#on it I circled a couple of dates for various things like exams and big events and hanging out with friends

[amaliatheartist]

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 26

Series Masterlist

Chapter 26

A/N: Italics indicate flashbacks

Summary: You and Fred have the first ultrasound and hear the heartbeat. You start to prepare for the move as the date is approaching. Warnings: Smut, edging, oral sex (male and female), swearing

Word Count: 6700

The past couple weeks have been hard on you and your body. You have had morning sickness most days, and whoever named it morning sickness is an absolute liar, you’ve been having it at all times of the day. You have been exhausted most days, and chasing an energetic two year old has made it even harder. Fred had scheduled Christie to come over while he was out on the road to try and relieve some stress from you and allow you to nap, and also get things ready for the move.

You are kneeling on the cool tile of the bathroom the sun just barely peeking through the blinds on the window. You woke up feeling extremely nauseous, barely making it to the bathroom before morning sickness took over you.

“Ugh” you groan flushing the toilet. Instead of standing up you lean back expecting to hit the bathtub but instead crash into Fred’s large legs; he must have followed you without you noticing.

He strokes your head as you sit in silence for a couple minutes. Your body is clammy; your face is hot, which is making you feel like you might be sick again. Fred grabs a facecloth and runs it briefly under the bathtub faucet before placing it on your forehead.

“I’m sorry babe” he says soothingly.

“It’s not your fault” you mumble. “I mean it kind of is, but I don’t blame you” you say as you tilt your head to look up at him.

“Well thanks smuk” he laughs lightly.

You sit on the floor for a couple minutes, with your eyes closed. After a few deep breathes you push up off the floor to stand up, Fred puts an arm under yours, helping to pull you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you, holding you against his chest, fingers tangled in your hair while you face is pressed into his chest.

“Was it like this last time, with Ollie?”

Your fingers lightly play with the back of his shirt, you look up at. You hear the gentle beating of his chest, your head rising and falling with his breaths.

“I wasn’t around as much during the beginning of that one, I missed some of this stuff” he says softly. Fred has never told you but you know he has some regrets for how things played out last time, not that you don’t.

“Babe once you found out you were there. I mean you didn’t know until I was almost 8 or 9 weeks pregnant. But once you found out you were amazing and did so much” Fred gently rubs circles on your back holding you against him. “You made me dinner, came to the appointments, made sure I never ran out of mushrooms” Fred chuckles slightly at that, a small smile appears on his face.

“You were there for me babe” you reassure him. He grips your collarbone; fingers tangled in your hair and he places a soft kiss to your forehead. You grip his t-shirt and take a deep breath before continuing “but yeah I had some morning sickness with him I wasn’t as tired though, but it was over by the end of the first trimester. So guess I still have a few more weeks of this”

“Sorry skat” he says resting his head on yours. You stand there for a little while later before you finally let go of Fred and walk over to the sink grabbing your toothbrush.

You begin brushing your teeth, while Fred leans against the doorframe waiting for you to finish. You spit out the toothpaste begin to rinse your mouth when you hear Fred over the running water ask “how far do you think you are?”

You turn around leaning against the vanity counter “Uh I had a period around Ollie’s birthday, so my G.P thinks this little one was likely conceived a couple weeks later, around my birthday.”

“So your 6 or 7 weeks then” he says and you nod into his chest.

“Yeah, so 6 or 7 more weeks of this” you groan. Fred walks over to you and scoops you up, carrying you to bed “I’m here for you babe” he whispers lying beside you; gently rubbing your back until you doze off again.

You wake up closer to 9am when you hear the bedroom door gently open; Fred brings you breakfast and tea in bed. “Hey babe” you mumble trying to open your eyes.

The bed dips while Fred leans up against the headboard sitting beside you “how you doing princesse?”

“Better than a couple hours ago” you say curling up beside him, your head leaning against his side.

“Christie will be here at 10:30 so we can leave any time after that.” Fred grabs the fork and scoops some eggs, bringing it to your mouth. You wrinkle your nose in disgust and shake your head, scrambled eggs was a great breakfast yesterday but not today.

His hand has begun rubbing soft soothing circles on your back, as he puts the fork back on the plate. “Bacon?” he asks, he doesn’t even wait for you to respond the look on your face giving away your answer.

“Toast?” he asks and you nod your head as he hands you the toast and sets the plate in front of you, trying to stop the crumbs from getting in the duvet.

You take two bites, before you get a whiff of the bacon causing you to gag. You quickly set the toast down and jump out of bed, taking some deep breaths trying not to vomit. Fred looks at you before you finally say “the bacon, it needs to go.”

“On it” he laughs shoving the bacon in his mouth. He quickly chews the two pieces of bacon, and you laugh watching him. When he finally swallows the last piece you crawl back into the bed beside him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Thanks babe” you say reaching over him for your tea.

“No problem I will eat your bacon any day” he says laughing. “You should eat some more food though” he suggests but you just shake your head and put the plate on the side table.

“I can’t eat now” you mumble feeling your stomach churn thinking of food. You bring the mug to your mouth; you smell the aroma of honey and lemon and feel the steam on your lips. The tea helps to settle your stomach slightly as you sit in silence with Fred for a couple minutes before you hear the loud banging of toys from the living room which draws Fred out to check on Oliver.

After getting ready you and Fred head out to look at some furniture and meet with the designer for the new house. You are bringing all your furniture from your current house, but given that the new house is substantially bigger you need to buy a lot more. You spend two hours looking at wallpaper patterns, furniture sets, throw pillows and various pieces of art.

You can tell Fred would have preferred you do this without him. You keep saying you want his opinion and input but he responds that as long as you and Ollie are there and he has a bed he doesn’t care about much more on the inside.

“So you want to design Oliver’s room the same as his current room?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah but with a toddler bed” you respond. “We thought the move would be easier on him if he had some similarities to the old place.”

“I have the paint we used, I will send it over to you” Fred adds.

“Okay well I think that’s good for today. Most of the big decisions are done and I will be in contact for everything else” Sarah says smiling while you both rise to your feet.

You walk out of the building; the cool Pittsburgh air hits your face. Your face burns from the temperature, while you pull your hood over your toque and zip your zipper up to your chin. Fred laughs watching you do this “thought you were Canadian” he teases.

“What a stupid stereotype. Toronto doesn’t even get that cold” you mumble knowing he is completely joking you just hate the assumptions people always make when they hear you’re Canadian. Fred leads you to the car, opening your door for you before heading to a nearby café to get some lunch before your doctor’s appointment.

“I’m so sleepy” you yawn resting your head on his shoulder in the waiting room. Another doctor was called away for a delivery, causing the others to try and squeeze his appointments in, creating a delay. Fred has an arm wrapped around you, you head resting on him while you close your eyes.

You feel your stomach grumble and sigh, Fred tried to get you to eat more but your stomach was still doing backflips at lunch. You managed to eat most of your soup, but couldn’t even consider ordering a sandwich. That was almost two hours ago and now you wish you brought a small one with you.

You feel Fred shift slightly beside you, but you keep your eyes closed “here” he says and you open your eyes. You see your purse on his lap, and he has 2 different types of granola bars, a container filled with crackers and your Contigo bottle in his hands. You sit up and stare at Fred who just shrugs at you “When you didn’t eat breakfast I thought you might get snacky. And a snacky (Y/N) leads to a hangry (Y/N). I didn’t like dealing with a hangry (Y/N) before you got pregnant, so I put these in here while you were showering.”

“Thanks” you laugh its crazy how well this man knows everything about you; knows what you’ll ask for before you even have the chance. You place a soft kiss on his cheek and grab one of the granola bars; Fred opens the other one and eats it as you return your head to his shoulder. About 20 minutes later you finally are called to the exam room.

“Hi I’m Dr. Morris sorry for the wait. Nice to meet you” she says walking in. “How are you feeling? Any nausea?”

Fred laughs lightly causing the doctor to shoot him a glace. “Yeah I’ve had some; it’s been kind of rough. It wasn’t this bad in my first pregnancy. I’ve also been really tired.”

“You’re general practitioner thinks your around 6-7 weeks?” she asks and you both nod. “That all can be normal in the first trimester. It typically subsides during the second trimester but I can write you a prescription for the nausea, you take it as needed at night. Let’s start with the ultrasound” she says handing you a prescription.

She moves to start the ultrasound, placing some cold jelly on your stomach, you jump slightly at the feeling. You forgot just how cool the jelly was. Fred laughs under his breath, sitting beside you grabbing your hand. She takes a second moving the wand around “so everything looks great.” She starts as she turns the screen to you “and here is your baby” pointing on the screen. “We might be able to hear the heartbeat right now.”

A few seconds later you hear the heartbeat fill the room. Fred’s grip tightens on your hands and he shifts closer to you “that’s amazing” you hear him whisper, eyes locked on the screen. She continues taking some pictures, moving the wand around on your stomach.

“Are you sure you are 7 weeks?” she asks.

“I saw my doctor last week for the referral and she dated me at around 6 weeks based off my last period” you explain. “She didn’t do an ultrasound though.”

“Well periods aren’t always accurate some women get their period for their entire pregnancy. Based off the sizing, I would put you closer to 12, maybe 13 weeks.”

“Well my last period was very light, more spotting than anything” you explain.

“That could have been implantation bleeding, very easy to mix up if it was light spotting. We’ll keep monitoring it and confirm it later, but I think you are closer to 12 weeks” she says smiling. You continue with your appointment and she provides you with some vitamins and other nutrients to add to your diet

“12 weeks eh?” Fred says sliding into the passenger seat with a grin on his face. “I thought this baby was conceived on your birthday, but that lines up more with my birthday.”

You smile and begin to remember that night:

You sit on the couch waiting for Fred to return. He went to tuck Oliver in 30 minutes ago and hasn’t returned. After training camp they started the season with a couple road games in Philly and Boston, so he was actually away for his birthday. It’s now October 8, and it’s his first night at home without a game since the season started.

The episode of the office you were watching ended and before the next one begins you pause it and get up walking down the hall to Oliver’s room, a large smile spreads across your face at the sight before you. You see Fred sitting in the chair in Oliver’s room legs resting on the built in foot rest, the chair reclined slightly. Oliver is snuggled into his arm a fleece blanket resting across both of them, he’s sleeping but Fred continues to reads him his story. Fred smiles when he sees you in the doorway “he wanted another story, how could I say no?” he asks.

You walk over and kiss Oliver’s forehead “you don’t” you say smiling. You place a hand on Fred’s chest and lean down placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“You gonna sleep in here?” you ask him softly pulling his ball cap off his head revealing his slightly messy red hair.

“Maybe, this chair is really comfortable” Fred says closing the book and handing it to you. You put it back on the shelf before heading to the door. “It’s a shame, I have one more present for you” you say suggestively.

“(Y/N) what present?” he asks, interest peaked. You turn your head and just wink at him and grin before walking away. You head to the bedroom and strip out of your clothes throwing them in your hamper leaving you in a bright red, deep plunge teddy. The neckline drops to one inch above your belly button, and the thin straps cross in the back. There is a floral lace pattern sewn onto the minimal fabric, minimal because the bottoms are crotchless and assless.

There are some thin straps that outline the shape of underwear, with a few criss-cross patterns, but otherwise you are completely exposed below the hips.

“Fucking hell” you hear as he gently closes the door. “This mine?” he asks his finger sliding down your spine and onto your ass.

“Mhm” you hum in response. “You can do whatever you want with it, keep it on, take it off” you trail off as you feel his hands cup your ass he sucks on your neck. “Whatever you want baby, today is your day” you finally finish.

“Whatever I want?” he hums sucking on your earlobe, he steps up to you his erection pressed into your back one hand massaging your breast the other playing with the straps on your pelvis.

He bites your collarbone causing you to gasp and tilt your neck “whatever you want babe” you moan out.

He pushes you a few steps forward, and you brace yourself on the dresser. His hand connects to your ass and you yelp slightly. Fred chuckles reaching around you to open a drawer and pulls out some lube, he uses his hands to separate your cheeks and squeezes some onto your ass.

You groan thinking of him taking your ass; you haven’t done it in a while. Fred senses your eagerness as you stick your ass out for him, he chuckles, spreading some of the lube around before sliding two fingers inside you.

“We can’t do that babe, can’t put a baby in you that way” he says thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“Freddie” you whine back at him, you didn’t realize how bad you wanted it until he put his fingers in your ass.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted, well I want to put a baby in you. On your birthday we can do whatever you want” he says slowly pumping his fingers in and out. His other hand comes around to your breast and begins to massage it.

“Fuck” you cry out, pressing your hips back. You bring a hand down to your sensitive bud; you’re practically dripping from anticipation. You start pressing hard circles into it as Fred pinches your nipple. You slowly slide two fingers inside your folds, moaning at the feeling.

“You like that babygirl?” he growls, still unaware of what your hand is doing.

“Fuck babe” you moan as your match Fred’s pace with your own hands. “Oh my god” you say loudly as your head falls back onto his chest. Fred removes his hand from your breast and slides it down your body. He approaches your core and stops when he feels your arm. “Babe, are you” he starts to ask but before he can finish he slides his hand down and feels your wrist confirming his suspicions.

He pulls his hands from your ass and quickly turns you around. Your fingers slide out of your folds as you grip the dresser. You stare into his eyes when he finally growls “bed now.”

You walk over and lie down; Fred sits on the bed beside you staring into your eyes. You roll on your side, sliding a hand to his thigh inching towards his bulge that is straining his pants when you feel a firm grip on your wrist.

“No, keep your hands to yourself” he whispers kissing your forehead. He gently pushes you onto your back and puts a pillow under your head; he grabs your dominant hand and slides it down to your folds coating it in your juices. His pupils dilate dark with hunger. He takes your hand and brings two fingers to your entrance and pushes them in your folds. He uses his hand to help set a pace before pulling his hand away.

“Just like that babe” he encourages, eyes locked on you as he quickly pulls his clothes off. You watch his hard cock slap against his stomach, precum dripping from it. You keep thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself; your eyes locked on his hard member wanting to put it in your mouth and taste him for the first time in 2 months.

He sits beside you again; his hard cock a few inches from your face, his tip is red and throbbing. Your mouth fills with saliva, you swallow remembering how he feels in your mouth. You want to wrap your lips around him when you hear Fred’s voice bringing you back to reality.

“That feel good?” he asks you his eyes staring at you while his hands lightly trace circles on your stomach.

“Not as good as you” you reply, still pumping your fingers in and out.

“Slide in another” he says. You nod and slip it in, moaning at the feeling. Fred brings a hand to your breast pulling the fabric to side, massaging it gently.

“I need you” you moan. “Need you to make me cum. Your fingers are magic, mine don’t work anymore” you groan picking up your pace. Fred chuckles and pinches your nipple; he stands up and walks to your bedside table pulling out your favourite toy.

He walks back over to you and grips your wrist, pulling your fingers out. He hands you the toy and sits back down waiting for you. You rub it along your drenched slit a few times; you turn it on and press it to your clit eliciting a loud moan. You set it to your normal setting and you slide it inside your walls, causing both of you to moan.

