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theasstour · 4 years

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Monday, 25 September 2017

It was strange to Y/N that she was enjoying herself as much as she was just then in an educational setting. In school, she had never really liked any of the subjects besides English, and here at uni, she got to sit and listen to professors who were truly experts on English literature ramble on about Othello and specific analysis on act 3 scene 3. She loved every single second of it, and was sure she could sit there for hours on end just listening to her professors. At one point she was sure this would all get tiring and she’d hate University, but in that moment, hearing her professor, Richard, talk about things that truly interested her, was such a breath of fresh air compared to what she had experienced previously.

The door to the lecture hall opened, and since the doors were right by the blackboard where Richard stood talking about Othello and the ‘temptation’ scene, all eyes landed on the blonde girl in pink shorts and a white jumper. She smiled at Richard, mouthing a “sorry” before taking the first free seat she could find, which was conveniently right beside Y/N. The two girls shared a small smile themselves before Y/N went back to focusing on the lecture happening in front of her. Y/N was hunched over her notebook, writing something off from the PowerPoint slide displayed on the wall in front of her. She did not know how much time went by, she was listening too intently to care about that, but suddenly, the blonde beside her rested her back against the seat and leaned a little closer to Y/N.

“This is quite boring, innit?”

Y/N looked to her left, and to her surprise, realised that the girl who had walked in late was Chloe. The same Chloe who she had met when she registered a week and some ago. She must have been too caught up in the lecture to pay proper attention to her surroundings.

Chloe let out a small chuckle, nodding in the direction of the PowerPoint before she continued to whisper. “The lecture. I knew we’d be discussing Shakespeare in Introduction to English Studies, but Othello’s just fucking boring, innit?”

“I…” Y/N looked at the PowerPoint for a few seconds, then back at Chloe. “Sure.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, Chloe just studying Y/N, eyes searching her face. “You like Othello.”

Y/N felt a sudden urge to relate to Chloe. Since they had met earlier and since she hadn’t made tons of friends on her course yet, she wanted Chloe to be her mate. If they got off on the wrong foot today, they might never sit next to each other again.

“It’s not as good as Twelfth Night, not as bad as Julius Caesar.”

Chloe continued to just look at Y/N, but suddenly, a smile came creeping over her lips. “Take it you like Shakespeare.”

“I like analysing his work, yeah.”

“More of a Modernism, and sometimes Postmodernism, girl myself.”

“I’m not big on either of those.”

Chloe let out a small chuckle again. “You won’t be taking Postmodernism next year then?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Chloe only crossed her arms and stared ahead, still smiling. For a second Y/N was afraid she might have said something to make Chloe detest her, but the next, she reminded herself that she had to live her truth regardless of what anyone said about it. “Guess we’ll just have to enjoy each other’s company in the core modules then.”

Y/N felt a few butterflies in her stomach at that and could not help smiling back at Chloe when their eyes met again.

“How come I haven��t seen you at any Freshers parties yet?” Chloe asked.

“Been busy applying to jobs and such,” Y/N explained. “Gotta get one as fast as possible ‘cause I need money to live.”

“Ahh, fair.” Chloe nodded. “One of my course mates, Hayden – think they’re up there somewhere –“ Chloe pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, indicating further up the lecture hall. “Has decided they’re going to start an Uno society.”

“Uno?” Y/N frowned. “As in the card game?”

“Yeah,” Chloe laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be nice and all, but they’re very passionate about it. Have yet to come out with me, Thian, and Annalise. Those are my other course mates, by the way.”

Y/N nodded. Was she just incompetent at making friends or was Chloe just very good at it? How had she made so many friends, made a small group by the sounds of it, and Y/N had barely talked to anyone on her course yet?

“Hayden promised to come out this Friday, though,” Chloe smiled. “You should come, too.”

For some reason, both nerves and excitement rushed through Y/N at that. She smiled back. “I’d love that.”

“Wicked. It’s at my Dinwiddy flat.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Uni accommodation at Helmond is a huge piss take, I tell you. I feel like there’s mould everywhere.”

“That’s just UK houses in general. We’ll all die from it one day.”

“It’s literally disgusting,” Chloe said. “Also, one of my flatmates never does his dishes. It’s minging. And it’s started smelling, too.”

“Oh, my days.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad I just immediately moved in with my best mate instead of going through the whole uni accommodation thing. At least I can be assured that they do their dishes and no food’s left on the kitchen counter for too long.”

“Oh, that sounds lush.”

The people around Y/N and Chloe were all starting to pack their things and get out of their seats. Seeing as the two of them were sat by the edge of the row, they had to get up rather fast and let people through. So, that’s what they did. Y/N put her notebook and pencil case in her rucksack and slung it onto her back before she and Chloe made their way out of the lecture hall and out into the hallway beyond.

“There they are,” Chloe grinned, waving as she saw a small group of three standing by the wall a bit further down. “Come say hi.” Though Chloe wasn’t looking at her, Y/N assumed she was talking to her, so she followed her over to the rest. “Gang, this is Y/N, the one I met while we were both registering.”

“Ah, you’ll be Y/N, then,” a man with protruding cheekbones, a strong jawline, and deep set, brown eyes said. The Viet man’s smile lit up the room they were standing in, and it made Y/N’s overthinking ebb. “I’m Thian, pleasure to meet you. Chloe told us she met you, but never saw you since.”

“Proper rude of the universe to keep us away from each other for so long,” Chloe said.

“I’m Hayden,” a smaller person said with the greenest eyes and long brown hair. They too had a smile like Thian’s, but this one displayed crooked teeth, which made Y/N more at ease with her own bottom teeth that were the same.

“And I’m Annalise,” the last one said, her hair dyed an unnatural dark red colour that Y/N absolutely loved. “I think I saw you in a Critical Reading seminar.”

“Oh, yeah, I think we might be.”

“We’ll have to sit next to each other next time!”

Y/N could detect a slight accent, but she could not tell where Annalise was originally from. She suspected Germany, there were tons of international students here after all, but Y/N did not want to assume.

“Guys, we have to plan the first Uno society meeting,” Hayden said, looking at the time on their phone. “It was so nice to meet you, Y/N, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

She just smiled. “No, totes get that. I need to get back to my flat, anyway.”

“See you around, then,” Chloe smiled, waving as the four of them walked off.

Y/N walked home to Orsman Road. Though she knew there would be less walking if they took the tube, it would also mean that she had to walk on and off boiling hot tube trains and stations, and she was not about to do that. She was sweating enough in the late September sun as it was, she did not need the tube to contribute to her sweat moustache as well. Instead, she plugged her earbuds in and listened to her most recent playlist on Spotify, humming along to her favourite tunes as she walked.

She stopped by Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland station, buying herself a sausage roll and an iced latte before walking the rest of the stretch home. Hackney bustled around her, with tons of cars, double deckers, and mopeds driving by, as well as all types of people milling to and from work. The early autumn sun was still a little too hot, but it seemed like most Londoners were soaking up the sun while they could. They were walking by in shorts, tee shirts, and summer dresses, while the only reason why Y/N was dressed in her tee shirt and trousers, was so she would not quite literally go up in flames on the way home.

Y/N arrived at Orsman Road not long after her trip to Gregg’s, and walked up to the flat. She locked the door once she was indoors, checking the kitchen and the living room to see if anyone was there. To no one’s surprise, none of her three other student flatmates were home in the middle of the day on a Monday. She walked up the stairs and to her room, letting her door be open so she could air out a bit more. Her windows had been open all day, so her room smelled fresher than normal as she entered. That just reminded her that she had to buy some scented candles or air fresheners to liven up her room.

Putting her rucksack down by her door, Y/N started looking through the two bags that she had yet to pack out from. In one was most of the stuff she’d put on her desk when she finally bought that, and in the other were loads of decorations that she had yet to bring forth. She started pulling out fairylights that she wanted to hang across her room or over her wall, when she heard footsteps. Out of the door directly to the right once you came up the stairs, came a man with short dark hair and a strong build, thin lips and pale skin. He must have heard movements outside his door, because his eyes landed on Y/N almost right away. However, he smiled at her and Y/N immediately knew who this was.

“You’re Y/N, then,” Mason said, walking over to stand in the doorway of her room. “Mason, your third flatmate.”

“Thought I’d never run into you,” Y/N smiled, making his smile grow.

“Yeah, got here like two days ago, and have been all over the place since. Helped some of my mates move into their flats, been at work, and at rugby practice.”

She nodded. “Busy man.”

“Very busy.”

“Lucky I caught you now, then.”

Mason nodded his head. “Would have eventually. Knowing Nath, he’ll probably end up forcing us all to bond as a flat at one point.”

“Sounds horrific.”

“It was. It will be,” Mason laughed, leaning against the doorframe and pushing his hands into his grey joggers.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “It was? He’s done it before?”

“Yeah, our first year. He made everyone in our flat bond, he especially talked about flat yoga sessions and shopping trips when he was drunk or high as a kite.”

She dropped the fairylights and turned her full attention on Mason. “You lived together your first year?”

Mason just looked at Y/N, blinking a few times. “Yeah.”

“All three of you?”

“All three of us. Me, Nathan, Harry, and like five girls.”

Y/N felt like screaming, but lucky for her dignity and Mason’s ears, the front door opened and closed. Nathan’s singing could be heard all the way upstairs. Instead of screaming, Y/N called Nathan’s name, not caring that Mason saw just how annoyed she was now. Poor bloke had no idea what he’d just said. Nathan strolled up the stairs and looked in Y/N’s room’s direction, his face lit up at the sight of Mason and Y/N together.

“What a view!” he grinned. “What’re you two bonding over?”

“Right now we’re bonding over being your friend,” Y/N said.

“Which I’m sure you’re both honoured to be, yes.”

“And I just heard you’ve lived with Mason and Harry for the last year, but have not told me,” Y/N said, ignoring Nathan’s previous comment.

Nathan looked to Mason, and then back at Y/N. “No, Harry moved in later. He lived in another flat first, hated it, and since him and Mason were good mates, he got to move into our place since one of our flatmates dropped out our first week.”

Not caring that she would smudge her makeup, Y/N ran her hands over her face. “How long did he live there, Nate?”

Silence for a second or two. “Start of second semester till we moved out.”

Y/N let go of a heavy sigh. “Nathan, why didn’t you just tell me?-“

“-I know, I know, I know,” Nathan started, walking into Y/N’s room and sitting down on the floor beside her. “I’m a shite friend.”

“You really fucking are,” Y/N said, swatting Nathan’s hand away when he tried to take hers. “Harry was both of our friend when he lived in Notts those months, and I literally had sex with him.”

Mason took a small step back in pure shock, blinking rapidly as if an eyelash fell onto his eye.

“Don’t I have a right to know you’re living with him?” Y/N asked.

“You do. Of course, you do. I just… I thought I told you at one point, and when I got home and I found out I hadn’t told you… I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“How about just telling me?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “Instead of hiding it from me like that.”

“Technically, I didn’t hide anything ‘cause I thought I-“

“-Nathan, I’ll literally skin you alive-“

“-Fine, I should have told you,” he groaned, taking her hand this time and holding it tight in his. “How can I make it up to you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, but came up with the perfect solution. “By coming with me when I go out with my course mates on Friday?”

Nathan just looked at her, blinking once. “My punishment is to… go out with you and your mates?”

“Yes. I barely know them, I need moral support. No matter how bad the person giving me said support actually is.”

Nathan looked down at their hands, patting hers slightly. “I’ll come.”

“Thanks.”

He continued to look down at their hands as Mason’s quiet footsteps back to his room sounded throughout the first floor. “I do have a lecture that finishes at 7pm-“

“-You’ll skip that lecture if you so have to.-”

“-Yes, ma’am,” Nathan answered without hesitation, kissing her hand and getting up from the floor. He gave her a small smile. “And I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you.”

Y/N nodded. “Is there… Is there more you haven’t told me? In regards to Harry?”

Nathan pretended to think for a few seconds, eyes getting big as if he remembered something.

“Nath?”

He chuckled. “No, nothing.”

Y/N hit him on his calf before he walked away. “You’re bloody buying the first round of drinks on Friday.”

“As I should,” was all Nathan said before he danced off to his room. Y/N picked up her fairylights again, trying to get them out of the messy tangle they were currently in so she could finally make this room look like her and her new home.

Friday, 29 September 2017

Y/N was nervous. She was usually nervous before going someplace she had never been before, or to meet people she had never met, but it was never like this. Her nerves were almost always drowned by her natural eagerness to be around people, to be surrounded by friends and strangers. However, this, her first pre-drinks at uni with other people, had her feeling a little too nervous for her own tastes.

She loved parties. Fuck, if she could party every single day, she would. She did not care about the hangover that came the following day, as long as she had a good time the night before. At home in Nottingham, she would have loved to party as much as she had in London, but for some reason, meeting as many new people as she had, made her nervous for some reason. It was weird to Y/N because she loved making friends, but it was different here. She had yet to figure out what about University that triggered this reaction out of her.

A knock sounded at her door and she grunted, which Nathan took as a good enough sign for him to be allowed entrance. He grinned, sitting down on Y/N’s fluffy dark blue duvet cover and looked his best friend up and down.

“Lush,” he said.

Y/N glanced at the mirror in front of her again, running her hands down her sides. Her black ruched detail ribbed crop top fit her perfectly, making her tits look exceptionally good, and the gold necklace and earrings topped it all off. The crop jeans in light wash blue were tightened at the waist by a black belt with silver eyelets, the black lace up boots made her almost as tall as Nathan. Though Y/N had been out on town in Nottingham with this very same outfit, she was unsure about it now. There was a familiar fear in the back of her head; one that had not visited in a while, one that would lay low until it saw fit to paralyse her. Y/N was experiencing only the tip of the iceberg now. The rest would reveal itself later, it would all melt and drown her in nervous ticks and anxious tendencies.

God, she hated how nervous she was. This was not like her at all. Nathan knew this, which was why he picked up on how unusually quiet his best friend was. He got up from where he was seated on the bed, walking over to Y/N and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What’s up?”

She took a deep breath, looking at him in the mirror. “You remember the party at Jack Lloyd’s?”

“When we were 17?”

“Yeah, and I was nervous to wear that tight-fitting dress? ‘Cause of my stomach?”

“Yes, even though you had no reason to be nervous.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m feeling like that now,” she admitted. “Not as intensely, but it’s there and… I haven’t felt this nervous about being seen in a long time.”

“What do you mean ‘being seen’?”

“When… When you’ve had and still have a hard time accepting yourself, it’s hard to let others look at your body ‘cause you don’t want to exist outside your own head, if that makes sense? Being seen means people will have an opinion, it means they’ll piece together this image of you before even getting to know you. It means them judging you on your looks alone before they get to actually know you.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders a little, Nathan squeezing them ever so slightly. “My confidence is much better now, but I still have those moments every so often when that 17-year-old girl I used to be will come back and whisper something discouraging into my ear.”

Nathan nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck and bringing her to him. She melted into her best friend, taking a grip of his forearms. “I know it’s much easier said than done, but focus on now. You’ve come so far, and though that 17-year-old is part of the reason why you are who you are today, she’s got nothing to do here. 19-year-old Y/N has come so far, she has no time revisiting the past ‘cause she’s going to a party tonight, and it’ll be fucking fantastic, yeah?”

Y/N chuckled, closing her eyes as Nathan planted an encouraging kiss to her cheek. “Guess you’re right.”

“Of course I fucking am.”

She laughed.

“Now, get your vodka, tequila, sourz, or whatever the fuck you’re drinking, and let’s go.” Nathan let go of her and walked to the door, opening it. “You got Chloe’s address?”

“Yeah, it’s Dinwiddy, flat 10.”

“Uni accommodation?”

Y/N huffed, reaching for her purse and putting it over her shoulder. “Did you expect my first-year mates to live anywhere else?”

“Not really. Dunno why I’m shocked.”

Y/N searched through her purse, checking she had everything she needed before reaching for her plastic bag where her drinks were.

“Still remember when I lived in Coopers Court with Harry and Mason. Oh, how time flies.”

Y/N stopped short, narrowing her eyes. “I still cannot believe you didn’t tell me anything about you living in the same flat as Harry your first year at uni.”

Nathan sighed.

“Cannot believe you didn’t tell me he went to Helmond. Cannot believe you wanted us to live together without at least informing me-“

“-Mate, are we done with this?”

“Don’t think I’ll ever be done. You tricked me into this.”

“I did not.”

“What did you think was gonna happen when I found out?”

“We’ve been over this,” Nathan said. “I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal. Harry did not react like this when I told him I promised to live with you my second year, your first year.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, having already heard this.

“In fact, he did not mind one bit living with you.”

“I mind living with him.”

“Clearly, or else we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.”

Y/N tutted, walking past Nathan and down the stairs. “I’ll let this argument be for the time being, but expect me to pick it back up again tomorrow when my mind’s not all over the place. I want to be able to fucking destroy you.”

“Great. Can’t wait.”

Y/N and Nathan started walking in the direction of Dinwiddy, the biggest uni accommodation at Helmond, where most students ended up staying. Parmiter Street was a mere 30-minute walk away, and though they could have easily taken the tube, they both knew that it would be best for them to get some fresh air before drinking. Y/N also wanted to walk off some of her anxiety, though she was fairly certain that would not happen. On one hand she was looking forward to meeting Chloe and the rest of her English Lit gang, on the other, she was nervous. Her nerves came more from fear of experiencing the same blinding anxiety she had when she was younger, for that same feeling of helplessness and bottomlessness that it had brought her. What if it appeared when she was drinking? What if it got worse as she got drunk?

