. The officers said that one of the hardest parts of the insurrection for them was hearing the very people whose lives they had defended deny the horror of that day. They called the rioters terrorists who were engaged in a coup attempt, and called the indifference of lawmakers to those who had protected them “disgraceful.” “I feel like I went to hell and back to protect them and the people in this room,” Fanone said. “But too many are now telling me that hell doesn’t exist, or that hell wasn’t actually that bad.”

The officers indicated they thought that Trump was responsible for the riot. When asked if Trump was correct that it was “a loving crowd,” Gonell responded: “To me, it’s insulting, just demoralizing because of everything that we did to prevent everyone in the Capitol from getting hurt…. And what he was doing, instead of sending the military, instead of sending the support or telling his people, his supporters, to stop this nonsense, he begged them to continue fighting.” The officers asked the committee to make sure it did a thorough investigation. “There was an attack carried out on January 6, and a hit man sent them,” Dunn testified. “I want you to get to the bottom of that.”  

The Republicans on the committee, Representatives Adam Kinzinger (IL) and Liz Cheney (WY) pushed back on Republican claims that the committee is partisan.

“Like most Americans, I’m frustrated that six months after a deadly insurrection breached the United States Capitol for several hours on live television, we still don’t know exactly what happened,” Kinzinger said. “Why? Because many in my party have treated this as just another partisan fight. It’s toxic and it’s a disservice to the officers and their families, to the staff and the employees in the Capitol complex, to the American people who deserve the truth, and to those generations before us who went to war to defend self-governance.”

Kinzinger rejected the Republican argument that the committee should investigate the Black Lives Matter protests of summer 2020, saying that he had been concerned about those protests but they were entirely different from the events of January 6: they did not threaten democracy. “There is a difference between breaking the law and rejecting the rule of law,” Kinzinger observed. (Research shows that more than 96% of the BLM protests had no violence or property damage.)

The officers and lawmakers both spoke eloquently of their determination to defend democracy. Sergeant Gonell, a U.S. Army veteran of the Iraq War who emigrated from the Dominican Republic, said: "As an immigrant to the United States, I am especially proud to have defended the U.S. Constitution and our democracy on January 6.” Adam Schiff (D-CA) added: “If we’re no longer committed to a peaceful transfer of power after elections if our side doesn’t win, then God help us. If we deem elections illegitimate merely because they didn’t go our way rather than trying to do better the next time, then God help us.”

Cheney said: “Until January 6th, we were proof positive for the world that a nation conceived in liberty could long endure. But now, January 6th threatens our most sacred legacy. The question for every one of us who serves in Congress, for every elected official across this great nation, indeed, for every American is this: Will we adhere to the rule of law? Will we respect the rulings of our courts? Will we preserve the peaceful transition of power? Or will we be so blinded by partisanship that we throw away the miracle of America? Do we hate our political adversaries more than we love our country and revere our Constitution?”

House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) and Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) both said they had been too busy to watch the hearing. But the second-ranking Republican in the Senate, John Thune of South Dakota, called the officers heroes and said: “We should listen to what they have to say.”

Republicans are somewhat desperately trying to change the subject in such a way that it will hurt Democrats. Shortly before the hearing started, McCarthy House Republican conference chair Elise Stefanik (R-NY), who was elected to that position after the conference tossed Liz Cheney for her refusal to support Trump after the insurrection; and Jim Banks (R-IN), whom McCarthy tried to put on the committee and who promised to undermine it, held a press conference. They tried to blame House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) for the attack on the Capitol, a right-wing talking point, although she, in fact, has no control over the Capitol Police.

Shortly after the hearing ended, some of the House’s key Trump supporters—Andy Biggs (R-AZ), Matt Gaetz (R-FL), Louie Gohmert (R-TX), Bob Good (R-VA), Paul Gosar (R-AZ), and Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA)—tried to hold a press conference in front of the Department of Justice, where they promised to complain about those arrested for their role in the January 6 insurrection, calling them “political prisoners.” The conference fell apart when protesters called Gaetz a pedophile (he is under investigation for sex trafficking a girl), and blew a whistle to drown the Republican lawmakers out.  

This story is not going away, not only because the events of January 6 were a deadly attack on our democracy that almost succeeded and we want to know how and why that came to pass, but also because those testifying before the committee are under oath.

Since the 1950s, when Senator Joe McCarthy (R-WI) pioneered constructing a false narrative to attract voters, the Movement Conservative faction of the Republican Party focused not on fact-based arguments but on emotionally powerful fiction. There are no punishments for lying in front of television cameras in America, and from Ronald Reagan’s Welfare Queen to Rush Limbaugh’s “Feminazis” to the Fox News Channel personalities’ warnings about dangerous Democrats to Rudy Giuliani’s “witnesses” to “voter fraud” in the 2020 election, Republicans advanced fictions and howled about the “liberal media” when they were fact-checked. By the time of the impeachment hearings for former president Trump, Republican lawmakers like Jim Jordan (R-OH) didn’t even pretend to care about facts but instead yelled and badgered to get clips that could be arranged into a fictional narrative on right-wing media.

Now, though, the Movement Conservative narrative that “socialist” Democrats stole the 2020 election, a narrative embraced by leading Republican lawmakers, a story that sits at the heart of dozens of voter suppression laws and that led to one attempted coup and feeds another, a narrative that would, if it succeeds, create a one-party government, is coming up against public testimony under oath.

“The American people deserve the full and open testimony of every person with knowledge of the planning and preparation for January 6th,” Cheney said today. “We must also know what happened every minute of that day in the White House—every phone call, every conversation, every meeting leading up to, during, and after the attack.” She added: “We must issue and enforce subpoenas promptly.”

—-

Notes:

Manu Raju @mkrajuRep. Liz Cheney told me the Jan. 6 investigators should move rapidly to enforce subpoenas. She didn't specify who should be subpoenaed. "I think it is very important that we issue and enforce subpoenas, as the chairman has said, and we do that quickly," Cheney said1,091 Retweets5,401 Likes

July 27th 2021

https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a37144429/capitol-police-officer-slam-table-michael-fanone/

https://talkingpointsmemo.com/fivepoints/five-takeaways-from-the-first-jan-6-committee-hearing

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-capitol-security/police-recount-calamity-of-u-s-capitol-attack-at-panel-hearing-idUSKBN2EX12Z

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2020/10/16/this-summers-black-lives-matter-protesters-were-overwhelming-peaceful-our-research-finds/

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2021/07/27/one-republicans-jan-6-committee-went-out-his-way-rebut-his-partys-whataboutism/

https://www.npr.org/2021/07/27/1021161550/this-is-how-im-going-to-die-police-sergeant-recalls-the-terror-of-jan-6

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/07/27/us/jan-6-inquiry.html

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2021/07/27/jan-6-commission-hearing-live-updates/

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2021/07/27/liz-cheney-statement-jan-6-committee-probing-capitol-insurrection/5375885001/

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[css1992]

Damn, love your starker content. If you're looking for a prompt or something, I have one I think would be great for this pairing: TeenAU starker where Peter has braces and wants to give Tony a blowjob, even tho he's never done it before. Cue braces getting stuck followed by an embarrassing hospital trip or getting caught by someone. Tx for top tier starker.

First of all, I’m so sorry this took so long, I was having that worst writer’s block, I hope you can forgive me and I hope you’re still out there to read this! T.T Second of all, thank you so much for your kind words, sweetie, you’re too nice

High school AU, explicit, 18+

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: And even though he knew how he felt in his heart, he wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud, wasn’t ready to put it in so many words. He worried it was too soon, maybe Tony would freak out and leave, but still, he wanted to take a step further in their relationship, he wanted to show Tony how much he appreciated him. So he came up with a plan and it involved, well, his mouth. But he’d hesitated for too long and now he had freaking braces and he couldn’t help feeling a little insecure about them.

Warnings: mentions of bullying, mild violence (not explicit), anal fingering, oral sex, brief mention of blood. If you find anything triggering, please let me know!

-x-

“Come on, babe, there’s no way I’m not gonna like it, you’re beautiful, you couldn’t look bad if you tried.” Tony tried to pry Peter’s hands away from his mouth, but the younger teen held them tighter against his face, shaking his head firmly. “Please, for me? Just let me see it, you can’t hide forever, right? Get it over with.” Peter frowned, but then sighed, thinking to himself that Tony was right, there was no way he could hide it much longer anyway. Better rip that band-aid off. He took a deep breath, let his arms fall to his sides and smiled tentatively at his boyfriend. Tony held his face in his hands, thumbs stroking his cheekbones softly as he admired the metal wires and brackets on Peter’s teeth and that must have been the most embarrassing moment of his life. “You look so cute right now, you know that, right? I could eat you right up.”

“You mean it?” Peter whispered quietly, afraid that Tony would notice that he sounded funny, too, not yet used to how the braces sat against the roof of his mouth.

“Of course, munchkin.” He pulled Peter close and placed a sweet, warm kiss on his lips and it made the butterflies in his stomach go wild, but it quieted his nervous heart. He pulled away and smiled a little wider, if Tony said it was cute, then maybe –

“What’s wrong with your face, Penis? Looks like you had a fight with a cheese grater and lost.” Of course Flash wouldn’t leave it alone, Peter should have known. He closed his lips tightly and shrank against his locker, dropping his gaze to the floor, only to hear and feel Tony moving away from him and towards Flash.

“Wanna say that again, you little fucker? Come on, I fucking dare you, I’m gonna show you what’s wrong with your face, I’ll break your fucking teeth and no braces will be able to fix your ugly mug ever again, you fucking piece of shit.“ The boy kept pushing at Flash’s chest until he was cowering against the opposite wall and Peter jumped into action, pulling Tony’s arm just as other students started gathering around them in the hall, curious to see what the commotion was all about. Tony had already been suspended for punching Flash in the face not three weeks earlier, Peter couldn’t let him get in trouble again, he knew Tony’s father was… a complicated man.

“Tony, it’s ok, it’s fine, come on, leave it alone.” After a lot of pulling, he was finally able to get his boyfriend off Flash’s face. He didn’t waste any time and scurried away, yelling something over his shoulder that Peter couldn’t quite make out. Tony was fuming, face red, hands closed into fists. The younger teen peppered small kisses on his cheeks and lips to try and calm him down some, and finally the boy seemed to come back to himself. “It’s ok, I’m ok.”

“It’s really not, Pete, that asshole can’t talk to you like that, I swear to God, I’m gonna –“

“Forget about him, come on, he’s gone.” He stole a quick kiss from the older boy, who sighed heavily, burying his hands in Peter’s curls to pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

Peter still shivered and blushed at Tony’s eagerness and boldness. It was all pretty new to him, he’d never had a boyfriend before, just a few short flings. Tony, on the other hand, was – to put it mildly – very experienced. He’d dated pretty much all of the cheerleaders and a few guys on the football team. It was weird for Peter, kissing him in the halls, having Tony walk him to and from classes, sitting at the “cool table” in the cafeteria, having people that he’d never met in his whole entire life gossiping about him.  

Peter had heard so many stories about Tony before they got together that when he asked him out, almost four months earlier, he was sure it had to be a prank. There was just no way the Tony Stark could actually be interested in him, so, naturally, he said no. The older boy had looked so confused and shocked as he took a few steps away from Peter, all that famous confidence and cockiness completely gone.

“Oh,” he whispered, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking around the empty classroom he’d pulled Peter into. “I just – I mean, are you seeing someone else?”

“What?” Peter blushed, heart racing and palms sweating. He was so nervous, Tony was known for being a bit of a hothead, he always got into trouble for losing his shit and starting fights, Peter wasn’t sure if maybe he’d get angry because his prank didn’t work. “It’s not – I’m not seeing anyone, I just – I’m –” He stammered, not fully able to complete his sentences. To his surprise, the older boy didn’t get angry, he just ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and smiled in defeat.

“Is it because I got suspended last week? I swear, it wasn’t my fault, that asshole was bullying my friend. Bruce! You know him, right? He’s in the Decathlon team with you, ask him!” His eyes were wide, like maybe he’d found the reason why Peter said no, but then he quickly deflated. “Unless you just don’t wanna go out with me, which is fine, I mean, you don’t have to like me, I just thought – well, doesn’t matter.”

“Look, I know this is a prank.” Peter frowned, and Tony’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Excuse me?” The older boy looked at him like he’d grown a second head, and Peter thought maybe he’d pissed him off for good. “What, you think I’m some mean girl in a teen movie or something?”

“I just – why would you even ask me out, honestly? You don’t even know me and you’re always making fun of the Decathlon team and the school band – both of which I’m a part of, in case you don’t know.” Peter had noticed Tony was always at the Decathlon competitions and band practice, and he was always laughing and whispering with his friends, and Peter could swear that he sometimes caught him looking directly at him before whispering something to James Rhodes.  

“Ok, first of all, I don’t make fun of the team or the band, I just make fun of Bruce, but that’s because he’s my best friend and we like to mess with each other, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry. And yeah, I don’t really know you, but I’d like to, that’s exactly why I’m asking you out. You’re smart, talented, and it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes, to be honest.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. Peter felt his face burning and dropped his gaze to the floor. “There’s no evil plan, I just think you’re cute, is all.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? That you’re not messing with me?” He whispered, looking at him from under his eyelashes and, again, the older teen just shrugged.

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me, shortcake.”

And Peter did. For whatever stupid reason, he did. He didn’t really know Tony, just knew about him – knew that he was a certified genius, but also a troublemaker. He knew he was filthy rich, but he didn’t hang out with other rich kids, like Flash and Osborn, he was best friends with Rhodes, Pepper and Bruce, who, like Peter, didn’t come from money. He knew he was really popular and he dated around a lot, but he wasn’t an asshole about it – not that Peter knew, at least. He didn’t kiss and tell, he never slut-shamed anyone or leaked nudes of his exes, which was more than Peter could say about most guys in school.

So he gave it a shot, said yes and they went out for burgers. Tony was nice, funny and smart – but he was also sarcastic, short-tempered and a little arrogant. Peter wasn’t really sure how he felt about him after the date was over, but when he went to bed that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about him,  about his lips – couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss he’d dodged in his car when he dropped him home. Still, the older boy had smiled and kissed his cheek instead.

The next day, Peter was standing by his locker in between classes, talking to Ned and MJ about the movie marathon they were planning for the weekend, when he noticed the older boy approaching. Peter wasn’t sure if Tony would talk to him in front of the whole school, he had a reputation to keep and Peter was kind of a nerd, but not only did he talk to him, he also kissed his cheek as he greeted him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” he introduced himself to a very flustered Ned and an unimpressed and suspicious-looking MJ. The former just waved dumbly and made a weird sound at the back of his throat and the latter just nodded at him, acknowledging his presence. Tony didn’t seem to mind the weird interaction, just turned back to Peter and smiled. “Wanna grab lunch together today?”

And that was probably the very moment Peter started falling for him. Slowly, but surely. He insisted on carrying his books, walking him to class, sitting with him at lunch, he even drove him home most days, even though his house was nowhere near Queens. He was a bit of a hothead, yes, and he sure as hell was trouble – and May could smell it from a mile away when Peter introduced him – but he was also the kindest, sweetest, most amazing person Peter had ever met and he wished Tony would let other people see that.  

Peter loved him. At least he thought he did, he’d never been in love before, but he missed Tony like crazy whenever they were apart for more than five seconds; he cared if he ate properly and regularly; he worried about his health and safety all the time; he always thought about him whenever he watched rom-coms with May on movie nights; his heart fluttered whenever he was around and, more importantly, he just wanted to be with him, take care of him. All the time. If that wasn’t love, what else could it be?

And even though he knew how he felt in his heart, he wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud, wasn’t ready to put it in so many words. He worried it was too soon, maybe Tony would freak out and leave, but still, he wanted to take a step further in their relationship, he wanted to show Tony how much he appreciated him. So he came up with a plan and it involved, well, his mouth. But he’d hesitated for too long and now he had freaking braces and he couldn’t help feeling a little insecure about them.

But then Tony looked at him with those beautiful, soft brown eyes, smiled at him and stroked his cheek with such devotion, and all his insecurities melted away and he just wanted Tony to know how much he loved him.

“Hey, about this Friday,” he started, pulling away from the kiss. He was still self-conscious about how he sounded because of the braces, but Tony didn’t seem to notice anything different, at least he didn’t mention it.  

“What about it, short stuff?” He smiled sweetly, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him closer. He placed small kisses on his jaw and chin and the younger teen giggled, pushing him away without any force. Peter always refrained from pointing out that Tony was only a few inches taller than him – the older teen seemed so happy he found someone shorter than him to mess with,  Peter let him have his fun.

“So, you know how my aunt is dating this guy from work?” Tony frowned, a little confused, but Peter just kept looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah?”

“She told me yesterday that she’s going to spend the night at his place on Friday.” He tried to give his boyfriend a sexy smile, but then remembered that the braces would probably make it look silly, so he closed his lips quickly. Still, Tony looked very excited and interested when he realized what Peter meant.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, a lopsided grin of his own taking over his face.

“Yeah, so I thought – maybe we could order some pizza and you could, uhm, spend the night?” He dropped his gaze to somewhere around Tony’s chest, brushing off imaginary dust from his shirt, as his face grew hot, when he felt the older teen’s finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at him.  

“Pete… Are you sure?” He asked him firmly, serious, looking for a truthful answer, and Peter nodded.

“Just – uh, I’m not sure if I’m ready to go… all the way,” he whispered quietly, “but like – you know.” He blushed bright red, but Tony didn’t let him avert his gaze. He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything. I’m actually a great cuddler, did you know that?”

“Silly.” Peter laughed, slapping him on the chest, feeling a little less nervous. “So, is that a yes?”