“I’m gonna fuck you later babygirl. But right now I want to watch your pretty face as you make yourself cum.”

You moan loudly as you feel your high approaching. Fred watches you slide the vibrator in and out, you can see his erection is now painfully hard from watching you. He brings a hand back up to your breast, massaging it; you can feel his erection pressed into your thigh as he shifts to be closer to watch.

“Yeah this is what I want,” he says peppering kisses on your inner thigh.

You are unable to respond as your first orgasm rips through you. Your other hand clamps down on Fred’s wrist for stability as you hold the vibrator deep inside you. Fred brings his hand from your breast down to grip the vibrator, taking over control from you.

“I definitely want to watch you have more of those” he says increasing the speed and changing the pattern.

“Fuck” you groan gripping the bed sheet tightly your back arching off the mattress “Freddie” you moan as your eyes shut not having any time to recover.

“Open your pretty eyes” he hums sucking on your neck. You reluctantly open your eyes, and see Fred’s brown ones staring back at you.

“Much better” he says bringing his lips to your chest placing soft kisses, the vibration increases its speed again and you feel your toys curl, your legs squirm as you feel your second orgasm approaching. Fred’s hand starts pressing circles into your clit and you squirm underneath him.

“Babe” you moan. “Babe I’m gonna” you try to say between pants eyes shutting again.

“I know skat, that’s the whole point” he jokes sucking beside your belly button. “I need you to open your eyes for me (Y/N).”

You feel his breathe close to your core, as you are a writhing mess under him.

“(Y/N)” he says nipping your thigh “eyes”. You hear him but you can’t open your eyes, your orgasm is right at the edge, the know so close to becoming undone. But before you can tumble over everything stops.

Your head snaps up and you open your eyes staring at Fred. He smiles at you standing up; he walks over to your shared closet. Your eyes are glued to his ass until he disappears in the closet. He comes back into view and your eyes fixate on his hard member and Fred just chuckles watching you.

Your eyes are locked on his hard dick, you lick your lips. You bring one hand forward gripping his hard member; you stroke it a few times feeling the precum leak onto your hand. You bring your hand up to your mouth, sucking it clean moaning at the taste of him.

“Fuck” Fred mumbles.

“I just wanted a little taste” you say as Fred brings your favourite blue silk tie into your eyesight. He runs the smooth fabric over your chin and wraps I around your eyes “since you want to keep your eyes closed” he hums tying it tightly around your face.

You feel Fred straddle you, resting on his knees. He tilts your chin and you open your mouth for him, unsure if he will actually let you taste him.

“Just a little taste” he replies putting his dick in your mouth. You practically choke on him, caught off guard since Fred hasn’t let you give him a blow job since you started trying to get pregnant. You taste his salty precum swirling your tongue around him causing both of you to moan. Fred pulls on your hair, tilting your head back more and he begins to rock his hips. You hollow your mouth allowing him more space as his pace picks up. You feel him hitting the back of your throat, spit dribbling down your chin while your hands reach around and grab his ass.

“Fuck I missed watching you take me in your mouth” he moans snapping his hips.

You give his ass a light squeeze and Fred responds by increasing his pace making you gag slightly. He keeps up his pace for a few more minutes, and you bring a hand up to massage his balls. You know that he doesn’t want to finish in your mouth but you have missed this feeling and are hungry for more. Your other hand caresses his ass giving him a tight squeeze, trying to hold him to you enjoying the feeling of him hitting your tonsils with each thrust.

Finally Fred pulls out completely; you feel his chapped lips come crashing into yours. “I said just a taste” he growls turning your vibrator back on “I’m still trying to put a baby in you.”

A loud groan leaves your lips while you rock your hips trying to bring your orgasm back. Fred turns up the setting, finding the pace from earlier but he doesn’t stop there. He turns it to the highest setting, curse words leave your lips as the tingling in your core begins again.

You feel Fred’s lips placing soft kisses on your pubic bone, your hands finding his hair. You run your hands through his hair while your hips rise. Your breaths become short and sporadic, loud moans leave your lips. Just before your second orgasm approaches again everything stops and Fred pulls the toy from you, you hear it hit the floor.

Before you can react, you feel Fred’s beard rub against your thigh while he throws your legs over his shoulders. You feel his warm breath blow onto your pussy; it feels like he stares at you for hours slowly exhaling on you. Finally you feel his tongue stroke the bottom of your clit, placing a soft kiss before pulling away; again you feel the soft gentle touch for a brief second which is replaced by his warm breath. Finally he flattens his tongue licking a stripe up your folds, sending a shiver down your spine. You grip his hair and his tongue slips inside your walls.

“Freddie” you groan legs squirming. Fred throws his arm over your hips pinning you to the bed while his tongue continues to slide in and out of you, his thumb comes to press circles into your sensitive bud. “Babe” you groan encouraging Fred while he continues to fuck you with his tongue.  

Your whole body feels like it is on fire, your legs tighten around his head and just before you can tumble over the edge he slows his tongue pulling his thumb away. He places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh while you groan in displeasure. Your clit is red and swollen waiting for a release.

You hear Fred chuckle, his beard grazing your inner thigh while he brings his lips to your sensitive bud and sucks harshly on you. His tongue flattens against your pussy and he slowly drags it up, he flicks his tongue against your clit and you throw your head back into the pillow with a low guttural moan escaping your throat.

“Babe” you groan “stop teasing me.”

“You said I can do whatever I want, I just happen to want to tease you” he says placing his mouth back on you and sucking hard. His thumb slips down and pressing circles into your bud, his tongue slipping inside your folds.

“Fuck” you cry out.

You desperately need to cum while his tongue slides in and out of you. He brings two finger up and scissors you open, sliding his tongue in further.

“You’re unbelievable skat” he mumbles curling his fingers and setting a pace inside you.

His mouth returns to your clit sucking on you while his fingers pump in and out of you. You feel a burning between your legs, beard rash likely developing from the time he has spent there. Your head falls back into the pillow while you moan loudly, surely keeping the neighbours awake. You feel your orgasm return, your legs clench around his head your heels digging into his back.

“Babe please” you whimper as he pulls his fingers from you leaving you on the edge once again.

He slides them further down you to your hole. He slowly slides two fingers in and out of your ass, sucking on your clit. Your fingers scratch his scalp and your toes curl while he pumps his fingers slowly inside of you. He keeps this slow pace up, gently sucking on you to keep you on edge but not enough to send you over.

His tongue slides inside your walls, his fingers increase their pace. Your orgasm starts building again while your legs tighten around his head. You are sure you are cutting off his oxygen but Fred doesn’t stop. Your legs are practically shaking from the need to cum.

“Fred, I’m so close” you groan between pants while he continues to pump his fingers in you. Your orgasm continues to build when you feel Fred pull his mouth away from you once more.

“Frederik” you huff in displeasure.

You hear Fred chuckle as he slips his fingers out of your ass, dropping your legs from his shoulders. You feel the bed dip beside you, while he crawls up your body gently drawing his finger up your stomach in the process. You feel his mouth attach to your breast sucking on your nipple, his hard cock poking your entrance. He slides it over your folds, coating it in your juices before thrusting it into you bringing your orgasm right back.

He pulls out and slams back into you, your hands reaching his back scratching him, your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. Your nails gently rake up his muscular back as he slams into you another time which sends you over the edge. Your orgasm rips through you, as Fred continues to thrusts into you.

You don’t know if it’s your lack of sight or the hours of edging but this is the most intense orgasm you have had. You pulsate around his dick as he keeps thrusting inside you; it’s a slow pace but every time he bottoms out hitting your cervix. Your nails dig deep crescents in his back, trying to ground yourself, your whole body shakes.

Fred’s hand grips the back of your thigh, a slew of curse words leaving your mouth. If your eyes weren’t tied shut they would roll into the back of your head. As your orgasm finally stops so does Fred, he gently lifts your head and unties the tie from your face. You finally see the man above you resting on his forearms. His eyes are dark with hunger, forehead covered in sweat beard glistening in your juices and he has a huge smile while he looks down at you.

His hands run through your hair, and then his lips are on yours bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. Your hands slide down his body nails gently scratching him through the kiss. Fred gently runs his hands through your hair waiting for you to fully return from your high. You feel your juices sliding down your legs onto the bed below you; it’s a complete mess between you.

“Fuck babe” you moan. Your breathing slowly returning to normal while Fred peppers soft kisses on your collarbone and neck.

Fred resumes thrusting into you, your back arches while you bring your nails up to his neck, running them through his hair. You feel his chain and use it to pull his face down to yours locking him in a passionate kiss. It’s wet and sloppy; you’re both hungry for the other. You pull apart when you feel his thumb pressing into your clit; you throw your head back into the pillow.

“I love you so much” he mumbles against your neck, rocking his hips into you. He hooks his arm under your knee, pressing it into your chest. You feel your orgasm approaching, your hand still tangled in his chain while your other scrapes down his broad shoulder.

A slew of curse words and your skin slapping fill the room, the sounds you are making are filthier than a porno. You know the neighbours will be complaining about the noise later but you don’t care. Fred pulls your leg straight and places it on his shoulder, allowing him to hit you deeper.

The pace isn’t fast, but it also isn’t slow, every thrust is deep and he hits your g-spot each time. Every time he pulls out he drags himself along your walls.

“Babe” you moan while Fred sucks on your neck.

“Wait for me smuk” he growls in your ear.

“Babe” you whine feeling your orgasm right at the edge. The teasing from before has you feeling extremely sensitive, and you aren’t sure how much longer you can wait.

You feel Fred begin to get sloppy as he presses your leg further into your chest. His hips stutter, you pull his chain tighter bringing his lips to yours. His kiss swallows your moan, your hair a mess draped in front of your eyes. As he pulls away he sucks your bottom lip, you whimper under him unsure if you can go any longer.

He continues fucking into you, deep hard thrusts. You take deep breaths trying to wait for him, you know his high is getting close, but you just can’t wait any longer. Your pussy flutters around him, Fred groans while you clench, coating him in your cum. Swear words spill from your lips, your hands grip his chain so tight you practically choke him.

You draw out Fred’s high, his hips stutter and he fills you with his warmth. He pumps into you a few more times, shooting deep inside you before finally stilling. You feel both your juices dripping down your pussy while Fred drops his sweaty body on you.

“You know you swore in Danish” he says finally breaking the silence lifting himself to his forearms.

“What?” you ask looking up at him.

“When you came, you were swearing in Danish. Super hot babe” he mumbles kissing your neck.

Your attention is brought back when Fred brings a kiss to the back of your hand at a stoplight. You look at him and he shoots you a boyish smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks sitting at a red light, the music is so soft you can hear the turn signal.

You smirk and reply “just remembering your birthday.”

“Yeah that was a great night” he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Play your cards right and we can relive it tonight Mr. Andersen.” He laughs before turning his attention to the road, silence once again filling the car.

“What are you thinking about babe?” you ask.

“Telling Ollie, how do you think he will react?”

You both agreed to wait until you were 13 weeks to tell Oliver. You don’t want anyone knowing until you are out of the first trimester and he doesn’t have the best track record for keeping secrets. An hour after making handprint snowman Christmas ornaments he told Charlotte all about it over facetime. You thought you had a bit more time to figure out what to say.

“I don’t know, I think it will hit him more when the baby comes, or at least when I am showing more. I don’t know how much he will understand at 2 without actually being able to see something” you reply looking out the window. Because of the late appointment you are now in some after work traffic on your drive home. You use the time to go on google, trying to find some suggestions for approaching this with a two year old.

When you walk into your apartment Oliver comes running to greet both of you.

“Mommy, daddy!” he squeals “I drew you this picture.” He has the biggest smile as he hands you a piece of paper, you see 3 crayon shapes of varying sizes that represent the three of you. You are all holding hands; Fred’s head is abnormally large. But he got all your hair colours right and even tried to draw Fred with his hockey jersey.

“Wow this is awesome buddy” Fred says picking him up “let’s put it on the fridge.”

You hang your coat up and remove your shoes, pulling your ultrasound picture from your purse. You sit on the couch and wait for Oliver and Fred to return. They sit beside you and you kiss Oliver’s head as Fred settles in beside you.

“So we have something to tell you Ollie” you say looking at him.

“What mommy?” he asks looking at you.

He smiles at you, his golden brown eyes looking up at you.

“Well” Fred starts trailing off for a second “you’re going to be a brother.”

“A brother?” he asks turning his head to look at Fred.

You show him the ultrasound, and point to it “this baby, is in mommies belly.”

You both allow him a second to process the news; you can see the gears in his head spinning as he tries to make sense of it.

“The baby is in your belly?” he finally asks.

“Yeah bud, the baby is going to grow in here for a little bit” Fred says touching your stomach “and once it’s big enough you get to meet it.”

“How long?”

“Still a little while, like 6 months”

You all sit there in silence for a couple minutes, waiting to see if Oliver has any questions. Fred brushes his red curls from his eyes, he needs a haircut but you both love how his hair develops tight curls as it gets longer and don’t want to cut them off.

“You have any questions?” you ask softly after a few minutes.

“How did the baby get in your belly?” he asks putting a hand on top of Fred’s.

“Well…” you trail off; you were kind of expecting this question and are thankful you went to google beforehand. Most websites suggest you keep the answers simple and allow him to ask more questions if he has then.

“When a mommy and a daddy love each other a lot they can make a baby if they want” you put your hand on his holding your three hands to your stomach.

“You still going to love me when the new baby comes?” he whispers.

You and Fred chuckle while Fred pulls him tighter to his chest “we will never stop loving you, no matter what” Fred replies.

“You are the most amazing boy, and we love you so much. Nothing will change that ever. We are so lucky to be your parents” you snuggle up into Fred’s arm, pulling Oliver tight into you.

“Why can’t I meet the baby now?” he asks.

“Because the baby needs to grow and be big and strong. So mommy is going to keep it in there until it’s ready to come out” Fred replies.

“Is it a boy like me?” he asks.

“The doctors need the baby to grow a bit more before they can tell. So right now they don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl” you respond kissing his cheek.

“I want a brother” he says sliding off Fred’s lap and walking over to his toy blocks on the floor, seemingly satisfied with the conversation.

“For the record I’m team boy too, only because you will let our daughter walk all over you” you say smiling at Fred.

“I can’t even argue, that’s 100% true. But I do love the idea of a miniature you walking around” he says with a large smile on his, stroking your stomach while you watch Oliver play with his toys.

Next Chapter

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I would adore more of the modern AU Vipurr where they are both working at The Chesire Cat and still trying to figure things out, if you were feeling so inclined. Misc prompt #65 "I don't want you to stop."

Modern AU. Cheshire Cat Verse. Gaetan helps Letho begin to navigate a new way of thinking...

CW: Letho was raised as a conservative, cisgender, straight man and never had exposure to the LGBTQA+ community. He might come across as ignorant, but he’s trying.

The Cheshire Cat: Part 1

“And what does this one mean?” Letho pointed at a flag with colours descending from orange to mauve.

“That’s the lesbian pride flag,” Gaetan swiped onto the next; a purple circle on a yellow background. “This is intersex.”