She hated how moving away to London and to University had brought her so much doubt. It was like she had to figure out who she was all over again. Here, it was only Nathan who knew her. Well… him and Harry, but the latter did not count. If Y/N so wanted, she could become a new version of herself. She knew that was something uni offered; finding a new you and shaping it into a person you want to be. There were several things Y/N wished she could change about herself. She had a horrible temper, was a little too loud at times, took many things far too personal, and more. She was unsure how much independence and a new environment could help make her a better version of herself, but she hoped Helmond and London could help her to some degree.

Once they arrived at Parmiter Street, Nathan walked straight onto Dinwiddy campus grounds and showed them the way to flat 10. The brown brick buildings rose five storeys high around them, shaping a small T formation with some benches along the stone path where people could sit on the few occasions when the weather would allow it. Nathan had been there the year before, loads of his friends from his Criminology course had lived at Dinwiddy accommodation and therefore hosted pre-drinks there. Nathan knew his way around, and, sure enough, he showed them right to flat 10. On the right hand-side, the first building, Nathan strolled over to the entrance.

He met Y/N’s eyes, trying to get a picture of just how nervous she was. After all, these were her friends, and had they been home in Nottingham, she would not have been this nervous at all. Nathan was not anxious at all, and he had never talked to – never met – Chloe or any of Y/N’s course mates.

“Listen,” Nathan said, giving Y/N a small smile. “If it gets too much, we’ll just go home, yeah? I won’t leave your side.”

Y/N smiled back, nodding her head. “Yeah. I’ll send Chloe a text saying we’re here.”

“We could just ring the doorbell.”

She looked at him. “Nath.”

“Y/N.”

“What were phones invented for if we’re just gonna ring people’s doorbells? I’m sending her a text.”

Nathan reached forward and rang the doorbell, making Y/N raise her eyebrows at him and take a deep breath as not to throw him against the brick building.

“Yes?” came from the speakers beside the doorbells. It was Chloe.

Nathan nudged Y/N, nodding in the direction of the speakers. She glared at him. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ahh, brill!” Chloe unlocked the door for them and Nathan opened it, letting Y/N enter first. They walked over to the stairs, looking at a sign there that showed them flat 10 at the topmost storey.

“They don’t even have a bloody lift, do they?” Y/N asked Nathan as she looked around.

“Gotta walk, mate.”

“Fuck me,” Y/N groaned as they began their ascent.

“I’d rather not.”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed a bit. They made it to the fourth floor, and Y/N knocked on the door as Nathan breathed heavily beside her.

“Hi,” Chloe smiled as she opened the door, stepping aside to let Y/N and Nathan in.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart beat hard inside her chest. Something about Chloe’s smile, the reminder that she had invited Y/N over, that she wanted her there, settled atop Y/N’s shoulders, making them sag to a comfortable level. “Brought my housemate, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” Chloe said, turning to Nathan.

“Nathan,” he smiled. “Thanks for letting me come here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chloe said, closing the door and showing them the way down a corridor towards the shared living space where a heavy bass was throbbing. The fluorescent lights overhead in the hallway resembled those at a petrol station, making Y/N squint as she entered the living room. There sat everyone she had the pleasure of meeting earlier that week. Hayden, Annalise, and Thian were all around the table with a glass each to drink. Y/N smiled at them, waving her hand as they all grinned back at her. She still felt like she was intruding.

“Y/N, Nathan, do you like sambuca?” Chloe asked, walking over to the kitchen bench to fetch plastic shot glasses.

“Never say no to sambuca, ey?” Nathan grinned, nodding for Y/N to go sit down so he could follow her lead. “We’ll have a shot each of you’re handing out.”

“I am, indeed,” Chloe said, getting two shot glasses and walking over to the table, placing the glasses in front of Nathan who looked absolutely ecstatic.

“Thanks, babe,” Y/N said.

“You lot playing a drinking game?” Nathan asked, getting his drinks out to mix them all together into his paper cup.

“Yeah, we’re playing Never Have I Ever,” Hayden answered. “However, if no one drinks, everyone’s got to take a sip except for the person asking, but the person asking’s gotta take two if no one drinks.”

“Ahh, alright,” Nathan said. “Creative. Love it.”

“This is Y/N’s friend, Nathan, by the way, guys,” Chloe said as she came back over with shots for everyone.

“Oh, yeah, this is Nathan. He’s a second-year, we live in a flat together in Haggerston.” Y/N suddenly felt stupid for not introducing him right away so that Chloe had to. She felt her cheeks heat up, but she refused to look like she felt headless. Instead, she got her vodka and cranberry juice out, mixing it as Nathan spoke beside her.

“We’ve known each other forever, so she moved in with me and my flatmates this year instead of moving into uni accommodation,” he elaborated.

“You knew each other in Nottingham?” Chloe asked, and, for some reason, the fact that Chloe remembered that made Y/N feel all kinds of warm.

“Yeah, been best friends for years.”

“How nice that you got to live together here,” Chloe smiled in Nathan’s direction, then at Y/N.

“It is, isn’t it?” Nathan said, looking at Y/N and giving her a small wink before going back to his drink.

“Right, we need to take advantage of being first-years and get drunk as often as possible,” Thian said. “So, tonight needs to be good.”

“It’ll be good regardless,” Annalise retorted, taking one of the shots from the tray Chloe had brought to the table.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Hayden asked.

Thian nodded. “Pub or club?”

“Don’t really feel like clubbing tonight, you know what I mean?” Chloe asked, the other three coming with exclamations of agreement or nodding slightly. “Pub then?”

“We have a pub right by us,” Nathan said. “Only 30 minutes away and it’s the best one in Haggerston, in my opinion anyway.”

Y/N wrinkled her nose some. “The Stag’s Head?”

“Yeah, it’s always full and they sometimes got live music and everything.”

“We could go there, yeah,” Chloe said. “If everyone’s in.”

“Could we take a bus there?” Hayden asked.

“30 minutes isn’t a long walk, though,” Chloe chuckled. “As long as Nathan and Y/N show the way, we won’t get lost.”

“Don’t count on my navigational skills when I’m under the influence, babes,” Nathan said, making the others laugh.

“We’re better off using Google Maps, he might just show the way to the Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland where he thinks the entire staff’s got a crush on him,” Y/N said before taking a sip of her drink, laughter erupting again. It felt good, like a pat on the shoulder, and Y/N instantly eased. Maybe she had not lost her old self at all, maybe she could still feel at ease, even around new people.

“They all flirt with me, and who can blame them?” Nathan shrugged his shoulders, whipping his head to the side so his lush, curly red hair dangled at the top of his head, grinning his wide smile and making the lip piercing shine in the fluorescent lights overhead.

The rest of the night went on, and it was easier to talk to everyone as time progressed. Not only because Y/N got more and more intoxicated, but she also just felt better after getting to know them all. Hayden always laughed the loudest, and their laughter was also very infectious, making it hard not to chuckle along with them. Annalise, though she sometimes stuttered over a few English words, was incredibly considerate and would urge Y/N to continue on with her story when others did not hear her. Thian offered Y/N tons of shots and complimented her on her outfit, making it easier for Y/N to feel good and seen, as she had been terrified of back at the flat. Chloe was easily the boss, and did most of the talking, though no one seemed to mind. After all, Chloe had introduced everyone to everyone, so people knew her the best out of everyone.

As time went on, Y/N just felt better. It was easier to talk to everyone and, at one point, she thought she was back at home in Nottingham, introducing herself to strangers at a party. They all made it easy to forget just how nervous she had been. It made her look forward to seeing them in her other lectures and seminars the coming week and all those weeks after that. Maybe these were the people she would spend her time at University with, and that excited her.

Bottles emptied and the volume inside the uni flat had increased massively. It was close to 9 when Chloe suggested they leave, and assured Y/N that she could leave the little she had left of her vodka at her place to pick up another day. Y/N took her up on the offer, insides warm from both alcohol and Chloe’s hospitality.

Nathan showed the way towards Haggerston and The Stag’s Head, arm entwined with Y/N’s for most of the way there. At one point however, Y/N let go of him and ended up walking beside Annalise and Thian, talking about one of the texts they had to read by Tuesday. It was such a mundane conversation, complaining about course work and talking about coming deadlines, that it felt like they had been mates for ages. The chat flowed so easily, the laughter rolled off their tongues, and it just made sense for all of them to be together, walking along the dark London streets in their tipsy states, making their way towards what would hopefully be the first of many trips to a pub.

They arrived at Orsman Road and they could hear The Stag’s Head before they saw it. Y/N had never paid it much attention. She knew she would end up popping by once or twice during her time at uni, but she had not envisioned her checking it out that first week. Nathan held the door open for everyone, resting a hand at Y/N’s back as he followed her indoors last.

The pub was small, but Y/N was sure that it was bigger than it appeared late on a Friday evening. Straight ahead, in a V formation, stood the bar, a wall filled with bottles of all alcohol imaginable behind it, lit up by red light which fit the dark red of the counter surrounding it. Far down to the left, it seemed the rest of the pub disappeared from view, but judging by the stairs Y/N could see, she supposed there was a loo somewhere in that direction, and it also looked to be where one could go to reach the smoking area. People were both sat and stood by the bar as well as booths along the walls. What appeared to be the stage further down to the right was unoccupied by any performers, though a few lads stood there with a pint each. There were no free tables, and this put a damper on the mood quite quickly.

Nathan, however, pulled them all towards the smoking area and they were all pleasantly surprised to see a free table and two benches untouched. Fairylights hung over the outdoor space, from the house and over to the fence on the other side. It lit up just enough, made it possible to see, but not too bright for people to squint when walking out into the night. A few empty pints and a smoky ash tray stood in the middle of the table, but Nathan put the glasses on the brick fence before everyone sat down.

“Alright, I’ll pay for your drink,” Nathan said, smiling at Y/N. “Anyone wanna come to the bar? Y/N’ll watch the table.”

“Ah, yes.” Chloe got up, the rest of the gang following along and walking towards one of the two entrances to the pub. Y/N got her phone out, looking to see if she had any notifications she had to check out, but there were none. She was about to resolve to scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, when she heard a slightly familiar voice.

“Hi there.” Mason sat down on the edge of the opposite bench, a cigarette in hand and a small smile on his lips. “Didn’t know you and Nath would come here tonight.”

“Oh, hiya,” Y/N smiled. “No, we didn’t know where we’d go after pre-drinks. He suggested this place, so we brought some of my course mates with us here.”

“You going out later?”

“No, think we’re just gonna stay here.”

“Yeah, this is a chill place,” Mason said, puffing out some smoke.

“This is my first time here.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Is it?”

Y/N smiled. “You think I should’ve come here earlier?”

“More to do with the fact that our flat just loves this place, thought Nathan would’ve at least taken you here already.”

“He did now.”

“It’s my favourite pub around here, and Harry-“

“-Mase!” Nathan exclaimed, grinning as he came over with two gin and tonics. “You’re here as well!”

“Yeah, it’s a Friday night, innit?”

“Hi,” Chloe said, sitting down beside Mason with a wide grin on her face. It seemed like she wanted to introduce herself or to be introduced, but before Y/N could say anything, the conversation resumed.

“Hey,” Mason answered, looking back to Nathan who seemed to be ecstatic to see one of his flatmates. “Hear you haven’t taken Y/N here till now.”

Nathan sighed. “Not like I didn’t want to, just haven’t gotten the opportunity.”

“What’s so good about this place?” Y/N asked, looking from Nathan to Mason.

“Just close, innit? Also, it’s crowded, but it’s not as crowded as most pubs down by Kingsland Road,” Nathan elaborated.

“You lot have a good night, yeah? Need to get back to my mates.” Mason leaned past Chloe, stumping the rest of his cigarette into the ashtray before he got up, walking over to a big group of lads. Chloe stared after him as the rest of the conversation around the table started back up again, Y/N pretended to not see how she was checking him out. It felt like she was intruding on a moment that was not meant for anyone but Mason to see.

“You’re living with him?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah.”

“He’s well fit.”

“Guess.”

Chloe giggled. “You’re taking the rule to not shag one of your flatmates seriously, then?”

“Shouldn’t everyone?” Thian asked, furrowing his brows. “It only complicates everything.”

“How? It’s only a shag. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with them,” Chloe said.

“Can’t really control your emotions, though.” Nathan shrugged. “Two of my flatmates last year shagged. He had feelings for her, she just wanted a one night stand. Didn’t end well.”

Y/N put her drink back down on the table after a long sip. “Well, if you’re clear beforehand and make it clear that it’s only for this night and there’s no emotions behind it other than temporary bliss, then that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” Hayden said, shaking their head. “It’s an unwritten rule. Don’t shag your flatmates.”

“Is it a serious rule?” Annelise asked, furrowing her brows.

“It’s got serious consequences,” Hayden answered.

“But if you’re both aware it’s only a one time thing, then is it serious?” Y/N asked.

“Babe, sex is complicated. You’re always just gonna be connected in a way, you know?” Nathan said.

“I can promise you I’m not connected to Ollie Lee in any way, shape, or form,” Y/N huffed, sipping her drink again as Nathan laughed, the other joining in because of Y/N’s obvious distaste in this Ollie Lee.

“Was he awful in bed?” Chloe asked, smiling as she looked between Nathan and Y/N.

“No, I was just desperate one night last year.” Y/N rolled her eyes at herself. “Let’s just say that mid-shag he asked me if I had to go to the toilet, and when I said no, he told me that whenever I felt like I had to, just pee on him instead.”

Gasps erupted around the table, and a second later, everyone started howling with laughter. Nathan kept on hitting his thigh, leaning into Y/N and laughing. Though it was a fairly embarrassing story on Y/N’s part, her definite lowest of low, she could not help feeling good about making everyone laugh like this. Looking around at everyone, she suddenly felt very good about herself, despite this being her worst sex story ever.

It was not like Y/N had fucked her way through Nottingham and had tons of stories to tell. In fact, she hadn’t shagged that many. She had had sex with eight people, three of them being women, one non-binary, and the other four men. She had been very vocal about the fact that the best sexual encounters she had had, were with women. They had all been so nice, and though it had never escalated to anything romantic beyond that one night together, they had made Y/N feel the best she’d ever felt. She suspected women just knew what to do, that they cared how she felt and did not solely care about their own release.

The group ended up just sitting around and talking for a while. It was nice to go somewhere outside of the uni setting and get to know some people, this was what uni was all about, or so Nathan had told her countless times. These people were as anxious about making friends and being liked as she was, but there they all were, making friends and going outside their own comfort zone.

At one point, Y/N had finished her drink and went to get another round for her and Nathan. The pub seemed to be even more packed now that it was closer to midnight. Everyone wanted to drink the week away, to forget about their lives for a little while and just spend time in good company. Y/N strolled over to the bar, looking up and down the counter to see if any of the bartenders were free to help her. The second her eyes landed on a familiar figure, she halted.

Harry’s eyes were already on hers as he stood almost right opposite her mixing a drink. He let go of a sigh, looking down at whatever he was mixing.

“You…” she started, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve got to be fucking everywhere.”

“Only ‘cause you’re every single place I usually am,” he said, continuing to make whatever drink he was making.

“Do you work here then?”

He looked over at her, raising one of his eyebrows. “I’m not a hallucination now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Can’t believe you thought I was a bloody hallucination.”

“Believe it. It’s all Nathan’s fault anyway. I’ll never forgive him for forcing me to live with you for a year.”

Harry let out a dry laugh. “To answer your question: no, thought I’d help out behind the bar to get me adrenaline going.”

“Well funny,” Y/N said. “You got me cracking up, can you tell?”

“Last time I checked, I got you laughing pretty hard, yeah.”

“That’s literally two years ago now.”

Harry finished the drink, putting it in a glass and placing it in front of the person standing just beside Y/N. Her eyes first landed on the watch on his wrist, the nice brown leather, and then her gaze travelled upward. She looked up at the man who was already staring at her, giving him a smile when she smiled at him. Their eye contact was put to an abrupt end when Harry poked the man’s hand holding the drink with the card machine. Y/N looked back at Harry, and then at another man with strong build and big, curly hair who stepped into view beside Harry.

“I’ll take care of her, Kai,” Harry said.

This Kai looked at Harry, blinking once before he met Y/N’s eyes again.

“She’s my flatmate,” Harry elaborated, making Kai study Y/N a bit more closely before he nodded once. He was very good looking, with a broad nose, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips, his brown skin glowed in the dim lights of the pub.

“That new one,” Kai said.

“Yeah.”

Kai smiled then, nodding in Y/N’s direction. “Nice of you to come check on Hazza. It’s always hectic on Fridays.”

“Oh, our other flatmate took me here, I didn’t come by choice.”

Kai’s eyebrows rose on his face and he looked at Harry who barked out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders at Kai as they exchanged a look. Harry walked over to stand right in front of her, signalling to Kai that he could take care of this one. Kai walked off, taking someone else’s order.

“Even feistier than I remember, you are,” Harry said.

She cocked her head to the side as Harry gathered a glass for her drink, already assuming that was what she was going to get. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”

It left her lips before she even registered she was thinking it. Harry only took a deep breath before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, clearly choosing to ignore her statement. “What can I get you, Y/N?”

“Sex on the Beach, please,” she said. “Two of them.”

“Alright.” Harry started making them right away, signalling to someone that he’d be right with them after this. Y/N looked around her, meeting the gaze of the man who had just stood by her at the bar. He raised his glass in her direction and she smiled back. She definitely had to go talk to him after this. He seemed to be a bit older, maybe five years older than her, but just for tonight, she did not care.