“That’s a hell yes, baby face.”  

For the rest of the week, Peter couldn’t think of anything else. MJ stopped listening to him by Wednesday and just rolled her eyes whenever Peter mentioned anything Friday-related, but Ned was just as invested on the date as Peter was. He helped him pick an outfit, the perfect movie and even the pizza place they’d order from. He went as far as to send him articles about how to give good blowjobs and handjobs and Peter had to draw the line there – although he did read the articles and made some research of his own.

So on Friday, Peter waved May off, promised to be good – which she didn’t believe much – and hurried to make sure everything was perfect. His bed was made, his sheets were freshly clean and smelled like fabric softener, and there were so many pillows on the couch he wasn’t sure where they were supposed to sit, but oh, well.

He dressed casual, but Ned said he looked hot when he tried the outfit on earlier that week. He hoped he did. He wore gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that was a little tight over his chest – he didn’t have a broad, strong chest, but it looked ok. He fluffed his hair – Tony loved his curls – and tried not to give a lot of thought to the braces in his mouth, he still wasn’t comfortable with how he looked with them, but Tony always made sure to let him know he thought he still looked beautiful, so. There was that.

So when the bell rang, he took a deep breath, gave himself a little pep talk and opened the door. Tony was leaning against the doorway, looking sinfully sexy in black, ripped jeans and a leather jacket. He smiled at Peter and pulled him in for a kiss, and if the younger teen was already breathless just from looking at his boyfriend, that kiss almost sent him over.

“Hey, peanut. You look gorgeous.” He gave him a once over, as he put some distance between them, and Peter blushed slightly, slapping his chest.

“Come on in.” He opened the door further and Tony stepped inside, quickly getting rid of his jacket  and shoes, probably remembering that last time he was there aunt May almost bit his head off when he tried to walk into her living room in his combat boots.

“So, your aunt isn’t home?” He wondered out loud, taking a look around the apartment as if expecting aunt May to just jump from behind the furniture or something. It was funny, Tony was always on edge when she was around, trying to be a good boy, but she saw right through him.

“No, don’t worry, the coast is clear.” The younger teen smiled, sitting on the couch. The older boy quickly followed with a wicked grin, sitting close beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. Peter chewed his lips and turned on the TV, feeling his heart race in anticipation. “Do you want to pick the movie?”

“No, I’m fine with whatever you wanna watch.” Tony kissed the ball of his shoulder, slowly peppering kisses along his collarbone. Peter’s breath hitched and he knew the blush was surely going all the all way from his cheeks down to his chest.

“Uhm, are you hungry yet? I thought we could order some pizza.” He turned slightly to the side, noticing that Tony didn’t seem very interested in anything else besides ravishing the skin of his neck. “Tony,” he sighed.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, moving away a little to look Peter in the eye. The younger teen turned to look back at him, nodding slowly.

Tony smiled and closed the distance between them, pulling him by the neck to kiss him deeply, slowly. Time stopped right then and there, the room was silent, the sound of their lips moving together the only thing he could hear, the burning touch of Tony’s hands on his skin the only thing he could feel.

Funny thing was, no matter how nervous he’d been up until that moment, the second their lips touched, he felt safe, wanted, loved. He knew Tony wouldn’t do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, so he let himself go, melting into his arms like like it was the safest place in the world.

He felt the older teen wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him softly, and gave in, climbing into his lap to straddle his thighs. Tony grunted when he felt Peter’s ass press down onto his jeans-clad erection and bucked his hips up, hands sliding from his waist to his lower back to pull him even closer. Peter’s heated skin shivered as their chests touched and Tony bit his lower lip, before pulling him into a messy, wet kiss. The younger boy rocked his hips eagerly, whimpering against Tony’s bitten lips as he felt his own rock-hard cock rubbing against the older teen’s taut stomach, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Tony’s fingers ventured under his shirt, short nails scratching across the skin of his arched back, before lifting it slowly, as if asking for permission. It wouldn’t be a first, they hadn’t done much, but they’d had a few heavy make out sessions that usually ended with both of them shirtless – but not much more than that. Peter just raised his arms and let Tony take his shirt off, baring his chest, then went right back to kissing his neck, as the older teen moaned and rutted against his ass, his cock was so hard Peter could swear he could feel it pressing against his hole, begging for entrance, even through the many layers of clothing.

“Are you doing okay there, Pete?” Tony breathed into his mouth and the other boy shivered and nodded quickly, biting Tony’s chin and burying his fingers in his hair. The older teen’s teeth and tongue slowly made their way down his throat and towards his collarbone as Peter threw his head back, closing his eyes to concentrate on the feeling of his fingers squeezing the soft flesh where his hips met his ass. “I wanna try something. You trust me?” He placed soft kisses on his chest, then his tongue found one of Peter’s perked-up, sensitive nipples and he gasped, nodding frantically. “Good.”

His hands slid lower to Peter’s ass and he squeezed roughly, kneading his cheeks as he mouthed at his nipples, alternating sloppy, wet kisses with sharp, gentle nibbles, which drove the younger teen mad with want and turned the small nubs an angry red. It almost distracted him from the fact the Tony’s hands were now making their way down the back of his pants and underwear, skin to skin, the rough pads of Tony’s fingers scratching his soft flesh.

Okay, that’s new, Peter thought, and he liked it. He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip, as Tony sucked bruises on his collarbones, his fingers slowly making their way to Peter’s crack, until one of them pressed directly against his rim, touching it, but nothing else, and his breath hitched. He pulled away a little, looking down at the other teen’s face.

“Tony, I’m – I don’t think I’m –“

“Don’t worry, it’s okay, I know you’re not ready. I just wanna make you feel good, ok? Promise.” He kissed Peter’s chin softly, which made the younger boy sigh, eyes fluttering closed, as he nodded his head. “Let me know if you want me to stop, ok? Anytime you need to stop, just say the word.” Tony whispered against his pulse point and, again, Peter nodded, and then he felt the finger pressed against his hole start to move slowly, just rubbing circles against the puckered skin and Peter was so confused, because it felt fucking amazing. And dirty. And wrong. And right.

He felt Tony moving underneath him and he knew he wasn’t just rutting against him – which he was, too. He saw him take something out of his back pocket with his other hand, then the pressure against his hole disappeared, and Peter whined loudly in complaint, then blushed furiously in embarrassment. Tony smirked at him, licking his lips.

“Patience, padawan.” He placed a kiss on his chin, then Peter heard him uncap something and when he looked down, he noticed Tony was holding a tube of lube. His fingers tightened on Tony’s shoulders and the older teen looked up at him. “Hey, what did I say? Do you want to stop?” Peter shook his head quickly, holding Tony’s face in his hands.

“I trust you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss him, and as soon as their mouths made contact, he relaxed again.

Tony held him close, deepening the kiss, and for a few minutes, that’s all they did. Peter rutted slowly against Tony’s stomach and the older teen rolled his hips in time with him, as they kissed and kissed like time meant nothing – and it didn’t. It really didn’t.

At some point, he felt the other teen’s hands sliding again down the back of his pants, he could feel his fingers were wet and colder than a few minutes earlier and he braced himself for what he knew was about to come. At first, Tony just rested a digit against his hole, rubbing it gently, not applying any pressure, and once the younger teen relaxed completely, muscles going lax, he felt one finger try to breach him.

“Umf, Tony,” he whimpered, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, why he was calling his name, he just wanted to say it. The older teen shushed him, warm, wet lips pulled his earlobe into his mouth, nibbling lightly as his finger sunk in deeper and deeper into Peter. “Oh, fuck.”

Peter had fingered himself before, but it was so fucking different from having someone else – Tony – do it to him. It felt so dirty and intimate, like Tony had all this power over him, like there was nowhere he couldn’t touch, nothing he couldn’t do, like Peter’s body belonged to him. It felt exhilarating and scary and fucking awesome and hot – so fucking hot.

Peter gasped when Tony’s finger was completely sheathed and curled inside him. It burned a little and he felt impossibly stretched, but so good at the same time, a delicious kind of pain irradiated from his lower back all the way up to the back of his neck, where his hair stood on end. He closed his eyes and pushed his hips back against Tony’s hand, silently begging for him to move. The older teen didn’t waste any time, as his finger slid out slowly, then slid back inside a little quicker and surer than before, sending shivers down Peter’s spine.

The boy started rolling his hips in time with Tony’s movements, literally fucking himself on his finger, making sure to rub his leaking cock against the older teen’s stomach and his ass on Tony’s impossibly hard cock, until he felt his finger touching someplace in him that sent him to heaven and back in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, fuck, Tony, fuck.” He wrapped his arms around the older teen’s neck and clung to him like a drowning man, soft moans and whines leaving his lips unsolicited as the finger moved and moved and pushed against that bundle of nerves so deliciously, and Peter’s cock was so hard and pressed so tight against Tony’s abs and Peter really wanted to hold out, he needed to, didn’t want it to be over so soon, but fuck –

He came with a cry, nails leaving angry red marks on Tony’s neck as the older teen pulled him into a rough, hungry kiss, biting his lips and licking his mouth like the world was about to end. Peter let him, let him take control of his body and ownership of his mouth as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, thinking that there was no way he could ever feel so good ever again in his whole entire life.

He sagged against Tony’s body when he was done, completely spent, and felt him wrapping his arms around him tightly, like Peter was gonna fly away – and maybe he would, who knew – as he peppered small kisses down the side of his face and slowly withdrew his finger, leaving the younger teen painfully empty.

“Tonight was supposed to be all about you, I had a plan,” Peter mumbled after a few silent minutes, pulling away a few inches to look into Tony’s glinting eyes. The older boy grinned, holding his face in one hand to pull him into a kiss.

“Well, I had plans of my own. I guess great minds think alike.” He butted his nose against Peter’s lovingly and the younger teen smiled.  

“I guess,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss Tony again. A little roll of his hips revealed that Tony was still rock-hard and Peter took a deep breath, before pulling away, getting off his lap. Before the older teen could ask what he was doing, he was on his knees, between his spread legs, and Tony reached out to hold him by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey, hey – you don’t – you know you don’t –“

“I know.” Peter smiled again, unbuttoning his jeans carefully. He tried to remain calm so his fingers wouldn’t shake so much and Tony wouldn’t notice how nervous he was.

“Pete,” he tried, but before any more words could leave his lips, his hard cock sprung free from his jeans, which caught Peter by surprise. First, because he didn’t expect Tony not to be wearing any underwear; and second, because – fuck – he knew Tony would be big, he’d cupped him through his jeans many times before, but still – “Fuck.”

Peter took a deep breath, trying to remember everything he’d read online over the week. He closed his eyes and placed tentative kisses on the tip of his cock and down his shaft, and he heard Tony cuss under his breath, melting into the couch. It made Peter a little more confident, so he took the tip into his mouth, surprised when he felt his cock growing even bigger and heavier against his tongue, as Tony moaned loudly, hands gripping the pillows around him.

Peter hollowed his cheeks and started sucking, trying to take a little bit more of his cock into his mouth, slowly. When he was reading about blowjobs, he was afraid he wouldn’t like it, or that maybe he would gag in the middle of it, but it was actually making him hard again, seeing and feeling how turned on Tony was by his mouth on him.

He placed a hand on his heavy, tight balls, fondling them carefully, as he tried to take more of his cock into his mouth. He could almost feel the tip reaching the back of his throat, but before it did, he started pulling back, which it was enough to make Tony moan and thrash underneath him. He smiled, lips stretched wide around the other teen’s thick cock, then decided to try and take him in a little further. It was all going perfectly fine when suddenly he felt like he couldn’t keep going, like something had stuck –

“Aw, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Peter was so shocked by the sheer desperation in Tony’s voice that he immediately tried to pull away, but Tony’s hands flew to his head, holding him in place. “No, no, no, no, no! Fuck, Pete, it’s – ah, fuck, God, it fucking –“ that was when Peter realized what was happening.

“Umf,” he was mortified, he could feel tears burning behind his eyelids as he shut his eyes tightly, not sure what to do once he realized Tony’s foreskin was stuck in his braces and it must hurt like a motherfucker, because Tony had gone soft almost immediately, as he panted and gasped for air, hands holding Peter’s head firmly in place, terrified that he’d try to move away.

“Hold on, hold on – lemme just –” he could barely finish his sentences, completely out of breath, and Peter’s face was wet with tears at that point, and he was also a little breathless. He felt Tony’s fingers in his mouth, trying the free himself carefully, but Peter could taste blood on his tongue and fuck if it wasn’t the worst night of his whole entire life. “Ah! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Finally, he felt Tony pushing his head away as he fell sideways to the couch, both hands covering his dick as he buried his face in the cushions, trying to stifle his cries.

“Oh, my God, Tony, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” Peter didn’t really know what to do, he didn’t even know if he should try to touch his boyfriend, he looked like he was in so much pain maybe he wouldn’t want him to, so he he sat there on the floor, frantically trying to think of what to say. “I swear I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry!”

“I know, baby, I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” but the way Tony was breathlessly whispering that into the cushions made it very clear that it was not okay.

“Jesus, Tony, what – I don’t know what to do!” He cried, panicked, and the older teen took a deep breath, raising his face a little to look at Peter, and his face was so fucking red and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Ice, babe. Get me some ice, it’s gonna be fine, I promise, ok?” He was breathing a little easier by then and Peter nodded frantically, as he got to his feet and hurried to the kitchen to get an ice pack. He hurried back in record time and Tony turned on his back, taking the pack and quickly placing it on his lap, letting out a heavy sigh as he did. “Tony, should I take you to the hospital?” He asked, standing by the couch and looking down at his boyfriend, who winced.

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed with his eyes closed, but it didn’t calm Peter down, not even a little bit.

“Tony, I tasted blood!” He cried, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and Tony reached one hand out for him to take.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just a tiny cut, I promise. It’s just really sensitive right now, but it’s gonna be fine in a couple of minutes, I promise.” Peter didn’t want to take his hand, he wanted to run and hide, but he also didn’t want to be alone, or away from Tony, so he lay by his side, burying his face in his neck and clutching his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Tony, this wasn’t supposed to happen, I should have known, I shouldn’t –“

“Peter, it’s fine, I promise.” They were silent for a few seconds, until Peter felt Tony’s chest trembling under his cheek. He looked up, worried that his boyfriend was crying, but he was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes – again. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe this just happened,” he laughed harder, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s not funny.” Peter was so embarrassed, he wished he could bury his head in the dirt and never have to look at his boyfriend again.

“It is a little funny,” Tony managed to say as he laughed his ass off and Peter tried to get up, annoyed, but the older teen held him. “Hey, what’s the matter?” He frowned, a little confused, as he tried to stifle his laugh.

“I wanted to make you feel good, I wanted tonight to be special, and I blew it, all because of these stupid, ugly braces, I don’t even know why you’re still here after this catastrophic disaster!” He knew he was being a little dramatic and maybe he was overreacting, but he just really wanted the night to go well, and it was ruined.

“Hey, c’mon, we did have a good time. Tonight was special, is special. We’re gonna order a huge pizza, we’re gonna binge watch all Marvel movies, and if it makes you feel any better, you can kiss my pee-pee better before we go to bed, what do you say?” He smiled that stupid, beautiful smile of him; soft, brown eyes glinting with mirth.

Peter stared at Tony’s face, thinking about the absurdness of that night, thinking that what was supposed to be a hot date night ended with Tony holding an ice pack to his bleeding dick, trying to comfort Peter for basically almost biting it off. He was silent for a few seconds, contemplating all that madness, before he exploded into a fit of giggles.

“God, I love you,” he blurted out breathlessly, almost without thinking, but as soon as the words left his mouth, his face turned red and his eyes widened, panicking. Before he could take it back, though, Tony smiled softly and winked at him, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I know. I love you, too, brace face.”

[georgia-jereau]

Endings & Beginnings

TW: mentions of drinking, drugs, violence and theft

TLDR: Georgia remembers meeting Mal again and marrying him after 5 weeks, leaving her old life behind to make something new with him

Georgia drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove home from a meeting in New Orleans. She’d dropped Mal at the airport a few days ago, so hopefully he’d be back soon. It was a long ride, and a little bit of her wished she could have gone with him, but she couldn’t be in that house again with him. Still, maybe in a few months, they could take a trip like they’d used to. It would be nice to go and get lost with him again. Georgia had always liked herself better when she was with him, and recreating herself for the past seven years into a woman who could survive being alone hadn’t been easy, not when she knew the truth.

The song on the radio switches to something older and familiar that makes her think of crowded bars and Mal’s smile. God, they had been so young. Twenty years ago, she’d just flirted with a guy she liked... thrown herself at him a bit, really. Now here she was, waiting for him to come home to her, his initials tattooed into her skin, and his ring on her finger. A part of wonders, as she sometimes did, if she had known everything that was going to happen if she might have made different choices. A small smile pulls at her mouth. No. The answer was always no. If she was going to hell, she’d go with the comfort of knowing Mal would be right beside her.

Dallas, TX - August 4th, 2000 

Georgia checked her reflection in the motel bathroom’s mirror, fluffing her hair and turning slightly to see how she looked. Her hair was getting long again, nearly reaching the middle of her back even when it was all wavy from the Texas heat. She’d turned an oversized red bandana into a top, which was something she was pretty sure she’d stolen from a music video but she couldn’t remember which one. Paired with daisy dukes and red lipstick, she thought she looked pretty good, good enough that the bouncers wouldn’t give her fake id too thorough of an inspection anyway. Reaching into her backpack, she moves aside her dirty laundry to get at the stacks of cash beneath. Fifteen thousand in cash. God, her last ‘boyfriend’ had been a special kind of idiot, always talkin’ about conspiracy theories and how he’d been prepped for Y2K even though nothing had actually happened. It had taken practically nothing to starting convincing him that banks couldn’t be trusted. She’d hoped to wait around for twenty thousand, but she’d lost her patience with him. This would last her for a good long while. Peeling a few twenties away, she tucks them into her pockets and then stuffs the whole backpack into a hole she’d made in the boxspring.