“And that’s, uh—,” his brow creased as he mustered the new vocabulary from the back of his mind; words he’d never used before or had any real need to. “—people whose bodies don’t align with the gender binary of male and female. Like, both sets of junk, or various combinations of chromosomes. And that’s different from genderfluid because—.” He trailed off, his jaw clenched in irritation. 

“Genderfluid shifts between male, female or somewhere else on the spectrum,” Gaetan placed his phone down on the chipped coffee table. “You don’t have to get so stressed over this stuff you know.”

“I don’t want to piss your friends off,” Letho picked at the styrofoam cup clutched in one big hand. “I heard that some people get really upset if you get it wrong, and I don’t want them to think I’m an idiot.”

“Anyone that chews you out for making an honest mistake is a gatekeeping asshole. There isn’t some… exam you take to be a member of the queer community. You don’t have to prove yourself, Letho.”

Letho hummed, but he didn’t look convinced. Over the last two months he’d really, really enjoyed being with Gaetan. All they’d done was kiss and hold each other, with a little bit of grinding over the clothes; Letho couldn’t quite believe someone found him genuinely attractive and wanted to be in his lap all the time, so he just got carried long with it all. 

Oh, and he was so outrageously in love with Gaetan it actually scared him.

His smile, his laugh, his brutal and rather macabre sense of humour; they both had a love of horror films and craft beer. And they could sit together for hours without saying a single word, happy to bask in each other’s company and touch.

There were just so many things. It was as if some greater power had looked into Letho’s head and used their findings to construct the perfect partner. But Gaetan was also everything Letho wasn’t. Confident, energetic, good looking… and extrovert. On their third date, Gaetan had shown Letho his OnlyFans. None of the content—it was up to Letho whether he wanted to look—but Gaetan felt it was important he knew about it.

Letho looked. He looked a lot. It wasn’t just a bunch of shoddy, poorly posed photographs. It was Gaetan on a pole; Gaetan in lingerie, pleasuring himself with an array of toys. There were some old boyfriends on there too and watching Gaetan with them felt… illicit. Het’ porn held absolutely zero draw for him after watching Gaetan fall to pieces on camera on a cock that wasn’t even that big. Letho's mind wandered pretty easily to the imagery of Gaetan on his. But what if it scared him off? There was such a thing as too big, right? He'd had a few women say that to him.

Pfft. It was perfect as it was. They didn't need to fuck if Gaetan didn't want to. Everything was so good. 

The snagging point came when they went out with Gaetan’s friends. They used words that Letho didn’t understand, or he did but he didn’t quite comprehend the weight or the nuance behind them. A couple of times he’d opened his mouth and felt judged for his ignorance, so now he mostly stayed silent or offered to go and buy the drinks or just nodded along with the conversation with the odd affirmative grunt. Came off as stupid and boring, probably. 

Gaetan had noticed. After a little bit of gentle prodding, he’d eventually wheedled out the issue. Letho didn’t feel like he belonged; felt like a pariah, an intruder. Gaetan had managed to convince him that it was a voyage discovery. No one popped out of the womb knowing exactly what or who they were. It just so happened that it’d taken Letho a little longer to begin having a poke around his own sexuality than some; the realms of gender identity and rainbow sexuality were all brand new, exciting and a little bit intimidating. 

Letho stared at the phone with its flags still on the screen. “Do I have to pick one?”

“No, you don’t. Would you feel better if you had one?”

“Uh…” Letho scratched his jaw. Gaetan had made him promise to ask all questions in his head; no question was stupid. “Can I… does it matter if I change it?”

“You can change it as many times as you like. You’re still figuring yourself out. The point is… it’s not about taking yourself out of society’s boxing system only to fall right back into another one.”

“Hmm,” Letho nodded, but remained unconvinced. The boxes were about belonging, right? That’s why people made pin badges and scarves and fought so hard for people to identify them in the right way. Identity and knowing how you fit into the world was important. It just got a bit hairy when others got it wrong, and then you had to navigate dealing with that and Letho was just fucking terrified of doing or saying something so wrong by accident that Gaetan decided that maybe he wasn’t worth it... 

They had about five minutes left of their break; Gaetan slipped across the sofa and curled into Letho’s lap. They spent those precious few moments with their lips locked together and Letho’s apprehension melted away. Maybe he didn't need a flag and maybe he wasn't completely clued in on all the different meanings, but he'd continue to try. Gaetan pulled away, tugging gently on his lower lip with a forlorn sigh. "I'll see you tonight.”

They had fallen quickly into the habit of spending Sunday nights together. With the exception of bank holidays, the club was always closed on a Monday, which meant a lie in and a lazy day at Gaetan’s apartment. Letho’s was a complete dump. His army pension didn’t cover much in terms of comfort—it barely covered the necessities, hence the security work—so his flat was empty but for a few pieces of Ikea furniture, a handful of gnarled paperbacks, a stereo and a television set. 

In contrast, Gaetan’s place was full of character. He had an entire wall full of books that Letho was slowly working his way through—he hadn’t needed to visit the library since they started dating—a huge, plush couch, house plants. Oh, and Gaetan could cook. Really well. It was the first time in Letho’s life that he hadn’t subsisted on plain chicken, overcooked rice and wilted spinach or army rations. 

As their shift ended, Gaetan headed home to sort dinner and Letho hit the gym for his usual Sunday full body workout. The smell of chicken teriyaki and a new foreign zombie film—Alive—on Netflix awaited him when he finally flopped, freshly showered, onto the sofa in lounge pants and a loose t-shirt. “Rage zombies.” Letho murmured between mouthfuls of long grain rice. “I like the fact that they mutate on the spot.”

“Gives the survivors a chance to run—different rates of change though,” Gaetan cleared his bowl quickly and knocked back several mouthfuls of white wine.

“Ahh, he’s fucked, doesn’t have enough supplies. Rookie error,” Letho shook his head.

“Oh, you're fully stocked at home are you? When was the last time you went shopping?”

“First sign of a zombie apocalypse, I’d come right here. Need someone strong and intelligent to protect me.”

Gaetan grinned. “I’m flattered.”

“Uh huh.”

Plates cleaned, bottle of wine significantly depleted, protagonist in serious shit; the night progressed as it usually did. Gaetan sidled up close and Letho wrapped an arm around him, stroking the back of his neck, the stubbled crown of his head. Except tonight the kisses were hungrier; open-mouthed, with teeth. They worked over Letho’s jaw and down his neck as a warm hand slid over his chest, nipples hard through the soft cotton. And that wasn’t the only thing. Letho swallowed and turned his eyes away from the movie.

Gaetan paused. “This okay?”

“Yeah.”

It was more than okay. It was everything Letho wanted and more. His lithe boyfriend wriggled and hummed in appreciation as he burrowed through Letho’s clothes; shirt chucked on the floor, lounge pants kicked down until they reached Letho’s knees. When Gaetan first got to see the full extent of what he had to play with, he gasped in quiet awe, fingers kneading into the couch either side of Letho’s hips. Eager lips tasted their way down his chest, sucking possessive red marks on the curve of a pec, the dips of his abdomen. Gaetan followed the pattern of his tattoos—the scales, the glyphs—exploring, tasting new skin that he’d only stroked gently through the fabric of his shirt. Letho managed to get Gaetan down to his boxers before he shimmied out of reach, tongue licking a long, slow line over his cock. Letho grunted, stomach and thighs bunching, and Gaetan lifted his face away. “You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Letho murmured, one big arm tucked behind his head so he could look down the slope of his chest into Gaetan’s pretty green eyes. “Don’t stop?” It was a question. Just shy of a plea. 

Gaetan grinned broadly, one gentle hand circling on Letho’s thigh, before those cheeky lips wrapped around the weeping head of Letho’s cock and began to work. He soon had his lover breathless, one of those huge hands cupping the back of his neck more for purchase on reality than insistence. Even with creative use of his throat, Gaetan only managed just over half. His lips stretched, his teeth grazing down the sides; so, instead, he pulled off and lavished Letho with sucking kisses. Up his shaft, over his thighs and balls. He seemed to prefer it. Probably no longer worried about hurting Gaetan or something equally as Letho. 

As his pleasure swelled Letho’s body relaxed and Gaetan heard him moan for the first time, deep and guttural, part growl even. Gaetan dropped a hand beneath his own hips and decided tonight he was going to see just how noisy his Viper could be.

[chaoslaura]

Angst 35 for willex

Angst 35: “ I loved you. I loved you so, so much, but you hurt me.” 

You really went to my messages and said ‘here I’ll give you a challenge’. Because this fic was the hardest for me to write yet. I needed days just to come up with an idea. I asked some people and they all had amazing ideas (special thanks to @chanihobbit) and then I settled on this. Ngl I made myself sad writing this and it has the most unhappy happy ending.

But here it is. Some warnings for Underage Drinking (for americans).

Read it on AO3

Alex and Willie didn’t meet long ago when Alex was taking a stroll along the beach promenade with an iced coffee in hand, clearing his head after an unpleasant morning in the Mercer household that would’ve left him screaming if he didn’t walk out the door.

Watching the people around him go on their own missions, alone or an arm hooked in someone else’s. They all had their reason to be out here today just like him and it calmed him to know he wasn’t the only one to walk this path right next to the sand with his own thoughts and story.

Unbeknownst to him a skater was not too far behind him, taking up tempo and enjoying the wind caressing his face, his long hair flying wild around his face.

For a short moment he couldn’t see anything as the hair blocked the view in front of his eyes and then he crashed into something with his whole body, or rather someone he learned quickly when that someone groaned under him with pain and then more with indignation for being run over.

Alex experienced a gay panic moment how Julie had said it when Alex retold the story to the band later that day at practice, unable to keep what happened to himself. Not when he met the most good-looking guy on earth, “Honestly, you guys won’t know what I mean if you don’t see it yourselves. He could be a model for all I know.”

It was a start for a friendship and months later, only after the band pushed him and gave him an hour-long pep talk, did Alex got the courage to confess his feelings. As it turned out did Willie feel the same, since the beginning, but he didn’t want to force himself on Alex, taking it slowly in fear or scaring Alex off.

It was easy with them all going to the same school and sharing their free time, all not living too far away from each other. The band and Willie got closer as well and not just Alex got a liking to Willie. He was around much more often as he didn’t really have a friend group before, joining for band practice and cheering them on.

Afterwards he and Alex would go for a walk with Willie’s skateboard and just talk, gazing at the sunset before Alex had to go home and they met again the next day with a peck on the lips and a sweet smile etched on their faces.

Willie was often alone in his too big home, with his parents gone almost all day long and no one else around to keep him company. He often invited Alex over to not let the loneliness consume him as it did sometimes the years before. They would cook together and watch movies, Alex would tease him for his bad taste in action movies and Willie would sit through every romantic romcom Alex showed him just to see a smile on his face he could gaze at from the side when Alex was too enraptured to notice him looking.

The remaining time they would lie side by side on his bed as soft music was playing in the background, staring at the ceiling and talk. Like they did on their walks and their dates on the beach and various museums. They were good with talking, able to tell each other everything without fearing rejection they so often had to undergo with their families.

Willie confided in Alex about his family and his fears, not knowing what to do after school, wanting to be free and just see where the world takes him, maybe going more into arts or staying in the music industry.

He had started a job at a record company not long before he met Alex and it was nice. He got the money to buy more art supplies to paint his boards, he could buy Alex little presents, it was good, but he wasn’t sure yet and Alex assured him he would follow along with whatever Willie decided for his future.

They may not be same character wise, but Alex friends couldn’t deny how good Willie was for Alex, calming him in ways the other needed years for, they just got each other without needing too much words, reading their emotions from their demeanour, how they would eat their breakfast or simply which shirt they wore that day. It was almost their own language, not the same Alex had with the band.  

On one of their many band sleepovers they talked about the future and Julie said she definitely wanted a wedding someday with Ray walking her down the aisle and she was sure she would cry because her mum couldn’t be there for her big moment but all of them would be invited so she had enough of her favourite people around her to feel whole.

Then Reggie had said Alex could marry Willie someday and Alex could just blush and sputter, because this was ridiculous, right? Right? They were all 18 now on their last school year with the future in their hands but he hadn’t thought about that kind of events in their lives yet. Willie and he had been together for 2 years now and everything had been slow with them, just how they had wanted it, it was them. But it did sound nice, he couldn’t deny.

He could say with confidence that the thing he had with Willie was serious and they talked about moving in together as soon as they had the money for it after school, escaping their homes and building lives of their own. With each other. Together they were stronger and needed each other the same as Alex needed the band.

They were so close to graduation and the band was successful, gaining attraction and gigs and they were so close to getting a breakthrough, they worked so hard it was tangible, just a bit more and they had reached their goal. They were working day and night, Luke keeping writing all the time, his head overflowing with ideas and inspiration, Bobby and Reggie helping him with chord progressions and harmonies, Julie giving input in lyrics and the flowing of words, and Alex was there to keep them together with his steady beat.

But then came the crash. Bobby was gone. Nobody knew what happened, there was no fight, no sign, no hint, he was just gone. From one day to the other. They came into the studio and his guitar was gone along with all his suspenders and laces for his boots. The loft without his changing of clothes, no toothbrush in the little bath when he was too lazy to trot up the path into the house after a sleepover.

When they asked Bobby’s grandparents living in the house next to their studio, they said Bobby moved to live with his father on the other side of the city, had planned it for months now.

Needing a day to let it sink in what they learned they weren’t wiser than before. Why wouldn’t he say anything to them? He couldn’t just go, leave the band and not say a word. Their last exams were over so they wouldn’t catch him at school and apparently Bobby didn’t want them to know where his father lived so with sadness in their eyes his grandparents didn’t tell.

Bobby didn’t answer his phone, might have changed his number and it was all so confusing. They were a guitarist short so close to their big gig and it was frustrating. The offers they hoped for never came, they hadn’t been good enough without Bobby, they were on square one again.

It took them a few months to get over the initial hurt but the aching in their hearts stayed. Bobby wasn’t only a bandmate of them, he had been a friend, a very good friend to all of them. Offering advice and a shoulder to cry on, participating in Reggie’s and Luke’s pranks and dumb midnight ideas when neither could sleep, easing Alex when he was anxious before a presentation, talking with Julie about missing their mums, having experienced the same, and when Willie walked into the picture he put a hand on his shoulder and welcomed him into their friend circle without batting an eye.

So for him just vanishing into thin air like a ghost, was so unlike him.

But eventually they had to move on without him. They took gigs even though their sound wasn’t the same without Bobby, searching for a new guitarist so they could take up their plan again and gain success even though they started 10 steps behind.

Band circles and friendly meet ups were weird at first but the whole period after finishing school was weird, having to find their footing in a new world.

Moving in as a band had been without a question after that whole thing brought them even closer together. Even though it had been Alex and Willie’s plan first they had to postpone. So they huddled together in a too small apartment for the four of them, working whatever job they could get to get the money for rent together, scraping by every month just like that.

Willie was still with his parents. Saving up for an apartment just for him and Alex, they had talked about it. They desperately needed more privacy just for them. Reggie crashing their movie dates, Luke sitting in the kitchen with them when they cooked together, Julie staying for their talk session, it could get frustrating when they needed some alone time.