Y/N glanced back at Harry and watched him, fascinated by how fast he managed to make the drinks. “How long have you worked here, then?”

“A year abouts,” Harry said. “Worked in a hotel when we moved to Brum. Tended to work at the bar when the bartender was out.”

Y/N nodded, eyes on his hands as he poured ice, shots, and all types of alcohol and liquids into her drink. “You lived there till you moved to London?”

“Yeah.” They were quiet for a moment, both of them remembering all of the things that were left unsaid between them. All of those words, moments, and memories they had created during those months the two of them had crossed paths in Nottingham.

He cleared his throat as he put the drinks down in front of her. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t much like Brum.”

Y/N took a grip of the glasses. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno. Just didn’t find my footing proper.”

“In the two years you lived there?”

He shrugged. “Guess not.”

Y/N clicked her tongue. “Was it that bad?”

“Nah, I met tons of ace people and Birmingham’s a decent place, but…” He shrugged again. “Dunno.”

“Hmm,” she said, trying to decipher his words and if he was being truthful or not.

“Anyway,” Harry said, nodding to the drinks. “Take that other drink to Nathan – as I’m sure it’s for him – and when you bring that middle-aged man home later: please, be quiet. I have rugby at 11 tomorrow morning.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open. “How dare-“

“-Y/N, what’s taking so fucking long?” Nathan shouted as he came up next to her. His eyes fell on Harry behind the bar. “Oh… forgot to tell you Harry works here.”

“Nath, shut the fuck up,” Y/N said, looking from Nathan and back at Harry.

Harry nodded towards the door, silently telling them to fuck off, and they did. They walked back to the rest who were still sitting by the same table outside. Nathan took his drink from Y/N and sat down, but just as Y/N was about to sit down, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She looked over her shoulder rather fast, blinking a few too many times when she locked eyes with the same man who had been standing beside her by the bar.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a broad smile.

Y/N almost felt herself blush. “Hey.”

“I’m George.”

She smiled. “Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he said, he gestured at the bench where she had just been about to sit down. “Mind if I sit down with you?”

Her smile widened. “Not at all.”

Y/N felt fucking terrible. Her room was too hot, too humid. Body sticky with sweat, limbs aching, throat burning with yesterday’s alcohol, and head throbbing, she opened her eyes slowly before shutting them again, groaning into her pillow. She hated herself for not drinking as much water before bed as she usually did when coming home from a night out. Sitting up, she looked down at the man beside her, racking her brain to remember what his name was. She ran her hands over her face, reaching for her glasses so she could see something, but quickly realising she left her contact lenses in the night before. Her eyes were so dry it hurt to blink and she suddenly realised why her head was hurting more than normal. Cursing herself, Y/N got out of bed with her glasses perched at the top of her head, picking up a tee shirt and some tights, pulling on her fluffy dressing gown before she made her way out of her room as soundlessly as possible.

She stumbled her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. First thing she did was take her contacts out, struggling to do so as the contacts were so dry, her eyes having dried out with them. She splashed water in her face next, then drank the equivalent to the Atlantic Ocean before splashing even more water on her face. She then put her glasses on, realising that she had to let her eyes relax some after what she had just put them through. It took her awhile to gather up the courage to go to the toilet, where she made herself throw up the nausea she was feeling before having a very long peeing session.

Moments of the night before came rushing back to her, and as she sat there on the toilet, she remembered more and more. The name George came to her like out of a fog, and then the details started falling into place. She remembered how he’d bought her more drinks, how the two of them had sat talking all night about nothing in particular. She remembered his hand on her thigh and him leaning into her to whisper in her ear. Then they were in her room, her front against the mattress and his weight on her back. It was all hazy after that, most of it just a mess of limbs and chasing a release that she had never caught up with. Though Y/N usually made it clear that she hadn’t come, she was too worn out to tell George. She remembered falling asleep almost the second they were done. To say she had been underwhelmed was an understatement.

When she was done, she walked down the stairs for the kitchen. Once again, she was left stopping right in her tracks as she walked in. Harry stood by the stove, eyes on the pan in front of him where he was making eggs, a few asparagus and peppers cooking beside the two frying eggs. For a moment, she debated walking back upstairs and leaving Harry to it, but then he glanced over at the door to his right, meeting her eyes right away. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning back to his breakfast. God… Y/N wanted to set herself on fire. It’d be better than staying inside a room with Harry alone after years apart.

He wore rugby shorts that reached mid-thigh, a white tee shirt to go with it, and a hairband to keep his hair out of his face. Y/N realised just then that he was getting ready to leave for rugby as he had told her yesterday he would. She could remember him doing rugby when they knew each other three years ago as well, but she didn’t think he’d still be doing it.

The small conversation they had in The Stag’s Head the night before lingered in the air between and around them. That was reason enough to turn and walk upstairs again. But as Y/N remembered who was waiting for her in her room, she stepped into the kitchen. She got two slices of bread and put them in the toaster, getting some butter and milk out of the fridge as she waited. She watched Harry’s back as she filled the kettle with enough water, quickly looking away when he moved to put his eggs on the two slices of bread on his plate. Biting her lip, Y/N got a mug and a teabag, looking back over at Harry as he stood holding his breakfast plate. Y/N took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she had to do.

“Okay,” she said only a second before Harry turned around to face her, mouth open as if to say something. He must have noticed the tension as well. “We need to talk this through. We can’t live together for the next year if it’s gonna be like this. Just gonna put that out there right away.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Y/N leaned her hip against the counter, feeling relieved that she was not the only one out of the two that had thought about how incredibly awkward this was. “You’ve thought about it too?”

“Of course. I’ve been fuming ‘cause Nathan didn’t tell you sooner, and I’ve also found it annoying how I’m the bad guy in your eyes when this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Nate.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I haven’t thought of you as the bad guy-“

“-Y/N,” Harry said, putting his plate down on the counter again. “You’ve been angry at me this whole time. I can tell.”

“My frustration with you has got nothing to do with this situation, but all to do with how you just left without even saying goodbye before you moved away.” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m trying to not blame you for this as well, but you’re right, Nathan’s the one that made this happen, we should be angry with him.”

“So you have been mad at me.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t it just easier, no matter how stupid the reason, to just find more things to make you angry at a person? To make you hate them even more? Isn’t it just satisfying to find other ways to be frustrated with them?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am.”

“Anyway,” Y/N continued, getting her bread slices out of the toaster to put butter on them. “Why didn’t we say anything? If we’ve both thought it’s been awkward, I mean.”

“You’ve been busy shagging men 10 years older than you, I didn’t get the chance.”

“Look at you not being frustrated or annoyed with me.”

“I told you to be quiet last night,” Harry said, getting a fork and putting some asparagus and paprika in his mouth. “You weren’t.”

Y/N got the kettle as it finished, pouring some hot water into her mug. “So, what you’re saying is that you’ve been angry with me.”

“Not angry, just…” Harry sighed. “Fine. A little angry last night, yes.”

Y/N smiled. “And he wasn’t 10 years older than me, he’s five years older.” She paused. “I think.”

“Right,” Harry said, eating more of his breakfast. “Listen…” He swallowed. “I think we should just… We should just address it.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet, looking at the other and waiting for them to say what they were both thinking. Though it looked like he was about to reach for his bread to take a bite, Harry stopped himself. Instead, he took a deep breath, and said, “It was fucking terrible. That first time…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes before he ran a hand over his face, remembering it all over again. “I didn’t even last a minute. It was mortifying.”

“It wasn’t half as mortifying as you trying to go down on me afterwards.”

Harry let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that wasn’t really…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, we were both part of it. You don’t have to apologise for that.”

“You hear all these stories about how losing your virginity is supposed to be so beautiful, but it’s not. It’s really fucking not. Especially if you lose it to someone else who hasn’t had sex before, it just makes it double as awkward.”

Y/N nodded. “It was shit. Both of us were shit.”

“Exactly.”

“But I hope you know the reason I’m frustrated with you isn’t because of that.”

Harry looked away, biting at his bottom lip before he said, “Yeah, I know why.”

“Good, just wanted that to be clear.”

Harry nodded, taking his bread slice in his hand, making sure the egg wouldn’t fall off before he brought it to his mouth. “Well, now that we’ve addressed that, let’s just move on.”

“Let’s.”

She gave him a small smile before taking her teabag out of her mug and throwing it in the bin. There was still some tension in the room, but not enough for Y/N to want to set herself on fire like she had wanted to before. Just as she was about to take a grip of her plate and cuppa, the sounds of footsteps made her look up. George, who had been asleep last time Y/N checked, walked by the kitchen, halting as he saw Y/N and Harry standing there in the kitchen. He gave them both a smile Y/N could tell was forced, and then walked straight for the door without a single word or a second glance. Y/N and Harry looked at one another, sharing a look before they both chuckled ever so slightly.

“Cracking bloke,” Harry mumbled.

“Innit,” Y/N huffed, picking up her breakfast. “Have fun at rugby practice.”

“Cheers.”

She walked by him, hoping that her room did not smell of George or anything resembling alcohol or sweat. If it did, she would hit her head against the wall. But, lucky for her, George had left the door open, which had given the room a little bit of time to get the smell of last night out. After putting on her fluffy duvet cover, she opened the windows to let some fresh air in, and left her door open as she sat down in bed with her laptop, tea, and breakfast.

Just as she was about to put her plate down on the nightstand, she noticed something already laying there on top of her books. Adjusting her glasses, Y/N squinted at the object. She put her plate down on her duvet cover and reached for the wristwatch George had left. It was the nice leather one she had seen last night by the bar, the one that had caught her attention first. The digital clock seemed to have stopped working, displaying a random time that Y/N in her hangover state could not tell anyone what was. She was too fucked to even try and understand the numbers in front of her.

She put the clock back on her desk, hoping that she’d run into George soon so she could give it back to him. Or maybe Nathan could stalk Facebook and find him so she could message him there to tell him. She was glad she hadn’t exchanged phone numbers with George as she did not want to meet him again, but right now, she wanted to give him his watch back.

Y/N heard the front door open and then close, indicating that Harry had just left for rugby, and, as far as she could tell, she was the only one currently awake in her flat. The morning was quiet, she felt oddly at peace as she put on Fleabag and sipped her cuppa, and little did she know, this would be one of those rare moments over the last three years that this emotion inhabited her body.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 7th March, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta reader! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGIWGOJGI PLS COME TALK !!!!

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buckleysjareau · 3 years

Text

wish i could keep you in amber, safe from the outside

Neither of them say anything as Eddie takes shelter in Buck’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck, sheltered from all the bad that’s happened. A safe place.

He can only hope that he’s Buck’s safe place, too.

In which Eddie and Buck are struggling after the shooting and they finally have a much needed talk.

Content warning - very non descriptive depictions of war, mentions of blood, suicide statistics and past suicidal thoughts!

(Read on AO3)

Incoming!

Break, break, break! We’re pinned down and we’re taking fire, two clicks north of our last reported position.

Prepare for—

Boom!

Norwahl, stand down! You gotta get out! What the hell is wrong with you? Norwahl!

Pain.

Major 6-4, what’s your ETA?

Dust off, 47. ETA six minutes.

We don’t have six minutes.

Diaz, keep low. Don’t stop.

Wake up!

Diaz! I’m black on ammo!

Go! Go! Go!

Diaz, he’s dead!

Diaz, you okay?

He’s screaming.

He’s out of ammo— he’s got no other moves left in him. The pain is excruciating.

Shannon. Christopher.

I’m sorry…

He clutches his Saint Christopher medal and he can’t stop the tears.

Pain.

Shannon.

To protect you, to keep you safe.

–

Eddie shoots up, arms flailing and screaming out something he’s not even sure is comprehensible. His heart is beating out of his chest, won’t stop, and he can’t seem to catch his breath.

Then his surroundings start to filter in and his eyes land on his son—wait, Christopher?!

“Chris?” He chokes out, the all consuming fear he couldn’t shake from the nightmare making words hard to speak. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Christopher asks as he reaches forward to cup his face, wiping away a tear. Eddie almost breaks. He didn’t deserve this kid.

“Yeah, bud, I did.” He admits with a crack in his voice.

He’d had that nightmare almost nightly for three weeks after he’d woken up in a hospital bed, his shoulder hurting the way it had when he woke in Afghanistan—Buck by his side being the one thing that stopped him from thinking he was back there.

It’s been almost two months since that day, and Eddie kept telling himself—and everyone else— that he was fine. That he was talking about it, facing it so he could heal from it. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, he was talking about it with Frank. He just wasn’t exactly facing it as much as Frank is trying to get him to and—he wasn’t exactly fine.

His heart races whenever he’s outside, subconsciously scanning his surroundings for anything suspicious. He’s constantly alert to everything going on around him—sights, sounds, smells.

The nightmares started to happen less and less, though, and he could move his shoulder without wincing, the pain down to a dull ache. He was cleared to return to work by his doctors and by Frank. He was ready to go back.

Or so he thought, until their first call. They were called to a car wreck on Twelfth Street and he hadn’t realized just where that was until the truck pulled up. He’d felt Buck tense up next to him, Eddie’s own muscles tensing right after him.

Despite Bobby saying he could sit this call out, Eddie declined and pushed past the pounding in his heart, the tightness in his chest and the instinct to duck under the truck when a car backfired near them to do his job.

He managed to keep it together the rest of his shift. He kept it together on the car ride home, which he has Buck to thank for that. He kept it together through dinner with Carla, Christopher and Buck.

He kept it together until his head hit his pillow and he could finally break down a little. He’d perfected the silent tears a long time ago, when he was still under his parents’ roof and was taught that crying made him weak.

He cries until his heart is tired and his eyes flutter shut, no energy to fight the sleep that he knows won’t be peaceful.

That’s what leads to where he finds himself now, grasping to stay in touch with this reality as his son wipes away the tears in his eyes, soothing him.

“You’re going to be okay, dad.” He whispers and Eddie chokes out a laugh.

“When did you get so grown up?” He sniffles before opening his arms wide. “What do you say, you want to stay the night here with me? It’s been a while since you’ve slept in here.”

Which he’s grateful for because that means Christopher hasn’t been subjected to a nightmare in a long time. But the nights Christopher crawled into his bed after a nightmare didn’t just only help his kid.

Chris settles in next to him and rests his head on his shoulder, and for the first time in so long, Eddie feels calm. Peaceful.

He glances down at his son, who’s already asleep once again, and he can’t stop the tears that build in his eyes at the thought that he’d almost left him—again.

Diaz, you want to ride with the kid to the hospital?

Yeah, that’d be gr—

His son had already lost his mom, and because of someone with a stupid vengeance, a really close call almost took his father away from him too.

His emotions are strangling him not for the first time that night. He refuses to wake his son twice in one night, but he feels like he’ll suffocate from the lump in his throat if he doesn’t let it out, so he carefully stands up from the bed without moving his son too much.

He moves to the bathroom out in the hall, shutting the door behind him before he catches his reflection in the mirror. The bags and dark circles under his eyes make him look like a zombie, brown eyes tearful and dull. The look is familiar to the one he wore for months after he got home from Afghanistan.

Greggs is dead.

The others aren’t, thanks to you.

Greggs...died on impact.

And you pulled him out anyway. You got them all out, Staff Sergeant Diaz.

You did good, Diaz.

Doesn’t feel like enough.

Splashing his face with water does its job to bring him back to the present but does little to help the lifelessness behind his eyes.

“Eddie!”

At the frightened call of his name, Eddie is suddenly ready and alert for any incoming danger.

He stands with his hand on the handle to the bathroom door, standing still, listening out for the call again.

“Eddie! No!”

He’s off without a second thought, fast but quietly running towards the living room where he knows Buck is sleeping.

“Let me go! Eddie!”

Eddie’s heart is in his throat at the agony in his best friend’s cries and the sight of him thrashing so bad he’s started to move the couch.

A sob erupts from Buck’s lip and that’s what kicks Eddie into action. He’s in front of the couch on the coffee table, not too close to crowd him but close enough to reach out if needed.

“Buck, wake up, it’s okay. I’m okay, you just have to wake up. It’s just a dream.”

He tries to reach him with words but nothing seems to be getting through, so he reaches forward and shakes him, his name on his lips, and braces for the impact of flailing arms and kicking legs. Nothing comes.

Except the broken sob around Eddie’s name.

The tears well up behind his eyes once again but this time, he pushes them back. The first thing Buck sees when he’s shaken out of his nightmare should not be Eddie crying.

He squeezes down on his shoulder once more and that’s what seems to do the trick. Buck shoots up on the couch, Eddie’s name leaving his lips on a scream, hands clawing at the blankets in front of him—clawing at the blankets like he’d clawed to get away from Mehta to get to Eddie.

“Eddie!”

“Buck, Buck, it’s okay, I’m okay. I’m right here. It was just a dream. Buck, look at me!”

Eddie, look at me! Look at me, man, come on. Stay awake!

Buck freezes when his eyes finally land on him, but before Eddie can let out a sigh of relief that he’d gotten through to him, Buck is gripping his shirt just over where the bullet went through and the tremors going through Buck go straight through Eddie from the contact.

“We need to stop the bleeding!” He croaks out. “You’re losing so much blood. There’s so much blood.”

Shit. Buck might be awake, but his mind isn’t there with the rest of him yet.

“Hey, Buck, there’s no blood. Okay? There’s no blood. I’m fine, I’m all patched up—”

He pulls the bottom of his shirt up as much as he can and uses his other hand to move Buck’s hand from the grip on his shirt to the scar just under his shoulder.

