#But I mean Dream deserves a break - he was homeless and now he baby
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TASK #11
WRITE A LETTER
sensitive / triggering content: none.
Dear Mads,
I'm glad that we didn't work out.
I realize that saying this probably makes me sound callous and insensitive, or maybe even bitter and angry. The ex-boyfriend scoffing loudly at the bar, telling his friend that he is just so glad that things didn't work out with his ex-girlfriend, so much better off without her now. Can live his own life, do what he wanted to do, not have to worry about a ball and chain. But I'm not bitter, or angry, and I've never looked at you that way, not since meeting you years ago at that party, and definitely not now, either.
I've always thought that I was a rebel, a risk taker, someone who went out on a limb and did things just do to them, someone who didn't hesitate to try something when dared, to push himself to the limit. I've traveled to cities and tried foods and downed drinks and drove cars and slept with people and danced and sang and danced again. I've sky dived and scuba dived, I've raced cars and speed boats. I've climbed bridges and I've seen glaciers, I've stayed up all night and I've slept all day. I've seen and I've done so much that I thought I would consider risky.
But when I moved to Merrock, that was a real choice. I've been to this town before, I've visited Greyson, I've stayed overnight in the hotel. Never in a million years did I think that I would have made the move here, to be with you, to see where this relationship that we were both attached to would take us. I took a risk, and it paid off.
I'm glad that we didn't work out.
I think that it would have been okay. I really did love you, and I think some day we might have gotten married, had a couple of kids. Maybe I would have run the art gallery, eventually, and you would have found a way to dedicate your time to charity, feeding the homeless with our baby on your hip. Then again, I probably would have had to trade my car in for an SUV, and I think we both know how much I love that car. But I do think that things between us would have worked out, and we would have been happy. To an extent.
Then again, I look at my life now, and I think that I'm happy. And I'd like to think that you are, too. I'm sure you traveled somewhere, probably to build houses or find clean drinking water. You always were a saint, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way. I mean that in the way that a man says when he looks at a woman with stars in his eyes, because you were always a little too good for me, and I think we both knew that. I hope you've found a true love, someone that you can fall asleep next to every night, and maybe has put a ring on your finger -- maybe you're even married, and have taken his name. I want that for you, for you to be happy, wherever you are, because it's what you deserve out of life. I'm happy, too. I have Iris and Jayla, and we just put in a pool. Plus, Maurice hasn't killed me yet, and I haven't killed the fish I share with Vivienne. (We named him Picasso.) I'm still working at the Garden and the art gallery, and just got a sizeable bonus at the latter after the new owner took over and realized exactly how much work I do. It felt good. I didn't really realize that work could feel good. I didn't realize a lot of things about life.
And I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't moved to Merrock to take a risk and be with you. But... you probably wouldn't have realized your dream, and I probably wouldn't have continued to push myself if we stayed together. It would have been almost too comfortable, and life might have been good, and we might have been happy, but I don't think it would have been what the universe had in store for us. Us breaking up, you leaving town, it made me make a decision for myself to stay somewhere for me, to build a life for me, to do something that was just for me. No matter how much we loved each other, I think there's something bigger out there for both of us. I hope you've found it.
& I'm glad we didn't work out.
x Ryder
#merrocktask#;; i'm gonna go buy a snack lol#& then as long as the storm (AGAIN!!!) doesn't knock out power i'll be here aaall night <3
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✯𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒴𝑜𝓊✯
✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚ ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮
NIKKI SIXX X READER
˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮ ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮
Requested:
Contains: FLUFF
𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @metalheartofgold, @ginny-rose-sixx, @xxqueencolourxx, @littlemisscare-all,
💕MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! LOVE YOU GUYS AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED TOO💕
Keys:
(Y/N) - Your Name
(L/N) - Last Name
(D/N) - Daughter’s Name
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“Dada.....”, The little 3 year old baby girl that I held in my arms babbled as she looked at her father over my shoulder with her cute curious eyes who was already walking towards me with a small smile on his face, looking at the small child as he looked at her excited (E/C) eyes with his warm hazel ones.
“I’m here, sweetie....”, He murmured softly as he kissed the girl sweetly on the forehead making her giggle and coo happily at her father,” Good morning.”
“Good morning,...Nik...”, I said as I leaned into Nikki’s touch as he wrapped his arm with security and warmth around me and the little bundle of joy that was right next to us.
“Morning, beautiful.....”, He whispered in my ear kissing my forehead and then my cheek, only then to plant his warm and slightly chapped lips unto mine. The kiss was short but despite that it had a burning taste of passion in it that I couldn’t describe but either way... I loved it.
The embrace was then interrupted by a small barking sound from the floor, as I felt a tug on my nightgown. I then departed my eyes from Nikki to see two small set of brown eyes looking at me energetically as the small pup wagged its tail with joy as he looked at the baby with wonderment.
“And you too, bud....”, He said with a laugh as he picked up the dog from the ground, making the dog yap at him and his tail wag with speed. I giggled at how cute the two of them were as I then looked at (D/N) tiny form as she leaned gently into my shoulder giggling at the pup that was in Nikki’s hands.
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‘Buddy was new to the family once (D/N) was born. It wasn’t just an early Christmas present but it was also something that Nikki and I talked about when she was born. I thought about what it would be like if we did have a pet and if it would be nice that our daughter got to play with it. Nikki of course agreed same going for me as we both had our fair share of love for animals especially dogs. And he couldn’t say not to his newborn daughter too. We wanted to buy and get a pup especially for her, but I then heard about an option for adopting one from one of my closest friends. I overhead from her that these pups were homeless or abandoned and needed homes, as well as it would be an amazing idea to have one. It wouldn’t just be a good decision but rather an amazing way to spread awareness about these animals who need love and attention. Thinking about that made me think of Nikki and his past. It always left me thinking that Nikki deserved better. A better family to have raised him, a better childhood, and a better life. Nikki of course was happy now and would always remind me that I was always there for him and that things have changed now because of me and the people that supported him aka the crue as well as other people and to not worry about the things that happened to him in the past, because he already has his two most greatest things: His Band and His Family. But those exact same thoughts made me wonder.
“Those animals deserve the exact same thing.
Love, attention, and a Family.”
Not Hatred, Loneliness, and Abandonment.
Just Like Nikki needed it and has it now.
As I rethought the decision in my mind, I smiled as I then went and talked it over with Nikki about adopting a pet. He of course was shocked to see me talk about my reasons for it especially since he was mainly the reason for it. Of course after finishing he gave me a strong embrace and a kiss, and accepted on a adoption for a pet. Afterwards, He told me that I had such a heart of gold and teased me about it for the rest of the day......
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‘Ughh’, I thought in my head as I groaned at Nikki’s teasing remarks that day, as I saw him play with ‘Buddy’, as well as (D/N) joining him in the floor of the living room. ‘What a dork.’ I smiled with a blush as I looked at them as I went to the kitchen to start on breakfast, as a few moments later my two devilish angels a.k.a Nikki and (D/N) decided on wanting to join in and help me with it.
But at least he’s my dork.
8 hours later
“Mommy.”, (D/N) asked me as she tugged on my party dress I picked out for the dinner party looking at me with cute baby doll eyes.
“Yes sweetie”, I said softly as I picked her up gently looking at her as I awaited for her response.
“When are my aunties and uncles going to come.”, She said her eyes a bit sad as she looked down, as she already had her clothes ready for the Christmas dinner party we were holding at our place.
“Oh, honey...”, I started to say my heart breaking at her expression she gave me, “Your aunts and uncles will come....Even some of the kids too so you can all play....There are just running a bit late....But don’t worry....Okay.”
“Really?”, She said as she had hopeful eyes gleaming, rubbing her eyes.
“Yeah, princess.”, Nikki said as he appeared next to me, wearing his formal wear, looking as handsome as always, taking (D/N) in his arms and hugged her, “Everything will be ok.”
Then as soon as he said that a door ringing was hear from the front door.
“Speaking of the devil.”, I muttered jokingly to Nikki as he chuckled rolling his eyes a bit playfully as he patted my shoulder as he gently put (D/N) on the floor next to Buddy who was now wagging his tail in excitement.
“I’ll get it.”, He told me as he went over to the door opening to reveal...
You guessed it.
The breathing, living, and rocking crue....
Standing at our door...
My Parents , my friends along with their husbands and daughters , and.....
My brother!
Looking at him standing there I was shocked.
“Surprise!”, He said as he had his arms out ready to hug me and a huge smile on his face.
“(B/N)!”, I said with wide eyes open as I hugged him tightly a happy smile reaching its way on my face, deep down believing this was all a dream.
“ In the flesh.”, He said with a chuckle as he broke free from the heartwarming embrace.
“But- How.....”, I asked him still amazed at him standing here in front of me, “I thought you couldn’t come because of your job.”
“Well..., let’s just say a little someone gave me a nice talk through the phone and told me to come here and meet you as a surprise.”, He said as he looked at me trailing off a bit.
“When I mean a ‘little someone’ I mean Nikki.”, He then said as he gestured towards him who was busy welcoming Tommy, Vince, and Mick, “And when I mean a nice talk, I mean he was going to beat and murder my ass if I didn’t come here.”
“Oh no....”, I said as I felt a bit guilty thinking that he came here because of Nikki’s threat., “Didn’t Nikki really force you to come here-”
“No no no, He didn’t....”, He said as he understood what I was trying to say, “I mean a bit but, no. Don’t blame him for anything though, I only came here because of you and about what Nikki said when he called me up.”
“What did he say?”, I asked him as I quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, He told me about how much you missed having me visit for the holidays and well that he wanted to change that by bringing me here....”, He started to say as he stood in front of me, “.......And then he told me about how you were incredibly special to him and lovey dovey stuff as he liked to put it.”
I gasped hearing this..
Did Nikki really just..?...
“But that’s all I can say for now......”, He finished as he then gave a smile, “Other than that I am happy to see you and mom and dad again here together. I know I haven’t been the best bro for not coming for the holidays, but I guess I feel happy now that I’m here. Huh? Now that I’m thinking about it, I feel like with Nikki being around with you its a miracle for him.... He really cares about you, I can tell......”
Still a bit taken aback by all of this information, I saw as I small girl and a woman came walking beside my brother.
“Oh yeah, I didn’t came here alone of course.”, He said as she then said a small ‘hello’, sending me a welcoming smile holding her daughter in her arms.
“I guess I already told you about them in a few occasions over the phone, but this is my wife Donna, and this little munchkin over here is my daughter Annie.”, He introduced as they both said hi, Donna shaking my hand as she said it was nice to meet me, her daughter giving me a shy wave as to say hello to me.
“Its Nice to meet you too,” I said with a warm welcome as I told them to go ahead and make themselves comfortable at home.
I then said hello to my parents and my friends who brought over their husbands and daughters...
And of course couldn’t forget about the jolly ol’ crue....
“Hey Tommy, Vince!”, I greeted as I then walked over to them both as they enveloped me in a warm friendly hug.
They both said hello to me before releasing me from the hug, I was about to greet Mick only to find he wasn’t there.
“Where’s Mick?”, I asked as I tried looking for him around where I stood.
“Mick is with Nikki in the kitchen talking about something... code word ‘ private’....”, Tommy said as he held out the quotation marks in the air whispering the word to me.
“And He doesn’t want us in on listening to their small chat, thinking we are gonna gossip about it to the fellas around here......so yeah here we are.... trying but also not trying to ‘eavesdrop’ on them.....”, Vince continued as he rolled his eyes a bit.
I giggled at them both as I shook my head, “Well good luck with that. ”
After a couple of minutes of introduction with everyone including Mick who came out with Nikki after their so called ‘private conversation’ , we all went to the dining room, Me and Nikki being the last ones as he looked to me.
“So your brother came.”, Nikki commented as he stood beside me.
“Yeah, I noticed.” I said as I tried to play along with his game although already knowing it was his idea all along for him to come here,” I’m really happy he came.”
“Um, I sort of called him to come here. I know how much he means to you as family.”, Nikki said nervously as he looked at me coughing a bit.
Damn it why did he have to be so cute!
“So yeah....”, He said with a chuckle ,” I’m gonna go and head over-”
I cut off his sentence with a warm kiss as I gripped his coat.
He was shocked but slowly kissed me back.
I then pulled away with a sigh.
“I know you called him over and why. He told me everything”, I said with a smile as I noticed him look a bit surprised to hear me say this.
“What you did was really sweet and the best gift I could have from you, I love you.”, I said as I hugged him tightly, not wanting to ever let go from him.
Before long he hugged me back, saying those same words.
“I love you too, Merry Christmas baby.....”
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{AUTHORS NOTE}:
Hey Guys and Merry Christmas to everyone who is reading this or not!!!!
Hope you guys have an amazing holiday whether it is with your family or friends or whoever you celebrate and however you do it!!
🖤I HOPE ANYONE THAT’S READING LIKED IT AS WEll AND LOVE YOU.🖤
IF ANY ONE WANTS TO ASK ME FOR SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH THE MEMBERS OF MOTLEY CRUE OR THE DIRT VERSION OF IT. HERE’S THE LIST FOR ANYONE THAT WANTS TO REQUEST SOMETHING FROM ME.
{ REQUEST LIST }
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#nikki sixx x reader#nikki sixx#motley crue#motley crue fanfic#motley crue oneshot#nikki sixx x reader oneshot
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lonely heart - kevaaron au pt 4
oh look it‘s me, coming out of my dark hole to make you suffer with a super sad chapter with a nasty cliffhanger:) so get your tissues ready and enjoy!! okay first of all sorry that i didn‘t update this in a g e s and that it‘s rather short and for the cliffhanger, but i‘ll try to update it more regularly now:)
check this out for the other parts:)
trigger warnings: drug abuse, mention of suicide, mention of mental health issues, very sad aaron, mention of blood
“You were too good for me”, Aaron whispered into the void. “You were way too fucking good for me. You made me a better man. And I fucked up”
Aaron got up as he felt the tears burning in his eyes. He knew he wouldn‘t be able to sleep alone tonight. Like every single goddamn night since he left Kevin. Like every single goddamn night since he made the biggest mistake of his life.
„Taylor?“, the blonde haired boy murmered, „You up?“
„Babe, you know I‘m up. My girlfriend lives three states away, we talk every single day at the same time as you call your man. Not that I would be able to sleep when you call him, cause a) i love Day and b) you‘re always sad and high and end up in my room anygays, so did he take the phone darling?“
Taylor was Aaron‘s roommate and the closest thing he had to a best friend. She had been there for him every single day, cuddled him, held him while he cried and dried his tears afterwards. And Aaron did the same when she misssed her girlfriend too much.
„You do realize he is not my man anymore, I fucked that up. Big time. He did actually take the phone just to tell me to fuck off and stop calling“
„You could always go over there and say it in his pretty face. Didn’t say you can’t come over did he?Pro point: Might lead to making out“, Taylor said while taking him in her arms. „Plus another pro point: you‘d get sober again. And you‘re less moody. No offense but a Kevin-less Aaron is hardly managable, like you‘re either a whiny little bitch or you‘ll give me the death glare of the cenutry. Legit worse than Andrew‘s and I called him a cute little baby boo once when I was drunk and he almost stabbed me right there with a look on his face like I just murdered Neil in front of him“
„Tay, I take that as a compliment. And we both know Kevin’s a bit of a dumbass so he did not exactly tell me Not To Come over just stopp calling. Anyways I don‘t even know where he lives. And stop talking about me getting high, you do the same shit“
„Yeah but I know my limits and I have not the same history as you. And for the i DoN‘t EvEn KnOwS wHeRe He LiVeS, phone number. Now“
„O- okay“, Aaron said and told her Kevin‘s phone number while Taylor calmingly stroked his back.