Willie had been over last night for movie night and stayed afterwards like almost every night now as his relationship with his parents had gone down the drain. The space was scarce, but they managed, cuddling closer with their noses touching when they faced each other, stealing kisses every now and then until they drifted off to sleep, waking up as a tangled mess, the blanket wrapped around them.

The others would groan when they sat together at the breakfast table, talking sweet nothings in each other’s ears and giggling like they had only gotten together last week and not act like and old married couple the rest of the day.

All band members had work to do and left Willie on his own for the day, envious of his day off, while he was relishing in having the flat for his own to do whatever he wanted.

When Alex had finally gotten home slightly exhausted from talking to customers all day long, he was ready to fall into his bed and take a nap with Willie until Luke came home and started complaining about his day while sitting on Alex bed, ignoring the couple cuddling under the blanket and giving him annoyed stares. Luke wouldn’t leave until he was done, so much they had learned.

But when Alex entered with groceries in one arm, he heard Willie talking quietly, his voice subdued from the ajar door. Walking light footed into the kitchen to not startle or interrupt Willie’s call, he put the bag on the counter and started unpacking. From the kitchen he could see a small strip of his room and from time to time Willie when he walked by that space.

It must’ve been a heated call, Alex could see Willie talking animatedly, flaring with his harms while he whipped his hair around in annoyance. Alex was ready to give Willie more time to finish the call before he walked in to say hello and draw attention to him but then he heard something that made his blood freeze up, stilling in his movements, egg carton holding halfway in the air.

“Yes, I know, but – No, I said to you – Would you let me speak please? – Caleb hear me out, no you don’t – Caleb! I said I don’t want to have anything to do with Bobby – Ugh Trevor whatever I don’t care abo – oh my god could you just let me handle someone different, I told you back then I would never work with him and you promised me.”

Suddenly there was a noise behind him, and Willie stopped his walking to whip around and spot Alex in the doorway. Alex could still hear someone talking through the phone, the voice so loud the conversation could have only been an argument.

“Alex?” Willie asked with wide eyes, not having heard his boyfriend coming home and realizing his conversation could be heard through the door but knowing he had been caught in the act. “Caleb, I’ll call back.” Without waiting for an answer Willie hang up and let his hand with the phone in it fall down along with his shoulders, he looked almost defeated. “Can I – “

“Bobby, huh?” Alex interrupted his boyfriend. “I could assume it’s a different one, but your reaction says something different.”

Willie nodded slowly and crossed his arms in front of his body, going into his usual stance when upset, rubbing over his scar he got when he was young. Brushing the skin there whenever he needed comfort but couldn’t get in the moment, using the rhythmic motion as a mean to hold him grounded.

Looking up again to look into Alex eyes that conveyed only hurt he felt sick right away. It was never his intention to inflict any harm. But taking in Alex expression, it may be too late, and he had to live with the fact he himself did that to his boyfriend. “Alex, I – Can I please explain?”

“I’m not sure if I want to hear it if I’m being honest.” Alex voice was unusual cold towards Willie. They were always gentle to each other and this was a stark contrast, giving Willie whiplash from the sweet morning they had behind them.

Willie had hoped he could at least clear up the situation, he had to, make Alex understand. “We promised each other to hear the other out.”

Letting out a short dark chuckle Alex eyes pierced him down while he stayed in the doorway, kind of leaning against the wood but looking more tense than he let on. “Yeah, but we also promised each other to never hold any secrets and be honest with the other.”

It was silent for a moment, the words sinking in, Willie knew he was deep in shit, no way of talking himself out of it, his only chance to diminish the damage he had done.

Waving a hand in Willie’s direction Alex continued, “But okay, say what you want to say.”

Willie was more than relieved to get a chance to explain, taking a step closer to Alex, needing his presence near him but Alex held a hand out, making him halt. “No, you stay there. You stay there and start to explain. I stay here and listen and when you’re finished I – we’ll see.”

Swallowing once to get past the lump in his throat that dread had placed there, Willie searched for the right words. They had to be good otherwise Alex would never understand why he did what he did and why it all happened.

Clearing his throat, he started. “Okay, so, if you want to know everything, we have to go back a bit. Almost to the beginning of our relationship.” Oh how much Willie hoped this relationship would stay intact once he was done talking.

“You introduced me to your friends, and we all hit it off fairly well. I liked them and they all took me in not just as your boyfriend but as a friend as well and you guys started to invite me to your things. Whenever your friend group did something I was going now too and I had so much fun, really, you have amazing friends Alex.”

Daring to look into Alex face he could see him nod in understanding, but still waiting for the rest of the story so Willie goes on.

“It was on one of the parties we’ve gone to, honestly I can’t remember which on or what day it was.” Willie digressed, trying to waste time to gain more to find the right words, but he could tell Alex was growing impatient.

“Okay yeah doesn’t matter, anyway, I was in the kitchen and Bobby came in, he was wasted out of his mind and I got him some water and kept him in the kitchen so I could watch over him, but you know Bobby, when he’s drunk he eats your ear off and he started talking so much, first about nothing important but then he started to tell me about his family and how he missed his dad. I didn’t even know he was alive but I just nodded and hoped Bobby wouldn’t regret telling me anything in the morning.”

At the mention of Bobby, Alex eyes grew gloomy again, the aching in all their hearts still present, the way it never fully heals when a friendship brakes off, no matter how long it had been.

“But he didn’t stop with his dad. He told me how he hated seeing his grandparents growing old and how he had to move away anyways at some point when his grandparents couldn’t care for him anymore. Then he drifted to the band, talked about you guys. You have to know he really loved you, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. He told me with such sincerity it was hard to listen to. But I guess for him this love had started suffocating him.”

Willie could hear Alex taking a deep breath from his place where he stood. It must be hard to hear all this at once.

“His words not mine, and he didn’t feel enough around you. He emphasised all your talents and I tried to get him to understand that he had that talent too, that he was in your band for a reason, but he just shook his head.”

While he talked Alex seemed to get sadder and sadder, for the first time hearing about Bobby’s inner turmoil, not once having said something to his friends at that time and that made Alex feel guilty, because what had he done to not gain Bobby’s trust, that he didn’t think he could confide in him or the others.

“What he said next made me worry first. He said he thought about quitting the band, more than once, quitting and going solo. Maybe it was because he felt he wasn’t good enough for you and would only drag you down or some other reason, he wasn’t clear. At this point I decided to bring him home because he was truly wasted and off his mind.”

“I brought him home and the next day he called me saying he wanted to talk. We met and he apologized for last night, apparently he remembered talking my ear off and was embarrassed cause he couldn’t remember what exactly he said. I repeated some of his words and he I swear to god he started crying. And after that we just kind of met up once in a while, just the two of us, talking about things and Bobby started talking about quitting again and I couldn’t steer him away from that, he wasn’t -”

“Okay, wait.” Alex interrupted him midsentence with a bewildered expression on his face, almost angered when it wasn’t for a few stray tears on his cheek, slowly making their way down. “He wanted to quit, and you didn’t tell me anything? So I could talk to him and make sure he knows how much we appreciate him?”

“Alex.” Willie said the name with sorrow, knowing it was too late now anyways to change anything about the past. “I wanted to; I really do. But Bobby made me promise not to tell anyone and I didn’t want to break his trust, he was my friend too, you know that.”

Alex sighed deeply but Willie knew that he understood that part as hard as it was.

When Alex didn’t say anything else, Willie picked up his story.

“We also talked about our future after school, like we all did, because it was scary, and I told him more about my job with Caleb and he was so interested from the first moment I should’ve known. It was pure coincidence that he met Caleb, I introduced Bobby and apparently they wrote with each other I learned at some point when I saw a mail from Bobby on Caleb’s computer. I asked Caleb about it, and he told me Bobby was interested in a contract with the company.”

“The first thing I did after that was walk to Bobby’s and confront him with it and we argued a bit and I thought that was it. Afterwards he didn’t talk about it ever again and Caleb didn’t mention it either. I really thought that was the end to it and your gig at The Orpheum was coming up and Bobby seemed normal, practicing with you and I wasn’t worried in the slightest.”

Willie’s voice grew a bit faster and louder to the end, his eyebrows furrowed. He had been so sure everything was going back to normal, but he had failed them all, foremost Alex in not confiding in him.

Alex knew as well as him what was coming now, at this part they were all on the same page. Willie now spoke with a small voice, waving his hands defeated in the air.

“So, you know, Bobby left and as soon as you told me I searched around at work and I actually found the contract, but I didn’t meet or saw Bobby, I swear. The last time I saw him was the same for all of us at the ice cream parlour.”

Alex took some measured steps, halting a mere few inches in front of him but Willie hesitated to reach out, being sure that Alex was still mad at him. “But why didn’t you say anything to us afterwards. You knew what Bobby was up to.”

“I thought-“ Willie’s throat was swelling up again as his eyes welled up, the hurt in Alex voice made him tear up and choke on his words.

“I thought now it didn’t matter anyways. He was gone and it wouldn’t help you feel any better when you knew he was building a career on his own and got a contract before you guys could score one even though you worked so hard for it for years. Besides that, I felt so guilty. If I knew sooner what Bobby had planned, that he would go through with it I would’ve tried to stop him or even tell you, but I didn’t. I could’ve stopped him, but I wasn’t able to and I thought you would be so disappointed with me or even angry because it’s my fault you lost a friend.”

Finally looking up at Alex when his tears started falling down his face, he didn’t make a move to stop them, now it was all out anyway. Now he had to wait for Alex to say anything, to judge him, weigh his words and then sentence him. Hopefully Alex wouldn’t be too harsh, even though Willie knew what he had done was equal to betrayal, the number one rule to not be violated in a relationship next to trust.

Alex dragged his hands over his face and then through his hair, biting on his lip before speaking up. His expression was unreadable due to the many emotions alternately playing over his face.

“I’m sorry Willie. I loved you. I loved you so, so much, but you hurt me.” 

The use of past tense hit Willie hard. Alex could’ve slapped him in the face, and it would’ve hurt the same. It was hard to breathe after hearing it.

“I’m sorry, but I need some time. Just- give me some days.” He added and walked away from him back into the kitchen while Willie’s tears fell freely from his face and it needed every will from him not to stretch out a hand to prevent Alex from walking away from him, without a glance back.

He sniffled some more, not even trying to stop his tears, as he rubbed with a hand over his nose. He felt so cold suddenly as if all the warmth of his life was being sucked out with Alex leaving the room and leaving Willie standing there all alone, not knowing if Alex could ever forgive him. How could Willie know that Alex would really call him in a few days, maybe he will change his mind and break up with him, he couldn’t be sure.

He just knew he was supposed to leave the flat so he packed the few things scattered around the room and slowly made his way to the door, only seeing Alex back where he was hunched over the kitchen counter, head hanging low, no doubt crying too. But Willie wasn’t allowed to comfort his boyfriend and it shattered his heart. Without another word he left.

Willie dived full into work mode after his schedule was cleared, not having to make space for Alex anymore. And he would rather keep himself busy than lay in his bed with his head in the pillow and cry till it was wet with his tears. Now he could cry for a few minutes in the bathroom stall and then pick up his task like nothing had happened. Washing his face and then greeting everyone like he was good.

To his astonishment Caleb held his promise and Willie wasn’t paired with Bobby to work with. It would’ve been traitorous to meet up with Bobby while the wounds where still fresh and open for his friends and Alex.

The days Willie promised Alex to keep away turned into two weeks and Willie grew impatient. Just one message that was all he wanted and needed.

Surprisingly to him the rest of Sunset Curve had reached out and he met Julie, Reggie, and Luke, and they had talked things through. Willie repeated his story and he could tell his friends were hurt too but against his expectation were quick to forgive him. Understanding the situation Willie had been in. Breaking the trust of either Bobby or the others, there wouldn’t have been a happy ending for him either way, but Willie was frustrated it had affected Alex in the aftermath. The one person he promised to never hurt, and he went and did it anyway.

It was nagging at him day and night and the others were making sure he wasn’t falling in a hole too deep and Willie hoped they managed to do the same with Alex. Unless Alex was good at living without him, but Luke revealed that Alex wasn’t coping well either. Willie wasn’t sure if he liked it better hearing that.

One day Willie came home to the big house with his parents gone again and crawled right into bed. Exhaustion from work and life in general noticeable in his bones, desperate for some relieve in form of a nap. Too tired to make something to eat only for him, where was the fun in that anyways.

Wrapped up in his blanket and head pressed into the pillow he didn’t need to tell his eyes twice to close and he was ready to drift off when his phone suddenly ringed. Groaning he reached out with one hand to grab his phone from the nightstand, only opening one eye to take a glance at the caller name.

Suddenly both his eyes flew open upon seeing Alex written on his screen, sitting up and throwing the blanket off. Without hesitation he accepted the call.

“Alex?” Willie hoped it didn’t sound too hopeful in case Alex was crushing his feelings the next second.

“Hey. Willie? Can we talk?”

[grantyort]

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.  

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

 [Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean! 

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait! 

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

 DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white] 

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response.  Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go. 

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for... 

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

[angst-fairygodmother]

I loved your latest SVU Carisi fic! I would love something with Barba, please! Maybe something where he asks a coworker (either a detective or someone from the ME's office) to an event, either because he's lonely or embarrassed to go alone again.

A/N: Can I just say, I appreciate how general these prompts are for SVU because they really give me the room to go where the whim takes me? Because I do (not that I don’t love prompt lists, but this style just works for me with this fandom). I hope you enjoy the direction that this one ended up. Also, I watched several Barba episodes and a bunch of clips for “research” and that was a hole I was not planning to end up back in, but I still love him, apparently. Not quite as much as the first time around, but enough. Word Count: 2804 Tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster

“Mr. Barba! What brings you to my dark little dungeon corner of the world?” you asked, smiling brightly as the ADA strolled into the morgue like it was Central Park at noon.

“Y/N, please. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Rafael, or at least drop the ‘Mr.’ We’ve seen each other’s worst, there’s no need to be so formal,” he said, returning your smile with a small one of his own and a rueful shake of his head.

It was true that you and Rafael had known each other for years, since your school days when your stubborn and shameless self had wormed your way into the DA’s office, allegedly as part of a research project for school (a story that didn’t hold up when you never left). And he, still a young, brash ADA (not that the brash part had changed or ever would), had largely been stuck dealing with you as you poked through records and cases and pointed out all the places that they could have done better with handling the forensics of things. They never chased you out, because it came in handy over time and you had a charm that made your Nancy Drew nosiness, as he had nicknamed it, more amusing than annoying. By the time you had graduated, you were practically a part of the inner circle at that office, and it was easy to leverage that (along with your shining grades of course) into a prime position as a medical examiner.

Of course, the most valuable thing you had gotten out of all of it was still the friendship of Rafael Barba. He’d encouraged you through exams and romantic breakups and personal stresses without blinking and you’d done as much of the same for him as you could. He’d poured your inebriated ass into more taxies than you could count and sent you just as many hangover-cure breakfast deliveries. You’d laughed together, cried together, held each other up when the world seemed to be trying to crush you.