“—see? You helped stop the bleeding. I’m okay, Buck, because you saved me. We’re not back there. You’re here with me in my living room and I’m with you.”

The fog is slowly starting to clear from his eyes as he traces the scar. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” He assures.

Eddie thinks they might be in the clear until Buck looks down at his trembling hands and his breathing picks up, more and more until he’s hyperventilating.

“Get it off—it needs to—make it go away. Get it off of me. It’s all over.” He sobs and Eddie has to clasp both of Buck’s hands in between his own when he starts to roughly rub at his face.

Eddie needed to calm himself down. He needs to stay grounded in this moment because Buck was in front of him, but so far away and needed Eddie to bring him back.

So he takes a deep breath and thinks about how Buck helped him through one of his flashbacks he’d experienced a couple of days after waking up in the hospital.

“Buck, I think you’re having a flashback right now. That’s okay though, because I’m gonna help get you through it, just like you did for me in the hospital.”

Buck whimpers. “The blood—get it off.”

“There is no blood, Buck. Do you hear me? Listen to my voice. It’s Eddie, we’re both safe and okay at my house right now, there’s no blood. If you can hear me, squeeze my hands.”

Eddie relaxes the slightest when there’s a light squeeze around his fingers.

“Good, that’s really good. Do you think you can lift your head for a second?” He smiles at him when he lifts his head and meets his eye. “Look around the room. Describe your surroundings.”

Buck’s grip on Eddie’s hand gets tighter.

“Okay, how about this—” Eddie pauses and looks around the room, finding the object thrown just a little bit across the room and leans forward to grab it. “Take this, Buck. Can you tell me about it? The details? The feeling? Describe it in great detail for me.”

Buck pulls his hands away from Eddie’s and grips the blanket in front of him.

It was a weighted blanket Adriana had given Eddie for his birthday one year, that was however taken by Buck whenever he’d stay over. That weighted blanket was used for comfort by Buck, no matter the mood he was in. It stays at Eddie’s house because Buck is there more often than not, but make no mistake, it was now Buck’s.

Hopefully this helps.

“It’s–It’s weighted.” Buck stutters out.

“Good, good. What else about it?”

“It’s gray…and plaid…”

–

“I’m sorry that I woke you up.” Buck whispers into the quiet kitchen.

Eddie sighs. “You didn’t wake me, I was already up.” He admits.

“Oh. Are you okay?”

He’s already tensing up, like Eddie’s been hiding that something’s been wrong the entire time, like Eddie wasn’t as okay as he was telling Buck he was.

Which, technically would have been a lie if he’d been talking about his mental health—but he was reassuring Buck that he was in good physical health, so, nothing to hide.

Eddie still hesitates. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He continues when Buck raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Physically, I’m okay, I promise. Just had a nightmare.”

It’s completely silent aside from a sharp intake of breath from Buck.

“You’re still having nightmares?” Is what Buck finally asks, voice wavering and quiet.

“You’re having nightmares?” Eddie asks, deflecting but also asking out of concern.

Silence follows after. Buck won’t look up from where his eyes are trained on the mug of tea Eddie had placed in front of him with a look that he’d hoped read I care about you. The heat of his stare could probably heat up the tea on its own, but the look doesn’t deter him, it only makes him more concerned.

Buck, for the most part, was open about how he was feeling. It’s a quality that Eddie adored and often envied. He liked to—had to—talk his feelings out until he could make sense of them. If he didn’t, it would build and fester and eat away at him until he snapped. The lawsuit was one example of what happens when Buck doesn’t talk out how he’s feeling.

He knows he has Doctor Copeland and maybe he’s been talking about it to her, but Eddie can’t get rid of the feeling that this is something that has festered over two months and if that’s the case—

Well, he’s terrified of what Buck will do when he finally snaps.

Up to fifty-four percent of suicides in people with PTSD are attributed to PTSD.

He swallows the lump in his throat as a statistic he’d read in the book Frank had given him about PTSD makes its way to the forefront of his mind. He has to stop himself from physically flinching away from the thought.

It was something he brought up with Frank after he’d read the book at his insistence. The statistic had struck something in him then and the question that followed from Frank had given him a lot to think about.

“Have you recently thought about ending your life?”

It wasn’t a recent thing but it had been an almost consistent thought after he’d gotten back from Afghanistan when his PTSD was at its worst and he hadn’t seen an end to his suffering in sight.

What if Buck has been feeling the same way?

What if one day his trauma gets too much and he— what if he—

No. That’s not going to happen, not if Eddie has anything to say about it.

He breaks the silence.

“Have you talked to Doctor Copeland about how much you’re struggling?”

Still refusing to look at him, Buck mumbles, “I’m not struggling.”

Eddie scoffs. “I believe that.”

“You should.” Buck huffs out.

“You’re allowed to struggle with this, Buck. What happened was—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He cuts Eddie off abruptly, his voice choked.

Eddie crosses the room, pulls out the chair next to Buck from under the table and turns to face it directly at him before sitting down.

“Well, I’m sorry, but we’re going to talk about it.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Eddie,” Buck starts, his tone a warning.

“Buck.” He counters in the same tone.

Buck looks like he’s about to bolt— he knows him well enough to know he won’t, but he still reaches out and gently squeezes Buck’s forearm, not letting go. He can feel how much he’s still shaking and squeezes again in an effort to comfort him—and comfort himself, keep himself and Buck grounded in the present. He’s feeling so on edge himself, so he can’t imagine how Buck must feel after that flashback.

“We haven’t talked about that day. It’s been almost two months and we haven’t talked about what happened.” He swallows. “Have you talked about it to anyone?”

The breath Buck takes in is shaky.

“Why are you so insistent about my struggles when you’re struggling yourself?” His tone is defensive but it has Eddie nodding.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then meets Buck’s eyes. “I am. Struggling.”

It’s the first time Eddie has admitted to anyone outright that he was struggling. He’d talked to Frank, but he only ever said the bare minimum of what he was feeling and he admits he had no plans to continue his sessions with Frank now that it’s not mandatory.

The uncomfortable feeling that always comes with being this vulnerable, even with Buck, starts to buzz under his skin but he continues.

“It’s not something I ever like to admit, you know this...but yeah, Buck, I’m really struggling.”

At the break in his voice, Buck’s hand is suddenly resting on top of the hand that’s holding onto Buck’s forearm. He remains quiet but he gives Eddie a look that said he was listening if he wanted to talk more.

He’s not surprised to find that he does want to talk about it more because talking to Buck has always been easy, no matter how hard the topic was to talk about.

“I was really bad when I came home from Afghanistan after I was given a Silver Star. I was being called a hero by everyone when all I could think was that I didn’t do good enough because Greggs still died, still left three daughters behind.”

Eddie pauses to take a much needed deep breath and turns his hand that’s under Buck’s palm up and grasps onto Buck’s the second their hands connect. Buck squeezing back is enough to get the next words out of his mouth.

“I’m really scared that I’m gonna get that bad again, man.” Eddie whispers his greatest fear. “There have been days where I’ve been terrified to leave the house, thinking that they didn’t actually catch the sniper and I’ll be back there again. I can’t go back there again.”

Buck squeezed his hand again in comfort.

“I’m always going to be here for you, Eds. I won’t let you go back there.” Buck’s voice is no more than a whisper but the sentiment is so loud.

He knows Buck will always be there for him, it’s not a surprise, but the simple promise from his best friend was exactly what he needed to loosen the tightness in his chest for the time being. A sob bubbles past his throat and that’s all it takes for Buck to pull him into his arms and give Eddie the tightest hug he thinks he’s ever received.

Neither of them say anything as Eddie takes shelter in Buck’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck, sheltered from all the bad that’s happened. A safe place.

He can only hope that he’s Buck’s safe place, too.

“And I’m always going to be here for you,” Eddie whispers against Buck’s neck after a while.

He feels the moment Buck tenses. He expects him to pull away, to try to convince Eddie he’s not struggling, but instead, Buck sucks in a breath and grips the back of Eddie’s shirt.

“You almost weren’t.”

The choked whisper has Eddie tightening his arms around Buck. “But I’m here now and that’s because of you, okay? You kept me alive.”

He doesn’t just mean the way Buck had gotten him into the safety of the 133’s truck, or the way he did all he could to make sure he hadn’t lost any more blood.

He fought to come home to Christopher, and he fought to come home to Buck. He held on for those two and those two only.

Not Ana, who he should have thought of but she wasn’t who he loved.

It’s a good thing that he hadn’t fought to come back to her, too, because the moment Eddie shut down… she left. He couldn’t blame her, he’d been a wreck when he first came home and his mental health was not on her.

But Buck was there. Buck never left, has never left, will never leave. If Eddie is sure of anything, it’s Buck’s permanency in his life.

He’s going to make damn sure he’s a permanent in Buck’s by fighting to come home to him, too.

“I froze, Eddie. I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything you could do in the situation and you saved me, Buck. Don’t you get that? You kept me hanging on, you got me back to my son.”

He feels Buck shake his head as he starts to burrow his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He doesn’t respond, just shakes in his arms. A sob escapes Buck’s lips.

Eddie holds him tighter, using his good arm to rub his hand up and down Buck’s back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Talk to me, Buck.” He pleads. Eddie is still crying himself—hasn't been able to get himself to stop.

“There was so much—” He starts off before pushing away from Eddie’s embrace and puts a hand near his throat, rubbing at his skin as if he was scrubbing something off. “So much blood.”

Yeah, that’d be gr—

—gunfire.

Eddie shakes his head, trying to dispel the memory from the forefront of his mind.

“Yo–you–you reached for me, and I cou–couldn’t get to you. Then your eyes closed and oh my God, Eddie, there was so much blood.”

Buck is pretty much wailing at this point and he can’t help but wonder how Christopher hasn’t been woken up yet from the noise they’ve both made. He doesn’t think he can take the pain in his heart at the anguish in his best friend’s cries and he vows to himself to never cause this pain again.

He’s still rubbing at his neck, staring directly at Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie doesn’t like the way his stare starts to become distant. He reaches for Buck’s hand and lets out a sigh of relief when he lets him pull it away from his throat.

“Stay with me, Buck.”

Stay with me, Eddie!

Breathe.

“Shit—fuck—shit, I’m so sorry.” Buck chokes out and Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise—confusion, disbelief…

“You have nothing to be sorry for, man.”

“No, no, I do. I’m not the one who got shot, I shouldn’t be—I shouldn’t be struggling like this… and you got shot, you’re dealing with your own feelings about that, you shouldn’t have to listen to me.”

Eddie ducks down to try to meet Buck’s eye. “Hey, no, it’s not a competition here—who had it more traumatic—no. You were covered in my blood, you were being targeted in active shooter situation—”

“Actually, I wasn’t.” He cuts him off sharply.

“He was targeting firefighters.”

“I was in my civies. He wasn’t after me, he was targeting the 133 and you.” The guilt in his statement cuts right through Eddie’s heart.

“You’re allowed to be struggling, Buck. You’ve got every right to be and I hate that you haven’t talked to anyone about this— it’s been two months. Why?”

“Because I’m not the one who got shot and because I just freeze like I did then when it’s brought up. I couldn’t get myself to talk about it but now that I have it’s all coming out and fuck, Eds, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You were still involved in a completely fucked up situation and anyone who has would struggle. I get it, though. You’re the first person outside of Frank that I’ve talked to about how it’s messed me up. But shit, Buck, I know from experience how much worse I’d be if I didn’t talk about it.” He takes in a deep breath and lets out a humorless laugh. “When did we switch places here?”

He continues when Buck gives him a bewildered look.

“You have to talk your problems out to process them and I have never liked talking about my problems. When did you become the one in this relationship to hold it all in and when did I become the one that actually talked about it so I could heal from it?”

“When I almost lost you.” Buck whispers, his voice wet. “I’m proud of you, though. I’m glad you’re talking to Frank. I hope he’s helped.”

“Well you didn’t lose me. I’m right here, so talk to me. Come to me when you get like this. We went through the same hellish trauma together so I promise you I won’t get tired of you talking about your feelings from it—about anything.”

He knows that Buck feeling like a burden is part of his reluctance to talk, it always was whenever Buck came to him to talk about his struggles.

Buck sighs, tension deflating from his body little by little before he folds over and rests his forehead on Eddie’s chest. Eddie takes his hand that’s not holding Buck’s and cards it through his hair.

“Okay, fine. I’ll try, on one condition.”

“Anything.” Eddie means it.

“You come to me, too.”

“Deal.” Eddie smiles. “Maybe you can do something for me though?”

“Anything.” Buck whispers.

“The second her office opens, set up an appointment with Doctor Copeland.” Eddie almost pleads. “I’m going to book one with Frank.”

He hadn’t planned on going back to him after the sessions stopped being mandatory but this talk has made him realize a few things, and one of them was that therapy had helped. The difference between Eddie’s return from Afghanistan and the aftermath of being shot was just that—therapy.

And if it got his best friend to actually talk about it and start healing, too, that’s a positive bonus.

“Yeah, o—” A loud yawn escapes Buck that cuts him off.

Eddie yawns right after him, followed by a snort. “We should probably get some sleep.”

“I can’t—I don’t want to have another nightmare.”

Eddie moves the hand in Buck’s hair to his cheek and lightly taps him. He smiles at Buck as their eyes meet. “I’ve got an idea. C’mon, get up, follow me.”

Buck never makes a move to let go of Eddie’s hand as they walk and neither does he. He goes over to the couch and grabs Buck’s weighted blanket with his free hand and leads him to his room.

“Eddie?” Buck stops him before he can open the door.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“It would be for me, too.” Eddie squeezes his hand. “Though I should warn you—” He opens his door to reveal Christopher sound asleep in his bed. “I should have said stay with us tonight.”

“Eddie.”

“I’m absolutely positive I want you with us tonight.” He answers the unasked question on Buck’s tongue.

He lifts the blanket and gestures for Buck to get in first but Buck shakes his head. “You can go there.”

The bed stirs as he gets in.

“Dad?” Christopher mumbles sleepily. “Buck?”

“Yeah, bud, Buck’s here. He also had a bad dream, do you mind if he sleeps with us?” Eddie asks, already knowing his son’s answer would be yes.

Christopher nods with a sleepy smile.

When Buck slides in next to him, Christopher leans over and cups Buck’s face the way he had cupped his not two hours ago. “You��re gonna be okay, kid.”

Tears appear in Buck’s eyes but he gives Christopher a wet smile and nods. “Yeah. I think I will be.”

His son really was the greatest.

Buck’s insistence that Eddie got into bed before him starts to make sense after Buck starts to fall asleep. He subconsciously slots himself against Eddie’s back and pulls him closer, leaving his arm around him, resting over his heart.

He wanted to protect him. He’d wanted to protect Eddie from all of the dangers that could come through that door.

In that moment, Eddie has never felt safer.

His safe place.

#my writing #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #tw suicidal thoughts #tw mention of blood #tw blood #911 on fox #911 fox

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blizabrth · 3 years

Note

top 5 annie scenes!

I haven't attempted to make lists like this for GG because I know I will forget scenes that I love and then it feels like I got an F in making a top 5 list which is a totally normal feeling to have. But I should just cool out and let myself have fun with it hahaha.

And for Annie? I'd do anything. So, in no particular order and probably forgetting some scenes, here are my favs that come to mind immediately:

Annie supporting Nancy giving birth -> "I always wanted a boy." I've watched these scenes so many times and I still have physical reactions to them. The feral, angry energy of Nancy mid-labor and Annie sticking around despite of (and maybe in some ways because of) everything terrible and shared between them? Women being fiercely emotional and supporting each other through it? Takes me tf out. And I still watch Ben's disclosure through watery eyes every. single. time.

Breaking up with Gregg in 2x04 —We've been here before. You know, we know how this ends. —How does it end? —Total carnage. I loved how heavy the history between Annie and Gregg felt in this scene. I loved how they were still in some ways playful (the eyebrow jokes) but you could really feel that distance between who they once were and who they had grown into over the years. It's painful and you can see them recognizing and knowing that, maybe in another life or another universe, things could've worked out differently between them. I love her choosing to leave here. I love her setting boundaries. And I've always loved the visual of that bright red neon CLOSED sign behind Gregg's head as he watches her walk back into her apartment building.

"Do you really want to be with me, or do you just not want to be with her?" post-Stag Night conversation with Cohen Another boundary-setting breakup scene! Guess I have a type. Also, I know it might be controversial (???) to say, but I really love the moment the next morning when Cohen says to her "You never needed me." I sort of got the sense that that was the first time anyone had said that to her (instead of its opposite, that she always needs someone to clean up her messes), or expressed to her directly that she's capable of taking care of herself and overcoming her problems independently. And hearing it from a person who did help her grow felt particularly empowering in my opinion—he knew how much she had grown, and he took no credit for it in the end.

Annie & Ruby's fight in the bus in 2x10 I love thinking about Annie and Ruby's friendship and so I enjoyed all the scenes we got with them in this ep. Is this moment particularly painful? Absolutely. I love conflict! And this fight ties in directly to why I like the Cohen scene I listed above—they fight about no one ever taking Annie seriously, Annie accusing Ruby of being Beth's yes-man, Ruby saying Beth is always there to pick up after Annie (and how obviously all of this hurts Annie clear as day on her face). Ugh! Such a good friend-fight!

Lock picking parallels from s1 -> s4 I just think this is really cute/clever character continuity, and it made me happy when I saw it come back in season 4. A great "look how far they've come!" moment. Plus I love that girls' night now consists of the casual practicing of crime over wine and popcorn.