The bar was just a few blocks down from the motel and Georgia didn’t mind the walk after days spent driving all the way from Kentucky. There were a few shouts, a few catcalls, but she ignored them. She was definitely not looking for a new mark tonight. Tonight, she was happy just to drink and listen to music and not have some man hanging all over her. Some people would probably think she was awfully cynical of men for being just 19 years old, after all she’d only been dealing with them for five years. Still, those were years she’d spent dating morons who she only entertained because of their money. That didn’t even cover all the other jobs she’d begun taking up on the side. If she became good enough at being a thief, maybe she could even drop the whole ‘boyfriends’ thing. She was very good at it though. Most men were very stupid, hell they didn’t even ask her how old she was half the time. For a brief moment, Georgia’s mind flickers to a moment a few years back, where a boyfriend had mentioned her ‘twentieth’ birthday was coming up soon and one of his, for lack of a better term, ‘friends’ had snorted quietly to himself, clearly laughing at the number.

“Somethin’ funny?” she’d asked, pulling herself up from where she’d been draped all over Tim, her latest, unwitting victim. The man just looked over at her and shook his head once.

“Not a thing, darlin’.” he’d said, at least that’s what he’d said out loud. His eyes had said ‘bullshit you are turning twenty’. That man had made her uneasy. Handsome, but he saw too much. Dark eyes, sweet smile. Trouble. 

She liked trouble.

As she’d suspected, the bouncers didn’t have a problem letting ‘Georgia Lyonett’ into the bar tonight, or whatever the hell ID she’d grabbed. The only stipulation she had with her fake identities was to always use the same first name. If she started creating fake personas every time she went somewhere she’d never remember who was supposed to call her what. Hopping onto a barstool she flashed a smile at the bartender, glancing briefly behind him at the array of liquor bottles. “Hey there.” she said brightly. “Jack and coke, please.”. The drink was delivered promptly, and she immediately turned away from the bartender, not interested in small talk. Across the room, on a small raised platform, a band was finishing setting up and the place was really beginning to fill. After downing the first drink pretty quickly, she ordered another and hopped off the barstool to wander around. 

The band was good, local guys covering the classics so nothing fancy, but fun all the same. A few guys asked her to dance, but she slipped away before they annoyed her and asked twice. Georgia preferred to just stay on the edges of the action tonight, in her own little world as she bobbed and nodded along with the music. Maybe she was thirsty or just getting tipsy, but the drinks were going down smooth. Navigating her way through the crowd, she made her way to the bar, squeezing herself between a couple and some guy in a biker’s cut so she could order her drink. “’Nother jack and coke please. Tall, double.” she added, figuring she might as well save herself a trip. The man beside her laughed quietly and she froze, recognition flaring to life in her mind.

“Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh Peach?” Mal asked. Of course it was him. She didn’t even need to turn her head. He was the only person who’d called her that, as if ‘Georgia’ was too many syllables or something. The smile that appears on her face isn’t a conscious choice. She feels... nervous wasn’t the right word... excited maybe? Adrenaline was definitely happening. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she rested an elbow on the bar and finally looked at him. 

“Mal Winters.” she said, fighting to control her smirk. “The fuck are you doing in Dallas?”

“Visiting. Where’s Tim?”

“Haven’t seen him in years.” Georgia admitted casually as her drink was handed to her and she took a sip. Mal adjusted himself to face her a bit more and Georgia felt her heart rate quicken. It wasn’t fair for a guy who looks this good to look at her like that. Normally, if she were looking to find a new job she’d be a bit more sober and a bit less, well, herself. Luckily, she had enough money right now, that she didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but her which was good, because she had a feeling Mal could see through her bullshit a little too easily for her liking.

“Really?” Mal said, and his eyes raked over her in a way that made her flustered and proud at the same time. Reaching out, she poked at the cut he was wearing, something she definitely hadn’t seen on him two years ago when they’d met.

“What’s this?” she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder, her dime store hoops dangling from her ears. So he was a biker now... or something like it. A little smile pulled the edge of his mouth up and her eyes got stuck there for a moment.

“It’s nothin’.” he said easily. Georgia rolled her eyes and moved slightly to get a better look, running her hand over the patch.

“Doesn’t look like nothin’. Looks to me like you like trouble.” she said, biting her lower lip as she smiled at him. Mal shook his head and lifted his beer a bit.

“Yeah, well, I’m drinkin’ with you, aren’t I?” he asked. Georgia laughed and shook her head a bit, taking a sip of her own drink. She liked that he thought of her as trouble. She’d have been insulted if he thought less.

“If you want to see real trouble, you should ask me to dance.” she offered, leaning a bit closer. It was nice to flirt for real. It had been a really long time since she had, hell, it might have even been the last time she’d seen him. Though that flirting had been accidental. Plus, there was the bonus that they already knew the other wasn’t exactly an ‘upstanding citizen’. The lack of bullshit was refreshing. She didn’t need to bat her eyes or pretend that she was a waitress or a student or something innocent and innocuous. 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Peach.” Mal said.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Mal.” she countered, flagging down the bartender who made a motion to say he’d be right there.

“Yeah? You not into bein’ bossed around?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Not when I’m standing.” she said with a playful smirk before turning and ordering two shots of whiskey, handing over some money as she did. It was getting to that time in the night where she had to lean forward and practically shout to be heard, but she didn’t mind. 

“So when you say you wanna dance, d’ya mean the horizontal fuckin’ tango?” Mal asked, and Georgia couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of her, glancing over her shoulder to look at him.

"Maybe I mean both. Jesus, there's no fuckin’ subtlety to you, is there?" she asked, tipping her head and studying his face. He tipped his in return and narrowed his eyes a bit.

“Would ya’ like me more if there was?”

“Who says I like you now?”

Mal shrugged his shoulders. “Guess I’m just being optimistic. I mean, if you wanna prove me right, go ahead.” he offered.

Georgia rolled her eyes and grabbed the shots as they were delivered. "Drink with me. Dance with me. Then I'll decide if I like you or not." she said, handing one of the shot glasses to him, her heart rate only increasing when her fingers grazed his. Mal nodded his head.

“Yes ma’am.” he said. They both knocked the whiskey back easily before Georgia took his hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. She was pretty sure he knew it was just an excuse to have his arms around her for a bit while they drank and pretended like they both didn’t know how this would go. There was no doubt in her mind that she was gonna try to take him back to where she was staying tonight. Crushes weren’t things she had often, and couldn’t remember the last one she’d had, but she had a feeling thats what she was feeling. As his hands settled on her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck, pressing her body closer, she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks and her breath hitched a bit as she remembered to breath. “You good, Peach?” Mal asked, smiling down at her.

“Do I not look good?” Georgia asked, wondering if there was going to be a point tonight where she stopped answering his questions with questions, but it probably wasn’t going to be anytime soon. She was having too much fun.

“I don’t recall sayin’ otherwise, sweetheart.” he said, tightening his grip on her as they swayed to the song. It was one of those old, country classics that she usually didn’t care for but everything sounded good when it was mixed with Mal’s laugh and the way he spoke to her. They danced, they drank and eventually she took him back to her motel. It was just going to be one night, maybe two, and then she could savor the memory of it the next time she was lying beneath some idiot, letting him pretend he was rocking her world while she planned how she was going to rob them blind. 

Somewhere in Arizona - September 4th, 2000

Georgia paced a bit out front of a gas station, stretching her arms above her head and rolling out the knots in her back from the hours on the back of Mal’s bike. She’d abandoned her piece of shit car back in Dallas, technically. It hadn’t exactly been on purpose, since she’d made the choice after a night of drinking and blowing lines with Mal. Georgia had only meant to get him tangled in her sheets for a night, but then that had turned into breakfast, and another roll around at his place, then more drinking, then some drugs. She kept waiting for him to leave, or for herself to get bored... but it hadn’t happened yet. It had been four, shit almost five weeks since she’d run into him and now she was somewhere in Arizona waiting while he went to get cigarettes. They were nearly inseparable. Her backpack with all her things and all her money were latched securely to his bike. They spent the days driving around and the nights at whatever motel they wound up in, drinking and laughing and kissing. It felt like freedom.

It was safe to say they were obsessed with each other. Georgia smiled to herself as she tried to detangle her hair a bit with her fingers while she waited for him. The tangles were as much from the wind as from Mal’s hands and the bed they’d crawled out of this morning. Distracted with her own thoughts her eyes lingered on his bike and the smile just widened. She didn’t notice someone approaching her until they were in front of her.

“You like motorcycles?” the guy asked, looking her up and down. Georgia’s smile tightened and lost some it’s sparkle as she looked at the guy.

“I do. Yeah.” she told him. The guy rested his hands on the handlebars and grinned at her.

“I could give you the ride of your life.” he offered, his eyes more focused on her body than the bored look on her face.

“You want me on that bike of yours? With you?” Georgia asked, playing dumb and tipping her head to the side. The guy laughed a little.

“Baby, I-” the guy said, but he stopped suddenly, his eyes moving off of Georgia to someone else. The strong arm that slipped around her shoulder and pulled her in closer had her struggling not to burst into laughter. 

“He botherin’ you, Peach?” Mal asked, his voice far too casual for her to believe it. Georgia knew if she said ‘yes’ Mal would probably lay the guy out and God that excited her. It was like having her own personal gladiator by her side at all times and she was getting far too used to it. 

“Baby, I think we stole his bike.” Georgia said, blinking up at Mal with wide eyes and feigned innocence. Behind his dark sunglasses, Mal’s eyebrows raised and his mouth twitched into a small ‘huh’ of surprise.

“This - this is your bike?” Mal said, his voice coated with a mocking disbelief as he took off his sunglasses and then pointed to Georgia. “So this - this must be your old lady too?” he asked the guy, who was holding up his hands and stuttering out some kind of excuse. ‘Old lady?’ Georgia thought. She was hardly his old anything seeing as they’d been doing this just about a month. Georgia leaned up and said softly but still loud enough for the interloper to hear, 

“Wasn’t his name I was screamin’ last night, baby.”

She then took the sunglasses and smokes out of Mal’s hands, knowing he was probably just gonna drop them in a minute anyway. He was already stepping forward. 

“It wasn’t? Ah. So that means this is my bike, and this jackass is hitting on my girl?” Mal said. The guy had gone from apologizing to talking shit, like an idiot, and Georgia just shook her head and smiled as Mal slammed his fist into the guy’s face. The rings on his fingers glinted in the Arizona sunlight with each movement. A thought popped into her mind just then and she shoved the sunglasses onto her face as she ran into the nearly empty shop.

“Help! They started fighting! Someone is gonna get hurt! You have to stop them.” she shouted pleadingly. The guy behind the counter and some guy that looked like a trucker rushed outside to help. Georgia moved to let them pass and then walked around the counter and popped open the register. Jesus, the lack of security in these places was astonishing. People thought they were only going to be robbed by dudes in ski-masks with a gun in their face. Clearly a shotgun behind the counter was not a fail-proof method against having your shit stolen.

A few moment later she was walking over to Mal who was finally done with his fight. There was some blood on him, but she doubted much of it was his, and he wore it well so it didn’t matter much anyway. Georgia waved a finger to signal they needed to get the fuck out. Now. He listened but quirked an eyebrow at her.

“They call the cops?” he asked quietly as he threw a leg over the bike.

“No but they’re gonna.” she said, climbing on behind him.

“I just loosened some teeth, maybe broke his nose, nothing that bad.” Mal grumbled. Georgia leaned up so she could whisper directly in his ear.

“I just robbed the till.” she admitted. Mal burst into laughter as he started up the bike and peeled away, and didn’t stop laughing until they were miles away from the place.

Later that night, outside a motel they’d rented with the stolen cash, they sat on the curb and split a cigarette and a six pack, watching the traffic and the stars. Georgia’s hair was once again a mess of tangles and her face was a bit flushed from what they’d just done. 

“You know earlier today, you called me your ‘old lady’.” Georgia noted, glancing at him only briefly as she took a drag and passed the cigarette back to him.

“Mhmm.” Mal hummed as he finished the cigarette and stubbed the end of out beneath his boot. He took a moment to exhale before turning to look her over, curious. “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

Georgia smirked but rolled her eyes. “I’m not your old lady ‘til there’s a ring on this finger.” she said, wiggling the fingers on the hand that wasn’t currently holding her beer bottle. Georgia liked the idea of keeping Mal, but that didn’t seem likely. So she just wanted to wring every drop of happiness out of this time while they had it.

“Yeah?” Mal asked, his tongue running over his teeth as he looked out at the highway and the empty fields beyond it. “How’s about I put one there?” 

Georgia snorted and shook her head, and then glanced at him, waiting for the punchline but it didn’t come. Her eyebrows pulled together and she blinked at him for a moment before finding her voice. “Quit fuckin’ around. You don’t want to marry me.” she said, shoving him lightly.

“Why not?” Mal asked, taking a sip of his beer. Georgia opened her mouth to tell him exactly why, but she couldn’t think of any reasons. He knew basically everything already, maybe not all the details, but enough. Mal knew where she’d come from, and how she’d survived and how she worked. He knew how she liked her coffee and that she always liked to sleep with one leg out from the covers and that she finished her showers with a blast of cold water. If he already knew all that, and asked anyway...

“I don’t know.” Georgia admitted. Taking a moment to have another sip of her beer she shrugged a shoulder. “Are you sayin’ you want to marry me?” she asked, her heart beating a bit harder as she tried to act calm.

“Maybe. You sayin’ yes if I ask?” he asked with an impish grin curling the corner of his mouth as he turned his head to look at her. Georgia turned and smirked back at him.

“I think I might... just to see if you actually have the balls to follow through.” she told him. Mal set down his beer and turned to her, running his fingers through her hair and then trailing them down to hold her chin as he looked her in the eye. 

“Alright. Georgia - whatever your real last name is. Don’t matter. It’ll be Winters soon.- Fuck the formalities. Marry me.” he said. Georgia just blinked at him for a moment, waiting for him to laugh or to say he was joking but he didn’t and she smiled.

“Yeah. Okay. I will.” she agreed. Mal smiled and kissed her hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, forgetting about everything that wasn’t him

Las Vegas, NV - September 9th, 2000

Five days later, she was standing in front of Mal wearing a white sundress she’d picked up the day before, slipping a gold band onto his finger and promising she’d love him forever. It was the first time she’d told him that she loved him and she meant every word. The life she’d had before him felt like a bad dream and she’d woken up to find herself safe in his arms. A life without him in it wasn’t something she ever wanted to experience ever again. Georgia Morgan was long gone now, along with all the other identities she’d taken. She was Georgia Winters and it just felt right, like this is who she’d always been meant to be. Someone said to ‘kiss the bride’ and Georgia pulled Mal’s head down with a stupid grin on her face. No more cons, no more faking being in love. Whatever came next, she and Mal would do it together.

[movedto-jewishbucke]

summary: Following a bad breakup and an overdose, TK Strand starts to reevaluate his life with the help of his therapist and he realizes the relationship with his father isn’t healthy… for either of them. Concerned that he might relapse due to his father’s over-involvement in his life and needing a fresh start, he decides to relocate to Austin, TX. author’s note: this is not an anti-Owen Strand blog or fic

updates: every other Tuesday; chapter 2 will be up May 12th tag list [comment or send an ask if you’d like to be added or removed]: @cupidmarwani

available on ao3

Something he likes about his therapist is that she never pressures him to talk if he doesn’t want to. Unfortunately, this means a lot of their sessions consist of them staring at each other, waiting for someone to break the silence - like now. He knows what he wants to say, what he has to say, but he’s scared because voicing it to another person makes it more real and means he actually has to follow through. Right now, he doesn’t know if this is something he actually wants because it’s such a big step, but he knows this is something he needs if he wants to get better.

“I think I need to start over.” He lets out a deep breath, because it’s like a weight has been lifted from his chest. TK slowly shifts his attention from the flower painting hanging behind his therapist’s head to her warm brown eyes.

Is it weird for him to think she seems more motherly than his own mother? Maybe that’s another issue of his that he needs to bring up… with a different therapist.

“Okay.” She nods slowly and adjusts her notebook so it’s balancing on her knee, which gets his anxiety spiking but before he can say something, she starts talking again. “What does starting over look like for you?”

In the two weeks he had been thinking about what he needed, he had never gotten into the planning stages. He knows he needs to start over, but he doesn’t know what that looks like or where to begin.

“I just…” He sighs, tearing his gaze away from her, choosing to look outside at the Manhattan traffic which seems way less chaotic than his life feels. “I love my dad,” he says, still refusing to look at her, “but ever since I overdosed, he has been a lot to deal with.”

That’s not entirely true and TK knows it, so does Dr. Cohen because she’s the one who very gently pointed out that their relationship went beyond a normal father-son bond. Why she would point this out when Owen is paying her bills, he doesn’t know; maybe she pointed it out because she cares more about his well-being than her paycheck.

“I know he loves me and just wants to make sure I’m safe.” But he’s an adult with a career, an apartment, a drug addiction, and a codependent relationship. It’s too much to deal with, and now that he’s aware of their codependency issues it’s a lot harder to ignore all the ways Owen violates his privacy for the sake of “protecting” him.  “Sometimes, he makes me want to relapse.”