And still, at work at least, you insisted on calling him “Mr. Barba.”

“We have, but you’re also the one who talks about the need to keep professional lives separate.” You shrugged with a smirk. “Besides, it amuses you how much me calling you ‘Mr. Barba’ makes you squirm.”

He rolled his eyes. “I brought lunch.” He held up a familiar paper bag, no doubt containing sandwiches and raspberry turnovers from your favorite diner.

“Not dignifying me with a proper response I see,” you teased. “And bringing me food. Either I’m in trouble or you’re trying to bribe me for a favor. I hope it’s the first one, it’s always more fun.”

Your smirk widened and you waggled your eyebrows at him, waving him over into the little lounge area outside your office and pouring two paper cups of tepid coffee. He silently passed you your sandwich, hoping that you didn’t notice the light blush creeping up around his ears, or his quick intake of breath as you bit into it and moaned involuntarily. You both chewed in silence for a while, and you tried to just enjoy his company, as you usually did. But there was a strange tension in the air, unsettling the comfort of the silence and putting you on edge as you waited for whatever he came to talk to you about.

“Alex and Yelina’s tenth anniversary is coming up,” he said finally, trying to hide the strain in his voice, even though he knew you knew him well enough to notice it anyway.

You nodded silently, a sympathetic grimace on your face. You knew how much it had stung to him to attend the wedding and watch his childhood best friend marry his first love.

“They’re having a charity gala to celebrate. And personally invited me to go.”

You sucked in a hiss through your teeth. “Ouch.”

He nodded dejectedly. “I can’t say no to them. But I don’t know if I can get through the evening.”

“I could write you a doctor’s note. Fake some sort of illness preventing you from…I don’t know being in that large of a crowd or something?”

He laughed, and you smiled at the sound, knowing that it meant things weren’t quite as bad as they could be, and you didn’t need to break into your secret bourbon stash to fix them.

“Actually,” he said, buttoning his jacket and then immediately unbuttoning it again, as you often saw him do before a particularly difficult argument in court. “I was hoping you’d come with me, as my plus one. It’d really help to have a friendly face that I know can hold their own against the vultures.”

You sat in stunned silence for several minutes, staring at him. Your mind raced. Had he just asked you on a date? And if so, did you want to say yes?

When you didn’t answer, he shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat to get your attention. You jumped, startled out of your thoughts by the noise.

“I don’t want to impose; you were the first person I thought of. I know it’s not really your scene. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, as if to tell you to forget the whole thing.

“Oh. Sorry, it took me a minute. I guess I just didn’t expect it. I thought you’d ask Olivia or someone, you know. I’d be happy to go with you though. I’d love to, really,” you started at the same time, leading the two of you to be talking over each other like fools.

You both stopped, you trailing off more than his abrupt end, and then you locked eyes and you giggled. After a few seconds of delay, he joined your laughter and soon, there were tears in your eyes and he seemed to be struggling for breath as you took absolute joy in the ridiculousness of it.

“Honestly Raf, I don’t know why you even questioned it,” you said when you had gotten yourself under control again. “Of course I’ll go with you. What else are best friends for?”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, relief evident on his face.

“So how fancy are we talking? Am I going to need formal wear, or will a nice cocktail dress that covers all the bits be enough?” your eyebrows wiggled again and he chuckled.

~

The night of the event, you were just putting the finishing touches on your appearance – making sure everything was perfect down to every hair in the right place, but not like you tried too hard, wanting to seem like this was not as big of a deal as you had slowly worked yourself up into thinking it might be – when a knock on your door alerted you to Rafael’s arrival. When you answered, you were momentarily stunned, a tux shouldn’t seem all that different than his usual three-piece suits, and yet…

Luckily, he seemed just as thrown off by your appearance, and the pair of you just stared at each other.

Finally, you broke the spell, gesturing lamely behind you. “I just have to uh, grab my bag, and then I’ll be good to go.” You tried to smile at him, but you were pretty sure it came off as more of a discomforted grimace.

And why shouldn’t you be discomforted? All this time, there had never been anything between you (though you would be the first to admit that you had found him attractive when the two of you met). And now, suddenly, you couldn’t look at him without feeling that fizzy, almost nauseous twist in your gut, the flutter of your pulse at the sight of his smile, the overwhelming desire to absolutely wreck his perfectly styled hair and pressed lapel as you pulled him close and ran your hands over every inch of him in a sensuous war for dominance. You tried to tell yourself it was just the occasion, the fact that he had asked you to be his guest to an event that clearly meant a lot to him, and that it really meant nothing. If you could maintain the lie for long enough, you pretended to believe, everything would go back to normal.

The car ride over to the event hall was short, the time filled with a primer on the various important people (both politically and to him) that would be at the party. Most of it was information you already knew, but still, you let him talk, knowing that it made him feel calmer. And then you were linking arms with him, hand delicately wrapped around the fold of his elbow and walking through the grand arching doorway.

“Thus, into hell,” you muttered too low for even him to hear, forcing a smile.

Introductions were made, hands were shook, the air next to cheeks were kissed. You had not yet met the couple of the hour, but you felt like you had met the entire rest of their world, dragged into mind-numbing small talk about stocks and board meetings, policies and constituents (where they were numbers and dollar signs and goals rather than people). At some point, you were separated from Rafael by some women who were absolutely determined to drag you into their conversation about some community center building charity and the related press benefits of visiting the construction site. They all flinched and tittered uncomfortably when you pointed out that their manicures would get ruined and they’d just be interrupting the professionals actually doing the work and wouldn’t it be better to just do a ribbon-cutting photo op when the project was over?

Finally, you managed to extricate yourself and found Rafael by the bar, sucking down a bourbon like no one’s business. He turned to the bartender as you approached and already had a vodka soda waiting when you reached him.

“My hero,” you said taking a deep drink. “Don’t ever leave me alone with those people again.”

“That bad?” he asked, eyes dancing as he smiled at you over the rim of his glass.

“I think I felt my soul exit my body. Twice. Why are you drinking so heavily already?”

“Alex and Yelina just arrived. I managed to duck them, but not before I got to bear witness to the whole…loving couple photo op.”

“Oh. I’m sorry Raf. Still, if they’re here, we should go say our hellos. The sooner we do the sooner we can blow this popsicle stand, yeah?”

He grimaced and finished his drink. “I suppose you’re right.”

He turned to walk away and you tugged him back to face you.

“Wait, here,” you said, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie, fingers skimming his throat in the process and you swore you felt him flinch at the contact. “You were crooked,” you explained.

~

“Rafael!” Yelina said, smiling brightly and pulling him in for a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that,” he said, smiling at her in a way that made a soft twinge in your chest that you tried to pretend wasn’t jealousy.

“Congratulations, both of you,” he said, patting Alex on the shoulder.

“And who is this?” another woman in the crowd, who you thought had been introduced as the wife of some other senator but you hadn’t been paying that much attention, said, gesturing to you. “I mean I know this party is doubling as a charity gala, but you didn’t need to bring an example case.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped, glaring at her.

“Oh you know what I mean darling. It’s not an insult, just stating facts that you obviously don’t belong. It’s little signs, you really do look…fine. But the hair, the clearance rack clothes, and when is the last time you had your nails done?”

“Y/N is one of the most brilliant medical professionals in New York City,” Rafael cut in before you could respond, curling his arm protectively around your waist. “And not that it’s any measure of character, looks fantastic by the way. But it’s an organic, genuine beauty so it’s no surprise that you don’t see it Mrs. Johnsville. After all, you haven’t seen your own genuine appearance in, I’d guess twenty years? Or maybe it’s jealousy causing you to say such spiteful things to the most incredible person in the room. Either way, I’d suggest you stop, before someone brings up your husband’s scandals and causes a scene.”

You turned your head to stare at him, lost for words. There was a not-so-subtle threat in his words, but that didn’t matter to you in light of the things he was saying about you, or the adoring way he said them.

He turned back to his old friends. “Alex, Yelina, I hate to do this, but I’m not going to stand around and let someone insult my date that way. So we’re leaving, but maybe we can get dinner sometime soon and catch up.”

“Of course, Rafi,” Alejandro said, his polite political host smile edging its way toward a smirk. “The four of us will have to do that.”

~

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rafael said, sighing as you both sat in the car. “She had no right to speak to you that way. I…”

“Stop, Raf. It’s not your fault. And you jumped in like a knight in shining armor, no harm done.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I’m a little disappointed that I got all dressed up for you and I didn’t even get to dance…” you stuck your lower lip out in an exaggerated pout that made him laugh. “But I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”

“And for having dinner with Alex and Yelina and I. Assuming you’re willing to. Which I totally understand if you’re not.”

“I was wondering if you were going to bring up that invitation,” you laughed. “And of course I’m willing. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to to get it through your skull, I’ll do anything for you, Raf.”

Suddenly you had a brilliant idea and you looked over at him with a grin.

“Uh-oh, I know that look…”

“You know what’s better than dancing and wining and dining when you’re dressed to the nines?” you said, eyes aglow the longer you thought about it.

“What?”

“Being dressed to the nines to eat greasy diner burgers! Let’s go to Hank’s!” You grabbed the hand that rested on the center console in both of yours, pulling it close to you and batting your eyelashes pleadingly at him.

He groaned and shook his head. “Alright.”

~

“You know,” Rafael said, shifting nervously as he walked you to the door of your building. “There was a bit of a wreck in the middle, but all in all, this wasn’t such a bad first date.”

“Is that what this was?” you asked, heart skipping a beat as your both stopped on the steps.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

“A little. I mean, you could have told me sooner. I would have done way cuter shit all night.”

He laughed, looking at you softly. “I don’t need you to do cuter shit. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“See, shit like that,” you waved your hands around in frustration. “I don’t have a good comeback compliment for you because I wasn’t expecting it. You threw me off my game, charming bastard.”

“Y/N…”

“If this was a date, I believe a goodnight kiss is traditional,” you smiled.

He leaned in, close enough for you to smell the cologne he wore and the alcohol he’d had earlier and the spearmint breath mint he’d picked up from beside the diner’s register when he’d insisted on paying. His lips brushed lightly against yours but he quickly pulled away, just enough to look you in the eyes.

“You’d better not be calling that my kiss,” you teased.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Sighing in exasperation, you did as you’d imagined earlier and grabbed him by the lapels to tug him closer and press your lips to his. He sighed against your mouth, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your head gently and hold you closer, the other arm wrapping tightly around your waist. Your lips parted, opening up to him and your tongues danced together like it was what they were designed for.

Gasping for air, you both pulled away, and he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered.

“Night’s not over, yet,” you answered with a shrug.

“What?”

The words felt inevitable, but right, as they worked their way through your throat.

“Do you want to come upstairs, Raf? We can watch a movie or…dance…”

[knifeshoeoreofight]

part 1  part 2  part 3  part 4 part 5 part 6

A03

Sid is nervous. He checks his phone. The battery’s full, he charged it just before he left. He frets to himself yet again if the camera is going to be good enough for the dim light. He—

“Sid.” Zhenya is smiling fondly at him, and he takes Sid’s hand from where he’d been clenching it nervously on his thigh. Zhenya laces their fingers together, and leans over to press a kiss against Sid’s temple.

“Hey now, not in front of the children,” Flower teases, leaning past Vero who rolls her eyes.

“It’s his go around at this,” Veronique says with a laugh. “With stakes in it, I mean.”

Sid blushes, and glances up at Zhenya, who is gazing at him, naked fondness written all over his face.

He leans in to whisper in Sid’s ear. “She gonna be fine, we practice so much. Will be so cute. And then we take her for dessert after. Diner has good pie. We let her get with ice cream on top.”

We.

It takes Sid’s breath away. He has to look away, at the other families settling into folding chairs in the elementary school gym. Zhenya leans in to press his shoulder against Sid’s, and settles their clasped hands on his knee.

Sid doesn’t have time to continue to try and handle his emotions, the lights are being turned off, except for the spotlights pointed at the curtained stage in front of them.

The grey-haired music teacher sounds a few chords on the piano, and the elementary school holiday play begins.

***

The play is a retelling of the Rudolph story, emphasizing the power of friendship. Sofia is one of the reindeer, and she’s mostly supposed to stand in a little group with the others and make appropriate reactions to the events of the play.

It’s utterly, completely, the most adorable thing Sid has ever seen. A small cluster of the tiniest kids sing a little song dressed as snowflakes and the audience makes adoring “awwww”s at each cute little slip-up, like the boy dressed as an elf who spots his mom in the audience and waves wildly to her.

Sofia is trying so hard, Sid can see it. She’s got a intense look of concentration on her face all throughout the song and dance she does with the other reindeer. Sid finds himself mouthing the lyrics along with her. She’s been singing it over and over for days, practicing. She gets through it, does perfectly.

There’s a little scene where Rudolph is sad because he’s a new reindeer at the North Pole, and he’s not sure if the penguins and the polar bears and the other reindeer will play with him. Sid leans forward and tightens his grip on Zhenya’s hand. This is her big moment. The little boy playing Rudolph is sadly sitting cross-legged at center stage, chin in his hands. Sofia is supposed to walk over, and say “of course you can play with us, Rudolph! Come with me, it’ll be fun! “ as she extends a hand to walk him back to the others.

He sees Sofia gulp, and lift her chin. She steps out of the cluster of other reindeer, little bells on her antler headband jingling in the quiet.

She walks over to the boy, and then, stops. She looks down at the little boy, and thanks to his insistence on getting there early so they can sit dead center in the front, Sid can see her chin wrinkle and her eyes glitter, and he knows she’s about to cry. Oh, no. His heart sinks, and he mentally starts planning on how to comfort her after this.

“Don’t be sad!” she blurts, which is definitely not her line, and drops to her knees and throws her arms around “Rudolph” for a crushing hug. Also not what was supposed to happen. “Don’t be scare!” She definitely crying a little. But Sid can see her take a breath and calm herself.

“Ofcouseyoucanplay withus, Rudoph! C...Come with me, it’s— be— fun!” she says, and Sid lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She clambers to her feet and tugs little Rudolph to the other reindeer, to a moved murmuring from the audience, and a scattering of applause that grows to include the entire room. She stares into space, still in character but red as a tomato.

The piano begins to play again, as the reindeer hop around the stage in a circle holding hands with various penguins and polar bears.

Sid looks over at Zhenya, sees that he has tears streaming down his face. It’s Sid’s turn to squeeze their hands together in reassurance.

“Such big heart,” Zhenya leans down to whisper thickly into Sid’s ear.

“I know,” Sid whispers back. “Gets it from her papa.” Zhenya makes an inarticulate noise, and has to let go of Sid’s hand to wipe his nose on his sleeve, because neither of them had thought to bring Kleenex.

The play continues, and when it’s over and all kids take their bows by class, Sid and Zhenya get to whoop and cheer for Sofia, and she looks out and smiles wide when she finds them past the lights.

After, she runs out from backstage to let her father pick her up and spin her around, and to be told how perfect she was.