Honorable mention: Hostage peen Blackmailing that rapist was such a power move and I'll never get over it.

ask me my top 5 anything and i will make a list

#gregg with two gs is the only way i will spell his name idec #thanks for the ask!!!#i over-thought it and got wordy as usual <3 #and yeah i know for a fact i'm blanking on other incredible scenes #but to be fair i can probably talk about any scene and why i love it so #top 5 anything #ask games #asks #foxmagpie

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captainsourwolf · 4 years

Text

postcard friend

link’s only friend as a kid ends up moving to georgia. they’re young, not even in kindergarten yet, and gregg just up and moves, leaves him alone with all the kids at daycare that pick on him. of course he cries about it and goes to his mama and she helps him figure something out: postcards! they’ll send a postcard to gregg’s new georgia address and it’ll be like he never left.

little link of course is ecstatic to know he can still keep in touch with his friend. he’s up bright and early the first sunday after gregg leaves because his mama promised they’d go to the dollar store and find his first postcard before church. in the store, he makes a beeline for the postcards sitting on a spinny rack by the birthday cards. it only takes him a few minutes to pick one out that he knows gregg will like--a hunting dog just like the one his parents had--and drag his mama to the checkout. he’s determined he’s the one that’s going to pay for it so he slaps his quarters down as far as he can reach and happily leaves with his postcard clutched in his hands.

instead of paying attention in church, link uses the hymnal as a solid surface to write on his card with the blue pen his mama keeps in her purse in case the one in her bible case runs out. of course at four years old it’s mostly scribble, but he at least knows how to write his own name and gregg’s name, minus one g because he always forgets the extra g. mama usually scolds him for not paying attention but she knows how excited he is about his postcard so she leaves him be, only tweaking his ear once when he doesn’t bow his head to pray at the end. he sends up a silent, tiny prayer that his postcard makes it to georgia.

after church he gets behind his mama and pushes her to the car, desperate to get that card in the mail. she’s explained to link many times that the mail doesn’t run on sunday’s so it doesn’t matter how much urging he does, it won’t be picked up till monday morning. but still he pushes because he wants to make sure he doesn’t forget. they go home and he hopes out of the backseat, shoves the card into the mailbox, lifts the flag, then runs back inside to help with lunch.

link is so excited about the mail monday morning that he asks his mama if he can sit outside to wait, just to make sure the mailman gets his postcard out. she says yes, “just make sure to put your coat on, it’s windy out there.” so link yanks on his coat around the time the mailman comes and goes outside to wait. and when he does, link jumps off the top step, only scrapes his knee a little bit, and goes to greet the mailman.

“did you see the postcard?” he tugs on the mailman’s sleeve and waits.

“sure did. to georgia, huh?” link grins and nods and watches as his postcard disappears into the bag with their neighbor’s mail.

“how long will it take?”

“should be there by wednesday. that’s two days away.” the mailman tips his hat at link, pats his bag, and heads off to the next house.

link yells his thanks then runs off inside to tell his mama gregg will be getting his first postcard by wednesday.

gregg gets that first postcard. and his mama calls link’s mama and tells her all about it. link listens in and gets to talk to gregg for a few minutes before they have to go. links says his goodbye and gregg says his thanks for the postcard and it’s set, link is gonna send him another one.

for a few months link sends gregg one postcard a week. he saves up every coin he can find--couch cushions, out on the sidewalk, around the park, anywhere he sees a coin just laying around he picks it up and puts it in his “postcard money” jar. his mama gives him a quarter every time he helps her with the chores and she gives him whatever spare change she had leftover from grocery shopping. he uses it every week to buy a new postcard. every sunday he scribbles his note out to gregg, with gregg’s name minus one g because he still forgets, and signs his name. and every sunday he puts it in the mailbox with the flag up. every monday he sits and waits for the mailman to come get it. and every wednesday he awaits gregg’s call to confirm he received it.

occasionally link will get a postcard in return. it’s always something silly and signed with gregg’s name. but after those first few months he stops getting them. he stops getting the phone call, too. it stings but he’s little, he’ll bounce back. he knows gregg has never been the most affectionate child. but he’ll keep sending them because it’s his friend and he just wants to keep in touch with his friend. so he keeps sending them.

but unbeknownst to little link neal, gregg and his family moved again a couple of weeks back. into his house moved the mclaughlins. two boys and two parents and a dog. five year old rhett isn’t so sure about moving to the this part of georgia. he liked their old house; it had a big back yard and they were planning on getting a pool and all his friends are there. but after a few days of living there he figures it isn’t so bad because he found a postcard in the pile of mail that was left behind. addressed to someone named gregg with two g’s and signed by someone with some weird name, link, and a bunch of kid scribble. but it made him smile seeing the postcard and the picture on the back. this one has a dog wearing sunglasses and, hey, it kinda looks like his dog.

over the first month of living there the mailbox has three more postcards slipped into it. still to gregg with two g’s and signed by weird name link. each one is a different dog. it’s almost christmas time so the third one has a dog wearing a santa hat. he likes this one the most so he hangs it up on the cork board above his desk in his bedroom. the others he rubber bands together and stores them in a box. maybe one day he’ll send one back, ask who this gregg dude is, find out who link is.

one day.

so it continues this way for a few more months. link doesn’t get discouraged about gregg never sending a postcard or calling every wednesday. instead he keeps sending them. he’s sure that one day gregg will send one back or call. his mama tries to discourage him from sending them so often but he won’t listen. he likes picking them out, he likes writing on them and signing his name, he likes putting them in the mailbox and watching them get picked up the next day. he just knows they’re arriving on time every wednesday.

as time goes on link goes from one postcard a week to one every two weeks. he’s in school now and has other things to do, but he still enjoys the postcards. he never gets a reply or a phone call, but that’s okay. someone must be getting them and reading them and he hopes whoever it is enjoys them as much as he does.

and in georgia, as time goes on, rhett’s cork board fills up to the point he has to change it out every few months. but he doesn’t throw the postcards away. instead he adds them to the rubber banded ones and keep them in his box under his bed. his mama didn’t understand why in the world he kept getting postcards for someone named gregg but she saw how much rhett enjoyed it and let it continue. the box gets full fast over a couple of years and he has to get a new one. he labels the boxes “link’s postcards” and decides that one day he’s gonna go to this buies creek place and find this link kid.

in third grade, john carson knocks link to the ground after school and calls him names--girly, gay, a sissy. he has no one to stick up for him so he tells no one about what happened. until he gets home. he’s had a new postcard sitting on his desk for a week now. he forgot to send it because, well, he’s been a little down about never getting one in return or even a phone call. but this time he sits down and he starts writing. as the years have gone by he’s started writing actual notes to gregg (he remembers the extra g now) and every time he feels a little silly. but it makes him feel better knowing someone might be reading them and listening to him, whether it’s really gregg or not.

“gregg, wish you were here. today was a bad day. a really bad day. mama doesn’t understand, but you would. i don’t have any friends, not really. i’m all alone. please come back.--link”

he doesn’t cry when he puts it in the mailbox, he doesn’t. but he does sniffle and wipe his nose on his shirt sleeve where there’s still some dirt and blood where he scraped his palm. with a little sigh he flips up the flag and goes back inside. mama hugs him and lets him pick out the pizza they’re gonna order for supper and for a little while all is right with the world.

and when rhett gets that postcard his little third grade heart breaks for this kind he doesn’t even know. but, well, he feels like he knows link. he’s been on the receiving end of his postcards for a few years now and even though they’re always for someone named gregg, rhett likes it all the same. he has a postcard friend that he’s never met. so when he sees this one, with its words of hurt and loneliness, he decides it’s time to reply. he begs his mama to take him to the store, “right now mama it’s important!” she sighs and takes him and he picks out the prettiest postcard he can find. it’s got a sunset on it, oranges and pinks and purples and navy peeking over the horizon and a field of tulips. he pays for it with his allowance and clutches it in his fists all the way home.

immediately upon returning, rhett rushes to his room and starts writing. he addresses it dear link and spends an hour penning the perfect postcard note. his handwriting is sloppy and slanted but he thinks he did a good job. he doesn’t sign it, just leaves it be, and runs downstairs to put it in the mailbox.

two days later link comes running inside after checking the mail and screams at his mama that he got a postcard from gregg’s address. but he frowns seeing that gregg didn’t sign it. shrugging, he takes it upstairs and reads it and when he’s finished he feels like maybe this isn’t his friend after all. but who could it be/

“dear link, i’m sorry that you’re alone and having a bad day. but you’re not alone. you’ve got me! your postcard friend. i’ve kept every one that you’ve sent the last few years. you should see the boxes! they’re HUGE! i’ll have to get a new box soon. anyway, can’t wait for your next postcard. i’ll be here.”

when he gets another postcard a couple of weeks later, link is convinced now it isn’t gregg but instead another person. for a moment he’s concerned it could be some creep. his mama has warned him about those people and shown him pamphlets, but it can’t be a creep. this person is too nice. so he starts wondering. is it a kid his age? younger? a little older? is it a boy or a girl? do they have siblings or pets? all kindsa thoughts run through his head that night. one thing’s for sure though, he isn’t letting this postcard friend go.

so time keeps moving forward. link keeps buying and sending postcards to his new friend. he confides in them in everything and they always send something back. sometimes it’s a silly joke to cheer him up, or a cartoon of the two of them meeting, or confiding in link as well. from the numerous postcard conversations they’ve had since third grade, when he got his first response from this new friends, he’s learned a few things.

one: it’s a boy his age but no name yet, and he has a brother

two: he can draw pretty good

three: he likes dogs, video games, and girls

four: he likes to eat

and five: he’s just as lonely as link sometimes

the last one--learned from many postcards about parental problems, pets dying, people picking on him at school for his height--always makes link sad. and yet he’s glad to know he’s not alone in his loneliness. in a way, this postcard friend has made him less lonely. he has someone he can talk to, even though he only knows them as “postcard friend” and have never seen his face. his mama likes that he has a friend but is concerned it could end badly if things keep going this way.

in high school, when link is a freshman, he gets picked on a lot. he’s shy and he’s quiet, sits in the back of each lass and pens his newest postcard during study hall. he doesn’t do any extracurriculars except soccer and sometimes he’ll keep score for the swim team. and he always keeps in touch with his friend. but he’s getting anxious to know this boy’s name and what he looks like. so one day he decides he’ll send a school picture with his next card. it’s a dumb looking one with a bowl cut and weird eyebrows but it will do.

when rhett sees the picture attached to the postcard he’s taken aback. he wasn't expecting a picture, almost thought he would go the rest of his life never knowing what link looks like, and yet here he is, brown hair and blue eyes and the brightest smile rhett’s ever seen on a boy. he rubs his thumb across the picture, the name link and the boy before him becoming one, and immediately tucks the picture into the corner of his cork board next to the card. then he sets about doing the same thing. he’s had a new postcard waiting to send for a few days and now he grabs it and attaches his school picture, signs the card rhett for the first time in years. he grins the whole way back to the mailbox.

link isn’t expecting a picture, much less a name. he sees a boy with blonde hair and green-grey eyes and a half-smile and the name rhett, and something squeezes in his chest. much like rhett hundreds of miles away he rubs his thumb over the picture, over the name, and finds a special place to put them both. all his postcards aren’t on display, instead they’re tucked away in a photo album and neatly placed on his bookshelf. but this one gets taped to his wall, over his desk, so he can see it every time he writes a new letter to his postcard friend--no, rhett, his friend rhett.

high school comes and goes along with numerous postcards and pictures. link writes short notes, long notes, sometimes just a few simple words that he knows will make rhett happy. he tells rhett about the girl he likes, and this boy he’s friends with and waits patiently for a rejection that never comes. he tells him about his mom’s new boyfriend and the kids he has and in reply he gets a story about rhett’s brother that makes him laugh so hard he forgets about the older half-sister that doesn’t want him around. and he tells rhett about his college fears, where he wants to go, what he wants to major in (“nc state, film, and a dorm by myself because what if someone doesn’t wanna live with a weirdo like me?”). he has a cork board now that he pins all the pictures sent to him. pictures of rhett playing basketball, at prom, with his brother, with his parents, with his dog, standing in front of the collegehe wants to go to.

in georgia, high school comes and goes and so many postcards and pictures. rhett tells link everything. for someone that’s only seen him through pictures, never heard his voice, and vice versa, he sure feels like link is his best friend in the whole world. he tells link about the fight he had with his dad about playing basketball in college. he tells him about the girl he might have a crush on and leaves out the part about the blue-eyed, dark-haired, bright smiley boy he knows he has a crush on. he talks about college and where he wants to go and what he wants to do but is being forced to do as a compromise for quitting basketball (“UGA, film school engineering, an apartment off campus with my friends tim and ben, you’d love them if you met them.”). his cork board is full of pictures of link. link with his dog tucker that passed away, he and his mama, playing in the mud in his backyard after a heavy rain, he and his grandparents at nc state, just him smiling at the camera and the sun’s hitting his eyes just right so they’re a brilliant crystalline blue.

the first couple years of college, link loses touch with rhett a tiny bit. the number of postcards he sends has decreased to one a month because he’s so busy with classes, but it’s okay because he knows rhett is busy too. the ones they do send to each other are filled with silly college stories, dorm and apartment complaints, new friends, which professors are their favorites, which classes are their favorites and least favorites, so much sometimes that it takes an extra piece of paper taped to the postcards to finish writing their letters next to each other. link keeps the notes attached and slips them in their designated slot in the his photo albums that he brought with hims to college. and the pictures he keeps taped to his wall, right next to his bed so he can see rhett’s face every morning and every night. he feels a little guilty he’s been slacking with the postcards but plans to pick it back up during summer break.

it’s been too long between cards that last two years. he needs to remedy that.

at uga rhett has his boxes of postcards in the top of his small closet. tim and ben tease him about his collection of cards and pictures, but he doesn’t care, he loves every single world and photo. he doesn’t like that these couple of years have seen a greater amount of time between cards, but they’re both busy with classes, he knows this. but still, he feels like he could be losing his grip on the best friend he’s never met.

come summer link’s plans to send a postcard every week start out fine. but then he meets someone. she’s blonde and pretty, a smile like sunshine and a personality that reminds him of someone he’s never met hundreds of miles away. it’s a summer romance and when he finally remembers, he sits down and tells rhett all about it and her. (“she’s beautiful and smart and even though i’ve only had one person to compare it to, i think i love her. rhett, she’s perfect!”)

in georgia, rhett crumples the postcard and its attached letter in his hands after he reads it. the picture inside shows link, his brightest smile, and his arm around the pretty blonde with a smile like sunshine. they’re so perfect together it hurts and he ignores the looks he gets when he tosses all of it in the trash. and an hour later he’s digging them out because it’s link, and now it’s link and her and he can’t lost the one connection he has to the best friend he’s ever had.

except he does. over time, the postcards are few and far between. when they do come it’s all about her, or it’s all about film classes, or it’s all about the life that he’s creating for himself finally. link is happy and rhett isn’t a part of that. has he ever been? so he packs up the postcards and the pictures, except for the one of link smiling into the camera. it’s his favorite. and then he pulls out the last postcard he bought--a sunset over uga that says “wish you were here.” he sits and he tells link goodbye and that he’s the only best friend he’s ever had and will ever have. he mails it and shoves the boxes to the back of the closet where they’ll stay.

and link--

link gets that postcard and it crushes him. goodbye? rhett can’t say goodbye! he’s the only real friend link has, except...except they’ve never truly met. maybe this was meant to happen one day. so he puts it in a slot in the photo album and he packs all of them u and he says a silent goodbye to his postcard friend.

years go by. link graduates and he proposes and they move to la. the tiny house they get together is cute and the perfect reflection of their life together. when they move link almost doesn’t take the packed up postcards with him. but she gently nudges him and softly tells him to take them, he’ll regret it otherwise. she’s always right so he takes them and in their new house the boxes sit in the back of their closet. and with those? he puts all of the one’s he’s written since the last one, almost five years ago now. rhett might’ve said goodbye but link has still kept in touch, even if he never sent them.

once they’re settled and he has his new job set up, he its down and he writes a letter. he attaches it to a postcard with a picturesque view of la, a picture of himself she took, sends it off to rhett’s old georgia address that used to be gregg’s, and hopes it’ll reach him through his parents. he has no way of knowing so he forgets about it when he never receives a reply. and so he moves on.

years go by for rhett, too. he graduates and he meets a girl that’s fiery and passionate and the perfect compliment to his calm demeanor. she’s brunette and short and has a personality that reminds him of someone he used to know and love. he gets a job with a top notch engineering firm, he moves in with his girl not far from his parents. and his boxes of postcards? he leaves them in the garage underneath a few boxes of knick knacks from his childhood. and with them he packs up a bundle of postcards he’s written but never sent. he doesn’t know where link is anyway, it’s no use, so he puts them away. but she notices his discontent sometimes and she knows all about link, how he could not tell her? he leaves out the part where he thinks maybe at some point he loved the boy he never met, his long lost postcard friend, and instead tells her about everything else. and one day she surprises him with a postcard that’s plain and simple with a yellow house and a white picket fence and a dog.

rhett writes to link and attaches it to the postcard with a picture of himself sitting in his new cubicle and sends it off to link’s old buies creek address he’s never forgotten. and how could he? he has years worth of cards with that very address on it, he couldn’t forget it if he tried. but he never receives a reply and so he moves on.

link loves his job. he loves it so much. and he loves her, his life, but he has the nagging feeling something is missing. it’s been about three more years and he’s still engaged, not married, not yet, because something doesn’t feel right. but it’s okay. he’s pretty happy. until one day he’s checking the mail after work. she’s not home yet so she doesn’t see the shock on his face when he sees the postcard with the yellow house and the white picket fence and the dog.

there’s a note attached and a picture. it’s rhett and he’s everything link thought he would be. his breath catches and he stands outside, at the mailbox, reading until he goes cross eyed from reading it so many times. rhett writes to him from georgia still, dated three years back; it must’ve gotten lost in the mail between buies creek and la. he’s got a girl and a home a great job. (“wish you were here, link. i miss you and i miss these postcards. hope you’re well. maybe one day…”)

it’s been long enough so he wonders if this rhett still exists. without thinking he packs an overnight bag and gets a cab to the airport and leaves. he flies to georgia, to his postcard friend, to the one person in his life he’s ever loved without knowing just how fiercely until now.

and rhett? he doesn’t receive a long lost postcard, but he does get sentimental one day. he open the boxes and he starts going through the memories. the words of loneliness, the funny stories, the woes of school and girls and maybe boys, everything. and he comes across one, the first one he got about link’s new girl, and he’s reading it, thinking about how he felt in that moment. he stops on one phrase (“i’ve only had one person to compare it to”) and he stares and stares. then something clicks. link only ever had him. him!

he’s about to leave, postcard in hand, when there’s a knock on the door. quickly he rushes out of the garage, not really caring who’s at the door. he needs to pack a bag, get to the airport, hunt down link and only link. but the knocking is insistent. with a frustrated groan he hurries to the front door and flings it open, ready to tell whoever it is to leave, he has more important things to do right now.

on the other side is a man. dark hair, glasses, a graphic tee under a plaid shirt, blue eyes, and the brightest smile rhett has only ever seen on one person. clutched in his hand is a postcard with a yellow house and a white picket fence and a dog, and in the other hand is a picture. he holds it out in a shaky hand and looks up at rhett, smile growing.