At this, he chooses to look over at her to see if she gives a hint as to what she’s thinking or how she feels about him saying he thinks about relapsing because of their relationship, but her expression is blank.

“What does he do?”

What doesn’t he do? He shows up at his apartment uninvited and with no warning, which is bad in and of itself but it’s made worse when TK has a guy over.

“One time, he went through my apartment to make sure I didn’t have drugs.” This had happened about three months ago, after he had overdosed for the first time in years, and at the time he had made excuses for him and downplayed his own feelings. Now, he’s angry at himself because he allowed him to violate his privacy in such a monumental way, and he wishes he had brought it up to Dr. Cohen when it had happened instead of brushing it off as “not a big deal.”

More recently, Owen has shown up at his workplace which would have been fine if he had at least asked or given him a heads up, but he didn’t. “Before my overdose, he would always show up to my work unannounced and it was fine, but now it seems like he’s invading my privacy.” He shrugs slightly and slowly meets her gaze. “Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

“What you’ve just told me are very obvious privacy violations,” she says, flashing him a small smile that is gone as quick as it came. “I can’t imagine anyone who would be okay with these things happening to them.”

TK focuses on a stain on the floor, mulling over her words and trying to decide if she’s right about him not overreacting. “I’ve tried talking to him about these things,” he mutters, seemingly to himself because his eyes are still trained on the stain. Is it a coffee stain? He hasn’t ever seen her drink coffee during their sessions though. “He didn't… he told me he was just worried about me and that any parent in his shoes would do the same thing.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up because it’s draining to think about, let alone talk about, and he’s starting to get the feeling that she might be judging him. He can’t say she would be wrong to judge him; he’s an adult who lacks any sort of independence from his father and sometimes he judges himself for that.

“Your father is very prone to… ignoring boundaries, as we’ve discussed in previous sessions, and that is not your fault.”

She pauses, taking a deep breath and shifting in her seat, and this gets him to look up at her instead of the stain. What kind of stain is it?

“I don’t know your father but I think he sees his actions as normal, healthy behaviors so when you confronted him, suggesting they weren’t, he chose to double down instead of consider the possibility that he has been unintentionally harming you.” She pauses again and he thinks she’s giving him time to process her words, but he’s not quite sure. “I think your father can’t let himself consider that possibility because based on our conversations, he has made keeping you safe and alive his primary purpose in life.”

He wants to object, to point out that Owen is a firefighter and that is his primary purpose in life: to save other people, not his family. But he knows that isn’t true and hasn’t been true since his first overdose eight years ago.

Instead of commenting on Owen’s other behaviors or acknowledging what she said, he chooses to do what he does best when the current topic starts to be too much for him to handle: change topics.

“I just think I need to start over.” He sinks into the plush chair and pops the string of his hoodie into his mouth, which reminds him he should invest in one of those fidget toys he sees his students with so he can stop ruining his $30 hoodies when he gets anxious.

“Why do you think you need to start over?”

Another thing he loves about her is that she handles his topic changes smoothly and doesn’t force him to talk about shit he doesn’t want to; he’s given the freedom to process his problems at his pace, not hers.

“I love this city,” he states, glancing out the window to watch the traffic again. “But if I don’t leave, I don’t think I’ll ever get a shot at being my own person,” he pauses and looks back at her, a frown tugging at his lips when he says, “or recovering.”

Owen is trying his best when it comes to dealing with all of his baggage, he knows this, but it’s too much sometimes and as much as he hates to think it, his dad threatens his recovery more than helps it.

“You said it yourself in our third session,” he starts, leaning toward her, propping his elbows up on his knees, “we’re codependent.” TK pops his hoodie string back in his mouth as he thinks over his next words, trying to figure out what he’s wanting to say. “We need space,” is what he finally comes up with, blurting it out the second it comes to mind.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the ticking of the analog clock that sits on her desk, and he’s not sure if she’s wanting him to say more or she’s trying to figure out what to say. Then, she speaks.

“And you think relocating is the best way for you to get space?” She sounds skeptical which gets his anxiety going and he starts chewing on his string again, worrying that he voiced the wrong solution to his problems and upset her.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know what to do to get out of this rut he feels he’s in, because every decision he comes up with he feels is the wrong one but moving is the one idea that doesn’t seem bad. He wants to scream but he’s not sure how that will help the situation, so he stays quiet until she speaks again.

“Walk me through it, TK. How do you think relocating will help your recovery, your relationship with Owen, and other issues in your life?” She doesn’t sound angry, she sounds like she genuinely wants to understand his thought process, but he still feels like a child who is being forced to explain his decisions so he can understand how idiotic it is.

“I just can’t juggle my job, my recovery, and a dad who is too invested to the point that I want to relapse,” he says, flinching a bit at how loud he spoke. He wants to scream but he’s not sure how that will help anything and it might just make her kick him out, even though they still have thirty minutes left and the session was paid in advance.

“Everywhere I look I’m reminded of what I don’t have, what I lost.” He pulls his foot up into his lap, picking at a chunk of dried dirt on the sole. “When we broke up, I lost my friends because they were his friends first.”

The only friend he has is the fifty-year-old German librarian at his school, but it’s a stretch to call her his friend because he sees her more as a grandmother figure than someone he’s going to watch the 15th installment of Fast & Furious with.

“I love my students.” This year he’s teaching freshman English and they’re not quite as bold in how they address him like his senior class was the year before, but he still enjoys teaching them. He loves hearing their feedback on each unit and their thoughts on how he should make it better for the next class or year and he enjoys reading their essays on the books they’re forced to read because his students are funny and a little mean.

“I love the Jewish bakery on 7th because they make the best bagels and lox.” He has been going to their bakery every morning before school for four years now and he knows the family quite well, but the most they know about him is that his name is TK and he likes sesame seed bagels and iced caramel coffee. It’s weird, because he knows their only daughter died in a car accident three years ago and they’re raising their 9-year-old grandson, and that Mr. Goldstein went into remission three weeks ago. It’s not because they haven’t tried to get to know him, though. They have, but he has shut them out because he doesn’t want them to get too close or they might realize he’s a fuck up.

“I love my Iranian neighbor.” She was the first one to welcome him with a plate of an Iranian dish he can’t remember the name of and a warm hug when he moved into the apartment complex. When he realized she was alone he started visiting her. Every Saturday, they go to the park to watch the birds then they stop by the market so she can stock up on groceries. She teaches him her family recipes and her language, and in exchange he offers her his company which he knows she appreciates because of the way her face lights up when she sees him. No one has visited her in five years and his heart aches to think that she will be alone if he leaves.

He sighs, flopping back in the chair and focusing his attention on a crack in the ceiling. “I can’t go to the Italian restaurant on 4th anymore because that’s where I proposed.” It’s not like he’s banned from the restaurant, he just feels like throwing up every time he passes by the storefront because he’s reminded of the worst and most embarrassing moment of his life.

It’s not just the restaurant, though.

It’s the spin cycle place where Alex used to go and where he met the love of his life; it’s the Mediterranean place they’d eat lunch at on Tuesday; it’s the bookstore on 4th where they met; it’s his own apartment where they would steal kisses in the kitchen as they danced around each other trying to get dinner prepared, or the bedroom where Alex would spoon him while they watched old horror movies.

If it’s not reminders of Alex and the life they could’ve had if he hadn’t cheated, it’s reminders of his failed overdose and everything he has lost because of it.

“My job doesn’t know I’m an addict.” But they do know he isn’t a good fit for the school and isn’t able to perform his duties effectively anymore, so he’ll be out of a job at the end of the academic year. He can’t blame that entirely on his addiction though; the school has been looking for a reason to fire him since his first year when parents complained about him being openly gay. Unfortunately, he gave them the reason they had been looking for because after his overdose his job performance tanked to the point that his students were behind the rest of their grade and parents were, once again, complaining about him. (But at least this time it wasn’t about his sexuality.)

“I need to get out of here,” he whispers, closing his eyes and folding his hands across his stomach. “I need to start over somewhere new, somewhere I can be independent, somewhere I can focus on my recovery, somewhere I can… I don’t know.”

He just needs a fresh start in a new city where no one knows his name or his grocery list of fuck ups.

[kaitycole]

Consequences

This one kinda took on it’s own life and wrote itself. It’s super long, but oh well.

Pairing: Drake x Liam, Drake x ??

Word Count: 4803

Tag List: @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @ao719 @annekebbphotography​  @loveellamae @darley1101 @burnsoslow @debramcg1106 @jessiembruno​

A/N: Lyrics throughout are from Consequences by Camila Cabello.

It’s been years since Drake has been in the palace; hell, it’s been years since he’s been in Cordonia. His life in the states has been pretty good, although he lives in Texas, he’s making moves to Montana. He has finally pulled things together but there was one thing missing. HIM.

Liam makes his way around the room, hearing almost every noble declare their loyalty to the Crown. There has been a recent assassination attempt on the Crown, he was their primary target. When Liam took the throne almost ten years ago, he refused a suitor. He had no social season, no loveless engagement and there was no pitter patter of little feet echoing through the palace halls. Cordonia wouldn’t accept his choice, leaving them both heartbroken and the throne unstable. But there was only one person he wanted by his side. HIM.

Five minutes in the ballroom and Drake already remembers why he stays away. He has received several secondhand invitations to royal events from Maxwell. But none from the one he wanted them from. It didn’t take long before they both finally made eye contact with one another. Memories crashing over them like waves.

Dirty tissues, trust issues Glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you Lonely pillows in a stranger’s bed Little voices in my head Secret keeping, stop the bleeding Lost a little weight because I wasn't eating All the songs that I can't listen to, to tell the truth

“Is this right? I feel like it’s wrong.” Liam frowned, staring at the untoasted marshmallow on the stick. He wasn’t sure how he kept getting it wrong, he followed Drake’s directions perfectly.

“Try holding it closer to the middle. You can’t be scared of the fire.” Drake laughed.

“I’m not!” Liam practically shoved the marshmallow into the fire, sticking his tongue out victoriously at his best friend. However, when he finally pulled it out of the fire, the marshmallow was completely burnt.

Drake tried to hold back a laugh as he pulled back a perfectly golden-brown marshmallow.

Liam’s jaw dropped, “Show me again.”

Drake walked over towards the young prince as he poked a fresh marshmallow with a stick. He walked behind him, taking Liam’s arm and gently pushing it towards the fire. It was similar to the way Drake had stood behind him when he taught him how to fish, Liam’s thoughts became hazy in this instance too.

The hairs on Liam neck stood up as he felt Drake’s breath danced across his skin. He froze as Drake’s touch seared onto his skin.

Both of them had danced around the elephant that sat between them for months now. Unbeknownst to the other, both have thought back to times where they almost addressed the elephant.

Drake thought back to a fishing trip, his chest firmly pressed against Liam’s back teaching him a casting method. The smell of fresh cleaned linens encircled him. While Liam thought back on a camping adventure and how waking up surrounded by the scent of leather filled every void Liam ever felt.

Drake shook the thought from his head before he pulled back Liam’s arm, a perfectly toasted marshmallow sits on the end of his stick.

“I did it!” A huge smile spread across Liam’s face as he shouted.

Drake felt his cheeks redden; seeing Liam this happy made his chest flutter, “heh.”

Liam knitted his brows as he assembled a s’more just the way he had watched Drake make them all night. When he finished, he held it up, beaming with pride.

“This is amazing!” Liam said as he shoved it towards Drake, “try it!”

At first, he was hesitant, but he took a bite anyways. Liam’s cheeks blushed as he saw melted chocolate left on the corner of Drake’s mouth.

“What?” Drake looked at him confused.

Without thinking, he leaned forward; close enough to see Drake’s hickory eyes have melted into pools of honey as the light hit them. His breath hitched in his throat before he carefully closed the space between them. Drake looked into Liam’s eyes, darkened to a mischievous onyx color.

Liam slowly flicked his tongue against Drake’s skin, the melted chocolate licked off as his tongue swiped across Drake’s lip. Slipping his tongue between Drake’s lips, he started to explore his best friend’s mouth. When his mind finally caught up with his body, Drake pressed himself closer to Liam, pulling him into him as they both deepened the kiss.

*                      *

The pair slowly walks towards each other, the space between them getting smaller and smaller before the King and commoner are standing face to face.

“Drake,” Liam can’t seem to think of anything else to say.

“Liam.”

The pair continue to just stand there in silence. Ten years was a long time to go without seeing or speaking, neither truly understood that until now.

Clearing his throat, he finally speaks, “How is Texas? Or have you moved?” Liam’s flustered, there was a time where he knew everything about the man in front of him. He knew Drake better than he knew himself, but in this moment, he realizes that he knows absolutely nothing about him.

“Texas is good, I’m actually uhm…moving.” Drake stumbles over his words which isn’t uncommon when it comes to talking to Liam. His whole life everything he did was to reflect positively on Liam, that’s how he assumed they’d win over Cordonia. If the people could see that Drake complimented the young prince, they’d have to approve. At least that’s what they thought until Liam’s only country let them both down.

“I – “ Liam starts but is interrupted by Bastien.

“Sir, you’re needed on stage to make a speech and then Duchess Olivia would like a word.”

“Of course,” Liam turns back to Drake, “I’d like to continue this. Where are you staying?”

Don’t do it, Drake. End it right here, “Applewood. My old room.”

“I’ll meet you there. 10pm?”

No. “I’ll be there.”

Drake watches Liam walk away and back into the stoic and dutiful leader that he’s always been meant to be. It was a sight Drake was far too familiar with; Liam leaving him because unlike himself, Liam couldn’t be selfish.

Loving you was young, and wild, and free Loving you was cool, and hot, and sweet Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound A steady place to let down my defenses But loving you had consequences

The warm Grecian sun beamed down on the young couple as they lounged on the Elafonisi beach. When the planning the trip, Liam couldn’t get over the idea of seeing the famous pink sands and Drake just wanted to see his boyfriend relax.

Liam looked over at Drake who had been staring at him, “What?”

“I just love seeing you so relaxed.” Drake took in this new Liam; his raven hair laid haphazardly instead of combed back and regal while sunglasses covered his eyes. His chest was bare and he wore dark blue swim trunks that came up a tad higher than mid-thigh; much to Drake’s disapproval.

Liam propped up on his right arm, having slightly turned to face Drake. His brown hair, slightly damp from the hot sun hung in his face before he shakes it away. He sported a gray tank-top along with knee-length light tan swim trunks.

“I could say the same about you, love.” He grabbed Drake’s top and pulled him closer as he caught his lips with him. As Liam went in to deepen the kiss by scooching closer to him, Drake abruptly moved back.

“We are in public, Li!”

“So?”

Drake rolled his eyes as he turned a bright pink, he kissed Liam once more before he stood up. He shook his head as he peeled his top off.

Soon they both found themselves walking towards the water. The sand warmed the bottom of their feet as they make their way closer to the water.

Several eyes, both male and female, grazed over Liam’s figure. Drake rolled his eyes, which caught Liam’s attention.

“Must you wear such short swimwear?”

“I thought you liked them?” He tilted his head to the side, his expression seemed hurt.

He ran his fingers through his hair before mumbling, “Me and half the beach.”

Liam smirked, holding back a laugh, “So? I’m here with you.” He stopped walking and pulled Drake into him. He put both of his hands on Drake’s cheeks before he kissed him as he hands slid down Drake’s side before, he grabbed Drake’s ass.

“Liam!”

“What?” He laughed, “Just showing everyone here I’m taken.”

The cool turquoise water surrounded them as they stood still; taking in the serene landscape. Their trip was coming to a close then back to the daily grind of a prince and a commoner.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Drake said.

Liam wrapped his arm around Drake’s waist, “I’ll make it a promise to come here once a year. Just the two of us.”

Drake smiled, “Sure there’d be room in the royal schedule?”

“I’ll say it’s for diplomatic reasons,’ he kissed Drake’s nose.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hesitation, awkward conversation Running on low expectation Every siren that I was ignoring I'm payin' for it

Drake stares at the clock, 9:52PM. He knows Liam said 10pm but he’s usually always 10 minutes early to everything.

Maybe that’s changed in recent years? I can’t really say I know him like before.

His phone bings and for reasons unknown, his heart starts to race.

Hope everything is well. Talk soon?

Drake quickly replies. It is. Miss you.

I miss you. When do you get back?

TX? Or MT?

Both.

TX Friday. MT Sunday. His text is a lie, he’ll actually be back in Montana on Saturday but that was a surprise.

I don’t think I can wait that long.

Drake chuckles, So dramatic.

You love it.

His phone rings, “Hello?”

“I know it’s late there; I just miss your voice.”

He smirks, “Such a dork.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. You worry too much babe.”

“I just care about you, Drake. I won’t keep you long though.” The voice on the other end sounds sad.

“Don’t go just yet.” To be honest, Drake didn’t want to be alone. Being back in Cordonia was bringing up too much stuff for him to feel safe alone.

“You know I’ll only leave when you say so.”

Drake knows that he doesn’t just mean the phone call, but he didn’t want to go there right now. “What do you have planned for today?”

“Dad had me go on a supply run this morning and I’m just about to take Dolly out for a ride.”

“Give her an extra carrot for me, would ya?”

Drake doesn’t hear anything coming from the other line because his attention is completely on the doorknob twisting.

Liam walks in, his tie is gone and the top buttons of his shirt are undone. His hair is a sloppy mess of black hair instead of the slicked back style it held early in the night. He smiles at Drake as Drake holds up his index finger, telling him to wait a minute.

“Hey, I have to go really quick. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Oh okay. Have a good night!”

“Goodnight, Sawyer.” Drake taps the red circle on his screen.

“Sawyer?” Liam asks as Drake sits next to him on the bed.