Then she twists in her father’s arms and reaches for Sid. He takes her from Zhenya, and she clings to him like a little koala. She rests her head on his shoulder and Sid holds her tight and closes his eyes against the sweet, sweet pain of how much he’s come to love her.

“Sid?’ She says in his ear. “I do okay?”

“Perfect, sweetheart,” Sid tells her, and Zhenya smiles at him and the way his voice croaks with feeling.

***

They go to the diner for the promised pie, and Sofia chatters away in a hodgepodge of Russian and English about the play.

At a lull, when she’s contentedly licking ice cream from her spoon, Zhenya clears his throat.

“Зайка,” Zhenya says to her, then glances at Sid, and lays his hand on the table between them, palm up and waiting. “Need to talk about something, okay?”

Sid can’t breathe. They’d agreed when they’d first gotten together that they weren’t going to tell Sofia just yet. Has Zhenya changed his mind? Hesitantly, he takes Zhenya’s hand.

“Papa and Sid are dating,” Zhenya says, including Sid by using English. He repeats it in Russian. Sid can feel him nervously tighten his hand in Sid’s.

Sofia takes another bite of ice cream. She looks at Sid. “Marisol have two mommies,” she says. “I’m have two papas?”

It’s Sid’s turn to grip Zhenya’s hand. He takes a long, shuddery inhale, everything in him aching at the picture her words paint.

“Maybe,” Zhenya says gently, looking at Sid, then back to his daughter. “Right now we be very special friends. Maybe we visit Sid a lot, maybe he visit us.”

Sofia grins at Sid, wide and sunny. “I like Sid house.” She takes a big bite of pie, reaches up to fix her slipping antler headband. “I like Sid.”

“I like you too, sweetheart,’ Sid says, still fighting his emotions. Zhenya reaches an arm around him, pulling him close against him, and noisily bussing his temple.

“Can do this, now,” He says, in tones of great satisfaction. Sid laughs and snuggles in, daring to lay his head on Zhenya’s shoulder. He’s never been one for a lot of PDA, but he’s finding that just about everything is different when it comes to Zhenya.

The doors to the diner open with a jingling of bells, letting in a blast of cold air and a lot of happy, noisy Fleurys.

Flower sees how he and Zhenya are sitting, and winks at them, prodding at Vero to look.

Sid rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move, warm and content to stay just where he is.

***

A couple days later, he gets a call that he’s been waiting anxiously for.

“Bro!” Taylor screeches into the phone. “Squid, Squidney, Squidathon. I’m. Fucking. Done. They’re over. Vanquished. Deceased.”

Sid laughs. She’s always a little bonkers by the time final exams are over. “Did you get your grades back yet?”

“I don’t even care anymore at this point, I am a being made of pure caffeine and sleep deprivation. My field of fucks? Is barren. I’m literally booking it out of here as fast as humanly possible.”

Sid laughs again. “Well I can’t wait to see you, so that sounds like a plan to me. What time do you need to be picked up?”

“Ass o’clock in the morning on Saturday,” Taylor replies. And then I’m going to sleep. All day. Maybe all day Sunday.”

He doesn’t blame her, after finals weeks and an overnight bus ride. “Absolutely. Come sleep it off. I may have even have washed the sheets sometime between now and last year this time. You know, ‘cause I Iove you and shit.”

He tucks the phone more securely between his shoulder and his ear as he gets a pristine set of sheets out of the linen closet.

“You’re too good to me,” Taylor says dryly. There’s a lot of rustling around on her end as she presumably keeps packing her bags.

Every since Sid’s taken over the farm completely, family Christmas has taken place at his house. He absolutely loves it. Noise, laughter, food, everyone he cares about in one place. His favorite part, though, might be the couple of days he has with Taylor before the rest of the family arrives.

She’s been leaving her university and heading straight to his place as soon as her finals are over for the last couple of years. She helps out with the last minute holiday rush on Christmas trees and takes charge of decorating his house, because, as she puts it, “I’m all for kicking traditional gender roles to the fucking curb, but you are absolutely hopeless and I’m taking over from now on.”

“Yes ma’am,” he’d told her with relief. “And I’ll do all the cooking. We can kick traditional gender roles halfway to the curb, how about it, eh?” And it’s been their special thing ever since.

There’s one thing he’s got to tell her, though, about this year.

“So, uh,” he says, brilliantly. “You remember I told you I was seeing someone?”

“Oh yeah, Evgeni with the cute kid. We’re Instagram buddies.”  

“You’re what,” he says, shaking his head and deciding he doesn’t want to know how that happened. “Anyway, it’s um. Pretty serious. So he and Sofia will be around a lot. Just letting you know.”

“Duuuude!” Taylor crows delightedly. “Sid! I’m so happy for you, oh my god!”

Sid laughs. “I’m happy for me, too.”

“Good,” Taylor says warmly. “And I  won’t even insult your judgement by giving him the shovel talk.”

“Thanks for that.”

“If he does hurt you, I will of course, skin his eyeballs.”

Sid groans. “Tay. Gross.

There’s a clatter and some yelling in the background. “Okay, I gotta go, Squid. But I’ll see you soon.”

***

Taylor doesn’t meet Zhenya and Sofia until the day of what Taylor calls “Target Trek 2k18.”

They drive to the next town over, which has more of the shopping that Taylor wants to do.

She eyes him as they walk into the store. “Now that you’re dating a dude with a kid, I can’t let you loose in a toy aisle unsupervised. Uh-uh.”

“I am not that bad,” Sid protests.

Taylor rolls her eyes. “I remember the first Christmas after Estelle was born. You must be contained.”

His phone rings as he’s trying to get her in a headlock for a noogie .

“Hey, ba—Zhenya,” he amends, as Taylor snickers at him.

“Hey, Sid. Wanted to ask if you wanted to get lunch, know you’re out doing errand today.”

“Absolutely,” Sid says, eyeing Taylor. “Tay and I are in Midfield. That too far?”

“Not for sushi,” Zhenya enthuses. Sid laughs. Their little town is pretty awesome but what it does lack, to Zhenya’s distress, is a sushi place.

They make plans to meet at Zhenya’s favorite little hole-in-the-wall in an hour. After he hangs up, Sid sighs at Taylor, who looks seconds away from full-blown witch cackles.

“So sweeet,” she coos at him, and then dances away with a shriek as he brandishes a roll of wrapping paper at her.

“Behave,” he admonishes. She makes the mistake of coming back within range and he bops her on the head with the wrapping paper.

They bicker until, two aisles later, Taylor turns to him, suddenly serious.

“I know how important they are to you, Sid. I know I’m giving you a hard time but I know how much you want this to work.”

He has to swallow down something really sappy before he has the composure to fake-punch her shoulder.

***

As she always seems to, Sofia is the first to see Sid.

“Siiiiiiid!” she shrieks, sounding like nothing so much as an approaching police siren. Just, cuter.

Sid crouches and scoops her up, making exaggerated noises of complaint as she scrambles up onto his shoulders, tiny pink sneakers digging into his back as she settles herself.

When she’s secure and he’s standing again, face being squished between her little hands, Taylor is staring at him, smile wide and eyes soft.

She doesn’t say anything, just turns to enthusiastically greet Geno as they all head into the restaurant together.

[stereksummerexchange]

Dancing In My Storm

@neaislove | AO3  

by @bellamy-hale

Teen and Up - Graphic Depictions Of Violence Rape/Non-Con

“Get up loser, I can smell your sadness from outside,” said Erica with no room for Stiles complaints or whining.

“I don’t want to,” he complained petulantly anyways. They had a stare off for all of thirty seconds before Erica was rolling her eyes and pulling out a greasy burger bag from her purse. Narrowing his eyes, Stiles inspected the bag warily before reaching forward for it, but at the last second Erica pulled it out of his reach.

“Come with me Stilinski, or no fries,” her voice was thick with mischief as she twirled and sauntered away with a clacking of her heels.

Stiles considered ignoring her, curly fries be damned, but under better judgement decided to gathering his belongings and follow after the fierce blonde.

Stiles’ breathing was ragged as he scrambled closer to the wall. His jeans were torn and his shirt tattered. What remained of his shirt was splattered with his own blood mixed with alpha and beta spunk. His lips were kiss-swollen and bloody, causing every shaky intake to be accompanied by a stinging pain from the split in his lip.

The two figures walked away drunkenly as the abused omega puked up whatever was left in his stomach. He couldn’t move, even to attempt to wipe the filth off of himself. As the seconds passed, the alley grew colder and even more miserable than before.

“I told you he’d be good, bro.”

“What omega isn’t?”

Stiles felt his stomach churn again, and he couldn’t move fast enough to avoid vomiting on himself. It took nearly three hours before he could finally move. His legs were sore, and the pang that shot up his back caused tears to cascade down his face. Getting to his car was one of the most awful walks he’d ever had to endure. He vaguely registered the sound of his Jeep revving to life as he swerved out of the parking lot. Once he arrived at the apartment, Stiles felt  numb as he sat motionless in his car for god knew how long. It was a blur as his feet carried him up the stairs and into his lonely apartment. As usual, he dropped his keys on the counter and his bag onto the ground with a hard thud. His eyes brimmed with more tears and Stiles let them fall freely as he tried to make himself feel safe in the wave of his own scent.     

He stood in the shower for a long time, not moving until he had to. He felt like an abandoned building just after a tsunami. As the water cascaded down his spine, all of his escaped thoughts from earlier seemed to make their appearance at once. His sobs became hysterical as he crumbled to the wet ground. His shower lasted until his hands were wrinkled and his skin beet red from the scalding hot water. The entire bathroom was steamed, allowing him to avoid seeing his reflection in the mirror.

It was a quarter past three when he sat on the cold plastic chair of the health room. Pamphlets and brochures about safe sex and the ‘glory’ of a mating bond and knotting surrounded him, taunting him. Every picture had a happy couple smiling at one another, their arms wrapped around one another lovingly. Stiles stared disdainfully until impulse took over, causing him to rip up a pamphlet and crumbled it.

“Dr. Hemington will see you now,” the receptionist was clipped when she spoke, eying Stiles judgmentally from beneath heavily painted eyelids

Where he would ordinarily feel the urge to snark back, he found he didn’t have the energy now. Nodding curtly, he ducked his head as he scurried to the exam room, throwing the pamphlet away as he went. The doctor greeted him cheerfully despite how early it was. His bright smile caused Stiles’ hands to begin twitching spasmodically. Their staredown lasted until Stiles finally looked away, shamefully submitting in defeat.

“Mr-…Mi…My-”

“Stiles, ’s okay.”

The man set his clipboard down for a second to glance at Stiles. The man took in his fidgety hands and rapidly tapping foot. Lifting the clipboard up once again, the doctor studied over the charts on his clipboard. “Alright, Stiles, why are we here today?”

“I, uh…I think, I think something happened to me.”

“You think?”

“No, I know, I just…it’s hard to..to, uh, reflect on, that’s all.”

“Can you tell me what this something is?”

Stiles paused for a long time, just breathing. His heart was pounding and if the doctor was an alpha or another omega instead of a beta, Stiles was sure he could have heard it from miles away. Swallowing hard, he folded his hands in his lap to try and gather his thoughts instead of just letting his hands fidget around aimlessly.

“It just happened and, uh. I…two guy ra-…they- I mean…” Stiles had to clear his throat once again before he could continue, “They forced me into sex.”

“Before, you said you think,” said Hemington, not even bothering to look at his clipboard.

“Yeah, because my brain wasn’t computing a  few seconds ago. My words got mixed up, and I just said the safest thing that-”

“Is it possible that your words got mixed up at the time of the event?”

“Event?”

“Were you at a party tonight?”

“No, I was at the bar, but I don’t see how-”

“So you were drinking then?”

“Yeah, but I only had half a-”

“Do you remember what these guys looked like? Any significant traits they possessed that could identify them?” Hemington said as he finally picked up his clipboard.

“They both had Alpha Beta Pi jackets on.”

Dr. Hemington slowly rested the clipboard back on the table as he gave Stiles the most sympathetic look he’d ever received. The man launched into a well rehearsed speech about how he shouldn’t feel ashamed, or make up lies about what he wanted at the time. How it was okay to explore his sexuality in various ways, including three-ways if that’s what he wanted. Stiles felt repulsed and almost like he was going to vomit again. It wasn’t what he wanted, he had said no, and he repeated his story with as much vehemence as he could manage, but the doctor circled the conversation back to pheromones or chemosignals, any number of things that must have declared otherwise that might have slipped out by accident.

“I said no!” Stiles exclaimed with a mixture of anger and disgust in his voice.

“And I believe you…but do you?” asked the doctor with that same sympathetic look on his face. “I’m…not saying that you’re making this up, but even if we did track these two boys down by scent, it would be two Alpha Beta Pi boys’ words against your own.”

Stiles was shocked into silence for the first time in his twenty-one years of life. He sat almost catatonically as Dr. Hemington listed all of the ‘reasonable’ options he could pursue. The man suggested group therapy or one-on-one counseling twice a week with Mrs. Collins, instead of going to the authorities with a not-so-solid case on his hands.

The doctors prescribed Stiles with birth control pills and a plan B pill for his ‘just in case’ moments.

Stiles left the building feeling even more defeated than when he walked in.

****

TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

Holding the strap to his backpack tightly, Stiles ducked his head as he made his way through the dorm hall. A few people waved to him or attempted to talk, but he ignored them as he rushed to his room. A few freshman sat in the halls with lax, dopey smiles, surrounded by books as they squabbled over something that was most likely not homework-related. Stiles watched them for a few seconds before remembering that he had his own homework due for his criminology class. As his mind drifted from essays to criminal behavior, Stiles’ expression turned tense as he remembered the scumbag of the night. Last night had been easy.

It was probably one of the easiest nights he’d had in a long time, hell, he didn’t even have to use his blade this time. Aaron Schmidt, alpha, resident asshole, and captain of the men’s volleyball team. He had date raped Alicia McConahay last Tuesday and bragged about it to his frat bros. Naturally, word had gotten out that Alicia was an easy omega, causing her once peaceful life on campus to spiral, as most of the male population on campus began to forcefully proposition here.

His shoulders slumped in relief once he entered his room, losing the tension he always carried with him these days. He had transferred dorms almost a year ago to get a new start with his life, and this new life just so happened to include his new roommate, Danny Mahealani.

“You’re home late,” noted the other omega casually, not even glancing at Stiles as he scanned over the three laptops that decorated his desk. “I take it he was easy?”

Danny knew all about his wannabe vigilante antics. It’d been easier this way. Especially because Danny knew a bit more about hacking into databases than Stiles did. Don’t get him wrong, Stiles was amazing at research and bugging mainframes, but Danny was on a whole new level when it came to hijacking surveillance systems and hacking into douchebags’ Twitter and Facebook accounts. Besides, it had been getting kind of hard to explain why he was out so late and sometimes came back with cuts or bruises.  

“Two broken bones and the dude is going to need a nose job ASAP. I threatened to chop his dick off and he legit shit himself. It was so gross, dude.” Stiles’ feet dragged along the floor as he acknowledged his roommate. “You’d think that a big tough guy ballsy enough to rape someone and leave them for dead could handle a little surgery on his lower bits.”