“rhett?”

rhett nods and knows, without a doubt, this is his postcard friend, his long lost boy, his link.

“link?”

(”wish you were here you’re here”)

#postcard rhink #rhink #rhink ficlet #let's try this again shall well #call hallmark cuz it's cheesy up in here #but i love it #im thinking of turning it into an actual fic #if only i could put this much time and energy into finishing tb and my current wip's #hope y'all like it #IM NOT TOUCHING IT ONCE ITS POSTED THERE WONT BE A REPEAT OF LAST NIGHT

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ellsey · 4 years

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Agents of Shield Rewatch 7x09 As I Have Always Been

First of all, we’re not going to discuss how many times I’ve seen this episode because...welll...the number is pretty high. But this is legit my #1 favorite episode of all time. This episode is an example of this show firing on all cylinders and just at it’s absolute best. And it’s really one of the last times we get to see our family all working together, and that’s where I think this show gets its strength.

Anyway, this may get super long idk I just have a lot of feelings about this ep.

The number of times Chloe must have had to film waking up in this thing is probably pretty high

Ok first things first, my very favorite thing is Sousa using that box of gloves as a pillow because having spent a good portion of my lower to mid-20s in labs I will not pretend like I haven’t considered doing that

“I was so much happier asleep” MY MOOD EVERY SINGLE DAY

94 km away...I’m going to try and keep track of these numbers

Sousa’s face at the smell of Deke’s 80′s cologne hahahaha

And now we’re in our loop #2 (but who knows the real number)

Ok, since I used to be a med tech (aka I worked in a hospital lab), I have questions about why they have so many green and blue tubes there. I mean...green tops are heparin tubes so I guess you can use those for basic chemistry tests, so that might be usable for multiple things. But those blue tops? That’s sodium citrate and the only thing I know of we used those for were coagulation tests. Which require some specific equipment. Does Jemma plan to run that many PT/PTTs?? And on what???

LOOK I HAVE A LOT OF QUESTIONS ABOUT THAT OK

And yes I remember those anticoagulants by heart still

The repeating title card is :chef’s kiss:

Daisy very quickly realizes she’s looping

91 km now

I’m wondering if there was something cut here by the way Sousa says, “See?” to Simmons as if we are missing some part of a conversation they had

My guess would be Jemma was all “You can go rest in your bunk you know Agent Sousa” and he’s like “Nope, gotta make sure Daisy rests” and Jemma’s like “...do you though?” and Sousa’s all “Yep. She will not do it on her own. Trust me.”

Maybe there’s enough for a fic plot in there

Ok, we’re now on loop #3

Daisy also very quickly realizes that she’s waking Sousa up with her boots and is very quiet so he can get some sleep

Awwww

I kind of wish I knew what May was sensing from Daisy right about now

I love love that Robo Coulson is so over this

The way he says “This guy” KILLS ME

So Coulson knows of 87 loops, but we know in this case Daisy didn’t wake him for 2 loops this time...we’re going to be doing some mathing soon lads

Also we just covered loops #4 and #5 since the ep started

Coulson says this is loop #90 which matches up still

And loop #6 for us now

Daisy was kind of loud there but didn’t wake up Sousa sooo...idk

79 km now

I love that Daisy realizes that to solve faster she needs the entire team

This must be loop #7 because Deke now says they are 65 km from the vortex

“It’s kind of hard to access” YOU DON’T SAY

And now people know about Jemma’s implant which...FINALLY

Phlebotinum is an amazing word bless

Making yourself cough like that seems like a rough day of filming

And directing

Deke’s face when Nana is dead though :(

Loop #8

It was sabotage!!!

But also Daisy died so we’re starting over memory-wise

Loop #9

48 km

Daisy legit forgot about her boots waking Sousa up too ha

Loop #10

And this time we wake up Coulson again

41 km

Enoch, Deke, and Jemma standing there is so freaking hilarious

Jemma is so done even though she doesn’t remember any of this hahaha

Loop #11

This is the one where we try to get Elena out and helping

Loop #12

Phlebotinum!

Sousa finally woke up on his own I guess

That smile when he says, “Reminds me of my SSR days” like

He lives for this chaos he just doesn’t want to admit it

Also look at him being a smart agent here

And let’s talk about the trust Sousa has in Daisy for a sec

He not just immediately believes her about the time loops, but he immediately understands what she is saying about what is happening. Thus he knows this isn’t really a sacrifice play because he’ll come back AND he’ll have saved her the trouble of forgetting. But also, he trusts her so implicitly that he’s willing to risk his life for her.

It’s beautiful y’all

And poor Daisy has to add watching Sousa die to her list of traumas cool cool cool

Although that does give me writing ideas...

Loop #13

Daisy immediately pops up to ensure herself that Sousa is still there napping away and like

I legit thought this was going to be the peak Dousy moment in this episode when she stops and just watches him breathing for a bit hahaha

She does not want to leave him there either and then the way she says, “We’re making progress” then adds a kind of soft “thanks to Sousa” like

Daisy is going through some stuff here

Coulson is going through some stuff too

Clark Gregg is killllllling this

And Coulson realizes that Enoch is the problem

“Oh dear” ENOCH HAHAHAHA

Loop #14

“Why do you care?” “Because you don’t”

Ummmmm MY HEART

But Daisy is not just accepting that he’s willing to die for her, she wants to know why now

Which obviously we will circle back to in a few loops or so

See, Jemma says she has to be awake to remove them implant...I guess the difference before was that Enoch wasn’t removing it?

Idk that makes no sense

Loop #15

Send in Sousa to distract Enoch

That “Hello!!” omg Sousa no

Sousa is surprisingly bad at this

Sousa’s muffled “Sorry” KILLS ME

As does Daisy’s face

Loop #16

Appeal to Enoch’s sense of irony

Loop #17

Have Jemma countermand her previous order

Loop #18

Bring in the whole gang

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS KILLS ME

“Where’d he get all those weapons?”

Poor dead Deke

Them realizing it doesn’t matter because they’ll all come back

The way May looks like she’s relaxing

Sousa’s feet framing Daisy’s face

Legit this is amazing and I love it

Loop #19

“Actually, I can take a loop”

WE LOVE TO SEE IT

“It all phases me, just maybe not my face”

Ummmmm sir

Your face

While lovely it definitely gives you away

The saddest thing to me about this is that Daisy can’t seem to understand why he’s always willing to help and wants to watch over her. It’s like she still doesn’t think she’s worthy of being treated like this.

“Some of my favorite people are people like you” I CRY

Whew there’s a lot to parse here.

First of all, I think Daisy actually really likes that Sousa is seemingly not phased by anything (or at least, not super bothered by it) because her life is always going to be chaotic that’s just facts

Second, in this very short time of knowing her, Sousa definitely has her pegged. He knows that she craves other people, but is also probably a bit scared to want to be around other people. He knows she’s hopelessly stubborn, but that’s because she cares so much. And he knows that she needs someone to have her back no matter what, because she won’t have her own.

Of course, there’s also a personal element here as indicated by the next part of their conversation.

Also of note, when Daisy is pressing with the questions, wanting to know why he’s always there for her, she’s leaning forward while he sits back.

Now though, when the question is a bit more personal, she sits back in a very protective stance. I think she’s a little scared of what he’ll say to her question. Because she realizes that she likes him. A lot. And what if he’s just like a generally good guy and this has nothing to do with her?

But of course, it has everything to do with her as indicated by what Sousa says next. “Not for everyone. It helps if they’re fun to be around, and if they say what they mean, and if they have that super power where they can rock things around which is very impressive.”

And Daisy’s immediate response?? SHE SMILES. Like...this is what she needs and what she wants but what she’s been too afraid to go after. And here it is just falling in her lap.

Now that everything is out in the open, they are both leaning towards each other...

Also I love that she says, “That’s awfully specific” and he doesn’t shy away from her. He just agrees with her. They both know what that really means.

And they both like it

Legit here I was chanting KISS KISS KISS but I thought it was a missed moment

I am so happy I was wrong

So the new plan is to misdirect Enoch by having Sousa go in to take the implant out, but really Sousa is leading Enoch into a fight with him, Mack, May, and Elena and like what a squad

But also this was a super plan, and I wonder if Coulson was involved or if this was Daisy/Sousa original

Either option seems likely

“Next time, same thing but faster”

Daisy is really good at following instructions y’all

Loop #20

Daisy asks for help and Sousa immediately agrees to help and THAT IS WHAT DID IT FOR DAISY JOHNSON FRIENDS

Like...I know she’s feeling under the gun for time because Coulson said same thing but faster

But also, peak romance is someone just wanting to help her no questions asked which, given her history makes complete sense

She needs a constant, someone who will be there for her no matter what

I feel like this started in some ways with Lincoln. He was just so sweet and helpful to her. And granted he had his own demons to deal with, but in the end he was willing to give up everything to save the world and Daisy herself.

But he also showed Daisy that she could expect love and support and she was worthy of that (even if she doubted it later)

So here’s this guy, who’s just smart and kind and good and clearly into her

So, knowing that this could be one of her lasts chance to do this and realizing that at any rate he’ll totally forget about it anyway, she makes a move

And like this kiss?? It’s hot y’all

You can tell Daisy just like lol Imma kiss him, but then they are both caught in this moment and go back for me

But also he definitely led for that second kiss

“That was nice” like hahahaha amazing undersell Daisy

And then she traces his collarbone like whoa I need to fan myself for a bit

“Now we need to drop a space robot”

I can’t tell what Sousa is more confused by- that statement or the kiss itself

Imagine being Sousa though. You just got woken up by this beautiful woman who asks for you help then kisses you when you say “Sure thing.”

He’s truly living the dream

Oh also we’re 11 km from the vortex now

It turns out Enoch is the answer to all our problems

But also we have to kill him in the process :(

And then poor Simmons has a breakdown over leaving Alya presumably, but also she’s a better mom than me because after 3 years in space with one of my little super geniuses I’d be more than ready for a vacay idk

I love my kids but they are...a lot

And finally, Loop #21

I guess Daisy left Sousa to sleep for this loop

<1 km from the vortex too eek

Enoch immediately understands what is happening :(

I love that Enoch has reached the point where he feels like this entire crew is his family and would sacrifice themselves for him

Enoch didn’t feel lonely until he had friends :((

This whole thing is breaking my heart...not just Enoch in the process of dying, but Coulson actually talking about his deaths and Daisy having to try and process all this

“Yet, this is the nature of families. I have seen it countless times on countless worlds. People arrive so we celebrate, and people leave us, so we grieve. We do what we can with the time in between, but the cycle is always there. No one escapes it. Not even me.”

This really got to me. My family has changed a lot through the years. People have come and gone. Babies have been born. People have died. And nothing I do can change this cycle. Sometimes it makes me happy; sometimes it hurts. But nothing I do can change that process, and that’s not always easy for me to accept.

I think Daisy and Coulson are having a moment here too, where Daisy is telling both Coulson and Enoch that even though they are not human, that doesn’t make them any less alive to the people who love them

RIP Enoch, you were the bestest Chronicom to ever robot

And of course we get one last buzzkill with Nathaniel and Kora

Queen Kora you deserve better

Ok first some timeloop math. We saw 21 loops on screen, but loop #5 was loop #90 for Coulson. So if we figure Daisy died say...every 10-15 ish time loops and it took her 2 or 3 to wake Coulson up, we can probably add an additional 25 time loops or so. So we’re probably looking at around 130 loops roughly.

Of course this begs the question, did Daisy decide to kiss Sousa more than once? It’s possible. I kind of like to think she did.

First of all, mad props to Joel for nailing that death scene. He was absolutely incredible. And clearly this episode rates 1000000000/10 on the Dousy scale because like...everything. The talk, the kiss, the sacrifice...amazing. I was 95% sure I was getting ending Dousy after this. This episode also gets 50000/10 on the Teamwork! scale because our team did so well and were strongest when they worked together. And of course Enoch gets a 10000000000000000/10 on the Good Chronicom scale because he legit was the bestest Chronicom that could ever not-live.

Since we’re in a timeloop and not in a particular time period, I’m going with the Dousy-est of songs, “peace” by Taylor Swift.

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#aos #aosrewatch #aosrewatchs7 #dousy #daniel sousa #daisy johnson #phil coulson #jemma simmons #enoch #deke shaw #melinda may #alphonso mackenzie #elena rodriguez #time loops #so many time loops #this really got so amazingly long #I regret nothing

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agerefandom · 4 years

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Shapes and Friends

Fandom: Night in the Woods

Characters: Regressor!Mae Borowski, featuring Gregg/Angus as baby!Mae’s friends and cg figures

Words: 1,200

Summary: Mae regresses while waiting for food, but it’s not bad when her friends are nearby.

Warnings: There are thin lines between dissociation and regression in this story, so if you’re bothered by descriptions of dissociation this fic might not be for you! ‘Little’ is used as an adjective to refer to regression. Lots of sensory description, but in a positive way.

Gregg and Angus’s apartment was nice. It was a little stinky, like boys and musty second-hand stores and cigarettes. But it was still nice. There was always snack food in the cupboards, and lights around their bedroom that flashed in soft patterns, and they had a loft bed (how cool was that??).

Mae especially liked their couch, squishy enough to swallow you and made of leather that squeaked when you moved on it. She liked the holes in the leather that you could stick your hand in and feel the stuffing, stringy but soft between your fingers.

Mae was playing with the squeaky couch, wiggling her butt to make silly sounds. Some of them were high and some of them were low and she couldn’t figure out if there was a pattern to it. Sometimes her elbows brushed against the leather, sticky with the summer heat. Bare skin made a different sound against the couch, but they all made her happy.

“Hey Mae.”

She looked up to see Angus leaning in the doorway. He looked kind of scruffy today, soft patches of hair scattered on his jaw and cheeks. He was still wearing his sweater vest, but the sleeves of his button-up were rolled to the elbow, and that was how you could tell he was feeling casual. Mae blinked at him, trying to smile but feeling too far away to tell if she was doing a good job. Angus’s voice was softer when he spoke again.

“Do you want some pizza?”

Mae nodded. She was probably hungry. She usually spaced out around dinner time.

“She said yeah,” Angus called back into the bedroom. “Do you want me to order it? She’s little.”

“Baby Mae??!”

Gregg’s voice was loud and excited, and he raced into the room a second later, shoving a phone into Angus’s hands on the way past. He seemed to reconsider the motion as he did it, making a quick turn and running back to give Angus a loud kiss on the cheek before pelting towards the couch again. He dropped to his knees and slid across the carpet, ending perfectly in front of Mae where she was sitting on the couch.

“Hey baby Mae, how you doing?”

Mae did her best to smile at him as well.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Gregg nodded. “Food’s gonna be on its way soon, do you want blocks or cuddles?”

Blocks were nice. Cuddles were nice. Mae tried to put those facts together and hit a wall. What was the question? She was trying to answer something, but she couldn’t remember why she was thinking about cuddles.

Oh, hey, Gregg was here! Mae reached out a hand to touch his hair, patting the crunchy top layer. Gregg put a lot of goop in his hair that made it not very fun to play with. Mae sometimes used goop to make her hair look spikey and awesome but mostly she just let it do what it wanted. She didn’t like the stiff feeling like Gregg did.

Greg tilted his head into her hand, letting her play with it. She used both hands to push it into a funny looking mohawk, but it was making her fingers sticky and she didn’t like it. She wiped her fingers on her shirt and poked Gregg’s cheek instead. Angus got scratchy when he didn’t shave in the mornings, but Gregg was always smooth and soft, like Mae’s cheeks. She pressed on his cheekbones, his bottom lip, the tip of his nose, between his eyebrows. So many textures for a single face.