Drake runs his fingers through his hair, “Uh…yeah. It’s a new thing.”

“Where’d you meet him?”

“I went to Montana for cattle and ran into him about six months ago.”

“Is it serious?”

Drake pauses, Is he jealous? Or just curious?

“Not yet.” Liam raises his brow causing Drake to elaborate, “I wanted to wait until I moved up there before things got too serious. Wanted us to have a chance. Distance is a bitch.”

The pair share a knowing look. Once upon a time, they had tried to sustain their relationship through distance and both knew it crashed and burned.

Clearing his throat to break the silence, “Anyone in your life?”        

“Not really,” Liam shakes his head, “A few flings here and there but NDA’s are a mood kill.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Drake turns red as he awkwardly fumbles over his words.

Liam places a hand on Drake’s inner thigh.

“Liam.”

He moves closer, his hand gently turning Drake’s chin to face him before kissing him. Drake doesn’t pull away at first, falling into the familiar taste and motions of his ex-lover before Sawyer’s face flashes in his mind and he pushes Liam back.

“Liam! No!”

“You said it wasn’t serious. Where’s the harm?”

“I never said that I didn’t want it to be serious!”

Silence falls over them as Drake moves over the chair closest to the door, giving them space to cool down. The pair whose hearts once beat in sync, found themselves struggling to exchange small talk.

“I can’t believe this is so awkward.”

“It’s been nearly ten years, Liam.”

“But we were in love. Soulmates. How does that just disappear?”

Drake sighs, dropping his head into his hands, “Are you remembering all of it?”

Liam’s eyes widen as he takes in the words spoken. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure that he really was.

Loving you was young, and wild, and free Loving you was cool, and hot, and sweet Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound A steady place to let down my defenses But loving you had consequences

Drake flopped down on Liam’s bed. He was exhausted from the events of the day and couldn’t wait to just shower and climb in bed for the night; even if it was only 8:35pm. The two of them had spent the entire day going to various public events in hopes that when the time came, they would except Drake as who Liam picked. To both of their surprise, the country seemed to think it was a great match along with Leo and Madeleine.

However, he was slightly concerned with the impromptu meeting Constantine had called towards the end of their final event, which left Drake alone to handle the crowd. Thankfully it was Lythikos so Olivia was there to help. It had been a few hours since Constantine called for Liam and usually Liam would at least sneak a text to Drake.

“Drake? Are you here?” Liam called out into the suite. His tone almost sounded defeated and full of worry.

“In here.” Drake sat down the clothes he had decided to sleep in, walking into the common room to meet Liam. He rushed to his side, going in for a kiss only for Liam to turn his head and the kiss landed on his cheek.

“I have some news I need to share.”

“Okay?” Drake was scared. Liam had never sounded so serious to him before.

“Leo…he...abdicated.”

“Abdicated? Abdicated what?”

“The throne.” Irritation took over his tone.

“Which means that you’ll be…” Drake hesitated, hoping that maybe it he didn’t say it aloud it wouldn’t be true.

“The fucking king, Drake.” Liam slammed his hand against the wall, “The king.” Liam slowly slid down the wall he was leaning against. Once he reached the floor, he pressed his head into his hands.

Drake stood there, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say, unsure on what could help. “Li, I…”

“Just leave me alone. I just want to be left alone.”

Drake slowly blinked back the tears that Liam’s harsh tone and words had caused as he walked back into the bedroom before getting in the shower. As the hot water reddened his skin, he heard the door slam. Closing his eyes, he just hoped Liam would stay safe, he knew where he was going.           

The sound of things being knocked over and whispered cuss words woke Drake up. Through sleepy eyes, the clock read 3:45am to which Drake sighed at. He laid there, waiting for Liam to stumble into the room, deciding if he would just pretend to be asleep or not.

“Draaaaakkkkkeeeee,” Liam half whispered, half giggled.

He rolled over and propped up on his right arm, glaring at the Crown Prince. He was completed disheveled; his dress shirt untucked and wrinkled and his hair had clearly seen better styles. Drake was also pretty sure his zipper was left undone and he really didn’t want to ask why.

“Yes?”

Liam drunkenly climbed onto the bed, crawling closer to Drake who could smell the rum coming off Liam.

“I missed you baby.” He flopped down on top of Drake.

“You need to change clothes.” Drake pushed him off him before walking to Liam’s dresser and pulled out a white t-shirt and plaid PJ pants.

Liam tried, and failed, at undoing the buttons before Drake finally stepped in. Liam repeatedly apologized to Drake for being a mess and Drake brushed it off.

Drake felt Liam scoot up behind him when he reached over to cut the lamp off. His hand trailed down Drake’s thigh before moving inward.

“Li.” His breath hitched as he felt Liam wrap his hand around him. He felt Liam pressed up against his back as his lips trailed down his neck. The anger Drake was holding slowly evaporated as Liam’s lips and hands started to touch all over his body. He turned his body to face Liam before his lips crashed into his. It was when he pulled back to look at him that he saw the deep purple mark on Liam’s neck that the anger built back up inside him.

He shoved Liam away from him as he got off the bed, grabbing his pillow.

“What the hell, Drake?”

“What the hell, Drake? How about what the hell, Liam!” He stormed off into the living room.

Liam stood up and stopped in front of the mirror, the mark catching his eyes.

*                      *

“Drake?”

“Yeah, Li?” Drake was in the shower, washing his hair when the prince came in.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Liam’s hand when to the side of his neck.

“You were drunk.” He knew that wasn’t a good excuse, but he didn’t want to talk about it.

“It won’t ever happen again.”

Drake didn’t say anything. He just pressed his eyes tighter together trying to stop imagining Liam with someone else. That’s what his mind had been on repeat all night.

A quick breeze of cool air hits Drake’s skin as the shower door is opened. He knew it was Liam, but he didn’t move or speak; just continued to rinse the soap from his brown locks.

“Li!” He gasped as he felt Liam’s hands on his inner thighs.

“Let me make it up to you.” He then took Drake into his mouth which caused a low moan from his lover.

Drake tried to enjoy the moment, but all he could think about was when exactly they had started to drift apart.

*                      *

“There was that one night, but I wouldn’t say that destroyed us.” Liam says.

Drake shakes his head, “You still won’t even say what happened.”

“Because it’s not that important. That didn’t change the fact that I loved you.”

“This is what I’m talking about, Liam. You aren’t looking back on everything. You’re seeing the good and the okay, but you aren’t looking at the bad.”

“We didn’t have any bad.”

“YES WE DID!” Drake yells which causes Liam’s eyes to widen, “Think. Think really hard on the last time I was at the palace.”

Loving you was dumb, dark and cheap Loving you will still take shots at me Found loving you was sunshine, but then it poured And I lost so much more than my senses 'Cause loving you had consequences

“It’s been months, why are you still on this?”

“Still on this…are you kidding me?”

“It was one night, Drake.”

“What was one night?”

“The incident.”

“Exactly! You won’t even call it what it is. You cheated, Liam! CHEATED!”

Liam sighed, “It always comes back to this with you, doesn’t it?”

Drake’s eyes widen as he listened to Liam’s bullshit, “Seriously?”

“You’ve been in Texas for six months and I don’t know what you’re doing at all times.”

“You don’t…I work and talk to you!”

“You could go out to bars and hook up.”

“I think you’re thinking about yourself. That’s your thing, Liam.”

Drake walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, he needed to add space between them. Sure, they had fights, but he knew this one would be bad.

“I can’t even remember him; doesn’t that show you that it meant nothing?”

“Are you always a dick?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Liam smirked at his lover.

“I can’t even look at you right now. It’s hard enough dealing with the press over us, but you don’t even seem to care.” He pushed himself passed Liam as he walked into the living room.

Liam shook his head; he didn’t understand where all of this was coming from nor did he really want to deal with it. As king, he had enough to deal with, especially with the council calling for a social season and engagement. He watched as Drake stormed off into the bedroom.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Drake tossed the suitcase on the bed with a thump. He began to throw any and all of his clothes in the suitcase as he emptied out the dressers and closets.

“I can’t stay here with you.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Liam rolled his eyes.

“I’m not being shit!” Drake yelled, “We’ve been drifting apart and you couldn’t even take the time to notice.”

“So, you’re just going to run away? Like the Walker that you are.” Liam scoffed, “Like mother like son, right?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m damaged.”

“Oh, but aren’t you?”

Drake froze in place, a pair of shoes hanging from his fingers with a few shirts draped across his arm.

Liam continued before Drake could fully process his remark, “You’re only being this dramatic because you’re insecure. Your daddy died and mommy left you, you’ve always been alone. So, now you’re scared that I’ll just leave you too.”

“I don’t need you, Liam.” He shoved the last of his things in the bag.

“It’s me who doesn’t need you, Drake. You’ve become a burden and I can’t handle it anymore.” He watched as tears fell from Drake’s face, “That’s why the public won’t accept you, you’re too weak for the crown.”

           Drake yanked his suitcase from the bed and drug it towards the door, stopping only to grab his keys from the kitchen counter. He paused at the door, not bothering to turn around before he spoke, “Fuck you, Liam.”

 *                      *

Once again, they sit in silence. That fight was the one that ended things for them. It was the one fight that they could never come back from, that they could never pretend didn’t happen. Or at least Drake couldn’t pretend never happen.

Just thinking about the fight broke Drake into pieces all over again. It had taken him years to get over it, to be able to hear him name without falling apart. The first couple years after he had left Cordonia, he worked himself half to death. He refused to stop throwing himself into work, fearfully of being left alone in his thoughts.

When his mom and sister had finally convinced him to take a short trip to decompress, it ended with an emergency trip to the ER; attempted overdose; his thoughts had gotten too loud to ignore. That day he realized that he truly was the damaged mess Liam accused him of being.

He had decided to get help by spending sometime in a mental health hospital and it had been the best thing he ever did. With help, he had pulled himself out of the hole that Liam had dug and shove him in during that last fight. It was after that, that he had started traveling and began to dream of running his own ranch or at least getting more into the cattle raising business.

The memory of the fight was suffocating to Liam. He had spent all this time shoving it down, refusing to allow himself to realize that he was in fact the reason he lost Drake. He spent this entire time blaming his dad, Regina, the citizens of Cordonia and even Drake rather than himself. Drake was right, Liam only saw the good and the okay moments because if he saw the bad then he wouldn’t be able to have hope that they’d return to each other. What he did. What he said. None of that was true or fair for him to say.

“It took me a long time to understand things,” Drake clears his throat, “But sometimes the person you want the most is the person you’re best without.”

“Drake…” Liam moves over to where he’s sitting, kneeling down in front of him, “I never meant those things. I just wanted you to hurt as much as I was.”

“We’re toxic to one another. All this time apart has just proved that.” He pushes Liam’s hand off of his knee, “You don’t hurt people you love, Li. That’s not love.”

“Fire and gasoline.”

Drake sighs, “Exactly.” He pushes himself up, walking away from Liam whose still on his knees. He begins packing what little he has unpacked in the day and a half he’s been in town.

Liam’s heart sinks, the sight all too familiar to him.

Drake takes deep breaths, knowing he needs to chill out and not let his emotions drown  out his rational thinking. He pressed down the top while he zips it up, stuffing his chargers in the front pocket of the suitcase.

There’s nothing left to say. Liam pretty much summed everything up by describing what the two of them actually were: fire and gasoline. They weren’t meant to be together. They weren’t good together or for each other. It didn’t matter if they wanted to try it again, they couldn’t and Drake knew that he shouldn’t.

“We can go into this slowly this time.” Liam tries to bargain with Drake, sure they had an explosive fight and he had said hurtful things, but he knew that they could fix it if they just tried.

“Li, no, we aren’t right for each other. We tried, several times, and that last time…it nearly killed me.”

Liam’s shoulders dropped, almost as if he had deflated. He watches as Drake pulls his suitcase towards the door, knowing Drake has made up his mind and nothing would change it.

“I wish you nothing but the best, Drake.”

“Same to you, Li.”

Loving you

“Good morning, babe.” Drake feels movement from the other side of the bed. Sleep coated the voice next to him, bringing Drake’s lip into a smile.

Turning, Drake kisses the person next to him before wrapping his arms around him. It has been a year since his adventures in Cordonia and when he left, he really wasn’t sure where to go. He had worked so hard to put himself back together when he left Cordonia the first time and he didn’t want Sawyer to see him in pieces. He couldn’t ask Sawyer to put him back together, but he didn’t have anyone else he trusted.

The sudden knocking on the door jolted Sawyer from his unexpected nap on the couch. He rushed to the door and when he opened it, he found a broken Drake standing in the rain.

Sawyer gave him a change of clothes, towel for his hair along with a cup of coffee to help him warm up. He didn’t pry because he didn’t have to, Drake told him everything. Starting at the very beginning and ending with how he ended up on his porch.

“Pathetic, huh?” Drake shook his head, tightening his grip on the mug.

Sawyer had moved to sitting on the coffee table and faced Drake. He hesitated before gently placing his hand on his thigh, “Pathetic? No. Brave? Yes.”

Drake looked up with a puzzled look.

“You faced your demons head on. That’s more than most people are able to do.” He took Drake’s hand, “You don’t have to do things alone anymore, Drake. I’m here and I won’t leave until you push me away…at least twice.”

Drake smirked as he shook his head, “The same goes for me, but make it three times. I’m a little hard headed.”

*                      *                      *

“I vote that we stay in bed all day, take the day off.” Drake nibbles in Sawyer’s ear.

“I fully support that.” He smiles as he looks at Drake’s left ring finger. It sports a ring that matches his own.

“I love you.” He turns in Drake’s arms so he’s facing him now. Drake leans forwards, pressing his forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

[apartmentsjohnscreek72]

Free Move Apartment Locating Companies - Know the Truth!

55+ living johns creek

We all are drawn to the saying "free", and also the indisputable fact that we have been getting something for nothing. There are lots of legitimate free offerings offered to consumers in the wide range of settings. As an illustration, Apartment Locators truly offer an invaluable intend to all renters who are searching for a flat, and also the service is free to the renter, saving them a lot of time driving around visiting a large number of properties, and intensely probably losing out on the top deals and the best apartments.

55+ apartments johns creek

However, in addition there are many companies using the term "free" to lure in customers, and then they may or may not actually give you the service or product that they can initially promised. They manage this deception by writing a lot of loopholes into the fine print of their advertisement that they can always excuse the absence of delivery. So caution is definitely in order if you are trusting service repair shop who plans to provide you with something necessary for free.

Moving is a very stressful time for many. Often you will find deadlines to get through your current apartment with a certain time. You will find circumstances to sort and boxes to pack it, and pack carefully in order to avoid sets from being broken. Plus there is the careful loading as well as the careful unloading and also the unpacking and placing and sorting. You need to allow time to clean that old apartment when you turn in the keys, plus you've got to be sure you are visiting the new apartment during business hours so that you can receive the secrets to your home. You have utilities to disconnect and new utilities for connecting. A good deal is occurring simultaneously, and there always is the concern that you may have forgotten something important. You already arranged your schedule to achieve the day free for moving. You still have your affairs to be able, and now you are only waiting for the mover to reach. The LAST thing that you need is often a glitch over some small detail in details in it that creates your mover to not show up and deliver that "free" move that you were counting on and planning for.

That is certainly what exactly became of an associate of mine very recently. She used some of those apartment locating companies in the Dallas, TX area that supposedly offered a "free" move. I wont mention names here, however it is a favorite company. Anyway, she's home from work and has all her items packed and able to go. It's a Friday evening, and he or she has experienced the move scheduled using the movers for weeks. She gets to get Away from her apartment by midnight THAT night. They're suppose to come at 7:00 pm, so there is a little a time crunch that is the sole time the movers had available. They finally make an appearance, have a look at her small 1 bedroom apartment and let her know "The free move only covers Two hours valuation on free moving. It appears as though you might have more items than we can easily move in 2 hours" (small print), plus they leave!!!! My friend is panicking. Jane is a single lady who lives all by herself and it has to get from her apartment within a few hours. If she resides in a smaller 1 bedroom and had way too many items for them to move, it makes me wonder just who they can move?? Anyway, my good friend calls me at 8:00 desperate and crying. I rally up our other friends and we find a U Haul place that was still open and rent a truck. All of us go over and move her that same evening. She got out of her apartment in time, and she have a free move okay, nonetheless it wasn't from your company who promised her the move. She did everything she was suppose to complete, wrote their name about the Leasing Application because the Locating Company who referred her to the new apartments, and they also GOT PAID FOR THE REFERRAL, yet they didn't deliver the move which they promised.

It turns out that a number of these "free move" companies have fine print that limits how long they're going to offer you to the move. Along with what happens in the event the move transpires with check out that time. Would they just leave? Evidently. Or, when they look over your items and glance at the job normally takes over the allowed time, they will often not even START the move. One more thing to beware of from the fine print....not only may there be limits towards the time they are going to allow, however they often limit like items and also the quantity of items they will move. As an example, when you have a 1 bedroom, they generally possess a specific list of the only real items they'll move. For example: 1 couch, 1 table, one dining room table, 4 dining chairs, a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, 2 lamps, a few boxes (they often is only going to consent to move a small number of boxes) and lots of times that's it!! In case you have a couple bedroom, they could increase the list with the addition of another bed and dresser. But what if you have an item which is not on their own list.....say for example a desk, or even a curio cabinet, or even a piano, or perhaps an aquarium, or a dresser or perhaps an extra table or perhaps a loveseat, or a recliner, or perhaps a number of boxes compared to they allow? Don't let yourself be surprised when they leave all items behind which aren't on his or her restrictive list, and you are just stuck working out what to do with them yourself. If it is enough items, or goods that are sufficient, you may find yourself needing to rent a truck or UHaul anyway, or call friends that can come assist you to.