„Neat, got him“, Taylor said after a while. „He‘s with the scary big dude and his adorable little boyfriend I think? I have their address right here, I think we‘re gonna visit them tomorrow cause it‘s like 4 am right now and we don‘t wanna rob him his beauty sleep plus we don‘t want to wake the scary big dude. And I‘m pretty sure the adorable small golden retriver boy could and would stab us“
„Did you just stalk my ex and located his phone at 4 am like fucking Garcias in Criminal Minds?“, Aaron said confused.
„Anything for you big guy. And as I said I miss Day‘s pretty face, preferably in your pretty face so you shut the fuck up about how stressed and depressed and lonely you are.“, Taylor chuckled as Aaron looked at her shocked.
„Well I miss Casey, preferable in your face so YOU shut up“, Aaron was never as good in witty remarks as his brother. Especially high Aaron.
„Babe I think it‘s time for you to go to bed, you‘re not fun when you‘re sad, high and tired. Come here, let me cuddle you, while you whiney little bitch sleep“
Aaron slowly went over to Taylor and into her loving arms, laying down, trying to fall asleep.
After a long while aaron drifted into sleep, just to be greeted by familiar smaragd eyes. In his dream Kevin and he never broke up. Kevin was on top of him, his hands gently discovered Aaron‘s body, touching him as if he was sacred, something to worship. Kevin‘s lips were at Aaron‘s ear whispering sweet nothingness. Aaron‘s hips moved against Kevin‘s loving touch. „Stress release“ Kevin called these holy moments in dawn. „Highlight of my day“ Aaron called them.
The dream was as beautiful as it was cruel. It was as if his body, his mind were as much refusing as able to believe that Kevin was gone. It was his own fault, Aaron knew it. But the ever present voice of his mother, disapproving and disgusting, in his head was just too much for him to handle. He thought - foolish as Aaron was - that the pain of living without Kevin would be better, less cruel, less painful. But he never knew real love and therefore never experienced its lost. Until that faitful day. Until Kevin took his bags and left.
Aaron was used to pain. The hot one after an extraordinarily vicious hit. The cold one when his mother died. The numbing one when the hunger was growing more and more unbareable. But nothing was even slightly as hard to handle as the loss of Kevin in his life.
Kevin was the first good thing Aaron had. He gave him a will to stay, to try, to give this stupid sport everything he got. And Exy turned into more mundane things like getting his eating routine under control or getting a more or less acceptable sleeping schedule. The dark days were still there, for both of them, and they would probably never leave them completely alone, but they got less. And when they did happen they would hold each other together.
Ever since he fucked up things with Kevin, Aaron had more and more dark days. The voice of his mother telling him he‘s a failure, the bored stare of his brother and Aaron convincing himself Andrew wouldn‘t even bet an eye if he died, the voice telling him the world would be a better place without him growing louder and lourder every passing day.
Logically he could say that the death of a single person wouldn‘t change much for the over all world population, expect maybe it‘s some kind of insane mademan dicator or someone important, but still. It made sense. All he did after all was fucking up, being a failure, never good enough, never perfect.
His lonely heart only screamed Kevin‘s name and he knew if Kevin didn‘t take him back, his life wouldn‘t make much sense anymore. Well he would definetly not tell Kevin that. He would not manipulate Kevin into loving him, because that wouldn‘t be much better than not having him at all.
Aaron woke up the next day around noon. He didn‘t really feel like getting up, like getting up was simply too much. But Aaron knew he had to. He didn‘t want to worry Taylor more than he already did. And it would end today. One way or the other.
So he got up, put on the first pair of black jeans he could find and the first sweater his hands could find. Ironically it was one of the sweaters Kevin gave him, on the third of december last year. It was one of Aaron‘s favourites as well.
„Ready for the big Day, small guy?“, Taylor said winking at him.
„Not really? What the fuck am I supposed to do there anyways?“, Aaron replied on his way to the coffee maker.
„Talk to him? Deliver one of those borderline cringe big speeches. Get im flowers. Break into his bedroom and say ‚Draw me like one of your french girls‘, naked of course“, Taylor laughed at the face Aaron made, listening to her suggestions.
„I think I like the big speech. I mean I‘m shit with words, but I‘m sure you want to help your boy getting ‚his man‘ back, right? Also what kind of flowers would you give someone you dumped cause the voice of your dead mother told you it was wrong and disgusting, which you never told him for obvious reasons?“
„Honey, you‘re so fucked up sometimes, I love you but you should go to a therapist or something. Also I‘d say sunflowers or roses? I don‘t speak flowers man, I‘m the tech nerd. Not the romantic one, the nerd. But we‘re gonna make a snazzy speech and you‘re gonna get your man back“
After their typical breakfast - if Aaron didn‘t forget to eat again - they sat down together on the living room floor, paper and pen ready, trying to write the world changing speech.
„Why is this so fucking hard? Why can I only tell him how much I love and miss him when I‘m high off my ass“, Aaron complained.
„What about you don‘t think about him that much. Just tell me what you love about him and then we write that down?“, Taylor suggested.
Aaron took a deep breathe and closed his eyes. „I loved him because he was the first one who saw me. Aaron Minyard. And not just the other Minyard, the lesser twin, the shadow of Andrew. He looked at me and somehow chose me. Even if he could have had everyone else. He chose me, even though I‘m not special. Kevin chose the failure when he could have had the first prize. He looked at me and saw something worth loving, worth keeping around. Hardly anyone could tell Andrew and me apart. But it took him less than a day to do so. Kevin is strong, so so strong and somehow chose the most fragile thing he could find, took it and made it worth soemthing. Kevin made me feel something. Not numbness. Not pain. Something warm and beautiful and living. He gave me a reason to stay alive. Kevin made my life bearable, he made my life beautiful. We were both broken and we would probably still be broken if we were together but we softened each other‘s edges. Kevin believed in me when no one else would. He knew how I felt, knew what I needed and when I needed it. Kev gave me love and safety and I kicked it with my feet. This man is like a god who fell for whatever reasons for a homeless man. And I know I don‘t deserve him but I also know I cannot live without him. And I know that I must tell him that before it‘s too late. If it‘s not too late already“
Taylor wipped a tear out of her eyes. „That‘s it. You tell him that and we‘ll get him back“, she said. „Can I hug you?“
„Sure you loser“
„Ah there is my boy“
They spent the rest of the afternoon writing down the speech, making edits here and there. In the end Aaron collected the pages and went to his room to change. He replaced Kevin‘s sweater with a simple black jumper, put on his Docs, got his keys and left.
Aaro did feel a little uncomfortable, stalking Kevin like that. But he knew this was his chance to fix things. This was his chance to get Kevin back, to make his life worth living again. Which to be fair was a bit selfish, but you are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, aren‘t you?
Jean and Jeremy‘s apartment complex was a 15 minute drive away from the flat Aaron shared with his three roommates. Theirs was fanzier, obviously. After all Jeremy was a professional Exy player and Jean was some kind of semi famous artist or fashion maker or whatever. They could give Kevin the world. They could give him what he desereved. All Aaron had to offer was an apology and his love. No money. Not yet anyway. Just anxiety, depression and stress.
But if Kevin was willing to take his love, to give Aaron one more chance, he promised himself Aaron would make it count. He will tell Kevin how much he loves Kevin every single god damn day. Aaron will get therapy and work on his issues. Sober up and this time for good. He will do anything to be worth of god‘s love. Just that god in his case was a twenty two year old boy with black hair, forming soft waves at the end and a smile that will make the sun jealous. Eyes made out of smaragd. Lips so sinful and kissable.
Aaron sat down in front of the door, waiting for his courage to come back to him. He could do this. He would get his man back.
Hours passed, or maybe it were only minutes or seconds after all before someone came closer. Ever so slowly Aaron lifted his head, just to look in the ever so familiar green eyes, big with shock.
„You said to stop calling. You never mentioned face to face conversations“, Aaron said, his voice hoarse.
Kevin stared at him as if he was a ghost, a reminder of his past life, something he rather wanted to forget.
„Look I know I fucked up. I know I‘m not good enough for you. I know you deserve the world and I cannot give it to you. And when you look me in the eyes and tell me you don‘t feel anything for me anymore, no love or hate or affection or whatever humans feel, I will turn away right now and go and never come back. Never bother you again. But if you allow me to apologize, if you however decide to gieve me one last chance, I prepared this whole ass speech for you“
Aaron was sure they could hear his heart beating against his chest, roaring, screaming to return home. To return to Kevin where it belonged.
Kevin‘s eyes wandered to the floor, his fingers automatically closed around his left wrist. A nervous habit. Just another little part that makes Aaron‘s heart ache.
Slowly, almost painfully slowly, he lifted those unbelieveable beautiful eyes and met Aaron‘s golden ones. Kevin studied him and the world around them stopped.
Out of the corner of Aaron‘s eyes he could see Jean going still, his breathing too calm, too even. It‘s the same thing Andrew does when someone fucks with Josten. At least his death would be fast. Or slow. Whatever. Aaron didn‘t really care, without Kevin it wasn‘t worth anygthing anyway.
„Why“, Kevin said after what feels like forever, „Why would I forgive you? Why would I give you another chance? Why would you think you can come back here just to fuck me over again? Aaron I loved you, I really did. I always will. You were my first love and maybe, yeah maybe, my last one. But right now I can‘t. I just, I just can‘t. Please leave. Please leave me alone. For now. Maybe, one day we can talk about it. But right now I cannot handle the thought of you to leave me. To tell me all these beautiful lies, to cut me open and leave me to bleed out. I love you“, tears were running down Kevin‘s cheek. Tears Aaron one day, a long time ago, promised himself he would never let Kevin feel again. Pain. Sadness. Everything because of his failure, because of his weakness, because he‘s a fucking piece of shit.
„Thank you for giving me a reason to stay. Jusst remember that you were my light, my warmth, my happiness and I never stopped loving you. Never will. Please just be happy“, Aaron replied as he turned around to walk to his cars.
When he was sure he was out of ear shot, he let himself feel. Feel the pain. Feel the loneliness. Feel the numbness and the cold and the hatred. It was in that moment, that moment where he was alone and nothing more to lose, that he decided that it was enough. He would end it. End it tonight.
„Thank you“, he texted Taylor. „I‘m glad I didn‘t eat you in the womb“, he texted Andrew. „You were not so bad after all“, he sent to Neil. And lastly „Thank you for taking me under your wing“, to Nicky. They would understand. It would take them some time but in the end they would feel better. They would be happier without them. Because at the end of the day he caused them pain and wasn‘t really worth a thing.
So when he got in his car, tears running uncontrallably down his cheeks, he knew what he had to do.
#all for the game#the foxhole court#the raven king#the king’s men#kevin day#aaron minyard#ship: kevaaron#kevaaron
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Seeing as I don’t have a job right now (one week furlough), I managed to get a lot of writing for Saffron and Sage done today. Now I feel good! Time to ruin that with a Homestuck 2 Liveblog! Last time: Jade kidnapped “Yiffy”, much to Jane’s distress! No time for that, though, as we’re back with the Candyland Kids.
HARRY: vrissy, i know this is a stressful predicament but i think that's going too far.
HARRY: my dad believes in us.
HARRY: and if he thinks there's something we can do, then there has to be a way!
Kind of interesting that Harry holds his dad’s opinion in such high esteem, considering that his dad has been AWOL pretty much his whole life.
TAVROS: Uncle john isn't to blame for this,,,
HARRY: yeah, no shit tav.
HARRY: this whole situation is because of YOUR insane hitlermom.
How the hell does Harry Anderson know who Hitler is? When did that conversation come up? This is a completely different universe!
TAVROS: Is less sincere,,, than it is,,, an attempt to weaponize something difficult for me,
TAVROS: In order that you can win an argument,,, with harry anderson,,,,,
VRISKA: GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
VRISKA: WILL YOU ALL JUST
VRISKA: SHUT!!!!!!!!
VRISKA: UP!!!!!!!!
A good example of why characters like John, Jade, Vriska, and sometimes Karkat are important in Homestuck or in stories generally. They actually do shit.
VRISKA: Neither you nor your friends have anything really important going on.
VRISKA: Your lives and your planet are a total 8ore!
VRISKA: 8ut somehow John loves you anyway.
VRISKA: Try and be fucking gr8ful for that every once in a while.
VRISKA: Not everyone is so lucky.
Vriska please do not be pining for middle-aged John Egbert. You have literally half a dozen semi-official love interests (John, Terezi, Eridan, Tavros, Meenah and Kanaya), please don’t pick the one old enough to be your dad. It was already weird enough when Adult John got hot and bothered by teen Roxy in the epilogues, to say nothing of you fucking a middle-aged homeless clown in a bush.
thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG]
Oh, fuck you, Homestuck. It’s bad enough that Harry and Dave are both going to be referred to as “TG” in chatlogs, but now Vrissy and Vriska are both AG and have the same font color!
TG: i've allocated the strife specibus with the scissorkind abstratus?
TG: hm.
TG: using this weird vocab and stuff feels... well, weird.
TG: i'm not sure why, but it seems as though everything that's about to happen is that much more important now.
TG: or maybe it already was, but i just didn't understand just how important until this moment.
One issue with wearing your metaphor on your sleeve as much as Homestuck 2 does is that thematically important lines become really obvious.
I like how the triangle-shaped panel around Vriska escaping the crowd by simply walking into it is reminiscent of a magic 8-ball. That’s clever!
VRISKA: Your society... no, your whole planet... it deserves to 8urn str8 to MEGAhell, and I'm gonna 8e the one to fly it there!
VRISKA: I'm gonna shatter your paradise into pieces with my 8are hands and SHIT IN ITS GRAVE!!!!!!!!
VRISKA: HOW'S THAT FOR A FUCKING ST8MENT!
VRISKA: YOU GOT ALL THAT, JANE CROCKER?
VRISKA: DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT'S COMING FOR YOU????????
VRISKA: YOU'VE MESSED WITH
VRISKA: ********VRISKA********
VRISKA: ****FUUUUUUUUCKING****
VRISKA: ********SERK8T********
There’s some extreme Dungeons and Dragons energy here, where Vriska’s plan to escape a mob of reporters working for a totalitarian dictatorship run by literal gods is to simply walk outside and publicly declare her intent to destroy the world as punishment for its sins.
And yeah, this is how that plan usually works in DnD, too.
Man, the next page is a wall of text, whereas in old Homestuck this’d be an animation. I get “fair wages” and “small budget”, but is still feels weird to see a big Strife scene merely get described with boring-ass words.
Fearing gunfire, the few paparazzi who aren't currently getting their asses handed to them by the world's angriest traffic cone start to trip over each other, diving for cover.
The world’s angriest traffic cone.
Far away, in her lair, Jane Crocker grabs the two sides of her computer monitor with enough strength to snap it in two. She can't believe what she's watching. Behind her, from a shadowy corner of the room, there is an agitated growling noise and the rattle of chains.
Is that Yiffy? Is Yiffy an animal? Please tell me Yiffy is not a person that Jade named Yiffy.
....Actually, please tell me that Yiffy isn’t an animal Jade named Yiffy that is Jade’s child via sex with another animal that might be my breaking point.
Vriska alights on the ground, rakes her throat, quietly spits out a little wad of blue, and wipes her mouth unceremoniously. Tavros pats Harry Anderson tentatively on the arm. Vrissy tries to be badass and cough up something too but she doesn't really make it work.
Vrissy::Vriska Vriska::Mindfang
It’s weird that John’s sprite is the same even though he’s middle aged now, but I like that his God Tier outfit doesn’t fit any more. Isn’t it magical? Ahh, who cares.
JOHN: this old thing is pretty uncomfortable in a lot of ways.