Danny snorted, halfway amused and a bit disturbed at the same time. “I’m just glad he got what he deserved. Alicia is such a sweet girl, and he really fucked her up. I heard she’s transferring to a community college next semester.”

Stiles folded his clothes and deposited his knives into a small box underneath his bed. Locking it back up, he slid it against the wall until it was out of sight. Standing, he looked over his shoulder at Danny who was packing his Mac away and taking his phone off the charger. Stiles watched him curiously for a few seconds before disappearing into the bathroom. His classes started after noon, and he didn’t have to be anywhere anyways. Turning the shitty faucet on, he stuck his hand underneath the water, waiting for it to heat up.

“You know,” said Danny, almost hesitantly, “you can…you can tell me anything, right?”

Startled by this sudden statement, Stiles looked up to see Danny leaning against the doorframe. His expression was open and filled with concern, just like all of the other times he’d tried to have this conversation with Stiles.

“Aww, come on, bro, you’re gonna make me pull out the tissue box. You know how I feel about soap opera tears,” Stiles reprimanded in an attempt to remove the weight from Danny’s words.

“Stiles, I’m being serious.”

“As serious as a heart attack.” He turned his back to the older omega while he idly turned the water from cold to hot. Through the mirror he saw Danny opening his mouth, “Danny…I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about lil’ ol’ me.”

Danny nodded slowly. “Okay…I’m going to head to class, try to get some sleep.” He lingered there for a few seconds before slowly closing the door behind himself.

Read the rest on AO3

[beccajoybanks]

An unimaginable loss

I’ve started this post more times than I can count....The first few tries were all in my head, working through my various thoughts and emotions, trying to pull out the right words and questioning their relevance. I’ve gone back and forth about sharing this story.  At times questioning if I really want to let people in to this dark and painful part of our life and at other times questioning if people really would care to know.  But despite all my negativity and my fears, I feel a strong push to put these thoughts down.  Even if it’s only for my own personal healing, although I hope it can serve a bigger purpose.  Over the past 2 months I have been comforted by others’ words, others’ stories, especially the ones with the happy ending we are so desperately hoping for in the future.  So with some hesitation but mostly hope for a bigger purpose, I am sharing the story of how Andrew and I lost our precious baby.  The story below isn’t sugar coated, it’s been written over time and so some parts are quite raw, but for me I found a lot of healing in hearing others’ stories.  Their real, honest and painful stories.  Because it helped me feel less alone in this.  It helped me realize I am not the only one who has experienced this pain.  I also know I won’t be the last, so it’s for that reason that I share.  In hopes that someone will find comfort in their own time of grief.  

It's really common they said. 20-25% of the time this happens. Most people won't have this happen again in the future. All of these statements were supposed to be there to comfort us but we didn't expect this. We hadn't truly prepared ourselves for this. And the pain and sadness I felt was like nothing I'd ever experienced.

Andrew and I were at our first ob appointment. By our calculations we were 9 weeks and 2 days into the pregnancy and all my pregnancy apps and books told me we would be able to see our little baby on the ultrasound. That appointment started with the standard urine sample, height, weight, blood pressure and basic health questions. We then spent about 30 minutes with a nurse practitioner who went through my medical history, calculated our estimated due date: September 11th, and answered all our questions. She ended by explaining my doctor would be in shortly to do an exam and an ultrasound and she congratulated us again on our pregnancy. Then my doctor came in and although it was my first time meeting her, I felt comfortable with her right away. She explained everything she would be doing beforehand and then started with the exam. Everything looked good and just as it should be. Next would be the ultrasound where we would finally see our baby. It was the moment we had both been waiting for. The moment for it to all finally feel real. As she inserted the wand and moved it into place I immediately realized something was wrong. I could easily make out the sac but it was just a big black circle. There was nothing in it. I knew from my books and all the ultrasound images I've seen that our baby should have been visible inside the sac. It shouldn't be empty. She remained very calm and was careful not to alarm us.  My doctor was cautious to not jump to conclusions. She explained that with how far along I was that we should be able to see something. She asked me again about dates to confirm they were correct and to ensure I wasn't possibly off in my timing. She then said it could be the machine and she wanted to have things checked out on the newer larger ultrasound machine. I wanted to be hopeful. I wanted to believe that this machine just wasn't good enough and our baby was really in there. My heart chose to hold onto that hope, probably so I wouldn't break down then and there. The larger machine wasn't available right away so I redressed and we waited in the lobby until they called us back. The wait was about 20 minutes but it felt like a lifetime. It was the hardest 20 minutes I've ever had to wait. What made it worse was being surrounded by pregnant couples. Some quite far along and showing. Others seemingly in similar timing as us. Everyone was smiling and chatting.  One couple came out to the lobby and sat down to wait for blood work to be taken while they looked through their ultrasound pictures. I tried not to look but my eyes couldn't seem to pull away. It was clear from even across the lobby that this was their first ultrasound and their baby was only 8 or 9 weeks along. That was supposed to be us. Those images should have been in our hands. We should have been overflowing with excitement and happiness. Instead we were anxious and scared. Preparing ourselves that our worst nightmare may be coming true.

When we were finally called back I took a deep breath and said a quick prayer asking for a miracle. Unfortunately we would quickly realize that we weren't getting a miracle that day. The ultrasound technician did her job. She took a bunch of photos and measurements and explained they would be sent to a doctor at Northwestern hospital to take a look and then our doctor would go over things with us. She wouldn't say it but I knew at that point there was no baby and I had clearly miscarried. But unfortunately we had to go BACK to the waiting area and wait until the images were reviewed and our doctor was notified. It was all I could do to hold it together in that chair. Thankfully the waiting area had cleared out a lot and there was only one other couple. I remember swallowing every few seconds to keep from crying. My stomach in knots making me feel like being sick. When our doctor finally called my name she brought us to a room with a couch and a chair. There was glass windows but they were all frosted so no one could see in or out. There were tissues on the table next to the couch and I took a deep breathe as I prepared to hear the worst news of my life. She explained that I had most likely miscarried the baby. That at 9 weeks along they should be able to see something and they did not. However, she wanted us to wait 1 week and come back for another ultrasound just to confirm. She didn't want to get our hopes up though and she prepared us that most likely we had lost the baby but they would give it one more week just in case. She explained that if it was a miscarriage, it could pass naturally but if it didn't there were a couple of options. She explained that if it started happening on its own to give her a call. Otherwise she wanted us back in a week to do another ultrasound and then we'd discuss options. She was very kind and told us how sorry she was. I was obviously very emotional and she left us alone in the room and told us to take our time and we could leave when ever we were ready.

It was what they call a missed miscarriage because although my body kept preparing for a baby, hormones increasing, symptoms of pregnancy, even a gestational sac, our baby had not developed. Most likely it stopped developing fairly early in the process and it was probably due to a chromosomal mismatch. Basically my body knew the fetus wouldn't develop into a healthy baby so it stopped developing. But the rest of my body didn't get the message yet and had continued its job of preparing for a baby.  I knew what a miscarriage was and I knew it could happen to us but honestly I never thought it would. I didn't know the various types of miscarriage and I didn't know that 20-25% of pregnancies result in one. As it sunk in more the names of friends and family who I had known went through this popped into my head. The fact that most of them have gone on to have healthy pregnancies and babies afterwards gave me a sliver of comfort. But my heart still ached. Once I stopped my crying we left the doctors office and I waited in the car while Andrew paid the parking fee. Yes even when you get the worst news in the world you still have to pay for your parking in Chicago. Once he got back in the car I completely lost it. It was like nothing I'd ever felt or expressed in my life. It was the deepest sadness mixed with intense pain. I truly felt like my heart had broken in a million pieces. All I remember is crying uncontrollably and poor Andrew just didn't know what to say or do. He was just as devastated but felt there were no words he could say to comfort either of us in those moments. I can't tell you for sure how long we sat there, probably only a few minutes, but it felt like longer. Then as I calmed down we left the garage and I prepared to make two very difficult calls.

We had told just my immediate family (my parents, my sister and her husband).  I had made the decision to wait to tell others until after our first appointment.  I just wanted to be able to know that everything was good and our baby was healthy.  We had planned to tell Andrews mom and his brother and wife that following weekend.  We would share our news and show them our ultrasound pictures.  But now there would be no exciting news to share.  Since my mom and sister had been anxiously waiting to hear about the appointment, I knew I couldn’t keep them waiting long.  So we called and told them, each immediately sharing in our grief and pain.  We told my dad later that evening after he got off work.  I can’t really explain it but having to tell people close to you about the worst news of your life is a complicated mix of emotions.  At one hand I was devastated, angry, upset yet I was still worrying about how they would take the news and how they were feeling.  I hated having to share such sad news with someone else.  I didn’t want anyone else to have to feel the pain and sadness we were feeling.  Each of my family members handled the news in their own ways, and we are thankful for everything they did and said to try to comfort us.  Although nothing could truly take the pain away, their support helped me get through each day. For those of you who know my dad, he is like many dads, a problem solver and whenever there is a problem he can’t fix his only solution is just to be with you.  So my dad bought my parents last minute flights and they spent that following weekend with us.  I had wanted a distraction from the thoughts circling around in my head.  Since we were still in the waiting period for our second appointment, I appreciated spending quality time with them and enjoying the city we love.  

By time they left Sunday night, my body had started giving me signs that I was miscarrying and my body was preparing to do it’s job.  By our Wednesday appointment it was evident that the ultrasound would simply confirm what we knew was already happening.  That there was no fetus and my body was disposing of the pregnancy on it’s own.  Although that wasn’t the news I was hoping for, a part of me was relieved to know the answer.  To begin healing and moving on from this nightmare.  What I didn’t know as we left the doctor’s office but I would learn later that night, is that losing a pregnancy naturally is incredibly painful physically and emotionally.  After reading many blogs, I have learned that experiences vary.  Mine was an evening and night of intense cramps, and eventual contractions.  By 11 pm, I tried to go to sleep but the pain made every position uncomfortable.  I tossed and turned as contractions become more frequent.  I found some relief from the pain by taking a bath but by 2 am nothing was helping and the contractions were coming back to back.  I laid on the cold tile floor just praying that the pain would go away and that this would all be over.  Eventually, I think some time around 3 am, it finally ended.  My body had successfully done it’s job and the intense contractions and cramps stopped.  All I could do though was sob, uncontrollably.  I was so relieved to have the pain over but the sudden realization hit me that it meant our pregnancy was over.  We had lost our baby and there was no denying that anymore.  Thankfully I have an incredibly supportive boss and she had given me the week to work from home or not work, whatever I needed to do.  I was especially thankful for that as I woke up Thursday morning with having slept only a few hours and feeling exhausted from what my body had gone through.  I needed that day to process what had happened physically and emotionally.  I would eventually go back to work the following Monday and the return to my normal schedule helped.  The distraction of work also helped. I would have ups and downs and emotions would sometimes hit me out of nowhere, but slowly but surely I was getting through more and more days without breaking down.

In the coming weeks we would continue to talk through our experience with each other.  It was often hard for Andrew to process since he hadn’t gone through what I had, yet he felt pain and emotion too.  What we didn’t know, but quickly learned, was that although you are no longer pregnant, your body takes a long time to fully process.  I was told that I would need to come in for weekly blood draws to test my hcg level.  I would need to continue until the number was below 5, what they considered negative.  The first week (the day of our first appt) I was at 23,000.  One week later in the midst of my body processing the loss, it was done to 7,000.  I thought surely at this rate I will only have to this another couple weeks.  Unfortunately I was wrong.  With each passing week, the decrease became smaller and smaller.  700, 400, 10, 4.8.  It took 6 weeks of having blood drawn before I was told it was finally over and I was finally negative.  That final call came on March 16th and I was thankful to finally be done with the tests.  Getting blood drawn wasn’t the issue, I could handle that.  It was going to the OB office, week after week, the same office I had once gone to to see my baby.  There is a separate waiting area for blood work and ultrasounds.  It’s separate from the main waiting room.  So each week, 90% of the people sitting in that waiting room with me were pregnant, visibly so.  So each week while I waited for them to call my name, I had a painful reminder of what wasn’t happening, of what I didn’t have.  So to say I was relieved to not have to go anymore was an understatement!  When I walked out that last time, hopeful that this was the last time, I said a prayer to God to please allow my next trip to this place be for our next pregnancy.  I prayed that this first pregnancy was finally over and I prayed for a healthy future baby.  

Andrew and I are still processing all of this but are thankful for our friends and family who have walked alongside us through this.  Who have prayed for us and with us.  We are hopeful and trusting that God has a plan for our future baby and we are hopeful that day will come soon.  Like I said when I started this post, I did this in hopes that our story will comfort someone else.  And I did it to help me process the emotions that still sometimes flood over me.  Andrew and I will never forget our first pregnancy, our first baby, no matter how short it’s life might have been.  We hope and pray that God gives us a healthy baby in the future and we pray for all the other families out there either going through the same experience or through their own grief story.  We pray for all the moms and dads out there who are still waiting for God to bring them their healthy baby.  If that is you, we hope you know you are not alone.  

[kylewritesaboutthings]

Riot Fest 2016 - Day 3

Let me take a moment to tell you about the Law of Standard Deviation. In short, it states that 99.7% of all occurrences of an event or action will take place within 3 deviations of the mean (or 0 deviations). This is the principal behind that bell curve that your teachers always talked about. Everyone pretty much does the same except for the burnout who tanked the exam because they spent 7 hours geeked up on adderall looking up conspiracy theories over the “real Paul McCartney” and the kid who had the Casio watch with all the buttons on it that you could totally use to cheat but you know he never did. The extreme highs and lows are rare, but a possibility. 

Why did I just give you a math lesson on basic averages? Because sometimes you wake up from a three day bender of punk rock, malort, pizza, Old Style, more malort, various other illegal substances, and more malort and feel absolutely incredible. Sometimes you wake up on the .3% of mornings where no matter what you did to yourself the night before, your body has rallied like an Olympic athlete and repaired itself in the four hours you’ve slept since your last drink. Aided by a stomach full of tacos from the night before, I woke up on Sunday morning feeling like a golden fucking god. 

I could not say the same for my Riot Fest companions Rachel and Steph. As both were hurting, I took the Uber ride of triumph, the opposite of the walk of shame, to move my car from its post of abandonment outside of Quenchers Saloon from the previous night (where I guess I loaded out hot sauce gear while blacked out, came to trying to sing Fall Out Boy karaoke, and flashed back into consciousness as I woke up at the bar counter of an all-night taco spot). My driver was as surprised as I was about how chipper I was at such an ungodly early time of morning, asking me if I’ve been to “The Riot Fests” over the weekend. An interesting and often unnoticed trend about the baby boomer generation; they will add ‘The’ and ‘s’ to anything of youth culture. I first noticed this when, despite how much I talked about it, my dad always referred to Tony Hawk Pro Skater as “The Tony Hawks”. As in “you’re always on The Tony Hawks, have you even studying?” The answer to that was no, because I never studied due to the fact that I am a smartass-know-it-all. But I digress…

My partners in crime aka two legs of the traveling tripod were hurting and this needed to be rectified. They’ve put in so much work helping Soothsayer Hot Sauce get where it is today and the best thank you I can think of is delivery coffee and breakfast sandwiches when hungover.  A quick stop through to Dunkin Donuts later and we were in business. The brace-faced teenager burned our everything bagels, but that’s alright. The previous evening we had smoked cigarettes like we were sponsored by Philip Morris so it’s not like our taste buds were working at 100% anyway. What really matters is eggs and friendship…eggs being the most versatile and delicious food stuff to ever happen. When people say “oh, I could totally go vegan if it wasn’t for (insert non-meat animal product here)” it is usually cheese. But I’ve tried some amazing vegan cheeses thanks to my pals in Typesetter and I could live with that reality. But I could never live without eggs. 