Gregg took a deep breath and puffed his cheeks out like a chipmunk. Mae poked the new texture on his cheeks, then put her hands on either side of Gregg’s face and pressed the air out of his mouth. It made a funny squeaking sound, and that made Gregg laugh really hard. Mae tried to do the same thing to her cheeks, but she couldn’t make the same squeaky sound that Gregg did.

“Okay, baby Mae, let’s get you some blocks.” Gregg held out his arms, as if he wanted Mae to come into them. Mae looked at him uncertainly. Could she really move her body off the couch? It felt so big and unwieldy. “Take my hands,” Gregg suggested.

That seemed like something Mae could do.

She slipped her hands into Gregg’s, and he pulled her to her feet. Mae wobbled, dizzy and high up and far away, but Gregg wrapped an arm around her and she wasn’t scared of falling. She pressed her forehead into his shirt and got lost in that feeling for a second, the ridges of the neckline against her eyebrows and the rough texture of the fabric on her skin.

Gregg helped her sit again, a little further away from the couch, and went to get a box from the bookshelf. Mae entertained herself by running her fingers over the carpet, making little popping sounds with her lips. The carpet was rough in one direction and smooth in the other, and she drifted off again in the sensation.

“Here you go.” Gregg startled her by putting a box in front of her, a colourful box with stickers all over it. It looked like a kid had decorated it, but Gregg had done it himself, with all of Mae’s favourite colours. He was a good artist when he tried, but he preferred to make a big mess when he could get away with it. Mae loved watching him push paint around a page with his fingers, even though she didn’t like the feeling on her own hands.

It was Mae’s toy box, full of things that Gregg and Angus had bought for her. Mostly Gregg, but Angus had added a little stuffed bunny with stars on the ears, and Mae loved it so much. Mae had been surprised when they had first shown it to her, but now it just made her smile. She knew everything inside, stuffies and squishies and toys with lights that flashed different colours. Gregg only pulled out the blocks for now, upending the plastic bag they were kept in and letting them tumble across the carpet.

Mae picked a few of them up and ran her fingers over them. The edges, the curves, rough with wood grain and mixed up with sharp corners that poked her when she pressed her thumb on them. She knocked them against each other, enjoying the noise. Gregg played as well, stacking up towers of blocks and prompting Mae to knock them down. He laughed at the destruction, looking pleased with her poking fingers.

Eventually, Angus came back from the phone call and sat beside Gregg, one arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and the other one helping with the towers.

Mae knew that the pizza would come soon, and the food would be in her tummy, and she would come back from the place where she was drifting. But for now, it was nice to feel the corners of the blocks and watch Angus help Gregg stack them higher. The shapes became real between her fingers, feeling the limits of them. She could knock down all the towers she liked because they would just be rebuilt in new ways, to the sound of Gregg’s delighted laughter. Things were far away, but it didn’t mean they were bad. It was kind of nice to drift when your friends were holding on tight, and you knew they wouldn’t let you go.

#agere writing #sfw agere #nitw agere #nitw fanfic #sfw age regression #age regression writing #regression writing #sfw cgre #cgreg #night in the woods #mae borowski #my writing #cglre terminology #fandom agere #fandom regression

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anisanews · 3 years

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USMNT player ratings: Grades for U.S. men’s national team vs. Switzerland

The U.S. men’s national team’s nine-game unbeaten streak came to an end against Switzerland, and so did some of the good vibes and positive momentum it had built up during that run. Sunday’s game got away from the USA in the second half and the final 2-1 result was ultimately a flattering one given all the chances Switzerland created.

But as with every international match, there are plenty of caveats: The Americans played a strong opponent — Switzerland is ranked No. 13 and full of accomplished pros — and they were missing their best player (Christian Pulisic, because of Champions League duty) and their most influential player (Tyler Adams, out injured). They also had heavy legs from their high-altitude training, as captain Weston McKennie explained postgame.

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The attitude and desire were the big positive and the USA had several good moments of swarming pressing which resulted in its best scoring chances. The Americans committed numbers in the attack when they had Switzerland pinned in its own half. But when it came to building out of the back and maintaining sustained possession, the quality just wasn’t there and the giveaways were plenty. That’s a dangerous game to be playing on the international level.

And those problem areas that were exposed against Switzerland might plant a seed of doubt heading into the USA’s next match: a single-elimination Nations League showdown Thursday against Honduras, a country that has regularly given the USMNT fits.

Here are five takeaways from the match and grades for each USMNT player:

1. McKenzie can do the job

There’s an open spot at starting center back with the injury to NY Red Bulls stalwart Aaron Long. Mark McKenzie got the opportunity to fill in alongside John Brooks and showed he is definitely a candidate to be the long-term solution. Not only did he make big plays, but he also brought a calm to the position. USMNT coach Gregg Berhalter gave him a positive review postgame.

2. Center forward is wide open

You’ve got to hand it to Josh Sargent (photo below). His level of fight and commitment is off the charts. But at some point execution matters, and not just when it comes to scoring goals. He offered little when it came to hold-up play or combination play to help the U.S. push up the field. Though the clamoring for Daryl Dike and Jordan Siebatcheu will surely grow, it’s hard to see Berhalter moving from Sargent just yet. In fact, he felt that Sargent “had a good game.”

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3. Gio Reyna … luxury player?

Maybe Reyna was one of the players who suffered the most from the heavy legs McKennie referenced. Reyna only appeared when the U.S. reached the Switzerland penalty box. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known he was in the game.

His pressing and defensive presence were several notches below his other teammates in the attack. And he didn’t make up for it with any difference-making plays. In fact, he had a team low passing percentage (79.5 percent). Berhalter’s U.S. national team, which is based on collective pressing and movement, can’t afford luxury players. Reyna was that on the day.

4. Aaronson earned a starting spot

While Reyna was disappointing, Brenden Aaronson was one of the USA’s bright spots. When they struggled to find any outlets for their build-up, there was Aaronson. He constantly showed for the ball, controlled it well for the most part and took a beating from the Swiss players. His passing could be better, but he had a tremendous work rate and was also dangerous around the box (he assisted on the lone U.S. goal). When Pulisic is back, Reyna’s the odd man out at this point.

5. Central midfield

This is the area of the field that could present the biggest challenge to the system Berhalter is trying to construct. Without the right players executing as a unit at a high enough level, things can get disjointed quickly. That cohesiveness just wasn’t there against Switzerland and the USA’s struggles in possession and build-up came down primarily to the midfield’s shortcomings.

The central holding midfield position is the one to watch most closely in the upcoming matches. Jackson Yueill (photo below) had one of his tougher outings for the USA, mainly in passing and possession. Kellyn Acosta brought more mobility and a change of pace to the passing in the second half, but he was still outmatched. Two deep-lying central midfielders could provide the most balanced solution until the team is back humming on all cylinders.

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U.S. player ratings

Ethan Horvath: 6.5

After a quiet first half, he came up with big stops in the second half to keep the game close. There was little he could do on either Swiss goal and he guessed right on the penalty that went wide.

Sergino Dest: 6

Not a vintage performance for Dest at left back, but he’s still so important to the attack. He has the skill to make something out of nothing and nearly scored on a solo run in the first half. He did commit a handball offense in the box to lead to Switzerland’s missed PK.

John Brooks: 6

He combined timely interventions and clearances with forgettable moments, especially in the second half. He’s still a lock as a starter in the back.

Mark McKenzie: 6.5

Calm, clean and confident presence in the back. Aside from one miscue, this performance will make U.S. fans rest a bit easier in the aftermath of the Long injury. Berhalter’s lone criticism of McKenzie in the postgame: He needs to do more to help the defensive line move up to keep the team compact. That’ll come.

Reggie Cannon: 6

He definitely had his hands full defensively, but for the most part he did his job. With as much as Dest pushes forward on the left, Cannon has to be selective about his attacking forays from right back. He did well to pick out good moments, especially in the second half. When he did push up, he was quality with his passing, decision-making and crossing.

Jackson Yueill: 5

This was a difficult game for Yueill as the deep-lying mid, especially when it came to helping the USA get out of its own end. He not only turned the ball over in key areas, but he also looked physically overwhelmed when he was pressured.

Weston McKennie: 5.5

An up-and-down performance from the captain. He showed solid decision-making and good positioning and he dished out a couple of world-class passes. But he also had a handful of miscues and a stretch in which he couldn’t find the game. This U.S. team needs McKennie to be a force that carries them. A week of high-altitude training after a long season may be the culprit in this instance.

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Sebastian Lletget: 7

Lletget is the perfect two-way midfielder for this team and he’s a fixture in this lineup as long as he continues to play like this. He could’ve done more to help Yueill in build-up play, but there’s no questioning his work ethic, defensive commitment and attacking instincts. He has a knack for perfectly timing his runs and he’s decisive and sharp when he gets the ball.

Brenden Aaronson: 6.5

He worked hard to get into the game. Outside of a few misplaced passes, he generally made a positive contribution when he got on the ball. His ability to show for a pass and draw fouls helped relieve some of the pressure the U.S. faced in its half of the field. Aaronson tired as the minutes wore on, but this was a performance to build on.

Gio Reyna: 4.5

Had a few good crosses, a dangerous shot and a nice combination with Cannon in his 72 minutes, but he generally struggled to leave a mark. The USA’s attacking moves actually seemed to slow down when the ball reached him. He was a non-factor defensively.

Josh Sargent: 4.5

Tough day at the office. The effort was there, but he struggled to hold the ball up, and when he did, his passing was generally off or he coughed it up. He got on the end of a couple of crosses in the box, but that’s about it.

Substitutes

Tim Ream: 4.5

Tough spot for Ream. He came on for Brooks just as the U.S. was under the most pressure and he was nearly immediately burned by Swiss forward Breel Embolo. He was easily beaten in another instance by Haris Seferovic.

Yunus Musah: 5

In his 29 minutes in place of Sebastian Lletget, he struggled to get into the game.

Kellyn Acosta: 6

Compared to Yueill, he was quicker and more decisive at the deep-lying position, but it still was nothing to write home about.

Jordan Siebatcheu: N/A

A quiet 18 minutes at forward from the man who plays his soccer in Switzerland.

Tim Weah: N/A

He brought a boost of energy and was willing and dynamic on the right wing, but he didn’t make an impact in 18 minutes.

DeAndre Yedlin: N/A

This was more of a welcome back for his first minutes at right back since 2019. Eight of them, to be exact.

from Anisa News https://ift.tt/3iihYOf

#breaking news today breaking news headlines breaking news headlines today chicago breaking news usa

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breakingsomething · 4 years

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third year

basic summary: chase hates his birthday, but maybe someone can help him change that.

trigger warnings: mentions of past suicide attempts

"good morning, bastard."

chase groans, pausing before yanking his blankets off his head. he rolls over his bed to see henrik standing at his door, looking amused. "the fuck do you want?" he mumbles, already feeling the morning chill on his bare arms.

henrik smiles softly. "happy birthday."

oh. it's his birthday, isn't it.

two years since he made his attempt. a year since he was wrongly arrested for kidnapping. a year since his kids went missing.

"shit," he says. then he pulls his blankets back over his head.

there's a moment of silence. "come on, bruder, get up. we have a surprise for you today."

"i'm sure you fucking do," chase mutters from beneath his covers. his eyes still burn from crying so much last night. he can't even remember what he was crying about, really. "is it worth getting up for?"

"it is," henrik says. chase listens to the door squeaking as henrik holds it open, waiting for a response. when chase doesn't give one, he sighs. "get up when you're ready, ok? don't spend all day doing the sulks. you will not feel better that way, i promise."

chase doesn't move as the door closes. he waits a minute before looking up to see henrik is, in fact, gone.

good. he didn't want him to stay anyway.

he thinks he goes back to sleep. when he wakes again, the room is considerably brighter, and he wonders if he should bother getting up. but he's extremely hungry - if he's remembering right, he hasn't eaten since yesterday morning - so after a few moments of psyching himself up, he pushes himself into a sitting position and swings his legs off the bed. even that simple motion is enough to make his head pound. he really wished he hadn't cried so much last night. too lazy to go to his drawers and grab a pair of socks, he patters from the room barefoot, wincing at the cold floor beneath his feet.

the house is very, very quiet. chase checks each room on his way downstairs, and eventually realises that everyone must be out. "i take it you're all planning a surprise party for me, huh?" he says aloud. of course, there's no response. chase chuckles silently, before setting about making toast. the clock on the wall tells him it's half twelve. damn, he really did sleep in. the silence is unnerving him - he really hopes anti isn't involved in this somehow.

after he's eaten, he goes to take a shower. he figures that while he's awake, maybe he'll go for a walk, get some fresh air to maybe help get rid of this headache. his hands brush over his bullet scar on the side of his head, and he winces. it doesn't hurt, but the memories of what he was doing two years ago today certainly do.

once he's dried his hair, he pulls a cap and beanie over his head and tries not to think about it.

he locks the door and sets out, walking aimlessly away from the house. he wanders through the city, listening to the sounds and watching the people go by. he's suddenly very aware of how all the other people he's seeing have real lives, and that he's not the only one with problems - there's probably someone here who has it even worse than him. the thought makes him feel odd, so he tries to focus on other things instead, like shop windows and passing conversations. a few people catch him looking and he quickly glances away as he goes by, keeping his eyes to the floor.

he stops for lunch around two. the man who serves him in gregg's smiles and comments on how good chase's hair looks, and his face burns. he fumbles with his change as he pays and races out as quickly as he can. marvin would be ashamed of him.

he walks along the shorefront and eats his sausage roll. he should probably think about going home - he's sure his brothers are wondering where he is - but he really doesn't want to think about it being his birthday.

technically speaking, this isn't even his real birthday. just the one jack assigned him; he'd rather celebrate his birthday now anyway, given that all his brothers birthdays are so close together. well. he'd really rather not celebrate his birthday at all, to be honest.

is that why he's not going home? is that why he's alone, waving off seagulls from his cheap lunch instead of with his brothers, eating cake and playing mario kart?

it's getting cold. he's not wearing a jacket, just a thin pink hoodie, and he can feel goosebumps appearing on his arms. he decides he might as well go home and get this all over with, if only so that the goddamn seagulls leave him alone.

he tosses the rest of his sausage roll to the floor and watches the birds go wild over it. probably a dumb idea, but whatever. he starts off in the direction of home, still feeling completely miserable.

there's still no one there when he gets home.

chase peeks cautiously around each doorway, fear bubbling in his chest. "hello?" he called nervously. "hen? jackie? marv?"

the floorboards creak under his footsteps. there's no response.

chase hugs himself tightly and sits down on the couch, trembling slightly. please don't let him have gotten them. please, please, don't let him have gotten them.

he only waits for half an hour before he hears keys in the lock.

immediately he springs to his feet, racing to the kitchen and pulling out the largest kitchen knife he can find. if that glitch has taken his brothers, if he's coming to kill him, he's not gonna make it easy.

"hey, chase! sorry we were gone so long, we got sidetracked and - woah, woah, dude! put that thing down, it's just us!"

chase just stares at the man in the doorway. reddish hair, round glasses over dark blue eyes - he looks like jackie, but what if he's not? what if he's - what if -

jackie takes his hand and gently uncurls his fingers from the knife handle. chase can see henrik and marvin in the background, clutching a big box covered with a blanket between them, looking shocked. he's breathing very quickly. jackie takes the blade and puts it back into its drawer, slowly turning back to chase so as not to startle him.

"hey man, it's just us, ok?" jackie says, hands up. chase stares at his feet, trembling.

"thought you were - thought you were him," he mumbles, embarrassed. "you were all gone, no note or anything, i got scared."

"we left a note!" henrik says. he pushes the box into marvin's hands and comes to stand beside his brother. "didn't we? marvin, you left a note, right?"

"uh," marvin says. he struggles with the box in his hands. "i, uh, may have forgotten?"

henrik rolls his eyes. "we're sorry, chase. you were asleep and we didn't want to wake you."

chase was fixated on marvin."what's in the box?"

marvin grins, and sets the box down on the kitchen table. "ah, but take a look!" he announces in his best performer's voice. he leaps on top of a chair and spreads his hands out. "step right up, and admire the beauty, the majesty, the magnificence of -"

he lifts his arms, blue sparks trailing from his fingertips as he uses his magic to levitate the blanket from the box. he's gotten a lot better at controlling his magic again since his return, and he's absolutely showing it off. jackie and henrik both grab chase's hands as the blanket moves to reveal -

it's a black cat carrier. chase just stares at it, open mouthed, until he hears a small mewling from inside.

he claps his hands over his mouth and feels his eyes well up with tears.

"go see her!" jackie says, unable to contain himself any longer.

"yes, please do, i can't hold up this blanket all day," marvin laughs. he snatches the blanket from the air and looks down at chase, who's covered his face with his hands and is sobbing quietly.

"hey, hey!" henrik soothes, patting his arm gently. "what's wrong?"

chase wipes his face, giggling. "you guys!" he beamed, scrubbing away his tears. "did you really -"

"come see!" marvin says, and steps down from his chair to open the door of the carrier. "chase, come here and let her see you!"

chase peeks inside the carrier and sees a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him. his breath catches, and he lets out a gasp. the kitten mewls again, taking a cautious step towards chase.

"we've been keeping her secret for weeks!" jackie grins, coming up behind chase. "she's from the shelter on the high street, she's six months old, her previous family couldn't care for her or her siblings so we decided to take her!"