JOHN: hm...
JOHN: when we get a moment, maybe the two of us could brainstorm a redesign?
JOHN: no pressure though.
HARRY: !!!
Oh, that’s why! That’s cute.
JADE: theres something i need to tell you
don’thavefuckedadogdon’thavefuckedadogdon’thavefuckedadog
JADE: john... i have a daughter
JADE: shes almost harry andersons age
JOHN: ...
JOHN: ...
JOHN: you have a daughter.
Named Yiffy?
ROSE: It was at this point that Jade came to me.
ROSE: I could understand her pain quite acutely, and so...
ROSE: I agreed to carry a child on her behalf.
KANAYA: .
ROSE: ... Without telling Kanaya.
Without-
Kanaya is your WIFE. You LIVE WITH HER. Even ignoring the question of why you’d keep 9 months of pregnancy from your wife, how? Kanaya would have been living with humans for years at that point and she’s literally in charge of reproduction don’t tell me she thought Rose just got fat for a while and then lost the weight really fast.
ROSE: I'm... not sure why I made that decision.
ROSE: I regret not telling Kanaya, of course.
ROSE: But I can't say that I regret going through with it.
ROSE: At the time, it didn't feel as though the deception was even all that prolonged. The whole affair was... short.
ROSE: Purely physical, and nothing more.
ROSE: John, there isn't a father.
ROSE: Jade and I are the sole parents of this child.
JOHN: oh.
JOHN: ...
JOHN: OH.
JOHN: oh i'm so sorry, i didn't th-
ROSE: That's quite alright John, although you might like to direct that apology more towards your sister.
ROSE: All I will say is that if you would like to take up the particulars with us,
ROSE: Some *other* time,
Actually, if John doesn’t know that Jade has a male dog’s genitals due to a fusion accident, I’d love to know what that all-caps OH means. What does he think happened, that Jade and Rose managed to have a baby?
JOHN: so... how did you hide the pregnancy?
ROSE: Oh, that was simple.
ROSE: Jade's genes being, as they are, part canine, the gestation period was substantially reduced.
OH NO
Yiffy is literally a furry, isn’t she? Moreso that Jade, she’s a full-on “Can be naked onscreen and it’s okay because she’s covered in fur” dog girl.
JOHN: i think i understand everything so f
VRISSY: WAIT!!!!!!!!
VRISSY: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME
VRISSY: NOT ONLY DO I H8VE A SISTER
VRISSY: 8UT YOU NAMED
VRISSY: YOUR ****SECRET CHILD****
VRISSY: ********YIFFY********????????
Vrissy makes an excellent point.
ROSE: We didn't call her Yiffy.
ROSE: That would be a quite ridiculous thing with which to burden a child.
ROSE: Her full name is Yiffany Longstocking Lalonde Harley.
Vrissy looks as though she is about to shit the belltower they are standing in, brick by brick.
ROSE: It was, in hindsight, a monumentally terrible decision acting as the final chapter in a long series of novels, each one full of progressively more terrible decisions than the last.
ROSE: But that is the name that we decided upon.
Oh, wait a second. Vriska changed Vriska Maryam-Lalonde to Vrissy, and changed Harry Anderson to just Harry. So obviously she’s going to rename Yiffy to literally anything else, then rename Tavros, and then we’ve got a new set of four kids as Vriska leaves to do something else. That’s what going to happen, right? Right? Please?
ROSE: You have to understand... this whole situation ended up playing out a bit like an ironic game of chicken between the two of us.
ROSE: Something that far outstripped anything that the Strider fraternity could have produced in their wildest, most jpegged creative wet dreams.
ROSE: But in the end that triumph of irony came back to bite us in the fucking ass, as irony is wont to do.
ROSE: There was absolutely no possibility of us casually letting you all know that, by the way, we had had a secret daughter named Yiffany Longstocking.
ROSE: At least, not right away.
ROSE: But carapacian change-of-name paperwork is so complex and circuitous that, eventually, keeping quiet forever just seemed like the more reasonable option.
This is, even for Homestuck, monumentally stupid. You named your daughter Yiffany Longstocking as a joke and then kept the child secret because you were embarrassed. You two are awful fucking parents. You are the worst parents in the entire series, and that includes Bro Strider and the spider that made Vriska feed it children.
And we’re literally at the point where the writing is bad and the joke is how bad the writing is. This isn’t enjoyable to read; you can’t make a bad B-movie My Immortal fanfic on purpose.
Even now, Yiffy is likely being held at spoonpoint
I feel like “Jade and Rose have a secret daughter named Yiffany Longstocking” can be a joke or it can be drama but maybe not both at the same time.
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An open letter;
(Possible trigger warning)
I’m not even sure why I’m writing this, maybe because this theme of abuse has be something I’ve been experiencing as a third party, the person removing the victim this time, you know the role many of my friends filled within our tumultuous relationship... maybe it’s because my friends abuser is now threatening and harassing me for helpingher leave... maybe it’s because I’ve finally found my therapeutic dosage of lithium, am in a clear mind and are therefore able to reflect properly for the first time in my life... or maybe it’s because this is not an apology, I mean maybe it is if you had only been a serial cheat, but the truth is you fractured my skull and cut me open with a knife, so this is not a fucking apology. Also I’d rather rip my own eyes out of my skull, smash them with a hammer, and then inject the liquid into my ass than actually engage you in any kind of conversation, so knowing that this is the one platform you can still check for me on, I’m going to post this here... Its about time I had my say without putting myself in physical danger.
You would think I wouldn’t have an essay to correct your 3 lines of a nothing apology, but here we are I guess.
This kind of self deprecating “I wasn’t good enough for you” narrative is truly infuriating, and not because you were actually good enough for me but because of the very reasons you proved yourself not be “not good enough”. You weren’t undeserving of me because you didn’t work, I am physically incapable of doing so myself and I didn’t fall in love with you because you came across mad motivated. You weren’t undeserving of me because you took drugs, drank like a fish or smoked like a chimney, we were both purposefully killing our selves in the same way. You weren’t undeserving of me at all, until you fucked my best friend in the bathroom and collectively gaslit me into wondering if I was imagining the whole thing, and slowly but systematically broke down my confidence and support network away from me. I want this to be very clear; the reason you do not deserve me or any other decent human being is because, you are an abuser, you abuse people.
I was barely a whole person when I met you. I was barely an adult. I had lived through so much already, and had been abused in every area of my existence. I was easy pickings to you. The issue was you were not a pawn to me, a player in any game, or any of that. To me you were this fascinating, beautiful soul, to me you were someone who needed my love who needed someone to support you and I couldn’t believe that you chose me to fill that role. I was freshly 18 that month, and I had just had a flat mate steal £3k and kill my kitten.
I weighed all of 63lbs that night you lost the plot on me because I didn’t want to go to Big Red to watch that actual cunt of a waitress smile at me as she gave you lap dances, it’s not even a dance joint it was a fucking bar. You allowed other people to emotionally abuse me with you for months up until this point and I just didn’t want to go, all I wanted was the keys and I would of gone home alone and gone to bed. Why you feel the need to publicly humiliate me again instead of just leaving it? You couldn’t just go be adulterous without me watching and hurting, so you followed me home, screaming at me the whole time. You told me I was pathetic, you hated me, I should just kill myself- on a bus on a Saturday night, from the bar I worked in, in soho, back to our place near Caledonian Road. I was so unstable anyway, undiagnosed autism, misdiagnosed mental health issues, on the wrong if any medication, deep within the throws of an addiction and eating disorder... you. I couldn’t take you verbally ripping my heart out anymore when I decided that throwing myself from our 3rd story window would hurt less. The fact I could of died isn’t what made you grab me and stop me jumping, no in fact you told me you don’t care if I kill my self as long as it’s not in the flat, you were much more concerned with the amount of drugs in the flat and the prison opposite our window. At that point you threw me full pelt across the other side of the room, all 63lbs of me flew through the air like a paper aeroplane and smashed directly into your guitar. You know your beloved custom Les Paul? The headstock came off, and at that very moment despite the fact you were the one who threw me, my life was the one in danger. You started strangling me and threatening to have men come down to London to gang rape my then 14 year old sister. It gets a little fuzzy, that’s what your brain does when you experience potentially life ending trauma. I do know I ended up with stitches in my lips and hands, that you fractured my right eye socket- that I still suffer issues with to this day- and had black bruising covering my entire body like a bus had hit me.
For a couple of years there my brain completely blocked out important details of that night, and a lot of our relationship. Don’t worry though periodically I have the real type of flashback where I relive these events and I come back to reality remembering more than I ever wanted to. I’m yet to even touch on the fact that whilst I may of been able to escape you in waking life, my dreams are perpetually stuck in this horrific PTSD dream land, a town that is a mash up of all the places I’ve been traumatised in my life, the place you eternally reside inside my head to traumatise me whilst I desperately need to rest. You haven’t really left my life despite the efforts I have made to avoid you (I think I’ve seen you once, from a distance once at Download 2 years ago, my heart fell out my ass, and I dragged Camilla in another direction) I have only 2 dreams in 6 years that haven’t included you chasing me down to finish what you started and kill me or keep me captive. But that’s what trauma does, and oh how you traumatised me.
I really loved you though, that’s why I stayed, and those couple times I tried to leave before I came back. I loved you so unconditionally that it took me realising that everyone else around us was so complicit that they’d help you hide by body. To this very day I cannot believe a man, a male roommate, walked in on you pinning me into a sofa by my neck, with both your planted knees on top of my chest, full weight suffocating me, biting the end of my nose until it was blackened and he had the audacity me I needed to calm down. I have to label the guy the world biggest pussy in my head so I don’t get wound up about it.
I wasn’t perfect, I can never be perfect, I have more imperfections than most. I am severely mentally and physically unwell- I sure as hell am a pain in the ass to love- however I cannot actually think of a damn thing I did to deserve constant unending emotional abuse, threatens and follow through of physical abuse and then after I left stalking and harassment. I am difficult but I am not deserving of abuse and that’s all you gave me in the end... unless of course you “needed your baby girl to suck your dick” - that was the only time you were ever nice to me, and I know because I recently read back a bunch of our texts and you flipped between “I hate you, I’m gonna kill you/kill your self” to “I need my beautiful girl to come and suck my dick I love you so much” is actually fucking insane. - Should I bring up the fact you would bang pathetic girls on the scene and then dicknotise them into stalking and harassing me with you? Because... what I had the audacity to leave a man, of over 6ft tall, who would become violent to my 5ft 63lbs self?
So yeah, you didn’t deserve me, but not because of any self deprecating attention seeking reason but because you’re a sociopath, who seems to take pleasure in fucking with vulnerable women.
Am I happy? Now that’s a fucking difficult one to answer.
I ended up homeless on and off for a year. Despite the homelessness I had suffered before this was worse because of the place I was in mentally.
You caused me to develop complex PTSD.
You caused me to have a 3 year long psychotic break.
You caused me to live in secure supported housing, where I was prayed upon by other residents.
You caused me to fall victim to abuse within the system
Not sure if you know this but our mental health services sucks ass, after leaving you I had a delightful therapist that would text me telling to kill my self and would tell me you were right to abuse me.
But I got one thing from our relationship, I fine tuned my “four Fs” ...I no longer freeze or fight in the face of difficulty... I developed an ability to fawn.
Dead ends are no longer in my eyeline, I will metaphorically straight on walk through someone else’s house to get where I need to be, I will jump the fence, break the locks and out run any guard dog. I may fall down but I’m never out.
When I was diagnosed with multiple chronic illnesses and essentially lived in hospital for 3 years, even when I thought to end my life it was weighed out by the thought of “how do I get to a place we’re I can do even 5% of what I want? What do I have to change, manifest?”.
You see if you could only temporarily break me but not stop me then why the hell would I let my own mind and body do that? That ability to fawn came with an ability to find a middle path, to be diplomatic. That ability to fawn gave me the patience to understand medical text and use that to access the right care. ~ I am actually thinking of starting a medical degree just to prove I can ~ I am now 98lbs and healthy for my size and stature, I now have a home with a housing association who like me so much they have me a lifetime partner agreement, meaning I will never be homeless again. I have been clean 7 whole goddamn years and 2 months. I have the most beautiful empathic cat, 2 foster dogs and an incredibly patient partner, who has known me before you had ever entered my life. I am as healthy as someone in my position can be, I still struggle with the anorexic thoughts but I eat everyday of the fucking week now.
I am not “happy” as happy is an emotion and emotions are fleeting but I am content in living for the simple life I have fought ever so hard for. I am strong, and determined and constantly fucking working on making more for myself. I’m proud of myself.
All I have to say is get therapy. If you’re really sorry work on yourself enough to be able to apologise properly before you fuck my day up by rising your head again for this weakness. I can’t say I don’t have morbid curiosity, because that’s me all over, however I’m much more determined to keep all that I have work for mentally, emotionally, and physically safe. For that reason I would never in my right medicated mind talk it out with you, email you back or seek you out. I’m sorry, it is what it is.
You can not damage someone irreparably both mentally and physically and think “I’m sorry for being a cunt” even close to cuts it. You are mentally unbalanced, in a way not even I can relate to.
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home. 3
(part 1) (part 2)
summary: michael used to be a rockstar in his hometown. but somehow he blacked out, and now he’s in an unknown city. in this part, luke and his friends try to get to know michael, who is going to find out more details about his past.
word count: 2,5k
taglist: this part is dedicated to lou @cliiffords thank you for being there for me and being the sweetest soul <3 // @twilightmomentswithyou @babyoria @phantastic1daf @calumspeachy @lukeysdimples @talksopretty @wildflowrhood (message me to be tagged/ remove ur tag)
“I say it now, and I’ll say it again. It would have been better with pineapple.”
Calum’s remark made Luke giggle. He was sitting between Michael, who had pushed himself the furthest away from the others, on the edge of the seat, and Calum. Ashton was on the other side of Luke’s red couch. They had all finished their pizzas, after an animated discussion between Luke and Calum about their favourite show which was airing on TV. Ashton and Michael had both stayed silent the whole time, quietly eating their pizza slices.
Michael wasn’t feeling welcome since Luke’s friends were there. They seemed nice, but he was too shy to talk to them, and his thoughts were focused on what he had seen earlier. His bruises, and the fact his chest started hurting a lot. And of course, the tattoo. He stared absent-mindedly at the screen, his knees under his chin, chewing on his last slice of pizza. He was getting sleepy, but his brain was thinking, and over thinking. He didn’t even know where he was going to sleep that night. He felt like Luke had already done so much for him, and didn’t want to ask him if he could stay at his place.
He suddenly noticed how loud his chewing got, as everyone in the room had stopped talking. An awkward silence filled the air. Apparently Luke and Calum gave up on their debate about the main character and their annoying love interest. Calum put his head back on a pillow, and yawned loudly.
“So Michael” Calum suddenly said to break the silence. “Tell us about yourself.”
Michael stopped chewing. What the hell was he supposed to say? No one had talked to him all evening, and suddenly he got interesting? Luke’s voice made him finally face them, and he noticed only Ashton wasn’t looking at him, somehow really focused on the TV.
“Yeah, you can tell us anything you’d like” Luke said, suddenly putting his hand on Michael’s knee, softly squeezing it to encourage him. “Anything you remember. Maybe we can help.”
Luke’s warm touch made Michael blush. He didn’t really want to talk, but he knew he needed to. Maybe Luke was right, maybe his friends could help; but he needed to talk first. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. He didn’t know what he was trying to remember, reluctant to talk mostly because of Ashton’s presence and embarrassing silence. Though, Luke’s positive encouragement gave him enough motivation to say the first thing that went to his mind.
“I remember roses. I-um... I really like them” Michael mumbled, looking down at his bandaged hand.