Another friend recently told me that something similar happened to him that happened to my first friend. He was using one of people apartment locating firms that give you a "free" move. He stated these folks were calling him every day as they was looking for the apartment, trying difficult to convince him to advance into mostly of the places that they had recommended. Each day they called to check if he picked a location yet and if he place their name for the Leasing Using any apartments yet. Finally he did look for a place, and that he did put there name there since the Locator who referred him. Next, an appealing thing happened. He could never get ahold of anyone at the apartment locating company again! If they found out he picked a location and wrote them down (their check was guaranteed), they never called him and then. They wouldn't return his calls and the man couldn't discover a real live human within the company to talk with to be able to schedule his free move. He found themselves needing to hire another moving companies ultimately. The "free" move locating company got paid their and so they never delivered the free move.

How will be the "free move" locating companies distinctive from all the other Apartment Locating Companies? Well, there are many definite differences that you ought to keep in mind. For starters, let's establish the fact most Apartment Locating companies need not give you a "free move" to entice customers. It's been shown the superb customer support and the expertise they have preserves the normal renter $500-$700.....that's much more valuable compared to the cost of a 2 hour move. Plus, they truly assist you in finding the most effective and a lot awesome apartment home. Another clear difference is: Not every the apartment communities on the market works together with the "free move" locating companies. Actually, some of them will not likely. This is due to a variety of reasons.

For one, a few of these "free move" companies don't have the very best reputation. Secondly, many of the apartments don't feel that they actually earned the commission that they are wanting the apartments to pay for them. Some of those free move companies have an internet site where you login and look yourself. They just will highlight info on the small selection of of properties which will work well together and outlay cash. Once you pick a place, you log on again on the website and say to them which one you picked and so the computer is suppose to schedule the move. Not every one of the businesses are the same, however this is the method for a few. An actual human is just not even actively linked to helping you with your search in many cases. Lots of the apartments think that just putting a website alone won't merit earning a commission. Now you may have an online prescence. The truth is, the apartments currently have their own website. To find out no problem which has a Locating Company having a website (the truth is, every one of them do), the issue arises when the locator ONLY communicates through their website and are predominantly a dot.com business.

The apartment complexes don't wish to pay a dot.com for generating a website after which only delivering what you promises area of the time. They want to pay Apartment Locators who've a local office, who've actual live Agents who work there and who deal one-on-one with all the potential renters, assisting these to find their new rental home with customized, individual lists of apartment information. Often times these Locators even escort their customers towards the properties. In the event the client features a unique situation, the Locator can identify them which properties are usually to work their their particular circumstances. They are fully aware that has the top specials available, or who's the actual amenities how the renter needs. The renter can call their Locator and talk with them and get questions and build a working relationship.

What is the disadvantage for YOU, the objective renter, when they are not every one of the apartments will work with the "move free" locating companies? The challenge arises because the "move free" publication rack only planning to recommend to you this apartments which occur to utilize them. Which means that you might not find out about the property who is in truth the the one which matches exactly what you need and contains the most effective special. They will only display information for the properties who covers the cost them. Whenever you start using a traditional Apartment Locator who works with Every one of the properties in the City, you can depend on that you will be getting the whole picture and can honestly be known about all the properties that have the most effective specials. This can be a distinct advantage that real physical Apartment Locators have in the so-called "free move" locators. Most traditional Apartment Locators assist Each of the reputable apartment and townhome communities. No matter for many years which you choose ultimately if you are content, because Them all will probably pay the Locator and work with the Agent. Other product should attempt to steer one to a definite property over another. Their job would be to recommend who may have the best selection and appears to be the top match in your case.

[apothecandy-blog]

Netflix Series Review: Unorthodox

Waking up this Independence Day, I thought about what this holiday meant and the deeper meaning of it outside of the beers, barbecue, and fireworks. Historically it is the ratification of the Declaration of Independence where the thirteen colonies broke away from British rule. Creating a document and obtaining signatures was a way to claim freedom. It seems kind of easy but then we have to understand this is one type of freedom. There are many other types of freedoms to be unleashed.

In Unorthodox, the main character is a woman named Esty from the Hasidic community in Williamsburg, NY. Personally I never knew about this community growing up in the suburbs of Houston, TX and found out about them through various Youtube documentaries. The Hasidic community is very archaic, strict, and by the scroll called Torah. Members of this community are not allowed to use social media, have a strict kosher diet, cannot freely have premarital relations with the opposite sex, and must adhere to the laws of their community. Due to their religion and culture being very streamlined, this community sticks to their own and rarely interacts with members outside of their little world. This series explores how this woman names Esty has the curiosity to venture outside of the Hasidic world.

The series is divided into four parts and it starts out with Esty collecting a few of her possessions and running away. Of course through watching the trailer for this series, the viewer knows that Esty is fleeing her life in Williamsburg and going to Germany. The whole fascination is to answer the question “Why?”. Even though the Hasidic community is portrayed by the media as patriarchal and inhospitable for the modern independent woman, why does this one particular woman named Esty take that step to run away? What is her deal? Why don’t the other married women run away? What is her story?

Her story unfolds through flashbacks throughout the series. It turns out that her mother has also left the Hasidic community in the past to be with her non-Hasidic lover. The mother moved to back to Berlin to live a life away from the orthodoxy. It is revealed that she leaves Esty some immigration paperwork that gives her citizenship in Germany in case Esty ever wants to leave the Hasidic community as well. In the flashback, teenage Esty is cold towards her mother when she gives her the paperwork and Esty asserts that she is happy where she is and will never leave. The viewer knows that this changes and cannot help but smile at Esty and say to the TV screen silently “but you will you crazy girl, stop being so rude to your mom”. 

Esty does leave after a year of her arranged marriage to her awkward man-child husband Yanky. She realizes that there is much more to her than being someone’s wife and someone’s mother. Even during her first meeting with Yanky she does tell him that she is different. I don’t know at that time if Esty knew what she meant by that word “different” or why she said that randomly to her future husband. I think it was at this point she was becoming self-aware of how she did not actually fit inside of this conformist community but did not know what to do with this new information so like everybody else, she just let others decide her life for her. 

However after a little growing up, she realized that this way of living was not for her. She wanted to make her own decisions. She wanted to love how she wanted to without unsolicited advice from her in-laws and the Kallah teacher. With the help of a piano teacher who lives as a tenant in her father’s property, Esty arranges a secret escape to Germany. 

When she first arrives in Berlin, she is too nervous to face her mother so she walks around and takes in her new and different surroundings. The scene where she arrives in Germany is reminiscent of Amish In The City because she is still wearing her sheitel (married Jewish woman wig) with the modest librarian outfit of a boxy long skirt and a turtleneck. Aside from her appearance, Esty just looks confused an in awe of the human interactions around her. She enters a coffee shop to get a drink and then follows this cute musician guy to a music conservatory. Esty is fascinated by performances and lifestyle of the artists. It is seen on her face how she finally has found a place where her true different self fits. She quickly becomes friends with the musicians and they go to the beach. While in the water for what it seems like the first time fully clothed, Esty takes off her wig and lets it float away. This seems emotional for her and as the viewer you cannot help but feel happy for her. It is an abdication of her religion if you want to look at it from that dramatic point of view. It is her way of saying, “I will no longer conform or follow, I just want to be seen”.

While Esty is finding her place in Germany, back in Williamsburg her husband receives a call from her gyno about her positive blood test results. Esty is pregnant. After discovering she has run away, the Hasidic community did put out search parties but after this news of a baby on the way the search for her gains more fervor. This part made me roll my eyes when the Rabbi was like we HAVE to find this woman because she is with child. Is she not important or worth seeking without child? 

Yanky and his creepy playboy cousin Moishe set out to find Esty in Germany. They terrorize her mom who has no idea that Esty is in the same city. Examples of toxic masculinity are seen in their parts of the series. Moishe finally finds her dancing with a musician at a nightclub. Instead of yanking her out of the club on the spot like the misogynist he is, Moishe creeps up on her the next day and tries to emotionally blackmail Esty. He tells her that since she is with child she needs to come back to Williamsburg and is a traitor to Judaism if she stays in Germany. He tells her that she will not survive and will be a bad mother. This riles up Esty emotionally for a short bit but then she decides to run to her mom’s apartment where she is met with open arms. There she learns the truth about the circumstances of why her mom had to leave. Esty makes the choice to stay in Germany and to keep her baby.

Overall this series is dramatic, poignant, emotional, and the cinematography is on point. There have been many documentaries in social media about people’s escape from Hasidism but the thing that makes Unorthodox different is its ability to tell a story. It is the story of one woman named Esty who wants the opportunity to find herself, to find what makes her different, to live by her own rules. To do all that she has to liberate herself from those who try to rule her way of life in the name of religion. Sounds a lot like my friend America ;) 

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 31 is now available on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 31 chapters completed: 1.83M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

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Here's a snippet from Chapter 31 of a conversation Eddie, the 118, Maddie and Athena ar having about the things that happened to Buck while he was in Super Target with Chris.

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“Stop! Did you all see that?” Eddie asks in a voice full of emotion.

Hen asks, “What is she doing?”

“It looks like she just injected him with something because as soon as she moves her hand, you can see Buck say, “Ow” then he leans over a little and puts his hand on his shoulder.” Eddie loudly explains.

“But what did she inject him with?” Chimney asks.

Ravi replies, “I don’t know but from the looks of it, whatever it was… Buck collapsed not long afterwards. It’s easy to see he was fighting to stay awake and alert.”

“If she injected him… where’s the needle?” Demetrius asks.

Eddie replies, “Demetrius, do you remember seeing examples of small hypodermic needles in your EMT training?”

“Yeah, I do remember that.” He replies with a nod.

While Eddie was explaining the size differences in hypodermic needles, Hen and Chimney look at each other with their eyebrows raised and they have a quick silent conversation. After a few seconds, Chimney asks, “Could she have dosed him with Adenosine?”

“Why do you think it was Adenosine?” Eddie asks.

“Because the night Jonah took us, he injected it twice into Chimney’s IV. He used it to stop his heart.” Hen replies a little louder than she intends to because memories of that night still haunt both of them.

Will anyone figure out the name of the drug Lucy injected Buck with before it's too late? 🤷🏽‍♀️

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - After Buck resumes therapy, he’ll continue to face the fact that he “DIED” in March 2023 and during those sessions, he’ll learn about the 7 stages of grief. As he continues his healing journey, Eddie will be right by his side just like he promised and the Diaz family will start to deal with their three minutes and seventeen seconds loss as a family.

Chapter 28 - Two years ago, Eddie was asked, “What are you afraid of?”; twice, once by Frank and once by Buck but he only answered one of them without deflecting. Since that time, he’s been to therapy and him and Buck got married but the question resurfaces when Frank asks Buck the same question and Buck asks it of Eddie for the second time. However, when Buck asks, his reasoning will be about something else entirely.

Chapter 29 - After Buck and Eddie have an emotionally intimate conversation regarding their dreams, they make several decisions that will affect their future. When everything falls into place, they’ll realize one of those decisions will result in them no longer being work partners.

Chapter 30 - In 2018, Buck and Eddie met at the 118 and after some initial apprehensions on Buck’s part, they became work partners and they agreed to have each other’s backs. It’s been more than 6 ½ years, a lot’s happened, they got married in December 2023 and they have the family they both chose. With Eddie leaving the 118 in 3 months and Buck getting closer to moving past his grief, what will him losing his work partner mean for him?

Chapter 31 - As Buck’s life hangs in the balance from what’s suspected to be another bradycardia event, Eddie’s by his bedside, their son is being cared for by relatives and their found family is in the waiting room. During this time, many questions will surface that could possibly lead to the truth but will everything be revealed before it’s too late?

Chapter 32 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-31; they're available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[misssophiachase]

Mini Prompt - Klaus kisses Caroline at midnight on NYE and it leaves her a bit flustered, although she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it.

Thanks anon! I wish I had this for Klaroeve. I hope you like my take. It’s based on lyrics from New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift, one of my faves. As per usual I’m not too good at sticking to the whole ‘mini’ premise of a drabble, must be your amazing prompt!  

New Year’s Day

Hold onto the memories…

PresentDay – Austin, TX 

Caroline Forbes hated New Year’s Eve. 

Well, since five years ago.

It had become a well-known fact within her family andclose circle of friends both in her hometown of New York and now more recently in Austin. Thankfully no one had dared to askwhy she’d changed her tune so suddenly and that was just fine.  

So much so that she insisted upon being left aloneevery year. And for the most part they did so because she was like an extremelygrouchy bear with a sore head. Obviously December 31st, 2018, was anotherstory altogether. Her friends had bravely, or stupidly, decided to poke said bear.

Caroline had bought the supermarket out of ChunkyMonkey and was preparing her first movie. Who didn’t want to watch the Notebookon New Year’s Eve? It wasn’t like the occasion could get any moredepressing, right? 

“Ohgod, kill me,” she heard that familiar voice before she saw its owner. “Talkabout depressing.” It was like she could read her mind. 

“Idon’t know, Ryan Gosling isn’t too bad to look at, Kat,” the other familiarvoice offered. 

“Weare trying to get her out of this sick and twisted situation not remind herthat Ryan Gosling is hot and a totally worthy reason for staying home on New Years.”

“Wayto convince her to come out,” Bonnie drawled, sarcastically. 

“Yourealise I can hear you both, right?” She murmured, chomping on some butteredpopcorn and not bothering to turn around knowing her best friends were standingimpatiently in her kitchen. “And while we’re at it, remind me toconfiscate your keys to my apartment.”

“Canyou just drop this whole hostility act, it’s not attractive, Care,” Katherinechided.  

“Saysthe girl who is crashing my private movie marathon?”

“Youneed an intervention, enough is enough,” she huffed, her high heels clicking onthe floorboards. Caroline didn’t have much time to react given her supposedbest friend had stolen the television remote and turned everything off.

“Youdidn’t just do that, real mature Pierce. Who are you anyway? The fun police?” She snapped, a comment more than a question. Katherinelifted the remote above her head so she couldn’t snatch it so easily. 

“If you think she’s the fun police, you really do need help,” Bonnie added. “This whole, weird tradition needs to be broken.”

“Ithought you were on my side, Bon?”

“Notsince you decided that outfit was acceptable even behind closed doors,” shesuggested. Caroline looked curiously at her combination of pinksweatpants and a blue and orange Knicks jersey and decided it was just fine.

“Iknow you’re a Spurs fan Bonnie but even that comment is low.”

“Justplease stop being snarky and put this on,” Katherine drawled, holding up whatlooked like a small, black garment.

“Byitself?” Caroline baulked.

“It’sa dress, Caroline,” she shot back. 

“Areyou sure it’s not a belt?” 

“Howold are you again?” Caroline narrowed her eyes in her friend’s direction. Shewas on the older side of twenty-seven but there were moments her Great Aunt Mabel decided to takeover her body. Caroline chose to think this was one of those occasions. 

“I’mnot getting off this couch until you tell me what’s going on?” She scoffed. 

“Fine,”Kat replied gruffly, relinquishing the dress (or belt) momentarily. “Youknow that guy I was telling you about?” Before Caroline could mentally trawl through theoptions, Bonnie interjected.

“No,not the Italian model, the Australian magician or the Scandinavian fisherman,” sheclarified. “This one is an art critic.”

“Wow, those are the hardest nuts to crack,” Caroline replied knowingly. She was a singer by trade, doing mostly small gigs around town but had met a few of those in her time performing at art gallery exhibitions. “ And I reiterate my previous observation,” she whistled thinking back to the most difficult of them.

5 years earlier…NYC

It was that ominous New Year’s Eve five years ago when she met a difficult art critic for the very first time. While his suit was impeccable, his attitude and supposed manners were grating on her last nerve. She was hoping to escape as soon as their set was finished.  

The room was full, barely enough space to breathe in fact. Caroline had finished her song and made her way to what she thought was the back exit for some air but obviously took a wrong turn.

Caroline didn’t consider herself an art expert but she was neither excited nor moved by the works on display. She’d walked in circles, not expecting to meet someone obviously worked up and pacing the length of what looked like a back room. 

“Sorry,” she offered, his eyes meeting her gaze unexpectedly. Caroline would be lying if she wasn’t aroused in that moment by his sinful, crimson lips and a stray dimple. “I took a wrong turn.”

“Do you like the art?” His question blind sighted her briefly. Caroline knew exactly what she thought but given they’d never been introduced formally and this guy was the artist paying her bills she was reluctant to speak. 

“Well, um…”

“This work is rubbish don’t you think?

“Well, it’s not really my place…”

“Why, cat got your tongue?”

“Fine. If I’m being honest, it seems kind of forced.”

“How so?” She paused, wondering why this guy was so eager for her amateur opinion. “The truth, please,” he implored, she couldn’t miss the desperation in his tone and those pleading eyes.

“Honestly? It has no heart, it’s cold and unfeeling,” she admitted. “But please don’t tell the artist, I’d like to be able to pay my rent next month.”

He’d stared at her for a good few minutes and she wasn’t sure what he was going to do next. Turns out he didn’t have to say anything. She’d obviously said too much and kicked herself mentally. Caroline always spoke without thinking and this instance was no different.

The chants from the art gallery increased in volume and they could hear each number as it was articulated for countdown purposes. Still their eyes never lowered or deviated. 

8….

“I hate New Year’s Eve,” Caroline murmured trying to break the tension. 

“Me too,” he replied, a slight and unexpected grin tugging at the ends of those lips. “Even more than gallery showings when you hate the work your publicist has chosen without permission.”

6….