After dropping off food to Steph, I made my way home to my very hungover girlfriend for budget breakfast in bed. It is at this point I wish I could tell you that we all instantly rallied and started the final trek to Douglas Park, but that would be a lie. The reality is that we basked in the air conditioning and watched Netflix until the very last possible second needed to leave in time to catch Thursday shake off the cobwebs and remind everyone how fucking depressing it is to grow up in New Jersey. Yeah, I know. We missed The Bronx, The Falcon, and Andrew WK. Sometimes you just want to start the day lying in bed with the only person you really want to be around while you laugh at cheesy cop shows, ya know? But I had a literary responsibility and some back assed semblance of journalistic integrity that would make Joseph Pulitzer vomit in his mouth just a little bit, so we dragged ourselves off of the memory foam mattress and got our shit in gear. 

Making it just in time to see Thursday take the stage, I thanked our dark lord and master for my uncanny sense of timing that allows me to be late, but not too late, to everything I do. That and the fact that once again the security guard didn’t find the chillum in my shoe. Before I got too much time to reminisce on that (or pack a bowl), they kicked right into “For the Workforce, Drowning”, the lead track on 2003’s “War All the Time”. I know that many argue that “Full Collapse” is Thursday’s crowning achievement, but I would argue that they are fucking wrong. Of the emotionally driven music to come out of the early aughts, War All the Time is one of the most powerful. They portray the pain, confusion, and anxiety of that place and time in such a way to make it beautiful. Their four year hiatus hasn’t hindered them one bit, Thursday is still an impressively powerful live band. Driven by the gap-toothed smile of Geoff Rickly, they tore through a hits-only 40 minute setlist that made all of our former scene kid hearts smile. Wishing that I still had at least one of my white, Hot Topic pyramid belts, they barreled through “Jet Black New Year” while trailing into the chorus of Prince’s “1999”. To close their set Rickly bid the crowd adieu, saying “you might recognize this next song from your local bar’s emo night” as the opening notes to “Understanding in a Car Crash”. The irony being that Mr. Rickly would be hosting the emo night at local standby Beauty Bar later that evening. 

One of the best things about festivals like Riot Fest, is the opportunity for back to back sets from some genre heavyweights that otherwise wouldn’t be sharing the stage together (or the opposite, where you get “WHAT IN THE ACTUALLY FUCK” moments like Me First and the Gimme Gimmies playing a set on the Rise Stage just before Death Grips).  If you would have told me two years ago that I would be hanging around waiting for Underoath to play after seeing a set from Thursday I would have said you were crazy. Both bands, defunct for the last number of years, have recently gotten back together for some high profile reunion events. Thursday giving it another go at this year’s Wrecking Ball fest in Atlanta, while Underoath  spent the winter/spring touring a dual album anniversary set for 2004’s “They’re Only Chasing Safety” and 2006’s “Define the Great Line”.

As a former Myspace era scene kid (see: black swoop, white pyramid belt, Norma Jean shirt) this was a dream come true. I had already driven up to Grand Rapids earlier in the year to see the reunion/album tour and was excited to see what they had to offer for a non-linear set. Kicking off with “Breathing in a New Mentality”, the opening track from 2008’s “Lost in the Sound of Separation”, Underoath showed both the fans and the curious alike that they still have it. One of the central aspects of their reunion was the return of drummer/singer Aaron Gillespie, who hadn’t played with the band since 2010. If you are unfamiliar with Underoath, you’d recognize them as the band that really started the ‘clean/whiney singer trading vocals with a second, screaming vocalist’. Love it or hate it, they made it popular and arguably did it the best (and god damn if keyboardist Chris Dudley doesn’t look fucking adorable while he’s trying to look like he’s really contributing to the song). 

My lovely girlfriend, who indulged me through two albums worth of scream goodness earlier in the year, wanted to check out English songwriter/pipsqueak Jake Bugg…so I hung up my low v-neck and retired my neon Supra’s a little early and left Underoath to wrap up as we went to find a nice, shady hill spot at the Rock Stage. Only having heard Bugg a few days prior, I was intrigued to see what this 22 year old had to offer. Playing a garage rocky, folky, blues forward style this kid has somehow amassed almost 100 million listens on his top 5 Spotify songs…most of which came on an album he released when he was 22. As the theme today was ‘general chill’, it seemed like a good way to close out the last of the daylight, and that it certainly was. Surrounded by a backing band, Bugg played a solid 45 minute set while mixing his faster/slower songs. I was impressed, at 22 I would be lucky if I could be on a stage that size for 5 minutes without throwing up…let alone entertain a couple thousand people for the better part of an hour.

At this point in the evening, the things I had to give a shit about were pretty much over. Ever curious about large scale spectacles/general bullshit, we wandered over to see the first part of Death Grips set. Admittedly, I haven’t spent much time on what is one of the more polarizing bands around. I know they leaked their own album ahead of the release date to piss of their label, I know they have an album cover that is just a big ole boner with the title written on it, and I know they notoriously just don’t show up for performances. But those I know who love them, LOVE THEM…so I wanted to see what it was all about. We made it all of about 2 minutes before trading looks of “what the fuck is this shit?” and fleeing as far away as possible. Death Grips have been added to the list of things that I just don’t get. They were by far the loudest set all weekend, abrasively so. And with the stage lights set so dim that you couldn’t really see anyone on stage, so the only thing one had to focus on was the pooling of blood in your ear canal. 

As I could give a fuck about Rob Zombie playing just about anything that isn’t “Dragula” repeated for 60 straight minutes, this seems like as good of time as any to circle back and talk about what Riot Fest did right and wrong this year. The biggest check in the plus column for the crew responsible for punk rocks biggest carnival would be their adjustments to the layout at this year’s installment. While last year’s location details were filled with stress and uncertainty, having to move from Humboldt to Douglas Park and then facing last second threats from St. Anthony Hospital, they were able to work on solid ground this year and damn if they didn’t do it right. 

Issues with sound bleeding from stage to stage were all of non-existent from what I could tell and in terms of maneuverability; it was incredibly easy to get from one act to the next. Having one main gate made finding your way in very easy, with all will call/VIP/press check in’s occurring right in one spot. You would think that shuffling thousands of people through one gate would cause a huge backup and bottleneck? Not the case, entry was quick and easy on all three days. Compared to what I experienced at Shaky Knees in Atlanta, Riot Fest has set a standard for urban music festivals. They did a fantastic job providing a wide variety of vendors, both food and otherwise, while placing them in three central locations (food stand, food truck, retail vendors) for easy access. Unlike the rambling views of near blackout drunk Kyle, I would say that there were plenty of available port-a-potties and I never had to wait very long to relieve myself in the stuffy blue box we all know and love. 

I’m really happy to see this year go so well for the Riot crew, as they’ve worked really hard to make this festival what it is. As someone who has seen all the phases of the fest, from the mutli-venue city hopping weekend, to the Congress Theater takeover, to the Humboldt Park introduction…they have come a long way. The rains held out, for the first time in three years, and they didn’t have to stare down a $100,000 repair bill. They booked the biggest/most surprising reunion in punk history (more on that shortly) while filling out the rest of a very solid lineup with new and old favorites. In the era of major festivals, I’m glad they’ve done what they can to give punk rock their say. My only complaint: more water stations. While September in Chicago is not known to be a sweltering month, having one water station (and a small one at that) for thousands of attendees is a poor showing, if not a dangerous one given the amount of alcohol consumed onsite…both legally purchased and snuck in like some kind of boozy joey for alcoholic kangaroos. 

Now that that’s out of the way, a brief review of the reunited Misfits: they played well. Seriously, that’s about all I have to say. They had a rad set for a band who hasn’t been a band for the entire time I’ve been on this planet. Danzig only freaked out once, calling out his stage tech for microphone placement, and sounded out of breath in between every song…the kind of out of breath that you get from eating too many McDouble’s, not the kind you get from running a marathon. But they did well, everyone had a great time, and I got to hear “Where Eagles Dare” from the comfort of the back of the crowd before we made our traffic beating, early exit home.

All in all: 10/10, would do again, thx fr th mmrs, tip your bartender, ect.

The end.

[newstfionline]

China’s millions of lonely ‘leftover men’

Wanning Sun, The Guardian, 28 September 2017

When Liu returned to his childhood village to celebrate Chinese New Year, his parents had arranged a familiar and depressing task for him: a series of speed dates. Over a week back in rural Jiangxi province, he met half a dozen potential wives in encounters he says felt more like job interviews. He expects to go through the same process next year, without much hope of success.

For Jin, who works with Liu in the factories of China’s Pearl River Delta, the cajoling matchmaker was his second cousin. “My cousin brought [the date] to meet me in a public square in the village, then left us together,” Jin recalls. “A few minutes in, this girl made it clear that owning an apartment would be essential, but she could wait till later for a car. And she’d be OK if the apartment wasn’t in the centre of the town, but I had to have a deposit of at least 200,000 yuan [about £22,500].”

In recent years, the patriarchal Chinese state has launched campaigns warning unmarried urban females over the age of 27 of the perils of becoming “leftover women”. But in reality--due to sex-selective abortions, a traditional preference for sons and the country’s one-child policy--there’s a far larger cohort of “leftover men”.

Official state media put the male-to-female ratio at 136:100 among unmarried people born since the 1980s. Professor Jin Tiankui, an influential sociologist in China’s policy-making circle, predicts that by 2020 there will be 30 million more men than women in the 24–40 age bracket.

Liu and Jin blame their lack of romantic success on their low social status as migrant workers from rural provinces. The state says there are about 278 million others like them, the backbone of the country’s wildly successful manufacturing, construction and service industries. They embody the nation’s most intractable problems of inequality--loneliness included.

In 2010, the main state-endorsed union surveyed thousands of rural migrants in 10 cities across the country, concluding that “the defining aspect of the migrant experience” is a sense of loneliness due to a lack of romantic prospects. A separate survey found that more than 70% of construction workers (almost exclusively rural migrants) reported emotional loneliness as the most painful aspect of their lives.

Liu is 33 and lonely. As a teenager he left school to help his parents on their farm, but soon ventured south to Shenzhen on the border with Hong Kong, hoping to make more money. When I first met him he was working 12 hours a day, six days a week assembling iPhones at one of the Foxconn plants where Jin now works.

Without advanced education, Liu is only qualified for insecure, low-skilled jobs. The long hours and low pay make the practicalities of dating more daunting. “It’s not because I’m a shy person. I just don’t have enough money to feel confident,” he tells me. “When a man has money, every woman feels destined to be his girlfriend.”

When Liu is not worrying about his own loneliness, he’s feeling guilty about letting his parents down. “They sacrificed so much to bring me up, and all they want to see is that I’m married. But I’m not able to give them that,” he tells me. “They try not to put too much pressure on me, but I know they’re under a lot of pressure from neighbours and relatives. I have two sisters and I’m their only son.” The tradition of continuing the family lineage is strong in China; many rural parents would consider it a terrible failure if their sons did not find a wife.

By various metrics, China is ranked as one of the most unequal societies in the world. The architecture of this inequality is the system of hukou or household registration. Since the 1950s, hukou has cleaved the population into urban and rural categories, allowing China’s ruling elite to better control the lives of the country’s vast rural population in a planned economy. Today much of China’s economic life has been transformed, but key elements of hukou remain. This means that rural migrants who have lived and worked in a city for many years, contributing enormously to its prosperity, do not have the same access to employment, housing, education and healthcare as officially registered urban residents.

Roughly two-thirds of the migrant workforce is aged under 35. I’ve interviewed dozens of men like Liu and Jin in Shenzhen, and most have little interest in rural life in villages that have been left behind by China’s economic boom. But their prospects for settling in big cities are little better than those of previous generations. They’re unlikely to earn enough to own a home or even a car, prerequisites to be considered marriage material by the urban middle class. Access to the tertiary education which can unlock better paying jobs is restricted by fiercely competitive entrance exams, where many young rural men are unsurprisingly outshone by their well-resourced urban counterparts.

Increasingly, even workers in their late teens and early 20s are feeling the pressure. “These days, the only reason my parents call me is to tell me to hurry up and find a girlfriend. I’ve stopped answering their calls,” says Jiang, a 22-year-old Foxconn worker from Sichuan province.

Lacking financial independence, young rural migrants rely on their parents for emotional and practical support more than their urban educated counterparts. They’re less likely to object to their parents arranging speed dates, or ultimately choosing them a partner and negotiating the caili (dowry payment).

This old tradition, banned in the era of Mao, has made a comeback in rural China. There are a number of reasons: the embrace of capitalist and entrepreneurial values; the imbalanced ratio of men to women, which drives a seller’s market; and the persistence of patriarchal values which consider women to be properties, owned first by their parents and then their husband. The bride’s family would be seen to be getting a raw deal--losing both face and a rare opportunity for considerable economic gain--if a fee was not part of the bargain. The amount could range from the equivalent of a few thousand to tens of thousands of pounds, and often proves to be a deal breaker in these negotiations.

Even if a match is made, things don’t always end well. Hasty weddings can lead to hasty divorces; in one county in Henan province, up to 85% of all divorces in the period from 2013 to 2015 involved rural migrant couples. The government has signalled its concern about high divorce rates and “temporary couples”--made up of individuals who marry in their villages and then return to cities to form separate romantic relationships there.

In a one-party state that values social stability above all, this growing cohort of millions of disaffected and sexually frustrated young men is an unwelcome development. In a rare move, the Chinese Communist Party used an official policy document to declare its intention to “step up efforts to solve the problems facing second-generation rural migrant workers”.

Of course, loneliness affects migrant women and men alike, and women suffer in myriad ways from broken relationships and disintegrated families. But it’s the image of sexually deprived migrant men that figures prominently in the state’s anxious imagination. There’s an obvious link between angry young men and social unrest, and history points to a connection between frustrated marital aspirations and upheaval, such as the tension caused by the demonisation of poor unmarried men by the Qing dynasty ruling class.

The abolition of hukou is crucial to bridging the rural-urban divide. Both central and local governments have tinkered with the system, but further reform is unlikely. That’s because increasing opportunity for rural migrants necessarily means increasing competition for the established urban middle class--themselves seen as a key stabilising social force in society. Unelected and perennially insecure, Communist Party leaders feel they can’t afford to risk instability by adopting meaningful redistributive social policies.

Meanwhile, for millions like Liu and Jin, the search for love and intimacy--and with it dignity and social worth--goes on.