Luke smiled. “He really does. He cut himself on one of them when I found him by Adam’s garden this morning.”
“Adam’s garden! What the hell!” Calum repeated right away, shocked. “What were you doing there, mate? Everyone in town knows it’s private property. One day I was walking Duke, and I accidentally stared at one of his lilac bushes for too long. I wasn’t even in his garden, and the guy almost killed me. What were you thinking?”
Michael chuckled at Calum’s little story. “I don’t know” he said. “I just... woke up there. It was a pretty garden, though. I just wanted... I just really liked the roses.”
“Well, that’s fucking weird” Calum declared, laughing. “Isn’t it, Ash?”
Michael felt his stomach ache as he looked over at Ashton, who just shrugged, still not looking at them, as his eyes were glued to the shaver commercial on the TV screen.
“I don’t know” he uttered. “You really don’t remember anything else than roses?” Ashton mocked.
His agressive tone made Michael shift closer to the edge of the couch. He wanted to get Ashton’s reaction. Him being suspicious towards the tattooed boy was, after all, understandable, as they only knew each other for an hour or so. But at least Calum was friendly towards him, unlike Ashton who wasn’t even trying to be nice. Luke was sitting awkwarldy, moving around his seat, lost in his thoughts. Maybe he wanted to talk about Michael’s nightmare, his bruises, his tattoo. But a quick glance at Michael, who warned him with his eyes, told him not to. It was something he’d better keep for himself. Deciding not to answer Ashton’s rude question, Michael felt like he had to be alone for a moment.
“Is there... Can I go to your bathroom, Luke?” He asked bashfully.
“Sure! Just go to the kitchen, and it’ll be on your right.” Luke voiced softly. “You okay?”
Michael smiled, touched by Luke’s concern. “I’m fine, thank you. Don’t worry.” He got up, his smile remaining on his face until he reached the door. Luke was so nice to him, he didn’t deserve his kindness. The blonde boy’s worry towards Michael made his heart beat oddly faster. Michael opened the door, and reached the hallway. The second he left the living room, he overheard Ashton’s voice; He froze. Knowing he shouldn’t, but doing it anyway, Michael stayed close to the door to hear what they were talking about, as he felt the conversation would definitely be about him.
“Why the fuck are you that nice to him, Luke? He’s just a homeless guy you found on the street, who got drunk or something. He’s probably looking for something to steal in your house, and then he’ll leave right away. I don’t want him to take advantage of you.”
Michael squeezed his fist, his nails digging in his palm. Apparently, Ashton just thought he was a depraved thief. Luke’s voice got angry.
“Say what you want, Ash, he’s really lost. And I want to be nice to him. If he does steal my stuff, then it’ll be my fault, and I’ll only be able to blame myself. Being nice never hurts, you know. I want to help him. I want to know... his story. I feel like the fact we met... he’s not just a random stranger.” Luke’s words floated in a brief silence.
“He’s right Ash”. It was Calum’s voice, this time. “Let’s give this guy a chance. He doesn’t look like a criminal. Who knows what he’s been through? Plus, I like mysterious stuff like this. What if we can help him find his home back? It’s exciting!”
Michael’s chest warmed up, despite the pain, as he heard how Calum and Luke defended him. He decided he had already stayed way too long behind that door, and discreetly left to the bathroom. He walked past the kitchen and saw a door on his right, probably the bathroom door, where he was supposed to go. But something caught his eye, on the left. An open door, probably leading to Luke’s bedroom. Knowing entering a stranger’s privacy like this wasn’t right, Michael however felt like a weird attraction to what he mind find in that room. He softly pushed the door.
It was a baby blue room, from the walls to the bedsheets, except for the white curtains which were softly glowing, reflecting the moonlight. Michael walked in, and saw something in the corner of the room. A blue gittery guitar. Michael’s eyes widened. Something pushed him to take it in his hands. He stepped towards the instrument, picked it up, his fingers brushing over the strings. Without thinking, he sat on the edge of Luke’s bed and started playing a few chords. His mind told him what to do. It was like an automatic impulse. A melody came to him, and he started humming softly. After a few seconds, he found words to sing, too.
“If I can dream long enough... You’d tell me I’d be just fine...
I’ll be just fine...”
Michael suddenly heard steps in the hallway. He stopped playing and quickly turned around, to see Luke, Calum and Ashton standing behind them, in the doorframe, the faint, yellowish light of the hallway shining behind them. They all looked surprised, but Luke’s eyes were sparkling. Michael immediatly got up, putting the guitar back in the corner of the room.
“I’m sorry I’m-” he said hastily. “I didn’t want to touch your stuff, I’m sorry...”
“I didn’t know you could play the guitar!” Luke told him playfully. “That’s another thing we now know about you, Mikey.”
The nickname made Michael blush harder. He wanted to disappear, Luke’s friends’ presence making him even more embarrassed.
“You’re... you’re not mad at me? I swear, I was not planning on...”
Luke interrupted him by walking towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I’m happy you found out something new about yourself!”
Michael grinned. He did indeed remember he knew how to play the guitar. It was probably important, to know who he used to be. Holding Luke’s guitar made him feel something, but he couldn’t explain what.
“You’re skilled, mate! Be careful Luke, he might be better than you” Calum’s laugh echoed from the doorframe. Luke answered his friend’s comment by sticking a middle finger up to him.
“It’s getting late. Maybe we should go, Cal” Ashton’s voice abruptly stated, coming from the hallway. Michael’s heart dropped. He hadn’t noticed Ashton was already close to the door, wanting to leave. Did Ashton really believe he wanted to steal Luke’s guitar? Couldn’t he just be given a chance?
“Maybe we should” Calum said, patting Luke’s back as a silent apology for leaving, before putting his jacket on. Luke seemed devastated. The tan boy smiled at Michael. “See ya later, Michael. It was nice getting to know you. I hope you’ll find... I mean...” Calum was looking for the right words, but Michael still was thankful for his friendly goodbye. The situation was surreal, after all.
“Thank you, Calum. It was nice to know you too” Michael said softly, smiling at him.
Luke left Michael in his room to say goodbye to his friends in the hallway. The bruised boy heard Luke saying a muttered “Please, you guys, stay”, but Ashton’s answer was inaudible. Their voices faded away, and the door closed.
Footsteps. Luke was standing in the bedroom’s doorframe again, leaning against the wall. Michael looked at him; the cute way he stood there, one foot awkwardly twisted against the other, arms crossed. He noticed how tired and sad his host looked. He wasn’t able to express how thankful he was for Luke, to have spent all of his time to take care of him. Maybe Luke was his guardian angel, either way, he saved him. Michael suddenly looked away, as he realized he had probably been staring at Luke for too long. He cleared his throat and desperatly tried to find something to say, to break the silence.
“I-uh... Your friends are nice” he muttered. Luke smiled and entered the room to sit on the bed. His guest shyly sat down next to him.
“They really are. I’m sorry about Ashton. He’s only trying to protect me.”
Michael stayed silent and got once again distracted by Luke’s fingers touching his rings.
“It’s fine” Michael shrugged. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here, so... Ashton has the right to wonder who I am, or what I want.”
“I didn’t talk to Ashton about your nightmare, or your bruises. I didn’t want you to feel... uncomfortable.” Luke whispered softly, which made Michael realize all of a sudden, how bad he felt for Luke, a poor guy who just wanted to help someone clean his hand, and ended up welcoming a stranger in his house, with ugly bruises and a weird, unbelievable story. Maybe Michael did just get drunk. Maybe he was that worthless. He didn’t want to waste Luke’s time anymore.
“I’m so sorry, Luke” Michael suddenly said.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because... I’m a burden. I have nowhere to go. And I touched your stuff without even asking you. Ashton is right. I’m a horrible person, you don’t know me. Maybe I should leave.”
Michael stood up, upset. He wanted to leave; he wanted to scream. He hated himself for what he had done in Luke’s house, disrespecting his host who had only been nice to him. Luke stopped him by taking his arm, the cold contact of his rings on Michael’s skin making him jump.
“Stay. Please.”
Luke’s voice had changed. It suddenly sounded desperate, and horribly sad.
“You’re not a burden. Stay. Please, don’t leave me alone.”
Michael turned around to look at him. Luke had tears in his eyes, and hadn’t let go of his arm, squeezing it even harder. Michael didn’t make a move. He had been so focused on his problems and trying to remember what happened to him, he hadn’t even wondered what Luke’s life was like.
“I... I don’t have anyone. I mean... Calum and Ashton are amazing, but... They don’t know. I’ve been feeling so lonely... And they left. Again. They never stay.” Luke’s voice didn’t reflect bitterness, only sadness and exhaustion. “I’ve never felt such a connection with anyone as much as I do with you Michael. I know we don’t know each other. But I want to get to know you. I want to help you. Please.”
Michael took Luke’s hand in his, and slowly sat back down next to him. Little did Luke know Michael felt exaclty the same about him, despite having met him less than a day earlier.
“Okay. I’ll stay."
“Thank you” they both said at the same time. Luke pulled him in a soft, warm hug again. They stayed like this for a while, holding on to each other. Michael sighed, he felt so right in Luke’s arms. The pain in his chest almost faded away, his heartbeat in synchrony with Luke’s. After a moment, he opened his eyes. Luke stretched his arms and layed down on his back, falling on his bed.
“Are the red roses your favourite, rose boy?” Luke asked out of the blue.
“I think so. They’re pretty.” Michael responded, watching how Luke’s face beamed in the moonlight breaking through the window, and the way his dimples formed as he smiled to himself. Silence gently fell again. Michael wanted to lay down so badly next to Luke, but he was too shy to do so.
“You have a pretty voice” Luke said. “Will you sing me a song, tomorrow? If you want to, of course.” Michael blushed so hard, he was worried Luke could hear his heart beating hard in his painful chest. He still was so embarrassed about the guitar incident.
“Okay, I’ll try” he whispered shyly. He wanted to know more about Luke. “For how long have you been playing?”
“A few years now. But I only play for myself. No... shows or, band or whatever” Luke shrugged. His remark swiftly gave Michael an intense flashback. He remembered he was... at a concert. Right before he blacked out.
“I think I was at my own concert. Before... you know...”
Luke sat up, suddenly intrigued. “Your own concert? You mean, you’re a musician?” Luke asked, sparkles in his eyes. Michael hesitantly nodded. “Oh my god! Do you remember where you were? There’s no big stage in this small town. You have to go... at least 50 miles north, to Montfort. The biggest city in this area.”
“Maybe that’s where I’m from?” Michael whispered, drawing circles on Luke’s blue sheets, even though the name of Montfort didn’t ring a bell, at all.
“You’ll have to sing me a song, now I know you’re a damn pro” Luke laughed. “Was... your nightmare about your concert?”
Michael tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t remember anything about his nightmare now, apart from the violent fear he had felt during his dream. He was so tired. Without thinking, he stretched out and lied down next to Luke, their faces a few inches apart. They stared at each other. Michael could drown in Luke’s ocean eyes.
“I don’t know. I want to forget.” Michael whispered. They were both falling asleep, slowly. Michael felt safe next to Luke. His nightmare was far, far away now.
“Michael?”
“Mh?”
“I promise you we’ll find your home.” Luke searched blindly for Michael’s hand in the dark, and attached his pinky to his.
Michael sighed, his head slowly falling against Luke’s shoulder. He felt so right. Peaceful. He knew he’d fall asleep in a matter of seconds.
“Pinky promise.”
#i wrote this in less than a day i'm so excited!!!!#i hope it's good tho lmao#i'm so soft for muke i did my BEST#muke#fics#muke clemmings#5sos#5sos fanfiction#5sos fanfic#5 seconds of summer#michael clifford#luke hemmings#calum hood#ashton irwin
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Okay. Time for my ramblings. You're all free to not read a word of this but I just needed to put my thoughts out there. So. Going into s2, my only reason for watching the show was seeing Alex Manes (bc Tyler is one of my all time favourite actors and also just ALEX MANES). But after seeing the promo and fan chatter before the premier I admit getting my hopes up and becoming a little more open to the entire show as a whole again. I had hoped that s2 would be a huge improvement in terms of writing, consistency, good representation and overall storytelling. Anyways, here’s just some thoughts I’ve had after the first episode if you care to read it. I've left the Malex (and Maria) thoughts to the end bc I wanted to speak about the entire episode first. The Malex part is right at the end if anyone is reading this and only wants to read that part.
Firstly, the episode felt very disconnected. I know there was a time jump but that also left so many questions unanswered.
Kyle and Alex are well aware of the alien secret, so it made no sense that they were in the dark about Rosa being alive and Max being dead. I would've thought that both of them would've been made aware of it immediately.
This may be more of a personal preference but I've always been more interested in sci-fi aspects of the show since I always find supernatural elements on shows to become repetitive and far fetched (yes I know it's supernatural but I've always liked when there was a scientific or logical explanation behind something). Ep1 (and I know Carina said this season would explore supernatural elements and not the sci-fi aspects of it) hinted a very big supernatural storyline which I wasn't too keen on- it just gave off some big vampire diaries 'the other side' vibes. I really wish they would've explores a more unique and original storyline rather than something so repetitive with regards to Max.
Now for the science and little sci-fi parts, I know they're strained for time so there's a lot that they have to leave out but most of the science seemed far fetched or rather lacking any good grounding explanation. I get that it's a show but I would've liked for it to have made some sense rather than the random stuff Michael and Liz would say that seemingly came out of thin air. Especially when they were having their science Bro moments and interacting with substances etc- where are these substances from? What to they do? How did you get it? Idk maybe I'm being overly obsessive over this but it irks me bc I always lose interest when I can't coherently follow a storyline with logic
Rosa being back. I don't have much to say on this. The sister dynamic is kinda cute. I really don't like this weird supernatural connection thing she has with Max. Like I said, very vampire diaries like and it's just not making sense (maybe I didn't pay close enough attention idk). Also, can we get some clarity on her age. She was 19 when she died. So she should be 29 in the present day. But she mentioned something about being the hottest 31 year old when Liz told her to get a license in California. So what's up with that.
Isobel pregnancy : Yeah there's a lot I could say here. I'm assuming they're trying to do a storyline on abortion and a woman's right to her own body which I would be eager to see but at the same time, Isobel being pregnant with her dead abusive rapist's baby seems a lot like it was done for drama (sigh). It also has me wondering how since it was clear in s1 that Isobel didn't want children while Noah did- obviously she may have changed her mind after their reconciliation after she came out of the pod and also bc I accidents happen (do condoms even work with aliens???).
Now for the Malex and Maria part of it:
Since Alex was not aware of Max dying, wouldn't he have then made an effort to speak to Michael again in those two weeks since the finale. I would understand him wanting to give Michael space if he had known about Max dying but since he didn't know, did he just accept that Michael left him waiting at the trailer and leave it at that until after Noah's funeral? That just doesn't make sense to me but moving on
So Michael says that Alex told him he was going to leave the airforce to play music. Lol lots to get into here. Firstly, kinda strange that Alex would have told him that specifically that night in the trailer. Also, I was under the impression that what we were shown on screen was all that there was in that interaction. I don't see at which point Alex could've mentioned him leaving the airforce before Michael had to run out. Secondly, Alex leaving the airforce to play music? That just seems hella out of character and frankly completely unrealistic. Alex has spent the last 10 years gaining different skills, learning new things about himself, evolving and changing as a person. While he may have always had this dream about making music the fact is most people end up studying something or doing something in a different direction than their teenage self wanted. Alex is no different. While he may have wanted to leave the airforce it just doesn't seem plausible that he'd want to explore an entirely new career path as a musician. It would've made more sense for him to go into a career with cyber security and his skills in hacking, coding and programming instead. Also, unless he's got hell money from somewhere it's just completely unrealistic. He's a veteran (there are so many homeless, unemployed, uninsured, struggling veterans) who surely would need a stable income. It just feels like it's some a random storyline to have when there's been no indication of it, and it's completely out of character for Alex to decide to pursue music after 10 years in the airforce when we aren't even sure if he's done anything related to it in the last 10 years. Maybe I'm being harsh because personally I would've liked Alex to pursue something with the skills he gained in the airforce and also bc I rarely believe anyone is the same person with the same dreams and passions they had when they were a teenager. I mean, we all grow, evolve and change and that's okay. I would've really liked for Alex storyline to have been along those lines- taking what he's learned out of something he didn't necessarily want and taking control of who he is with those skills and his future (apparently in order to be a captain and also to be a code breaker Alex would've need to have gone to college while in the airforce). Idk maybe I'm bias bc I absolutely love seeing BAMF Alex Manes and how smart he is when he's working and code breaking.