“You’re the artist?” She squeaked, “I thought it was the rude guy in the suit.”

“No, that’s my older brother,” he murmured. First she’d insulted his art and now his own brother. “He’s an art critic and thinks he knows everything. My sister is the publicist.”

“Well, I’d be firing their incompetent asses now, unless it makes things awkward at Christmas, of course.” she smiled, hoping a bit humour would dig her out of this big hole. 

4….

“Who says it wasn’t awkward beforehand? I know you’re a singer but if there’s any chance you want to be my publicist let me know.” 

“I’m not the nagging type but I’m also not the kiss-your-ass type either.”

3….

“Why? Don’t you like my ass?”

“If I was your publicist right now I’d say that ego is not attractive,” she shot back slyly. “And it might be difficult for me to lie if I was asked to deny it.”

1…

“I wouldn’t want you to lie, love,” he murmured. “Your honesty is the best part about you.”

As the countdown ended and the cheers sounded out, it was as if an invisible magnet pulled them together. She thought he was a bit of an ass and he seemed to be going through an artistic crisis, but their kiss lasted much longer than the prescribed time. 

And it felt good.

So good.

Caroline didn’t want to enjoy it or him but the idiot had messed with her resolve. She pulled back, trying to find her balance and bearings as she did. “I’ve got to get going and sing some Auld Lang Syne.” She couldn’t miss the disappointment as it crossed his face.

“Thank you,” he offered as she walked away. 

“For what?” She couldn’t resist, turning around briefly. 

“For being honest.” She smiled briefly, the warmth flooding through her body before heading towards the make-shift stage. 

She left not long after her set finished making her way from the venue. She hadn’t seem him again, probably best because guys like that weren’t her type. It was only when she passed him conversing with a very annoyed brunette who was questioning his absence during the countdown that Caroline realised he had a girlfriend but was kissing her instead. Her instincts were obviously right. 

Unfortunately she hadn’t stopped thinking about him or that kiss since. He’d sparked something inside that Caroline hadn’t expected. Bastard. She’d even shamefully looked him up on the internet and realised he had multiple girlfriends around the place. She really should have known. 

Caroline had always hated New Year’s Eve but now she decided it was best to avoid it at all costs. It was too much trouble. 

They will hold onto you…

“He’sholding a party tonight at a place called the Original Gallery. Ineed to be there,” Katherine pleaded, choosing to ignore herindiscretions. “I think this guy is my soulmate Care, I can just feel it.” 

“Andthis is your way of convincing her to come, how?” Bonnie rolled her eyes. 

“You know art, Care. It would help if you were there as my wing woman.” 

Granted she loved to visit galleries in her spare time and had recently enrolled in an art history course at UT but it didn’t make her an expert. Far from it, in fact. This was most definitely a stretch on Kat’s part, not that she was surprised.

“How about no?”

“How about you think about it and lose some of that Creature of the Black Lagoon act, you know hating everyoneand everything in your wake?”  

“Another stellar reason for her to agree,” Bonnie observed. 

“Please Care, you can stay in the corner of the room away from all people if that helps.”

“And Ihear the Hors d'oeuvres are going to be phenomenal if that’s anyconsolation,” Bonnie suggested.

Caroline bit her lip, torn between helping her annoying friend and the comfort of her couch. If she had any doubts, they were sealed when Katherine removed the remote control batteries and placed them securely in her purse.

“You are officially evil,” Caroline scowled. 

“Howabout we talk about this while you change,” she smirked, throwing the dress (orbelt) in her direction. She was tempted to wipe the triumphant expression fromher face but decided to leave that for when she needed it most. 

“Ihate you.”

“Ilove you too, Forbes.”

Fastforward three hours and Caroline was attempting to pull down her dress withoutmuch luck, it was still too short for her liking. If she had something else She was gladat least that Katherine and Bonnie seemed to be otherwise engaged.

Turns out Katherine had a thing for the art critic she’d met all those years ago. He still looked good in a suit but if anyone was a match for his disdain it was Katherine. His brother Kol, an indie film director, was in deep conversation with Bonnie. 

It gave her chance to peruse the artwork, and it was some of the most brilliant she’d ever seen. What she hadn’t expected on entering was it to be at his show.

Of all people. 

Caroline had no intention of seeing him again. She wasn’t some groupie even if his work was suddenly brilliant. She also noted that the clock was moving freely past midnight and the lastplace she wanted to be was in a big group of strangers.

Carolinetook the opportunity to escape towards the toilets. In her haste shemissed the marked doors and found herself in what seemed like a makeshiftstudio. It wasn’t her first getting lost, after all. 

The lights were dimmed but she could make out the canvases lined upagainst the walls and the easel in the centre of the room which caught herattention.

Carolineshivered slightly, not sure whether it was the cool temperature or thespectacular art stealing her attention. She noticed a white, paintsplattered shirt hanging nearby, slipping it over her barely theredress without much thought. Suddenly she felt extremely comfortable, it didn’thurt that the familiar scent emanating from the collar was the perfect mixture of spiceand soap.

Shemade her way towards the easel, her hand reaching out and tracing the longbrush strokes.

“Doyou usually break and enter and steal people’s clothes?” She couldn’t see him but his crisp, Britishaccent was messing with her concentration. Mainly because of just how familiar it was, even after five years. 

“Itook a wrong turn,” she shot back. “And it’s pretty cold when your bestfriend decides you should wear a belt disguised as a dress.”

“Funnyyou mention it, I have that problem all the time.”

“I’llbet you do,” she laughed. It was nice to let loose for a change. As he came into view it was difficult not to react. The semi insecure artist from years ago was oozing confidence in dark jeans and a grey henley. “I’m sorry to tell you this but your work is kind of…”

“Kind of?” A low, self-conscious growl emanated from his throat. 

“Is someone worried?”

“You were the one who made me better before but if I need a kick up the ass I’m willing to take it.”

“Well, given our history, you know I’m not a fan of your ass,” she teased. Apparently he was an ass but it was so difficult not to react to his banter.

“I signed up to the gym straight away, my New Year’s Resolution,” he shared. “I also tried to track you down but you never returned my messages. I’d be lying if I said you didn’t give me a complex and not just because of the body shaming.”

“Says the guy who was absent from sharing a midnight kiss with his brunette girlfriend. I saw you two when I left.”

“I didn’t have a girlfriend,” he murmured, his mind obviously racing. “Hayley and I had a brief thing but she turned up that night insisting we get back together. I haven’t thought about anyone but you since that night. She was never really my type.”

“And what is your type exactly?”

“Smart, beautiful, feisty and outspoken. Tells me my work is bad, tells me my family are overbearing and that I’m an arrogant ass. And looks far better in my shirt than me. All of it factually correct.”

“Was there any question? But also….”

“Hang on, I wasn’t finished,” he interrupted. “You were the only person who was honest about my work. You saved me.”

“Now, I think you’re being a little dramatic,” she murmured, hoping he wasn’t. “Why are you here of all places?”

“I’ve been trying to track you down for years,” he said before clarifying. “I hate New Year’s Eve but you made it better five year’s ago and I’m hoping you’ll consider..” 

“Consider what?”

“A truce of sorts.”

And I will hold onto you…

[churchill01bland-blog]

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You Can’t Change the Mind of Steven Crowder, and It’s Not Worth Trying

by Brice Ezell

If you know Steven Crowder, it’s likely for the meme seen above, derived from his “Change My Mind” series on his YouTube channel and CRTV show, Louder with Crowder. In this series, Crowder places himself in various locales — typically university campuses, though he also took the streets of my own Austin, TX for one installment — and invites people to challenge him on his deeply held views, which thus far have included, to name a few: “There are Only Two Genders,” “Hate Speech Doesn’t Exist,” “I’m Pro-Life,” and “Trump is Not a Fascist.” Each one of these “Change My Minds” is equal part provocation and, ostensibly, invitation to debate: rather than sit in his CRTV studio 24/7, addressing a paying audience who largely shares his views, Crowder does attempt to get his viewpoints out into the public, subject the scrutiny of any passersby. 

Yet it’s not long into any one of these “Change My Mind” segments — to say nothing of his other YouTube videos — that the veneer of respectable debate, well, starts looking a lot less respectable. Like Nathan J. Robinson, I hold the view that debates between the political left and right, when done well, are important and can advance civil discourse in helpful ways. So when I first heard about Crowder and saw that, unlike a cheap shock jock, he actually invited anyone to debate him, I thought for a (fleeting) moment that he might be someone invested in actually facilitating substantive debate on the important issues of our divisive political times. 

Crowder, it turns out, is not that person. Above all else, he occupies the role of comedian/pundit for the right wing, so his primary responsibility is to entertain and, as a result of the directive to entertain, sensationalize. His YouTube video titles include things like “OMG GENDER POLITICS GAP!” and “TOP 5 Reasons Elizabeth Warren’s a RACIST FRAUD!” The seeming invitation into debate that is the “Change My Mind” title quickly morphs into a presumptuous imperative when you read video titles like “Why the Left HATES Successful People.” (The latter is a curious notion, given that Crowder, like many right-wingers, calls out “SJW” corporations in Silicon Valley and elsewhere for their supposed “identity politics,” and those companies are nothing if not successful.) As a pundit, Crowder’s mandate is to make arguments, but not really to debate. Debate requires fairness, some mutual understanding, and above all else clash, i.e. arguments which interact in some kind of competing form. Crowder has a segment on his channel called “Devil’s Advocate” in which he, playing a quasi-hipster character called “Skyler Turden,” performs the classical fallacy known as the straw man, which a textbook example of bad debating, where no real clash exists. 

The appeal of a segment like “Change My Mind” hinges on the very possibility hinted at by the title: that the person making that request is actually open to having their mind changed. On his show, Crowder gives little impression he is open to a serious challenge to his political views. Normally it would be just enough to say that Crowder is a pundit, not a politician or a researcher, i.e. people who make discursive arguments as a big part of their living. As a pundit, Crowder need only say his opinions and successfully monetize them by building an audience, and that he has done. But with “Change My Mind” and other segments on Louder with Crowder — for instance, his trotting out of the oft-repeated right wing claim that lefties can’t handle debate, which is why they shut right-wing speakers out of universities — Crowder appears to show great concern for debate and discourse. To those unfamiliar with his history or his style, then, Crowder seems to be someone who actually cares about discursively defending right-wing views, rather than simply being, well, louder about them. 

This rhetorical move on the part of Crowder, as I undoubtedly have already made clear, is thoroughly disingenuous. However, instead of merely calling Crowder a pundit and moving on, I want to analyze an example of his argumentative style, through which I will show that Crowder is not interested in debate, and has no meaningful argumentative strategy that would actually produce a debate worth having. 

The example I’ve selected is a video response by Crowder to a Vox video entitled, “Admit it. Republicans have broken politics,” presented by Carlos Maza. I chose this video because I think Maza’s argument is a strong one — one I happen to agree with, though like any argument it is of course debatable — and therefore affords Crowder an opportunity to have a serious debate, rather than a pundit vs. pundit war where the only metric is who can shout their opinions the loudest and most creatively. What we get with Crowder, unfortunately, is punditry, not real debate, and it doesn’t take long for his “rebuttals” to Maza to start wearing thin. 

Before I get into the specifics of this Crowder/Vox debate, an overview. It is important to know that there is a single failure of political thinking – one many of Crowder’s fellow conservative commentators like Ben Shapiro also commit – which muddles Crowder’s argumentation throughout all of his videos: he equates the terms “Democrat” and “leftist.” In this rather interesting video, Crowder answers a letter from a fan asking, “Should I marry a Crazy Democrat?” The fan writes in the letter that a newfound paramour is a Democrat, and worries “she might be a leftist.” To this, Crowder and his co-hosts reply, “She’s a Democrat, of course she is.” This is pure nonsense. 

Plenty of folks – from the aforementioned Robinson to Elizabeth Bruenig – have effectively demonstrated the distinctions between Democrats and actual leftists, and those between liberals and leftists. But one doesn’t even need to wade into the theory in order to see the distinction between Democrats and leftists: one need only look to the 2016 Democratic presidential primary, in which the competition between a garden-variety leftist (Bernie Sanders, who ran for the Democratic nod despite being an independent) and an elite Democrat (Hillary Clinton) further widened the significant rift in the Democratic party between its center/center-right wing (i.e. Clinton) and leftists who actually want to make the Democrats a left-wing party. Even now, establishment Democrats are doing everything they can to prevent Bernie from becoming a name in the 2020 presidential election. Keep in mind that in most Western liberal democracies, Bernie would be little more than a boring social democrat; it’s only in the US, where the political compass is skewed far to the right, that he appears to be some Marxist ideologue to commentators like Crowder. For Crowder’s characterization of the Democrats as “leftists” to hang together at all, his definition of “leftism” would have to incorporate people – like most of the leading Democratic politicians – who without fail vote for every single increase in the military budget, think capitalism is good and fixable, and are more than happy to let major corporations like Apple and Amazon take over major cities. It doesn’t require much else to demonstrate the absurdity of such a definition. 

If the Democratic party truly was “leftist,” Sanders wouldn’t have been perceived as some radical shock, and those at the heart of the party wouldn’t be doing everything they can to ensure that Sanders’ coalition doesn’t take over or gain prominence in the party leading up to 2020. What does this mean for Crowder’s argumentation? It means that when he attempts to argue against Democrats and “leftists,” he commits error after error in conflating the two. A good deal of his rebuttal to Maza’s Vox argument falls into this trap, and rather than parse out every single instance of this happening, I’ll note this broad issue here to further clarify why his rebuttal to Maza is deeply insufficient. 

With that said: in going through Crowder’s video, I’ll break down the arguments as he presents them, where he shows a clip from Maza’s video and then replies to it.

Maza Claim 1: Based on research done by political scientists at UCLA, we can graph the political ideology of members of Congress. With this data, we can see that over time, both parties have moved away from the center, but Republicans have moved much further away than Democrats. Similarly, if you compare Republican and Democratic presidents since Truman, you find that Republican presidents have become more conservative, while Democrats have remained roughly level.

Crowder Responses: (1) “Uh, Bush is more conservative than Reagan? Obama is more conservative than Clinton?”; (2) Insinuates that Vox just made up the graphs itself; (3) Argues against extrapolating this data to suggest that polarization is bad, because if you’re moving in a non-polar direction toward “success” and “truth,” that is preferable; (4) Points out that “just days” before the release of this video, “noted Democratic activist Julia Louis-Dreyfuss” compared Trump to the Holocaust.

(1) These questions are meant to undermine the data, but it’s not obviously clear why either of these claims of the data – that Reagan can be understood as less conservative than Bush II, or that Obama was less liberal than Bill Clinton – are so absurd as to deserve the mocking tone with which Crowder delivers them. Off the top of my head, I can point out that Reagan’s decision to give amnesty to millions of undocumented immigrants would get him expelled from the post-2000s GOP, and Obama deported more people than anyone in recent US history. I could go on, but the point is: Crowder gives us little reason to question the charts.

(2) The graphs were not made up by Vox, and come from an extensive series of data gathering by the University of California at Los Angeles political science department. Not hard to figure this out.

(3) This is a point, actually, that Crowder and the left would be in agreement on: namely, that “centrism” or “meeting in the middle” is not an inherent virtue. Unfortunately for Crowder’s argumentation, this is a view where the Democrats and the left diverge, as Democrats trip over themselves to find ways to reach across the aisle. Hillary Clinton proudly owned the label of “centrist” (or “moderate”) in the run-up to the 2016 election. But this is skipping ahead to a later part of the argument; Crowder just flags this here briefly – more on that later. 

(4) Julia Louis-Dreyfuss is a celebrity. She may speak out for Democratic-backed causes from time to time, but she is far from an activist, or anyone that could be said to speak for the majority of the party. But, most importantly, even if Crowder’s interpretation of the Louis-Dreyfuss video he quotes is accurate – and I don’t think it is – Crowder responds to meticulously gathered data by… pointing to one example, as if a single celebrity video proves that the Democrats are actually as far left as Republicans are far right. One example does not an argument make.

Maza Claim 2: Being a “queer, tree-hugging atheist with immigrant parents,” Maza knows that he’s a bit obvious in criticizing Republicans. So rather than just rely on his own argumentation, he turns to Norman Orenstein of the American Enterprise Institute to further establish the claims about polarization. 

Crowder Responses: (1) Orenstein is a “token independent conservative who makes his living bashing the GOP”; (2) The use of Orenstein is a “lie” to hide the “subjective” opinion of Maza, and is the equivalent of saying “I have a black friend” to prove you aren’t racist; (3) Mitch McConnell “called Orenstein out” for being an “old fashioned far-left guy.”

I’ll group all of these together here, as they all in the same way signal Crowder’s unwillingness to engage the substance of the debate. Nowhere does Crowder actually show why Orenstein is a non-credible source; his tactic is essentially to just undermine the idea that Orenstein is actually conservative. We’re to trust the opinion of Mitch McConnell – one of the most ghoulish living politicians (here, here, and here are good places to start reading why that’s true) – in calling Orenstein “far left” because, uh, reasons? Crowder doesn’t give any, except to call McConnell “cocaine Mitch,” a name only true in that, like cocaine, McConnell should be illegal.

Maza’s use of Orenstein isn’t “hiding” subjective opinion; he’s using another expert to back up his own opinion. Debate should operate in this way, and invoking an expert doesn’t necessarily mean saying, “I am right because this expert is infallible,” but because all of us should look to people who have extensively researched issues to back up our viewpoints. That’s all Maza is doing. Bringing Orenstein onboard doesn’t mask his argument, for it is part of his argument. The fact that Crowder first chooses to attempt to rubbish Maza’s source, instead of directly addressing the matter of Orenstein’s research, puts him on argumentatively thin ice from the outset.