"she's already been - what is the word? we had the spaying done for her." henrik explains. "we were going to take her home last week, but we decided to wait." he clicks his tongue, trying to get the kitten to come forward. she does so, hesitantly padding half out of the carrier onto the table. she cowers back slightly at all the people around her, and jackie, henrik and marvin step back to give chase and the kitten a bit of space.

chase removes a hand from his mouth and slowly, carefully, stretches it out for the kitten to sniff. she looks at him, then fully leaves her carrier and smells chase's hand. he admires her, a huge smile spreading across his face as she purrs quietly. her fur is fully black, and she's very small, her tail swishing around and batting chase's hand. he laughs, feeling more tears fall from his eyes.

"do you have any name ideas?" marvin asks.

chase nods. "jaffa cake."

jackie and marvin immediately burst into peals of laughter, while henrik just looks confused. "what - why jaffa cake?" he asked. "i mean, it is of course your choice, but -"

"jaffa cake." chase says firmly, and he grins widely. he gently strokes the kitten's head, and she allows it, purring softly. "i love her so, so much, guys, thank you so much! i - i don't even know what to say!"

jackie rushes forwards and throws his arms around chase, much to his surprise. "happy, happy, happy birthday!" he cheers.

marvin comes round to his side and ruffles his hair underneath his hats. "happy birthday, asshole." he chuckles.

henrik smiles awkwardly at the ground for a second before pulling chase into a huge hug. "ich liebe dich, chase brody," he beams, burying his face in his brother's shoulder.

and chase just breathes, trying not to cry any more as he swells with love, only held up by the three sets of arms wrapped around him. he sniffles, closing his eyes. "i love you guys so fucking much!" he sobs, and the four of them fall into a heap on the floor, giggling and holding on to each other like they were all that was keeping each other afloat.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #henrik von schneeplestein #jackieboy man #arc three: righting wrongs

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siriuslyblack12 · 4 years

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chapter 7

“For the last time, I am not going as Dorothy for Halloween!” Sirius exclaimed.

“Well it’s either me or you, and mum’s already made my tin man costume. It’s sick, by the way.” James pleaded.

Remus put his face in his hands and groaned. The marauders were famous for their group costumes, but they’d been arguing about their plans the whole day. “I told you Wizard of Oz was a bad idea, why can’t we do Scooby-Doo like Peter said?”

“Because Remus, Mary said that Lily said that Scooby-Doo isn’t cool. We have to be cool.” James said, as if he was offended that the other boy didn’t already know. It was truly pathetic, how much he sacrificed for a girl who supposedly didn’t even like him back. “Plus two of us would have to dress as girls, so unless you want to spend the night in an orange turtleneck and a wig, we’re doing Wizard of Oz.”

Gregg’s perhaps wasn’t the best place to discuss their Halloween plans, as firstly, they were surrounded by people they weren’t inviting to their party and secondly, Peter’s mouth was full of pastry. Sirius took one of the many rolls the boy had laying in front of him and took a bite for himself, arms around Remus’s shoulders. “Who’s to say that he wouldn’t be Daphne?”

“’m not being Daphne, or Velma for that matter. I thought we agreed that I’d be Shaggy.”

“More like shag me!” Sirius laughed far too loudly considering they were in a public place. “You’re Daphne, I’m Velma, Peter’s Shaggy and James is Fred. We could even get Lils to be Scooby, if it’s cool enough for her.”

“It’s definitely not.” James said, “I don’t even know why you’re so opposed to Dorothy, I reckon you could pull it off.”

“You’re talking to a taken man here Prongs, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Remus rolled his eyes but sunk further into Sirius’s arms, relishing in the heat. They’d been together for a little over a month, and it had been the best month of life. Dates, dinners, just spending time together still made his stomach flip. “Well it’s good that I agree with James then, isn’t it?”

Peter finally spoke, the pastries gone from his mouth, “Maybe we should vote on it.”

There was a general hum of agreement on the table, and Peter continued, “All in favour of Scooby-Doo?” Sirius raised his hand, glaring at Remus, obviously trying to get him to do the same. “All in favour of Wizard of Oz?” Everybody except Sirius raised their hand, in fact he defiantly pressed his down into the table.

“Then it’s settled, we get to see Padfoot in heels!” James said excitedly.

“You should be so lucky.”

Remus sighed, jumping in before there was a full out brotherly brawl between the two boys, “Where are we even going? I thought Marlene said she couldn’t host this year.”

“That’s true,” Sirius began. “Which is why we’re going to Mary’s. Who knew that Mary fucking MacDonald was a party animal? The girl who got like, 5 A’s in her exams last year.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.” Peter said cautiously. He and Mary had also been steadily dating since September, spending even more time together than before. It was quite rare to see the two apart.

Sirius laughed, “Well considering our Moony’s grades were even better than that, I’d say it’s not.”

“How the fuck is everyone so smart?” James groaned.

Remus chuckled along with everyone, mostly because he didn’t want to confront it. He himself had no idea how he’d managed to get the grades he’d gotten, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. His mum had bought him a cake and everything.

Peter cleared his throat, standing unceremoniously. “Well, my mum probably wants me back home soon. I’ll see you at Mary’s.”

They watched as he gathered his things and left with a final wave and smile, followed by James doing the same, “C’mon Pads, mum said we could have the TV today. Finally!”

It didn’t go unnoticed to Remus how Sirius’s face lit up in glee at the mention of Mrs Potter. The smile spread over his face all the way up to his eyes, dimples settling in his cheeks. He was so happy. He wished it could always be like that. “You go ahead… me and Re might stay for a bit.”

Remus’s eyebrows shot up, “Will we now?”

“Only if you want.”

He scoffed at the thought that he’d turn down spending time with his boyfriend, yet was secretly delighted that Sirius cared enough to ask the question. James waved them off with a knowing smirk as Remus’s hand was grabbed and dragged out of the bakery. Excitable puppy.

It was only half an hour later as the two sat atop a hill onlooking the business of the town, their hands threaded between them and the other clutching some cheap brand of chocolate. The crisp Autumn air surrounded them, enclosing them in the comfort and peace of the gradually lowering sun. Remus went to look over at Sirius, only to find him looking right back at him. He smiled.

“You always look at me like that,” Remus started with adoration. “Like I’m worth something, or like I’m precious. I don’t know.”

“You are precious, Moons. For some reason you refuse to admit it, I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking.” Sirius said smugly. It was almost matter-of-factly, like he was so sure and confident in what he was saying.

Remus rolled his eyes, biting back the biggest grin in favour of leaning towards the boy for a sweet kiss. It was brief, but still made his head spin as he broke away drearily, “Baby.”

“Baby?” Sirius laughed. He took a strand of Remus’s hair between his two fingers and twirled it absentmindedly. “I like it.”

“You think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t!” He only laughed harder, tackling his boyfriend to the ground despite his loud protests. They fell into each other arms as they rolled over in the grass, smiling wide and chuckling to themselves. “I like it. I really do.”

Remus smiled, still disbelieving but feeling sarcastic enough to comment, “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Fuck, I love it!” Sirius groaned and met his lips in a longer kiss. He licked into his mouth through the smile on his face, hands cupping around the back of his neck. Remus sighed softly as the boy in front of him moved down to his neck ever so softly; leading him to blink up at the sky. Content and love were the only two thoughts running through his mind.

I can’t love him already, can I? Isn’t it too soon?

“Sirius-, you do know we’re, shit, we’re in public.” His thoughts were incoherent with the feather-light brush of lips just below his jaw.

Sirius pulled away slowly with one last peck to Remus’s lips, pausing for a moment to drink in his features. He bit his lip in a manner that could only be considered seductive. “I apologise, your majesty.” That earned him a punch to the shoulder. “We could go back to your house, if you want. Would your mum mind?”

Remus considered it, before deciding, “It’s probably best if we stay here, unless you want to answer about a million questions about everything she can think of.”

“I really don’t mind-“

“I know that,” He cut him off, drawing his eyes back to the view in front of him. Truth be told, he thought the real view was Sirius. “I just don’t think I could handle it. When I’m out to her, maybe. Or whenever she’s not in.”

Sirius nodded to show he understood and followed Remus’s gaze. “What about James’s house then? Sometimes I think mum loves us more than she loves James.”

“To be fair, can you really blame her?”

He shoved Remus’s chest and barked that beautiful laugh that was so often heard falling from his lips. “I’m telling Prongs you said that!”

“I’d like to see you try.” Remus teased lightly, thus ensuing another tackle to the ground. He hid his face in the collar of Sirius’s jacket to stifle his laugh. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found someone he could be so open with, someone that would listen happily to every one of his minor inconveniences or whims. Suddenly, his thoughts drowning out reality, the atmosphere around them became a lot sadder, more gentile. “You call Mrs Potter mum.”

“Well noticed.”

Remus put a hand to his heart in mock offence, “I was just wondering what is was about, that’s all. It’s not exactly like the time you called McGonagall mum by accident, is it?”

Sirius whined in protest at the mention of that infamous incident, protesting that the boys promised to never mention it again. The exact details were largely unknown, but it was held above his head to torment him playfully nonetheless. “I’ve been staying with them since… well you know, I guess it’s just become a habit. At least she’s better than my actual mother.” He laughed bitterly.

Remus’s lips thinned out as he asked cautiously, “Have you spoken to Regulus since we saw him?” After saying it he realised how it could have come off. “Not that… Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s…” Sirius trailed off, hands clutching at Remus’s waist as if trying to steady himself. “Short answer, no I haven’t.”

Remus made a sympathetic noise, “Do you want to speak to him?”

I’m over-stepping. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

“Of course I do, to be honest I just don’t know how. He’s so far away, you know? And he’s still in that fucking house and I just-“ Sirius sighed in frustration and hung his head, a small smile still determined to stay put on his lips.

Bringing the dark-haired boy to his chest, Remus tried his best to reassure him. “There’s no pressure to do anything, Pads. Find him whenever you’re ready, whether that’s tomorrow or in a month.”

“I know.” Sirius said quietly. “It’s just… a lot. What would I even say?”

“Whatever you need to, baby.”

Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting when he’d asked Regulus to come meet him in the park near the Black house. Memories of his childhood flashed through his mind, being in that park, playing with his little brother without a care in the world. He wondered when everything had started to get so messed up, and if it could ever be like it was. For now he would just have to take Remus’s advice and talk to him. Say whatever he needed to.

“Do you remember that game we used to play? The castle one? We’d stay here all day waiting for the climbing frame to be free and then pretend it was our castle, like we were in charge.” A familiar voice said coming up beside him.

“Reg-”

“No, no, let me.” Regulus insisted, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I hope your happy.”

Sirius spoke slightly louder than his brother, temper rising at the surprising change in tone, “What?”

“You finally got what you wanted, didn’t you? You’ve never liked it there, even when we were kids and everything was fine, you still weren’t happy. Well congratulations, you won. You fucking won and now you never have to go back. Some of us aren’t that lucky.” The last words were almost spat, ended with a bite of bitterness. His face was drained of colour, jaw set defiantly.

“Nothing was ever ‘fine’ about that house and you know it. How the hell was I supposed to stay?” Sirius replied through gritted teeth.

“You’re asking someone who did have to stay, you do know that right?”

Sirius looked at his brother face on for the first time in weeks, examining it closely and seeing the nerve that had been struck paint itself visibly. His heart filled with sympathy, but his head still maintained his anger. He couldn’t understand the position Regulus was in. He could never understand the position Regulus was in.

“I always knew you were selfish.” Regulus turned away from the close eyes.

Sirius stepped forward, fingers pointing into his brother’s chest to emphasise his point, “You can’t call me fucking selfish for caring about myself, okay! I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry, for leaving you there, Reg. I’m trying to make it better, I really am, but if you’re going to stand there and call me selfish and tell me I shouldn’t have done it then you can leave. Right now.”

Regulus was quiet for a few moments before turning back and muttering a short “Sorry.”

The two fell away from each other in a silent truce, eyes flicking over the park in front of them. So many memories, all of which dear to each of their hearts. “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know if you can.” Regulus replied honestly, fighting back the welling of tears. “It’s not as simple as just leaving, Sirius.” He didn’t even realise that that was the first time he’d said that name in weeks.

Sirius pulled down the cuffs of his jacket, “There’s always room for you at the Potter’s.”

“Not bloody likely.”

“Is that why the first thing James asked me when I went there is if you were with me?”

Regulus huffed, running a hand through his hair in a similar manner to Sirius’s own nervous gesture. It was a known fact that he didn’t really like his brother’s friends, which only made him more suspicious of James Potter’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Mother will be wondering why I’m not home already, I best go.”

“’m not stopping you.” Sirius fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it on, seeing a few unopened messages from Marlene and Remus when an idea came to his mind. “Text me if you need anything, whenever you feel like it. I don’t think dear Mother could manage to police who you’re talking to.”

After a hum of agreement from Regulus, he continued, “You could come to Mary’s Halloween party as well, I remember how much you used to love dressing up.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Just think about it.” Sirius pleaded, hands pressed together. “I’ll text you the details.”

Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled his brother into what was at first a casual hug, which then turned into a tight embrace. The tears that had been building in Regulus’s eyes spilled slowly as he held onto Sirius tighter than he’d ever held anyone, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Maybe he would go to this Halloween party, if it meant getting away from his Mother and closer to the only member of his family he truly cared for.

October 31st was a night that for many meant dressing up, eating sweets and having youthful fun. For others it was more about the parties, drinking and drugs and all things that would be regretted in the morning. For the marauders however, most popular people in the school, resident trouble-makers, why couldn’t they have both?

“Oi Pete, stop eating all the snacks! The rest of us want to eat too.” Remus could hear James shout over the noise of the music blasting through the house.

“Leave the man be, Prongs. If he wants to stuff his face on mini-sandwiches who are we to stop him?” Sirius reasoned, taking one between his fingers and holding it up to Remus’s mouth. The boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but took the food that was offered to him nonetheless.

He’s cheesy. Good to know.

James took his attention away from Peter and towards the affection couple, smiling brightly, “Aw, you guys are too cute.” They groaned at that, before he muttered, “Me and Evans could have that, but she has to go around calling me ‘arrogant’, ‘self-centred’ and ‘the biggest prick she’s ever seen’. What’s she even on about?”

“I stand behind that!” Lily said from somewhere in the living room.

It was quite hard for Remus to take the scene in front of him seriously, considering everyone had dressed as beloved characters. Sirius had gone as far as to tie his hair up in two pigtails, red ribbons in tow, and wear one of Marlene’s blue dresses (with shorts underneath it, he’d assured everyone). He looked good. Remus had never thought he’d think that about someone in a Dorothy costume. For a moment he forgot that he could now do something about it, but before long he was stepping forward and taking the boy in his arms.

Sirius let out a surprised laugh, “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You want another mini-sandwich? You should probably have some now before they’re gone.”

“I’m good.”

The two stayed like that for a few moments, basking in each other’s arms peacefully. They had already been such good friends that this felt natural and comfortable. It was sweet, a little excessive, but after pining for so long it was almost necessary to be close as often as possible. Making up for lost time. Remus noticed Sirius glance at the door worriedly, and so asked “Waiting for someone?”

Sirius’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, “You could say that, yeah.”

Remus gave him a concerned look, shifting so that his arms fell loosely around they boy’s waist, “Who? I thought everyone was already here.”

Looking into the tawny-haired boy’s eyes, he thought for a moment. He’d invited Regulus without telling anyone, not even Mary, and it wasn’t exactly as if he was friends with anyone there. “Don’t worry about it, they’re probably not coming anyway.”

“Hey, hey,” Remus said as Sirius went to turn away from his embrace. Putting together the pieces in his mind, it was all much clearer than it had been, “It’s not Regulus, is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” The boy dismissed. “Let’s just have a good time.”

With a final caring look at each other, Sirius trying his best to reassure the other, the two moved into the party and separated reluctantly to spend their time equally between most of the people there. Remus found Lily and Dorcas, talking excitedly about some book or other over the fireplace and found himself joining them in conversation. He couldn’t help but notice Dorcas’s strange costume: a furry blue jacket and eyes painted onto a hat.

“I thought you and Marlene were doing a couple’s costume,” He prompted gently. “No offence or anything, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”

She smiled, “I’m the cookie monster, obviously. Marlene is Elmo.”

“Because they’re such a famous couple.” Lily said amusedly, arms folded across her chest.

“Of course.”

Sirius had found the other half of the strange couple, along with James, and the three were discussing the latest football match. He himself didn’t care much for the sport, favouring swimming far more, but watching his friends animatedly replay it was entertaining on it’s own.

“Did you see that penalty though!” Marlene exclaimed. “Sirius, what did you think?”

Startled and confused, he simply replied with the first thing that came to his mind after listening to their discussions, “It was ludicrous, yeah.”

“You’ve said that about everything, mate.” James laughed.

“Fuck.”

As they continued to talk and gossip, Sirius found his eyes flicking over the room to find Remus, deep in his own conversation. He was hit with a wave of emotion, of love, as he watched the way his hands moved as he made his point and the curls of his hair bounced as his head nodded to something Lily had said. This only grew as Remus met his eyes and sent him the most dazzling grin, causing Sirius to swoon slightly.

Peter was off somewhere else in the house, most likely damaging things and making Mary run after him; James was talking everyone’s ear of; Regulus couldn’t even show up to the party in the first place but the only boy that mattered to Sirius in that moment was the one he was looking at. The boy he was in love with. And suddenly, just looking at him, the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of them. Just for a moment, it could be like that.

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