Hmm Alex has a house. Like an actual house. And not a single person in the fandom knew this. In fact if Carina hadn't clarified on Twitter, we'd all be confused as hell. Literally everyone thought he lived at the cabin and rightfully so. It also makes me question why Alex had been at the cabin the day Kyle was there if he doesn't live at the cabin. But anyways small details. I'm trying not to be petty. I also really would like to know how Michael knows where Alex lives hmmm
I absolutely loved that Alex's first thought was to give Michael a guitar bc he remembers what he lost when Jesse ruined his hand. I am HERE for Alex Manes' kindness and wholesomeness.
Alex has PTSD. He would never be sitting with his back towards an entry point and music blaring loudly while he didn't have his prosthetic on. Carina responded on Twitter saying his PTSD is from childhood and not the war. I can't really understand how the war and losing a limb would not affect him and his existing PTSD at all. But again, I'll overlook this inconsistency
Michael's little confrontation speech to Alex- totally get it. It makes a lot of sense from Michael's perspective. I do however still have an issue with this thing of Alex 'leaving'. The ONLY time Alex actively left was when he enlisted. Any time after that was beyond his control. He was in the military. He had no choice. I really wish we could at some point see how all of this affected Alex instead of constantly seeing it from a one- sided Michael perspective.
And now Maria and Michael. Just a few words. What the fuck. I say all of this as someone who absolutely believes Malex shouldn't be together right now and who is fully on board with them just being friends right now:
- As someone who loved Maria in the first season and as a woman of colour, I fucking hate her storyline and what they're making her character do. It was cringe and desperate and humiliating for her to be running after Michael after one kiss. And also, SO out of character for her. Maria Deluca is her own saviour and would never run after someone who behaved the way Michael had in that ep. She would abso-fucking-lutely not chase after a man and put herself out there in such a desperate way like that.
- Secondly, has she just forgotten Alex exists? This is so not the Maria we know. Chasing after a man for something when he's not giving anything back in return and not even bothering to speak to Alex or attempt any sort of communication with him before she continues pursuing Michael. It makes no sense. I only see the Maria hate escalating at this point and I don't blame anyone for it. At this point she 100% deserves it. It's so so out of character for her not to have spoken to Alex and to continue pursuing Michael before speaking to Alex.
Honestly I've said it since the start- I hate love triangles and this one in particular rubs me the wrong way for so many reasons. I honestly don't see how we can redeem Maria's character after this mess. The whole Michael and Maria thing is just messy (and not in a cool dramatic TV show way), and is for a lot of us straight up character assassination for both Michael and Maria. I'm just so put off by both of their characters. If they were adamant about this storyline, I wish they'd done it and left Alex out from the start (I said Kylex rights!).
In conclusion, it's a shitshow. The show is just all over the place and the writing doesn't seem to have improved from the inconsistencies and plot holes. There's a lot more I could say but this was all I thought about right now for that episode. I also have so many thoughts on what Carina has recently said but I'm not in the right space of mind to address that rn. She's hell problematic lmao. But anyways, going forward, I'm just here for my Tyler Blackburn and watching him kill it as Alex Manes and I'm kinda really excited to see him with his new love interest.
#roswell nm#roswell new mexico#rnm s2#malex#michael x alex#alex manes#michael guerin#maria deluca#michael x maria#carina adly mackenzie#miluca#liz ortecho#kylex#kyle valenti#max evans#rosa ortecho#isobel evans#malex fic#flint manes#michael and Maria#forlex#alex x forest
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Babie Crue (2/?)
Pairings: The Dirt!Motley Crue X OC!Reader. Eventual MGK!Tommy Lee X OC, Possible Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx X OC, Dad!Motley Crue
Warnings: Cussing, drug use, drinking
Description: Cam eventually finds solace with Tommy’s family, who pity her after she reveals why she’s homeless with a newborn baby. Two months of peace later, Cam has a steady job as a waitress and Motley Crue is officially formed. Tommy starts to invite Cam out to their shows at Whisky A Go Go, and she eventually decides that a break is much needed. Of course, she shows up the night Doc enters the picture and Elektra starts pressuring for the band to go on tour.
~~~~~~~
Tommy, Mick, and Nikki found Cam about half an hour after she left the apartment. With some heavy convincing, Cam finally agreed the best choice was to live with Tommy at his parent’s house. When the Lee’s heard Cam’s story, recounted quickly and embellished with a lot of ‘fucks’ by none other than Tommy himself, they thankfully welcomed her into their home with open arms. Tommy scrounged up whatever he could money wise to help buy the basics for Grace, and was all too ready to give up his room and bunk on the couch. The band and Tommy’s parents helped find Cam a job within her first week of living in her new space.
In the time it took to get Cam set up comfortably, the band had found their front man, Vince Neil, and started performing at a club on the Sunset Strip called Whisky A Go Go. It was definitely a rocky start based on what was heard from Tommy when he called Cam at work after the shows, but she knew that if anyone deserved to be famous, it was Tommy.
“Cam, you should totally come to a show! Athena and my parents could watch Gracie and you can see your knight in shining armor in action!” Tommy yelled through the phone, helping Cam hear him over the loud thumping of the music in the background. Cam chuckled and ducked under a tray that a co worker was carrying.
“Tommy, you know I’d love to, but I feel like the second I leave Gracie, she’s going to get taken away from me. I can’t lose the only piece of me I have left because I was out partying with my best friend and his band.” A sigh escaped Cam’s lips as she ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. Cam was grateful of her boss for allowing long phone calls, but they were only to happen over her twenty minute break.
“Hey, Cam. Don’t think like that. You and I both know my family and I will fight tooth and fucking nail to protect you and that adorable fucking baby. I understand your fear, but I really want you to be around before we go fucking through the roof!” Tommy’s excitement made Cam smile sadly. She noticed a stern look coming from her manager, which led her to glance at her watch.
“Tommy, I have to go. My break is almost up. I’ll consider coming to one of your shows, alright?”
“Yeah, babe! Have a good night, alright? I’ll see you later, sweets!” Cam muttered a quick goodbye and hung up the phone, stumbling through the crowded kitchen and heading out to the dining room.
“Hello. My name is Cameo, and I’ll be your server this evening. Could I get you guys started with something to drink?” She muttered her spiel, quickly scribbling down the family’s drink orders. Checking on her other patrons, Cam threw crumpled bills into the cash register, returning change and receipts to departing groups, bidding them a farewell as they headed towards the door.
By the time she was able to leave, Cam had accumulated a decent amount of tips. She was good at her job, despite customers swearing at her for wrong orders that she accidentally swapped with another table. As she made her way home in the dark, discreetly brandishing a knife Nikki had gifted her, Cam thought about Tommy’s offer.
‘Maybe a show would be nice. I mean it’s just one show, and we’ve been safe for two months. I deserve a break.’ Cam’s thoughts were swimming so fervently around her head that she almost didn’t hear the shuffling behind her.
Hailing a taxi, Cam gave the driver Tommy’s address, only glancing at the person who followed her once a barrier was placed between them. Looking vaguely familiar, the car sped off before Cam could distinguish who had followed her. Throwing a twenty at the driver, grumbling at the instant decrease of food and diaper funds, Cam quickly ran inside her safe haven, involuntarily slamming the door behind her.
“Cameo? Is that you, dear?” Tommy’s mother, Voula, called from her place in the living room.
“Yeah, Voula, it’s me. Was Gracie any trouble?” Cam asked as she made her way to the older woman, getting comfortable on the couch after hanging up her coat and bag.
“She’s an angel, Cam. You should be proud to be her mother.” A warm smile spread across Voula’s face.
“Believe me, I am. I have a favor to ask you though: do you think you could watch Gracie longer than usual this weekend? I really want to watch Tommy’s band play, especially because he seems so excited about it.”
“Of course, dear. You deserve a break.” Thanking her, Cam hugged the woman who took her in and bid her a goodnight as they both turned in to sleep. Stripping her uniform, Cam silently changed into her sleepwear and looked at her daughter sleeping peacefully in the bassinet Athena had dug up from the depths of the garage.
Humming to herself, Cam flicked on a flashlight, opening up a book that she had loved since high school: The Secret Garden. Unfortunately, Cam’s mind wandered back to the man who was following her. Eventually she snapped out of it when she realized her eyes were drooping intensely. Cam made herself comfortable in the bed, breathing in the scent that was caked into the sheets covering Tommy’s bed. Cam soon found herself asleep, dreaming of nothing but a high school aged Tommy and Gracie.
~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Cam awoke to Grace’s soft cries. Hopping out of bed, she scooped her baby out of the bassinet. A knock on the door caused the mother to jump slightly, chuckling silently as she rocked Grace gently.
“Come on in,” Cam called to the door, hearing it open with a slight creak.
“Hey, sweets. I heard Gracie and figured I’d help you a little today.” Tommy entered and handed Cam a bottle filled with the exact amount of formula Grace had started eating as she rounded six months.
“Tommy, you didn’t have to do that! Thank you though,” Cam muttered. The trio sat together on the bed as Cam began feeding Grace. The baby girl babbled as she suckled against the bottle happily, grasping the sides with her knuckles.
“How did you manage to get the greatest thing out of the shittiest relationship?” Tommy whispered, brushing his long fingers over her tiny feet, causing the baby to giggle at his touch.
“I honestly have no idea, Tommy. Hey guess what?” Cam responded, turning her attention to the man next to her. Tommy hummed, signalling for Cam to continue. “I’m coming to your show tonight!”
“Really?! Jesus, Cam that’s great! What made you change your mind?” Tommy asked, his brown eyes shining brightly with excitement.
“I was on my way home from work and I figured I deserved a break. It’s okay that I’m coming, right?” Cam suddenly found herself questioning if this was really a good idea.
“Of course it is, Cam. Why else would I have invited you to every show?” They sat in silence after that, the only sounds filling the air being Grace’s grunts of happiness as she chowed down. Tommy stared at the two girls, utterly in love with the beautiful figures sitting beside him. He had dreamed countless times in school of the very moment he was witnessing, of course baby not included, but she was an amazing bonus. As Grace finished her bottle, Tommy gestured for Cam to hand over the infant, silently telling the mother to get ready for the day.
“I have to go to work. I convinced my manager to give me tonight off if I switched my closing shift with Anna’s lunch, but I promise I’ll be there. It starts at seven, right?” The frantic mother gathered her uniform, turning to Tommy and melting at the sight of the drummer cradling her baby so delicately.
“Huh? Oh yeah, seven. What are you gonna wear?” Cam froze in her tracks, completely forgetting about the scene aspect revolving around rock bands.
“Oh shit, Tommy! What am I gonna wear?!” Tommy chuckled as he stood from the bed, gently placing Grace in her bassinet and walking to his closet. Thrusting open the door, he shuffled through his clothes, tossing a black Pink Floyd shirt behind him. He gestured for Cam to follow him to Athena’s room, tossing a pair of distressed blue jeans into her arms.
“Wear that. You can keep the shirt by the way, it’s too small for me.”
“Thank you, Tommy. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a shower to take and a shift to get to.” Cam nudged Tommy out of her way and crossed the hall, entering the bathroom and locking the door behind her.
~~~~~~~~
When Cam’s shift ended at 3, she was anxious to get home. As she sprinted through town, barreling through the house, she casually mentioned to Athena that her jeans were being borrowed, a simple ‘no problem’ thrown back in response. Tommy was feeding Grace her lunch, chuckling at Cam who floated back and forth from the bedroom to the bathroom, mumbling to herself about everything she forgot.
Around the tenth time she stormed in the room still in her uniform and bare faced, Tommy stood and placed a hand on Cam’s shoulder.
“Hey, calm down, sweets. Take a breath and gather everything you need right now, then lock yourself in that fucking bathroom and don’t come out until you’re unrecognizable and absolutely fucking sexy.” Cam’s face flushed at Tommy’s comment. She looked down at the floor and nodded, gathering everything she needed to finalize her look. Ducking past Tommy, Cam made her way to the bathroom, following Tommy’s order diligently. She quickly exchanged her uniform for the outfit he picked out. Cam teased her hair until her arms were sore, then opted to do her makeup. She lined her hazel eyes with thick black liner and smacked a blood red lipstick on her full lips. Tommy’s words were true: when she was finished, Cam was fucking sexy.
Entering Tommy’s bedroom for the final time before leaving, Cam topped her outfit with a leather choker and combat boots. Kissing her daughter goodnight, Cam walked into the living room, everyone freezing where they stood.
“Wow, Cam. You look amazing! Your ass looks perfect in my jeans,” Athena commented, earning a light smack on the shoulder from Voula.
“Cameo, you really do look lovely. Tommy had to leave, but there is a cab waiting for you outside,” Tommy’s dad explained, a soft smile on his lips.
“Thank you. Okay well, Gracie is asleep and she should be down for the night. If not, a bottle should fix it. I borrowed a record from Tommy; Elton John. If she doesn’t seem to relax after the bottle, play ‘Your Song’ and she’ll be off to sleep in no time-”
“Cam, we’ve got this. We’ve done this a million times, and Gracie is not that difficult of a baby. Now, go have fun.” Cam’s purse was pushed into her arms as she was shoved out of the house by Voula. Cam waved as she entered the cab, giving the driver the address of the club, preparing for the amazing night ahead of her.
~~~~~~~
The show was amazing. Tommy snuck Cam backstage after the set ended and finally introduced her to Vince. The blonde was instantly enamored by Cam, but the glare that both Tommy and Nikki gave him were enough to make him reconsider his intentions.
The after party was in full swing and everyone was having fun. A beer was in Cam’s hand, but bad memories were laced with drinking, so she painfully nursed the alcohol over the course of two hours. As the party escalated, Motley Crue was high and drunk out of their minds. Someone just as fucked up wandered around, asking everyone and everything if he could bump a line of coke. He even asked Cam more than once and attempted to rudely feel her up when he was denied. Nikki pushed him off of her and told him to get out, a fight beginning to boil. As the stoner threw a right hook at Nikki’s face, a tiny man jumped in from his corner and took the attacker out with a single hit.
“Looks like you boys are gonna need a manager.” The band laughed as the stoner was thrown out of Nikki’s apartment.
“Hey, you okay? You look a little frazzled,” Mick asked across the table, noting Cam’s shaking hands.
“Um, yeah. I’m great. There’s just a lot happening at the moment.” Tommy overheard and wrapped an arm around Cam’s shoulders, gently placing a kiss to her temple.
“Do you wanna leave? I can call you a cab,” Tommy offered. Cam quickly shook her head, leaning into Tommy’s embrace a little more. At some point, Tommy tossed his leather jacket over her and she was still wearing it as their record deal and possible tour were discussed. Cam glanced around the table and smiled, happy that she was finally safe and surrounded by people who loved her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list:
@kellysimagines
A/N: What did you guys think of this part? Feel free to give me some pointers or things you want in the story and I’ll try my best to improve as the series goes on. BTW I am taking requests, so if anything strikes your fancy, go ahead and shoot me a message! Love you guys!