Lastly: the words “far-left” and “American Enterprise Institute” are mutually incompatible. The Institute is widely regarded as a right-wing think tank, an experience I can confirm firsthand, having attended a conference there as an undergraduate. Just about every single proposal and speech I heard that weekend would not have made a single member of the current GOP bristle in the slightest. Nor would this description from AEI’s “About” page have anything in it with which Crowder would disagree: “We are committed to making the intellectual, moral, and practical case for expanding freedom, increasing individual opportunity, and strengthening the free enterprise system in America and around the world.” AEI is nonpartisan, but its aims and research agendas are undeniably conservative – far from a place where a far lefty would find employment, let alone want to work.

Maza Claim 3: “There is no question” that the GOP’s goals have become more extreme over the past decade. George W. Bush talked about a “rational middle ground” for immigration policy, whereas Donald Trump is a hardliner who talks about “deportation forces.”

Crowder’s Response: Why compare Bush to Trump? Why not compare Obama to Trump, when we see in a pre-2008 election clip that Obama said that “those who entry the country illegally and those who employ them disrespect the rule of law?” Trump’s policy is just Obama’s policy put into full effect “for the betterment of the country!”

First off: congrats, Steven, you found another place where you and the left are in agreement! The left consistently called out Obama for his immigration rhetoric, and his hardline deportation policies. The Democrats undercut a good deal of their argumentation against Trump’s immigration views by the actions they undertook during Obama’s eight year term as president. That is true.

But Crowder’s move here is the classic “whataboutist” strategy that animates most right-wing punditry: “You don’t like this? Well the Democrats did something similar!” It’s a form of argument that doesn’t engage with the substance of the claim (i.e. the rightness or wrongness of a particular action) and instead diverts to hypocrisy gaming that advances the conversation very little. Additionally, it’s a strategy typically accompanied by false equivalency, as is the case here: Obama did not propose a giant wall on the US/Mexico border, nor did Obama enact a widespread policy of family separation (see here and here), though some family separations did occur under previous administrations, albeit never in the formalized way enacted by Trump.

In this case, Crowder ducks Maza’s claim: his point is that there is a marked difference between how Bush and Trump, both Republican, handled immigration. Pointing to Obama in between them does not disprove that. All it does is prove the opposite of a point Crowder tried to make earlier: that the Democrats, far from being left-wing, have moved to the center and even to the right on some issues, immigration being one of them.

And I question anyone calling the abhorrent family separation and detention camp policy on the border a “betterment for the country.” A sane person would call it a stain on this country’s history. Even if you’re an absolute hardliner on immigration, the logical thing would be to send illegal immigrants back to their country of origin, not to separate their families as a needless act of cruelty on top of it. (Not that mass deportation, a policy not justified by Crowder here, would be a better solution.)

Maza Claim 4: Richard Nixon, a Republican president, founded the EPA; now, Republicans campaign on abolishing it.

Crowder Responses: (1) So what? The EPA had a purpose, now it doesn’t. (2) The Democrats used to the party of the KKK, which brings out a contradiction between Maza’s video and another Vox video about the “southern strategy” in the mid-20th century: how could the Democrats have changed so much, if as Maza claimed earlier in the video that the Democrats have “stayed the same” while the Republicans have moved further to the right?

(1) For a conservative like Crowder, obviously anti-EPA is a fairly orthodox position. But Maza’s point is about the rightness or wrongness of the EPA primarily: it’s about Republican attitudes toward environmental protection. His point is that just about half a century ago, Republicans founded a major agency to enshrine environmental protections; now, with climate change-related externalities more pressing than they were in Nixon’s administrations, Republicans want to scale back environmental projections. That is, objectively, a more extreme, more right-wing view. People can debate the legitimacy of those views, of course, but Maza’s video isn’t about debating climate policy; it’s about charting the intellectual color of a party, and the EPA example is a fine one to illustrate the further rightward swing of the GOP.

(2) Crowder here willfully distorts and mishandles the comparison between the illustration of the Southern Strategy in the other Vox video and the graphs presented at the start of Maza’s piece. Maza himself said the Democrats have changed, and have drifted further from the center to the left (albeit not as far as the Republicans have drifted to the right, per his argument). Note that the graph Maza shows at the beginning of the video starts at 1960, right around the time that the Southern Strategy was being put into place; were the graph extended back to the 1900s, it would show a dramatic shift in the Democratic party.

For more on the Southern Strategy, and why despite Crowder’s skepticism it is definitely a thing, historian Kevin M. Kruse (Princeton University) assembled a useful Twitter breakdown of the Southern Strategy and how it manifested in the Republican/Democratic shifts in the mid-20th century.

Maza 5: The governing methods of Republicans have become more extreme and anti-compromise over time. Data shows that Republicans have used more filibusters than any other party when they are not in power.

Crowder Responses: There are two factors to consider in the filibuster graph: (1) Opposition parties are more likely to use the filibuster (2) Use of the filibuster correlates with a “sharp rise” in executive orders and “power grabs” unprecedented in modern history.

(1) Okay, well, even if it is true that opposition parties are more likely to use the filibuster, this does not take away from the fact that the two highest peaks – without any nearby competition – on the filibuster graph are Obama’s first two years, when he hadn’t even proposed much of his legislation yet. The point of Maza’s use of the graph is, “The Republicans excessively use the filibuster.” Crowder’s first response does not challenge that in any way.

(2) This argument, a popular one amongst the post-2008 GOP, is complete garbage. Have a gander at the graph below, which lists the number of executive orders (Eos) by president since Truman: 

Obama has the lowest EO-per-year average of any president since Truman, and the lowest total for a two-term president in the post-Truman era. Having not completed his first (and perhaps only) term, Trump hasn’t built a fully representative sample size of EOs, but already his per annum average is 12 points more than Obama’s. Frankly, given the relentless obstruction Obama faced following the 2010 midterms, it’s amazing he didn’t use more EOs. 

Crowder’s only evidence for the “unprecedented executive power” is the widely-disproven talking point (see here and here) that Obamacare was “rammed through” Congress, and several out-of-context soundbites where Obama talks about “using his pen” if Congress didn’t act. As the graph above shows, that was most likely a rhetorical move on Obama’s part, not a marker of policy, and at worst it was an empty threat. (And I find Crowder’s belief in “executive overreach” on this point a bit inconsistent, since I didn’t see any red alerts raised when Trump announced that he intended to repeal birthright citizenship through EO, a far more ludicrous and baldly unconstitutional than anything Obama ever did.) So even if it was true that the filibuster was necessary to counter a power-hungry executive, the facts of Obama’s administration do not square with Crowder’s claims about Republican use of the filibuster. His “argument” is just a talking point with no substance, a hallmark of punditry.

Maza Point 6: Some Republican procedure has not even been for intellectual disagreement; Republicans refused to vote on Obama’s 2016 budget proposal before they even saw it, for example.

Crowder Responses: (1) “No for the sake of no is sometimes okay; as in, 2 trillion more dollars? NOPE!” (2) Republicans refused to look at Obama’s 2016 budget because he failed to submit it on time, and in fact Obama followed budgetary procedure throughout his presidency “ZERO” times.”

(1) This amounts to little more than assertion, and it’s one I know about which Crowder is inconsistent. As far as I can tell, Crowder has never once railed against the US’s largest expenditure, its ginormous military, which is increased just about every year (it should be noted, with near-unanimous bipartisan consensus), nor has he weighed the enormous structural costs of increasing tax cuts for the upper strata of society. From what I can gather of Crowder’s view of government from this point and his previous claim that “polarization isn’t bad so long as you’re going in the direction of the truth,” Crowder’s political view seems to be: “If you’re right, you get to do whatever you want.” That sure doesn’t sound like the deliberative republic set up by the founding fathers so revered by Crowder and his ilk. Generally speaking, I don’t think it’s controversial to say that major issues in government should be debated between respectable adults who are willing to hear the other side out – or, if you rather, “have their mind changed.” Crowder’s vision of the Republican party in this video is a party that is always of the correct opinion, so anything it does must be correct. Seems to me a pretty untenable thesis.

For more on what is called “the deficit troll,” which Crowder uses here to depict Obama as exceptionally spendthrifty, this excellent piece by Adam Johnson shows its absurdity.

(2) Crowder responds to Maza’s claim about the 2016 budget by pulling up a fact about… Obama’s 2012 budget. The timestamp is right there on the screen: this is either a willful misreading or distortion of evidence.

Now, Obama did in his first and second terms submit late budgets. That obviously is a concern, though it’s worth noting that doing so was not unique amongst modern presidents, which further rubbishes Crowder’s claim that Obama was so problematic a president that Republican intransigence was required to keep him in check. Furthermore, while it is fair to point out Obama’s missed budget deadlines, discursively defending the claim that Republicans were therefore justified in rejecting a budget proposal before reading it is an entirely separate claim. “He broke the rules, so we get to do whatever we want” is not a legitimate standard of governance, particularly not for the rule-abiding “constitutionalists” that Crowder and his co-hosts christen themselves in this video and elsewhere.

Maza Point 7: Republicans claimed they would hold the late Antonin Scalia’s vacant Supreme Court seat open even if Clinton won the presidency. For Orenstein, this is not “normal behavior,” and it is rather attributable to a party “attempting to hold the levers of power” as it loses a majority nationwide. 

Crowder Responses: (1) In 1960, Senate Democrats passed a resolution against election-year recess appointments; (2) Obama was a “lame duck” president when he appointed Merrick Garland to fill Scalia’s seat; (3) Democrats “initiated the behavior” of refusing to hold confirmation hearings with Robert Bork in the ‘80s.

(1) and (2) can be grouped together here, as they’re part of a similar line of argument used by conservatives about the behavior of the GOP toward Garland: Democrats would happily do the same in the GOP’s position (“Biden rule!”), and that Obama was basically on his way out.

There are several problems with this line of reasoning. First and foremost, the Senate did pass a resolution against election-year recess appointments in 1960, but Obama’s appointment of Garland was not a recess appointment. A recess appointment occurs when a president appoints someone to a federal office while the Senate is in recess, hence the name. The Senate was not in recess when Obama appointed Garland, nor was Obama a “lame duck,” as that refers to an elected official who is in office while their successor has been elected, and Trump had not been elected when Obama recommended Garland to the Court. Obama, like all presidents, gets elected to four-year terms, and 2016 was his fourth year, meaning he was acting within his legitimately elected powers as president. (And lest anyone say “the Biden rule” proves Crowder’s point: Biden never followed his 1992 suggestion, and later even said “there is no Biden rule.”)

So, yes, Orenstein is correct to say there is no precedent for this behavior, and it is clearly motivated by power. One little detail Crowder leaves out is that his friend “cocaine Mitch” said that the purpose of leaving the seat open was “so the American people could have a say” in the seat – despite the Constitutional structure of the Supreme Court, which is designed to insulate the justices from popular opinion – yet McConnell and other colleagues of his, like “reasonable Republican” John McCain, then said that if Clinton was elected, the GOP would stonewall any of her nominees. That’s about as brazen a declaration of “we don’t care what you think” as there has been in recent memory.

(3) I’m not sure Crowder should stake his case defending the legitimacy of GOP behavior in blocking Merrick Garland’s nomination on Robert Bork, who was rightly denounced for his racist, anti-civil rights political views, and his involvement in the Watergate Scandal, where he was doing Nixon’s bidding. Just a thought. Crowder thinks it’s okay to say “no for no’s sake” irrationally; I think it’s better that people say no when it’s right, and denying Bork a court seat was the right thing to do.

Maza Point 8: When in Obama’s second term Republicans refused to even hear out Obama’s lower-court appointees, Democrats made the “bad but necessary move” to lower the threshold to break a filibuster – the so-called “nuclear option” – from 60 votes to 51 votes. This was an ad hoc response to a problem “created by Republicans.”

Crowder Response: If the Democrats ended the filibuster, it’s their fault, and they have to own up to it.

This response is inadequate for at least two reasons. First, nowhere has Crowder made a positive defense for the Republican-led obstruction of Obama, nor has even attempted at a discursive rationale – apart from a bogus claim about Obama being an executive overreacher – as to why obstruction in general is a good idea. The tone of his view of the Republican party in this video is simple: they’re right, so they get to do whatever they want. Without a positive defense of Republican obstruction, Crowder can’t reasonably claim that lowering the vote threshold (which, to be sure, is a questionable strategic move that requires justification itself) is only the Democrats’ fault. A simple counterfactual: imagine the roles are flipped from 2008-2016, and Democrats are obstructing Republicans. Can anyone imagine Crowder saying, “Well, they’re obstructing, but that’s their right?” I sure can’t.

This leads to the second reason: based on the behavior of Republicans since Trump’s election, can anyone credibly claim that, in the same situation, they would have just lied down and taken it? The post-2010 GOP couldn’t reason with Obama, a boring centrist whose “tyrannical” healthcare plan was invented by Republicans in the ‘90s, and implemented in Massachusetts by a conservative governor and later GOP presidential candidate Mitt Romney; a president who deported more immigrants than any other president in history; a president whose drone warfare in the Middle East should have made him a beloved member of the DC circles bent on spreading US imperialism by violence. In other words, Obama offered the GOP quite a lot of common ground. On strategic grounds, one can debate the choice to lower the vote threshold in the Senate from 60 to 51; an intelligent debate can be had there. But how we got to that point was not by the Democrats being hellbent on crushing norms; if that fact were true, they’d have lowered the vote threshold right after their crushing 2010 midterms defeat, rather than attempt to reach across the aisle for three years until the “break glass in case of emergency” option starts to sound plausible.

Maza and Orenstein’s main point is that situation was caused by Republican obstinance, and they are correct. Maza thinks the nuclear option was right; others can respectfully disagree. But no evidence can plausibly paint the picture that Democratic disregard for normal procedure got us to the stalemate that led to the nuclear option. Just to give two recent examples: many Democrats continued to vote for lower-court Trump nominees, even though in the senate they don’t have enough votes to block any nominees. That is to say, rather than signal opposition without costing them any political capital, Democrats continue to play ball with a party that is openly contemptuous of the will of the people. And what were some of Nancy Pelosi’s first words when the Democrats won back the House in the 2018 elections? Not, “We will deny the Democrats anything they want.” Once again, the “bipartisan” buzzword was trotted out, a fool’s errand in the face of a ruling party whose mantra is not the Constitution, but “our way or the high way.” 

Crowder then ends the video with a litany of spurious claims, ones largely rendered incoherent by the prenominate collapsing of “Democrats” with “progressives” and “leftists”, including:

(1) The claim that Kavanaugh’s accusers were all liars; this, despite the fact that most commentators agreed Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony was credible (and if you’re going to care about “truth,” maybe don’t back an unrepentant liar like Kavanaugh himself – see here and here).

(2) The Democrats “have always been the party of the KKK and segregation”; the Democrats were this for much of their existence, but, yes, since the Southern Strategy, things have changed, and last I checked it wasn’t a Democratic president who said that a group of Neo-Nazis in Charlottesville who eventually killed a woman “were very nice people.”

(3) The Democrats have become “radically left and gone for power-grabs”; despite the fact that, for much of the past 20 years, Republicans have controlled most branches of government and most state houses across the United States; and that, as I said earlier, any party that consistently votes for more military spending, bank bailouts, and corporate takeovers of major cities and urban areas cannot be in any sane universe called “left.” Talk to an actual leftist, Steven: most of them do not like or outright loathe the Democratic party, and only vote for it when they feel it is strategically necessary.

(4) The Democrats have become “anti-free speech” and want to do away with private firearms ownership; this, despite that there is not a single policy proposed by Democrats remotely approaching this, and Obama famously received an “F” grade from pro-gun control groups. This is such transparent fearmongering it deserves no more response than that.

(5) The Democrats have gone from advocating “safe, legal, and rare” abortions to “abortion on demand”; this is again another warrantless claim, and one that doesn’t really square with the evidence, given that Hillary Clinton said she would be open to constitutional restrictions on late abortions so long as they included exceptions for the life and health of the mother.

(6) The Democrats “enable Antifa,” even though most majority Democratic leaders like Nancy Pelosi openly condemned Antifa and violent protestors, and even Vox – which Crowder wants to paint as some kind of far-left, progressive outlet (when in fact it’s a favorite of centrist wonks) – ran a piece expressly making a case against Antifa.

Crowder then argues that the right is only “polarized” in the sense that it is aligning itself with the truth against the open falsehoods of “the left”/Democrats/progressives, a nebulous group he clearly ill understands. Given how incapable Crowder is of articulating the basic beliefs of the Democrats and the left, and of owning up to the anti-governance of the GOP post-2010, I’m going to go ahead and give the win to Maza, who at least doesn’t misrepresent sources, make wild claims without any evidence, and seriously mishandle the evidence he uses to advance his own side.

So at the end of all of this, I find it hard to come to any other conclusion than this: if you see Crowder filming a “Change My Mind” segment near you, don’t go expecting a real debate. When presented with a reasonable (but, of course, completely debatable) video, Crowder does everything but directly clash with the argument at hand. Just because someone proclaims themselves to be invested in debate doesn’t mean that they’re worth engaging. Based on how Crowder characterizes the GOP in this video – ahistorical and evidence-deficient as it is – and his own argumentative methodologies, Crowder thinks that he and fellow conservatives know all the answers, and that presenting arguments against them necessarily means falling into the “false” side of a “true/false” binary. If that’s Crowder’s view of the world, there’s no debate, no changing of mind, no reasoned discourse. It’s the all-too-familiar mantra of “you’re with us or you’re against us.” Facing that worldview, you might as well debate the brick wall in front of which Crowder sits.