#the dirt imagine#tommy lee x oc#nikki sixx x oc#motley crue imagine#motherhood#mick mars#vince neil#love#romance#tommy lee blurb
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Only For A Moment Ch. 8
Master List | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?
Warnings: References to past violence... pretty much it.
A/N: If you’re continuing down this rabbit hole with me. Thank you! I can’t help but laugh that my initial idea for this was a one-off and now I’m just so invested in these two and their journey together I don’t ever want it to end (and we all know that one way or another it will end). This is probably so in-depth because I don’t feel like we get near enough time seeing Bucky be a human and it’s tragic because he’s a character that’s filled with so much potential (for love as well as violence). It’s way too much fun to explore him through the eyes of another character.
Tags are open!
@bluegirlusa1 @l0kisbitch @tazzi-baby @disagreetoagree @woodyandbuzz20-01 @mooniightbucky
Enough time passes that it’s full dark when your sobs slow to nothing more than hitching breaths. Your eyes have adjusted and the streetlight out front is on sending dingy light shooting through the boards on the window. You lift your head a bit and try to wipe at your snotty nose realizing you’ve soaked this man’s shirt with more than just tears.
“Ugh, I’m so sorry.”
The muted light barely illuminates his face but it’s just enough to make out his soft smile. “Trust me, I’ve had worse on my shirt.” You concede that point with a nod and sit up. You’d been perched on his thighs, legs out to his right. He can’t be comfortable. Even with being pretty malnourished these past few months you still weren’t what anyone would call slight. You take a shaky breath and notice that his metal hand is still on your upper back. You lean into it for just a second, appreciating the immovable feeling before going to move.
“You sure?” He says sensing you shift.
“Yeah. Plus, you’ve got to be uncomfortable.” His right-hand rests on your knee.
He shrugs, “I’m good, you don’t have to go… unless you want to.” You meet his eyes and get the feeling he doesn’t want you to go. It is nice, to feel another person there.
“Thank you,” you lay your hand on his and you swear you can feel a small shiver run through him. Even though it feels so nice you shift off his lap to the floor next to him. His hand lays flat between you and you butt your pinky next to his, not quite wanting to let go of that physical connection.
You rub your burning chest, grimacing. Been in this for too long, you think and the crying only made it worse.
He glances down where your bodies touch and lets out a small sigh. You think he’s going to ask more about what happened after he got you out instead he looks around the room, “How long have you been living here?”
You can’t help but laugh bitterly, “Live? I personally prefer the term, squatting.”
His left-hand raises to his chest in false anguish, “Oh, I’m truly sorry to offend.” He looks around once more, “But… do you even have running water…?”
“What do you think?”
“Gonna go with no. And no electricity either. Or any way to properly secure the entries.” These aren’t questions. Just observations. You shrug. “Just because you’re on the run from a diabolical group of well connected nazi assholes doesn’t mean you have to live in a hovel you know?”
“I don’t know actually,” you spit with much more venom than is deserved. His hand slides over yours in silent apology. “Sorry. Look. I’ve been homeless before and honestly, this isn’t so bad.”
“It’s just,” he clears his throat, “I have those things.” You don’t say anything. “And…” he runs his left hand through his hair nervously, “if you wanted… you could go there.” You only stare, not sure how to respond. He looks like he’s said something off-putting rather than remarkably kind, “But not if you feel uncomfortable or anything. I, uh, don’t even have to be there for a while if you want to just… I don’t know have something a little more… a little less…”
“Hovel-like,” you interject.
“Yeah… yeah.”
You look around at the dark room, your few clothes strewn about and the nightstand busted from your outburst earlier, the bed that was, likely, older than you were. “An actual shower would be amazing.” You’d been breaking into the gym of the nearby high school a few nights a week to bathe quickly, very quickly. He nods and stands. This time you don’t fling him against the wall. He holds his right hand out to you and you take it.
Bending down he gathers the books you scattered when your power lashed out and his knives. You notice he had already reclaimed his Glock from your waistband. “But you don’t have to leave your apartment.” His eyes meet yours silently questioning, “Seriously. I’d feel really fucking guilty. So… If you’ll stay I’ll gladly go with you.”
“Yeah,” he smiles that incredible smile again, “I’ll stay.”
It takes hardly ten minutes to gather your few belongings and you’re ready to leave this place behind you.
Bucky’s apartment isn’t too far away on the top floor of a Soviet-era apartment block. It’s small but feels… safe. And almost reminds you of that first place you and Nix had shared, a tight studio with the bare necessities. A mattress on the floor, ratty couch, windows covered in newspaper, but there’s a balcony. When you walk out you breathe deep, loving the feeling of being up so high.
“It isn’t much,” he says, looking around not meeting your eyes.
“It’s perfect,” and you mean it. This. In this moment. Is perfect.
“Oh and here’s the bathroom,” he opens the door to a small room. Unexpectedly there's a bathtub and you dream of bubble baths. He opens a closet to the right and points out the towels.
For a moment you both stand awkwardly not knowing what to do. “Well,” he clears his throat, “I’m going to run to the market before they close.” You give him a questioning glance. “I will be back though.”
“Ok.” He nods and turns to leave. You have a question, it’s haunted you for years you’ve got to get it out now or you’re worried you’ll never do it. “Wait. Can I ask you something?”
He turns back, “Yeah... If I can ask you something?”
“Home field advantage, you go first.”
He takes his baseball cap off and runs a hand through his hair, something you’re realizing is a nervous habit. “If… if I helped you… uh…”
“Why did I hit you over the head with a brick and tie you to a wall today?”
His mouth cocks in that crooked smile, “Yeah.”
“That was maybe two years in so once they got me back I was in Hydra for five or so more years. I… heard things.” You pause, hating this. “And… He… He brought you back some time after, a few months maybe. Time… all that time is so fluid so I’m not certain. And while I was… restrained… he asked you if you knew me. You said no. He asked if you’d kill me. You looked me in the eyes and said yes. He… ordered you to choke me.” You hear the metal plates shift. “You did. He stopped you before I lost consciousness. Sent you away. Then told me not to be mistaken, what happened before was just a moment of dumb luck, a malfunction. That the Soldier wasn’t on my side.”
His jaw is tight and you notice a vein throb in his neck, “He wasn’t.” Taking a deep breath he asks, “What was your question?”
“Why’d you do it?” He stares not understanding. “Why’d you help me? Why risk it for someone you didn’t know?”
Suddenly he looks a million miles away. “You reminded me of someone I used to know, someone… someone important to me. He didn’t know when to quit when he was outgunned. Neither did you.” He smiles, not the show-stopping one, this smile is melancholy, almost mournful.
“Sounds like a good dude.”
“Mhm…” again his hand rakes back his hair and he dons his cap. “I gotta get there before they close.”
“Alright. Thank you…” He nods and you’re alone.
You don’t have anything to make a bubble bath so you stick with just a shower, water so hot it stings. Had a shower ever felt quite this good?
Leaning your head against the far wall you let the scolding water pound against your back, reveling in the lack of urgency. Massaging your breasts, so sore from being bound all day, happy that you can finally breathe unencumbered. Muscles you had forgotten were tense begin to release and a few racking wet coughs rip through your chest. Suddenly you’re exhausted. You shut the water off, quickly dry your cropped hair, and wrap the towel around you.
Annoyingly you realize all your shirts are filthy, you had intended to do laundry today. He let you in his house you don’t suspect he’ll mind that you steal a t-shirt.
Slipping into a pair of clean boxer briefs, you go to the closet and pull out a black t-shirt. It’s soft and smells vaguely spicy as you slip it over your head. The fit isn’t exactly oversized on you but just big enough to be incredibly comfortable.
You sit cross-legged on the double mattress, even without a bed frame its worlds more comfortable than what you’d been sleeping on, to put your few toiletries and dirty clothes in your bag. Another wave of bone-deep exhaustion hits. You rest your head in your hands… Then there’s nothing.
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Mama Hen’s Wisdom For A New Year...
It’s a new year, chicks. It’s hard for me to believe that 20 years have passed us by since we WERE partying in the year 1999. I turned 21 that year, and thought I knew it ALL. Let me tell you, chitlin’s- I didn’t know shit. I found out roughly a year ago, a man I was involved with from around February of 1999 until May of 1999, respectively, passed away from cancer. There was a pain in my heart for a moment. Neil wasn’t a *bad* guy exactly, he was just a liar, and I was naïve and fell for it. He told me that he was in the process of getting a divorce, it just wasn’t final. That is WARNING SIGN NUMBER ONE ladies AND gentlemen. 9 out of 10 times, there’s NO divorce pending, and their spouses have NO idea there’s even a problem. He was a football coach at his local high school in another state. We talked every day while I was at work, and nightly on the computer. It just so happens, Mama Hen despite being young and naïve, was no fool. Things just didn’t seem right. Ya’ll trust me, when they don’t feel right- trust your gut. Most of the time, your gut IS right. Back in the late 90’s, emails were easy to hack. I was SICK when I hacked his. He was talking to ALL kinds of women, and there was NO divorce. Talk about a punch in the gut. I was devastated. I was so in love with him, and this man was nothing but a liar. Needless to say, my heart was broken, but I dumped him like a hot potato. Was Neil the ONLY bad decision I made that year? Nah. Not by a LONG shot, but that’s part of being young. You make mistakes. You learn.
The problem was, I didn’t have anyone really to help me along. My mother was just a saint. She didn’t drink. She didn’t smoke. She was a virgin when she got married. She did NOTHING. She did EVERYTHING her mother told her to. EVERYTHING. In absolutely NO way could she relate to me. None. Being a teenager, and then young adult was harder than hell with no one to relate to, or help guide me, that’s why you have Mama Hen.
Mama Hen is here to break it down to you. I’m going to share with you, what I wish someone would’ve shared with me.
You get ONE BODY. Love it. It doesn’t matter what it looks like, how short it is, how tall it is, how thin it is, how fat it is, how much excess skin it has, how dark the skin is, how light the skin is, what color your hair is, or if you have any hair at all. This body is YOURS. No one else has to live in it but YOU. Take care of it the best you can, and advocate for it. Don’t let ANYONE SHAME IT. PERIOD. Anyone who does- fuck them. I once weighed 400lbs. After being diagnosed with PCOS, and getting a proper treatment, I began to lose weight slowly. To this day, I’ve kept off over 180lbs. Do I have excess skin? You bet. Is my body what would be considered beautiful by most? Nope. I’ve got zero fucks to give. I wear a bikini to the pool every summer with my daughter. I want her to see that no matter what, I support body positivity, and that if you want to wear a bikini, put one on. This body has gained 200lbs, and then lost close to it again. This body has carried and given birth to two children. This body has nursed two babies. This body right now is fighting to stay alive through so many chronic pain/illnesses that after living 40 years in this body, I’m going to wear what I want, and do what I want. Don’t let anything stop YOU. Don’t let weight. Don’t let ability. Don’t let what peers at school, work, or family say or think. Don’t let society put you in a box by what they feel YOU should look like. YOU should look like whatever YOU think you should look like. Newsflash, if they don’t like it, they don’t have to fucking look at it. Girlfriend and boyfriend, you have EVERY right to exist on YOUR own terms! Do it! Don’t let anyone stop you!
We are sexual beings. Don’t ever let someone shame you for your sexuality or being sexual. DO. NOT. SLUT. SHAME. Do NOT shame those who are choosing NOT be sexually active either. If you’re a virgin in your late teens, in your 20’s, or even later, (for various reasons- be it religious convictions, you haven’t found the right person, or you are DESPERATELY horny! And would jump the first person who said yes!) Don’t be ashamed! Things happen right when they are supposed to. Never be ashamed.
I cannot hammer home this point enough- PLEASE, PLEASE- ALWAYS USE SAFER SEX PRACTICES, and USE THEM CORRECTLY! Yes, there are actually right and wrong ways to use birth control/STD prevention methods and devices. Know your status and know the status of your partner. Your life is too important not to.
If you are an ally to a friend someone who is LBGTQ, make sure you put your money where your mouth is. By this, I mean stand up for your friends. Being a young person is hard enough, but our LBGTQ youth (and yes, I know I’m old calling the late teens early 20’s our youth), have struggles those of us who are cisgendered take for granted. It’s a lot more than just wearing a safety pin on our shirts, and protesting at rallies (although, being there with your friends, and protesting makes a difference- keep that shit up). Be there when they need a friend. When you see injustice, speak up, even if your voice shakes. I know not everyone is going to be as outspoken and loud as I am, and that’s ok. (Yes, I’m the as loud and outspoken offline as I am on, probably moreso.)
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life, and don’t let ANYONE else make you feel guilty, either. Life IS about experience. When you’re young, how many people really know what the fuck they wanna do with their life? When I was 21, I had an Insurance License to sell Property/Casualty Insurance, I’d already dropped out of beauty school (I did go back and graduate when I was 24), I’d been working for the cosmetic counter I’d dreamt of since I was a Freshman in high school for 3 years, bought the car of my dreams 2 years before, and you know what? I felt completely lost. Had NO idea what I wanted to do. I got married at age 24. Had my first child at age 30. My second at age 35. Was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, tested positive for Lupus/RA, and began having severe Acute Intermittent Porphyria Attacks at age 40. I’m not going to sugar coat anything. I’m dying. I’m 40 years old, and I’m dying. You know, there were a lot of things I *wanted* to do, but I never knew exactly what I wanted to *do* with my life. Time is short. Don’t let people guilt you into doing something you aren’t happy with and you don’t want to do.
That leads me to my next point to hammer home. Don’t put up with abuse- ANY KIND OF ABUSE. Physical, mental, sexual, verbal, or emotional. You are a human being. You have worth. You do NOT deserve to be abused. I don’t care what happened in the past. I don’t care what you’ve done. You do NOT deserve to be hit- you never did. You do NOT deserve to be used sexually/raped/molested- you never did. You do not deserve to be manipulated into doing what someone says for their happiness if it makes you miserable- not now, not ever. You do not deserve to live on eggshells for fear of making someone mad/fearing their anger, or the living hell of the verbal/emotional abuse you’ll take for doing something wrong in their eyes. You don’t deserve that now, you never did. HEAR ME NOW. YOU DO NOT DESERVE ABUSE beautiful young people (and old alike). You do NOT DESERVE ABUSE. Please know your worth. Please know you are loved.
Be kind, but take no shit. I’m from the south. Those of you who are reading this and are from the Southern, US know what I’m talking about. We like our manners down here. We like to say, “Please”, and “Thank you”, “Yes ma’am”, “No ma’am”- you get the picture. We try to be kind to people. We’re the kind of people who will greet you with a smile and try to be helpful and friendly. I like people. I’m a social person by nature, and I do what I can to be a good friend. I’ve said this on more than one occasion, I’m not for everyone, and that’s ok, too. It doesn’t ruffle Mama Hen’s feathers. If we don’t jive, I wish ya well in life, I do. The thing is, I’m not gonna take your shit. I’m the nicest person you’ll ever meet, but never mistake my kindness for weakness. I’ll call you out every time. I don’t take shit. I’m not going to let anyone walk all over me. I didn’t do it at work. I don’t do it at home. I could make a “Sam I am” outta this. You see where I’m going with this. Don’t let people walk all over you. Be kind. Be a friend as best you can, but don’t take shit. Nip it in the bud. The quicker you stop it, the less drama you have to deal with. No one has time for drama. The older you get, the less time and tolerance you’ll have for drama.
Take care of your health. When you’re young, it’s not something you think about. Trust me, I NEVER thought about it. It never crossed my mind at 21. At 21, I never thought I’d be looking at 41, wondering how much time I had left. I never thought at 41, I would’ve already buried 10 of my friends and family members, all under the age of 45 before I turned 41. I thought we’d live forever. I never thought I’d get sick. Go for your yearly physical. Take a multivitamin. Drink your water. Little things can make a big difference.
Practice what you preach. Whatever you are, be a good one. If you’re a out there fighting for change, make it happen the best way you can. If you’re wanting peace, what are you doing to make it happen? If you’re a Christian (and yes, I am), are you taking that “Love One Another Thing” seriously? Remember, it came with no exclusions, that means the people fleeing over the border, our LBGTQ brothers and sisters, the homeless, the hungry, and that person you don’t like in the cubical next to you.
No one is useless. You might feel like you are useless, as if you have no purpose in this world. This is simply not true. If you’re breathing, you’ve got a purpose. So what if you’re not a Harvard Scholar? If you are, that is terrific! I salute you, and I’m proud of you! If you aren’t, that is terrific, and I’m proud of YOU, too! We all have gifts in this world, and we all have something to offer. You may have the gift of simply listening when a friend needs someone to talk to. You may be a gifted artist, who can sketch/draw/paint/craft/sculpt/MORE! You may be a creative person who has a gift for putting words to paper, so to speak, by writing short stories, fan fiction, novels/novellas, scripts- the possibilities are endless! You may be an empathetic person who has the gift of compassion, you may be someone who isn’t able to leave your home, but can offer gifts by support in groups. These are just a few of the MANY, MANY things in this great world, that connect us all. How many people here, on Tumblr have reached out to someone needing help, or found a common interest that has connected them? No one is useless. You have worth. Never let anyone diminish your light. If someone fails to see it, don’t let it extinguish the light inside of YOU.
Take time to take care of your mental health, it’s important. Not everyone has mental health issues, but it’s important to take time for your mental health for self-care to keep yourself in a good place. Take time regularly to do something that makes you happy, and makes you feel alive. Staying in a good frame of mind, and happy is something that is so important. It doesn’t have to be grand, it doesn’t have to be expensive. It can be something as simple as having a friend come over and watch tv, or going for a walk in the park, going to the club on Friday night, or even staying in for a quiet night and taking a bubble bath- whatever YOUR idea of a good time is, do it.
For those who are living with mental health issues- don’t EVER, and I mean EVER let ANYONE tell you, “It’s All In Your Head”, or shame you for your conditions. Don’t EVER let ANYONE shame you for taking your medications. Hold your head up high, and look them RIGHT in the eye and ask them, “Would you tell an insulin dependent diabetic, “You don’t need that insulin, you can (fill in the blank here IE: pray away, positive think away, new diet away, essential oil away, excuse of the day) that diabetes! Of course not! Why would you think that I don’t need my medication for (your mental illness)” They shouldn’t have a rebuttal. Because it’s ridiculous. I live with several mental illnesses. My mother was NOT understanding. At all. She refused to believe I had Borderline Personality Disorder. She acknowledged I had PTSD, but that was just about it. She treated me horrible. I mean horrible. I’m not going to get into all of that right now- but I refused to take it. I put myself, my health, and my family first. I had to. I took my medication as prescribed. I went to therapy regularly. I use my coping skills and do the best I can. I’m sure as hell not perfect, that’s for sure. Don’t let anyone make you think it’s all in your head, or however you need to heal isn’t ok. Do what YOU need to do, to be ok. Surround yourself with people who are loving and supportive. They are your tribe.
Don’t be in a rush to get married. Just because your friends are all getting married and having babies, don’t feel like YOU have to, too! Yeah, I know “Say yes to the dress!” is AWESOME! I LOVE me some Lori and Monte, too! My best friend Heather and I had been planning out our respective weddings since we were 8, the grooms constantly changed, but one thing was certain- we wanted BIG. SOUTHERN. WEDDINGS! I wanted to get married more than ANYTHING and wear a beautiful gown, and carry a gorgeous bouquet, and all that stuff! Ya’ll, don’t be in ANY hurry. Please, do NOT get me wrong, I love my husband. We just celebrated our 16th anniversary on December 31st. It’s been a rough road, anything BUT a fairy tale, that’s for damn sure. We’ve had our ups and downs and taken us a LONG time to get it right. I’m thankful to have my husband, I truly am. I’m sad that right now I’m at a point in my life where I spend most of my days in bed, or going from doctor to doctor, in and out of the hospital. When you get married, you sign up for that better or worse, in sickness and in health thing, and trust me, I’ve been through a LOT of that better or worse, and right now, we’re going through the in sickness and in health thing. You go through a LOT when you’re married. Not all marriages are like mine by any means. Some are SO much better, some are SO much worse, some are right in the middle. If it weren’t for me being so sick, we’d be in such a great place. We’d be broke as hell, but in a great place, none the less. The older you get, the more you realize money is nice. You need it pay the bills, eat, all that jazz, but you don’t need the material things half as much as you do the people you love. Focus on loving you, FIRST. THEN, worry about getting married. I promise you, you can STILL have that kick ass GORGEOUS wedding at age 30, OR 40. And God forbid you’re worried about your dress, buy it now and put it back. I’m not one who is ever opposed to planning ahead.
Alright, Mama Hen’s hip is hurting, so I’m gonna have to get my old ass up and walk. I love ya’ll. I wanted to share some of my words of wisdom for the New Year with my chicks. My inbox is open, but it might take me a few days here and there to reply. My health isn’t the greatest, so depending upon the day I may or may not be on. I hope at least you gained some of the insight that I wished someone had given me 20 years ago.
Love,
--Mama Hen
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1.
The body swap au a surprising amount of people asked for, actually.
Read on AO3 / Summary
Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier
Warnings: swearing, sexual references
Chapter 1/?
| Next
Word Count: 3279
Eddie’s playlist
If given the choice to remove something from existence, most sensible people's suggestions would be akin to war, famine, homelessness, cancer, or something else along that line. Some people would be more specific, maybe choosing to rid the world of a particular person, or food, or trend in clothing. Some would say they would get rid of bagpipes, or tomatoes, or the entire concept of wearing socks and sandals. Others wouldn't be able to give you an answer, making the argument that we need the bad to balance out the good, or some other pretentious and insightful bullshit.
Richie Tozier knew exactly what he would get rid of, if given that choice. It would, without a doubt, be the song Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves.
This was the thought that crossed Richie's mind as the annoyingly energetic opening drumbeats graced his ears at six that morning, as they did every morning without fail. It was promptly accompanied by the familiar sound of a window sliding open, which only aimed to amplify the sound. He gritted his teeth and mumbled something unintelligible, but undoubtedly profane, and pulled the pillow out from under him, wrapping it around the back of his head and over his ears in an attempt to drown out the music. It proved to be futile, though. Because then, right on cue, the singing started. Well, calling it singing might be a bit of a stretch. He would have described it as more of a pained-sounding screech, much akin to a dying cat, or maybe a kazoo thrown into a paper shredder,
I use to think maybe you loved me, now baby I'm sure.
Of course his next door neighbour had to have the worst voice imaginable, paired with the worst music taste imaginable (that is, one of a preteen girl). He honestly thought he would much rather be beaten over the head with a baseball bat every morning, because even that would be less painful than this.
The chorus started, and the 'singing' escalated from a slightly reserved cry to a full on caterwaul, his neighbour's voice cracking a little, rather comically, on the 'woah's. He let out a defeated huff, which slowly drew out into a groan. He removed the pillow, throwing it off the bed in lazy frustration, and turned his head to face the window. From where he was he could just see Eddie Kaspbrak, his personal alarm clock, sitting at the foot of his own bed, bent over himself to tie his shoes. He was still belting out the lyrics as he did so.
Eddie, at least on the outside, seemed like a good kid. 'A wrinkly old grandma's wet dream', Richie had once said to his friend Beverly the day after he moved in next door, and though the analogy was responded to with disgust, she later discovered that he really did have a point. The boy was constantly pristine, always wearing variously coloured, yet always dull-looking polo shirts, tucked into jeans that were always unreasonably well-fitted. And cardigans. Oh god, the cardigans were the worst. They looked like they came directly out of Mr. Rogers' personal collection, though everyone knew the kid didn't own a single item of second-hand clothing. Which was, in Richie's opinion, worse, because it meant that he didn't dress like that due to financial strife, and that he spent good money on new clothes that made him look like a tiny senior citizen by choice. His haircut hadn't changed since the start of highschool, the same suburban-white-father-of-three-esque side-parted quiff that never had a single hair out of place. When he wasn't dressed like this, however, he was in his P.E. uniform. That is, a grey t-shirt with their high school mascot printed on the front, and shorts. Bright red, flashy, and ever so short. Absolutely shorter than necessary, and shorter than anyone else on the track team seemed to have them. And once again, the Kaspbrak's didn't have an issue with money. He hadn't grown out of them and couldn't afford to buy a new pair, hell, he had barely grown two inches since freshman year. They were short, because that weirdo liked them that way, for whatever reason. And Richie didn't care enough to ask. All he knew was that they when he was wearing them, it was distracting as fuck. Every time he did his stretches on Saturday morning, after strategically placing himself in his room so Richie could see him from where he sat on the bed, reading over his play scripts, it was like he was actively trying to show himself off.
And Richie hated it. He hated him.
He grabbed his glasses off of his bedside table and dragged himself out of bed, feet hitting the floor and pulling him into a slouched stance, and shuffled his way over to the window. He lifted the pane open with a small groan.
There was a small stretch of roof in front of both of their windows, about three feet each, the gap between the two properties only about the length of Richie's arm. Small enough to cross over with barely any effort, if either wanted to do so. Before Eddie had moved in, he thought it would have been perfect if someone came and lived there, someone nice, someone that he liked, and they could sit out on the roof and talk all night. They could have climbed into one another's rooms when their parents were asleep, or leave little notes on the glass, or even, maybe, if he was really lucky, fall in love with them. It would have been perfect, and rather shakespearian, he guessed. His own little Romeo and Juliet story. But then the universe decided to throw it's middle fingers up and say “fuck you, you're getting this hobbit instead,” and the only time he had ever crossed over to the other rooftop was at the start of junior year, to draw a massive, rather detailed piece of male genitalia on Eddie's window. In permanent ink, too, and Eddie had spent a good twenty minutes crouched out there in his pyjamas with a bottle of ajax and a sponge, desperately trying to scrub it off, cursing out Richie as he did so, fretting out loud about his mother seeing it. He deserved it though. He must have, even though Richie couldn't remember exactly what event had brought it on.
He leaned out slightly, fingers tapping a beat into the wood. Eddie looked up, obviously catching him out of the corner of his eye, and grinned. For a moment it even looked almost genuine. Almost. He knew better.
“'Morning Dick!” he chirped, making his way across the room, leaning against the window frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Richie pressed his lips together into a forced smile.
“Has anyone ever told you that you're a really good singer? I mean, obviously the answer is no, because you're shit, but I was wondering if maybe someone once lied to you about it and that's why you're still in denial about how terrible you are.” He tilted his head to the side. “Sorry to rip the bandaid off like that but trust me, it's better that you know.” He nodded his head, feigning sympathy. Eddie let out a short, sharp laugh.
“Oh I'm sorry Rich, was I cutting in on your beauty sleep? Is that why your face is all-” he paused, holding his hand up towards him, gesturing vaguely, “-like that?”
“Nice comeback,” Richie replied, before returning to a deadpan expression, “can you turn the music down now?” Eddie stuck his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, shaking his head.
“Maybe if you weren't up until two in the morning reciting your weird poetry you wouldn't be so tired, ever think of that?” he asked, a mocking lilt to his voice. Before Richie could say anything in return, he reached above him and slid the window down, leaving just a small gap at the bottom as to not muffle the noise, and promptly flipped him off through the glass. The song faded to a close, only to be replaced by something equally as upbeat and obnoxious.
Richie thought that if he could remove something else from existence, it would be Karma Chameleon by Culture Club.
“Fucking twat,” Richie muttered under his breath, just as Eddie's curtains were pulled shut. He sighed in defeat, shutting his own window and rolling his shoulders forward a few times, trying to ease some of the tension in his back. His lumpy old mattress was starting to become a prominent problem, there wasn't many days that he woke up without a crick in his neck. “Stupid mattress. Stupid shitty pop songs. Stupid fucking pink sweater bullshit.”
He collapsed onto the bed face-down, the bed creaking and complaining under him as he did, ignoring the painful way his glasses pressed into his face.
“'Weird poetry', like you can fucking talk, weirdo. At least I don't fucking iron my jeans.” He barked out a laugh at his own remark, then quickly realised he was talking and to someone who could not hear him, and sighed again. He rolled over onto his back, looking up at the cluster of glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling that he had put there when he was eight, only to never take them down, even as he was nearing the end of highschool. Most of them were peeling away at the corners. He had an urge to fix them, but knew he wouldn't, choosing instead to fixate on them with a weird sense of frustration.
It took around twenty minutes for him to actually get up. He only knew it took that long because five songs played during that time, averaging three and a half minutes each, he guessed. And Eddie sang every single lyric, so badly that at points Richie thought he must be consciously trying to sound worse than normal. It ended up being a rendition of Don't Go Breaking My Heart, in which Eddie sang both the male and female parts, even putting the effort in to sing them in alternating pitches, that drove Richie to the edge. He threw on a pair of jeans and the first shirt he picked up that didn't look too filthy, and trudged his way down the hall to the bathroom. He didn't have time for a shower, so he brushed his teeth and sprayed on an arguably excessive amount of aftershave before heading downstairs.
It wasn't necessarily a surprise to see the note on the fridge, but it still made him feel- something. Disappointment, perhaps, though he wasn't sure why it would be. It wasn't like it was a rare occasion for him to wake up to an empty household. He walked closer. Words scribbled on a piece of yellow lined paper torn from a legal pad, obviously done in a rush, held up by an old souvenir magnet from Niagara Falls. That trip had been before Richie was born, back when he figured his parents still led relatively interesting lives. Or maybe they didn't. Maybe it was a gift, and his parent's lives were never extraordinary in the slightest, not even enough to go to Ontario. He had never thought to ask.
Will be back tomorrow night. Leftovers in the fridge. -Mom x
He read the words aloud to himself, his voice sounding all too loud now that he was aware there was no one else to hear it. He told himself he didn't care, because truthfully, he wasn't sure if he did.
His parents weren't bad, per say. They did care about him, obviously, they must have. When they were home it was nice, they ate dinner together in front of the television, he helped his mother with the dishes, his father gave him pocket money for mowing the lawn. Hell, they even actually talked sometimes, mostly about the sports his father watched. Richie loved those talks, even though he really didn't have any interest in the subject matter. No, they were fine parents, he thought, perfectly fine. The problem was that they were rather... absent. Increasingly so since he hit high school. Nowadays it seemed that they were gone more than they weren't, either gone on some sort of business trip, or working late shifts, or his mother was at her book club, or his father was at the sports bar downtown. There was always something, and they barely ever specified what it was. Sometimes a week would pass and he wouldn't see them at all.
He swallowed the hurt that had started forming in the back of his throat, god knows he didn't need to acknowledge it, and opened the fridge. Empty. Like, absolutely empty.
“Good one, ma.”
He let the door swing shut and close with a soft thud, and took one last look at the note, as if it had somehow changed in the last ten seconds, or maybe to make sure he had read it right. Ten words are a lot to handle, after all, he easily could have misread it. But, unsurprisingly, he had read it right the first time, his parents still weren't home, and he would nothing to eat but cup noodles for the next two days. He didn't get the chance to mull over it for much longer, because right then a car horn sounded from outside, announcing his friend's arrival.
He bounded down the driveway to Mike's vega, where Beverly was leaning against the side of the hood, the front seat shifted forward already for him to climb into the back seat. He never understood how they had conned him into sitting in the back every day, seeing as he was tallest out of all three of them and the car was so small he would have been uncomfortable even in the front, but they had, and he did, and every day his back hated him for it. Don't complain, he reminded himself as he contorted himself into the seat, at least it's better than the bus. He sat in the middle of the bench, legs awkwardly spread apart, but it was the only way he could fit semi-comfortably.
“Any interesting developments today?” Mike questioned as Beverly readjusted the seat for herself.
“Eh, same old. Little fucker called me ugly, I told him 'at least I don't iron my jeans'.”
“Noice,” Bev exclaimed, swinging the door shut. The engine revved to life again and Mike pulled out onto the road.
“Yeah, would have been pretty good. Except I didn't actually say it while he could hear me, so it's fucking wasted,” he huffed, slumping back into the seat, not that there was much room to do so.
“Nah, just save it for next time,” she replied, shooting him a toothy smile over her shoulder which he returned.
“Sadie's for breakfast?” Mike asked, and Beverly made a noise of excitement, sitting up in her seat..
“Hell yeah, we have time?”
“There's always time for Sadie's, miss Marsh,” Richie remarked, leaning forward over the centre console.
Sadie's was a small, relatively popular fast food joint in town. An unsuspecting visitor would undoubtedly be discouraged when entering; the establishment was cramped and borderline claustrophobic, the purple and white clad employees were always abrupt and rude, the floors were sticky and the tables hardly ever clean, and the food was downright awful and way too overpriced. But everyone knew you didn't go there for the service, or the food, or the atmosphere, or any of that crap. No, you went to Sadie's for the shakes. Those vanilla shakes were what kept the damn place in business, and for good reason. They were heaven, a perfect balance of flavour and consistency. Anyone who ever had one would tell you that it was the best thing they had tasted in their entire lives. No one could figure out how to recreate it, either, and not through lack of trying. No matter what people did, how closely they watched through the narrow window into the kitchen as they were being prepared, how many different variations and measurements and methods they tried, nothing was ever as good. It was almost magical. Richie and his friends probably went through over twenty a week between the four of them -the three in the car, plus Stan, though he often unfortunately missed out on their impromptu snack runs due to him refusing to ride in Mike's car.
They arrived just under ten minutes later. The restaurant was situated between two other buildings, looking almost like it was shoved in there at the last minute, and there wasn't actually anywhere to park. Bev quickly hopped out and gave a two fingered salute before marching inside, and Mike began to drive around the block, as he would do multiple times as they waited for Beverly to retrieve their order. The two of them sat, the radio filling the gaps in the comfortable silence between them.
“And coming up next,” the voice on the station hummed as the song faded out, “to brighten your drive to work on the glorious Monday morning; a hit from Katrina and the Waves-”
“-Oh god.”
Mike laughed as Richie lurched forward, his fingertips just barely brushing the radio dial before Mike grabbed his wrist with one hand and keeping the other on the wheel. The drumbeats faded in. Richie felt like he might cry.
“Fucking hell, Hanlon, please don't make me listen to it,” he pleaded, sounding so genuinely desperate that it only caused the other to smile wider.
“Aw why? Don't you like this song?”
“You know damn well I do no- watch the road, man!”
Mike swore under his breath and swerved back into his own lane, not letting up his grip on Richie's wrist despite his squirming.
“Driver picks the music, Rich,” he jeered, shoving Richie backwards. He fell back with an exaggerated groan, letting his head roll back against the edge of the seat. The lyrics started, and Mike started to sing along, or at least tried to. It quickly became clear that he didn't know any of the words.
“You suck,” Richie hissed, though it lacked any real heat.
“I know,” he returned, flashing a smile in the rearview mirror. It was so innocent looking and contagious that Richie had to bite back one of his own. Damn it Mike, Richie thought, why'd you have to be so pretty, huh? Cut me some slack here.
They went around the block twice before they spotted Beverly standing on the curb. In that time Richie did his best to block out the song, and the one after that, though the second one didn't make him want to rip his hair out nearly as much. He could only thank god that Mike wasn't one to blast his music at a ridiculous level.
Bev swung down into her seat, carefully balancing the cardboard cup tray on the centre console before shutting the door and doing up her seatbelt.
“Alright, pay up. 'Dollar seventy five,” she held her hand palm up over her shoulder, directed towards Richie. He dug around in his pocket and came up with a crumpled bill and a quarter, and placed it in her hand.
“I owe you fifty cents,” he said, reaching forward to snatch one of the drinks. He had to stop himself from straight-up moaning as he took a first sip. “Holy fuck.”
“Mhm,” Bev hummed in agreement, lips wrapped around her own straw.
“Oh my god, Bev,” Mike said abruptly, “you'll never guess what came on the radio.”
Tag list (bolded won’t tag): @fanficisgoodforthesoul @i-is-gazebo @dandeliontozier @panicatbakerst @howellhxlic @musicalsaftermusicals @bernaynay @bust-a-move-bev @reddie-to-go @richietoaster @omgboiledcabbages @reddietofall @flowersiren @lousytrashmouth @get-fcking-reddie
#writing#it 2017#vice versa fic#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#reddie fanfic#reddie fanfiction#it 2017 fanfic#beverly marsh#mike hanlon#stanley uris#bill denbrough#ben hanscom#reddie au
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'The Bachelor' season premiere recap: Arie begins his race to the altar
Arie Luyendyk Jr. is racin’ to find a wife. (Photo: ABC)
Warning: This recap of the season premiere of The Bachelor contains spoilers.
Do elderly former reality stars deserve love, too? It’s a question that I fear will never be answered to our true satisfaction, rose lovers, but darn it if this season of The Bachelor isn’t going to try. Having resurrected former The Bachelorette runner up Arie Luyendyk Jr. from his death of real estate and mid-level racing obscurity, producers hope to break new ground with the first-ever grey-haired Bachelor… just not the one you were expecting.
Now that he’s had five years to heal his wounded heart, Arie is ready for “the most important race of his life”: finding a wife in nine short, heavily-produced weeks.
Man, is this previously-on recap still going on?
Photo: ABC
We get it, guys — Emily crushed Arie’s heart. But we’ve got 29 new “ladies” who want to get in his drivers’ seat, so how about we get this show on the road?
Photo: ABC
Sigh. Fine, let Sean and Catherine Lowe, the First Couple of Bachelor Nation, impart some “wisdom” to their single friend — and give their little boy Samuel something to talk about when he meets up with friends Ty (season 13), Ricki (Bachelorette, season 8), and Camila (season 18) in their weekly Bachelor Spawn-Anon meetings.
Photo: ABC
Hang in there, little buddy.
With the build-up over, Chris Harrison greets us at Casa Bachelor to introduce “some truly extraordinary women” who are ready to get wifed up. Robot roll call:
Chelsea, 29: Props to this single mom from Maine for not trotting out her little one, Sammy, for her intro package. The “real estate exec. assistant” also finds it “comforting” that her Bachelor is Arie, because he proved during Emily’s season that he’s not afraid to fake settle down with a woman and her child.
Caroline, 26: Another real estate professional! Though she’s “really good” at her job, Caroline says being a wife and mother is “at the top of my priority list.” Well, as that Rasta dude says at the end of Pretty Woman, “Some dreams come true, some don’t — but keep on dreamin’.”
Maquel, 23: This professional photographer from Utah is admittedly “jealous” of the happy couples she photographs… but not in a scary, Lifetime movie way, okay?
Nysha, 30: “The more blood, the better for me!” No, that’s not Nysha’s plan for eliminating her competition in the house — she’s a nurse, silly! One who likes patching up seriously-injured patients — and one who already took a Bachelor-approved Leap Of Faith™ by sky-diving for her 30th birthday.
Tia, 26: Living in the tiny town of Weiner, Arkansas means Tia and her friends have to “make our own fun” — like exercising their 2nd Amendment rights.
Tia’s got her gun.
Oh, look who it is!
Photo: ABC
If you thought Tia seemed a little familiar, what with her long-layered dark locks and her Southern twang, that might be because she’s modeled after/a “good friend” of Bachelor Nation favorite (and fellow small-town Arkansas girl) Raven Gates. (And if you’re playing Bachelor bingo, be sure to stamp “Bachelor in Paradise shoe-in” on your scorecard.)
Kendall, 26: What does “weird” look like on The Bachelor? It’s tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and surrounded by stuffed animals.
Photo: ABC
Yep, Kendall collects taxidermy, and her longest relationships tend to be with preserved animal carcasses, not human beings. Team Bachelor pushed things a little too far with the ukulele bit, though — now Kendall’s not only quirky, she’s annoying.
Bekah M.: Much has been made of Bekah, both for her short haircut — how did she even get in the door??? — and for the fact that she’s so young. Though producers are playing coy with her age, you don’t need a birth certificate to see that this girl is just that — a girl. Honestly, she looks like she could be a stand-in for one of the kids on Stranger Things.
Photo: ABC
Marikh, 27: This stunningly beautiful woman co-owns an Indian restaurant with her mother and, even more impressively, she did not punch the producer who asked her to say this on camera:
Photo: ABC
Krystal, 29: Oh man, why do bad shows happen to good people? Krystal is a fitness coach who volunteers distributing food to the homeless men and women of San Diego, because her younger brother is currently living on the streets. “I try to treat people how I would want someone to treat him,” she says through tears.
Enough humanity! Send in the chattle — bathed, perfumed and bronzed for Arie’s enjoyment!
Photo: ABC
And the first “lady” out is… Caroline the realtor! She makes a cutesy joke about taking Arie “off the market,” and then beats a hasty retreat inside. Up next is Chelsea the single mom, followed by Kendall the token weirdo. Our first new face is Seinne, who works in real estate (Arie clearly has a type) and who’s also the first woman to bring Arie a gift: Elephant cufflinks. “An elephant never forgets, so don’t forget to find me inside,” Seinne says with a smile. Survey says? Just the right amount of cute.
Tia (who shall heretofore be known as Raven 2) hands Arie a small, plastic hot dog. “Please tell me you don’t already have a little wiener,” she drawls, as all the 7th grade boys who apparently produce this show crack up in the control room. Poor Arie, though, doesn’t quite seem to get the joke. “I do not have this,” he replies, holding up the trinket. “You did good.”
Next up is Bibiana, a fertility-minded executive assistant from Florida (“Oh my god, our babies would have blue eyes!”), followed by Bri, a sports reporter who greets Arie by tossing him a literal softball. Jenny the 25-year-old blonde gets the intro brush-off in favor of Brittane J., who decides to mark her territory by slapping a bumper sticker on Arie’s behind.
Photo: ABC
Jacqueline the research coordinator assures Arie all he has to do is “stand there and look pretty,” but Krystal disagrees: She commands Arie to close his eyes, take some deep breaths, and “reflect on feeling so grateful for everything leading to this moment.” (I suspect that somewhere, Peter Kraus is taking some much-needed deep breaths too.)
Nysha bucks convention by opting for a cocktail length dress rather than a gown, while Valerie the brunette waitress opts for a canary-yellow number that contrasts sharply with the purple undertones of her hair. Team Bachelor intercuts all the less showy arrivals with shots of the “ladies” in the house shifting nervously in their seats every time a new woman enters the mansion. Except for Chelsea, that is: “I’m not worried,” she sniffs. “There’s [sic] no threats.”
Bekah makes the first thematically-mandated auto entrance of the evening, driving up in a cherry red Mustang convertible. “I may be young,” she tells Arie, “but I can still appreciate something classic.” Translation:
Photo: ABC
And he LOVES it. “She is so beautiful,” he whispers as Bekah bounces inside.
Jenna, the 28-year-old social media manager, can’t stop waving her arms around during her introduction to Arie; Jessica the TV host emerges from the limo clutching something called a “gratitude rock,” which sounds like a hotel gift shop trinket — but points for effort, I guess? Marikh the restaurant owner goes back to the spice well, joking about Arie’s “salt and pepper” hair, and then we get a brief glimpse of Olivia, a 23-year-old marketing associate from Chicago.
Becca K. (not to be confused with Bekah with a k) instructs Arie to get down on one knee and ask her if she’s “ready to do the damn thing.”
Photo: ABC
Is it me, or does long-suffering Arie seem a little annoyed? “That was a first for me,” he mutters drily to the camera, fishing Becca’s ring from his coat pocket like he can’t get it away from him fast enough. And still the limos keep coming.
Photo: ABC
A second social media manager? Perhaps that’s the new “VIP Cocktail Waitress.” Next up is Lauren J. from Louisiana, who one-ups Raven 2 and her plastic wiener by giving Arie some giant balls (in the form of Mardi Gras beads). But the Laurens aren’t done with us yet, folks.
Photo: ABC
And remarkably, they’re not all blonde.
Photo: ABC
The “Lauren Limo” tops out at four, and so it’s on to Ashley and her checkered flag; Brittany T., who attempts to say “You’re handsome” in Dutch (a language Arie speaks fluently); and Amber, who makes a memorable first impression by telling the Bachelor about one drawback of owning a spray-tan company:
Photo: ABC
But honestly, rose lovers, Amber’s ice-breaker is Emily Post-level conduct compared to Ali the personal stylist dreams up:
Photo: ABC
It’s a “pit stop”! Get it? Because he’s a racecar driver? Yeah, let’s just move on.
Photo: ABC
Okay, Annaliese, your joke about Arie’s “kissing bandit” nickname is cute, but talk to me when you’ve kept that mask on for days, like Jeff from Ashley’s season of The Bachelorette.
The deafening roar of an engine precedes our next arrival. “No she didn’t!” gasps one of the women watching from inside the mansion, as Maquel climbs out of an IndyCar. Honestly, did they really think Bekah was going to be the only contestant who showed up on wheels? The other bachelorettes are so annoyed by Maquel’s flashy entrance, they park themselves right in the shot as she introduces herself to Arie.
Photo: ABC
Simmer down, “ladies” — your probably-not future husband is making his way inside right this very minute. Chelsea tries to offer him a drink, but Arie’s too focused on making his welcome speech sound as earnest as possible.
Awkward.
An off-camera producer mouths something like “take the damn drink, you moron” at Arie, and he pauses to accept the glass from Chelsea. “See, I’m already messing up!” moans our Bachelor with a chuckle.
Seeing that Chelsea already had the pimp spot, is it any wonder that she’s the first one to “steal” Arie for a chat? “I’m not a rude person,” she says. “But I want to get to know him quickly so I can proceed with the rest of my life, possibly with him.” As we saw from her introduction, Chelsea’s whole shtick is being “mysterious” — which mainly means talking about herself in the past perfect tense, like “there have been some sacrifices that were made.” And he LOVES it. “Chelsea’s very good at leaving me wanting a little bit more,” he says. “It’s working.”
Unfortunately for Chelsea, she barely has time to drape Arie in her shimmering veil of mystery before Maquel shows up and politely asks to cut in. Though Maquel could not have been nicer about it, Chelsea immediately begins swanning around the house complaining about “the girl that makes all the noise,” who interrupted her time with Arie. This, coupled with all the other snotty things we’ve seen Chelsea say so far tonight, makes it pretty clear that she’s getting the Villain Edit. And by “Villain Edit,” I mean that cameras have captured Chelsea being bitchy several times, and producers have opted to use that footage.
Perhaps producers were focusing so much on Chelsea’s rude behavior because so many of the other women are actually being… nice to each other? Here they are sharing their feelings on interracial relationships:
Photo: ABC
And here they are bonding over the fact that, OMG, they’re on the freakin’ Bachelor!
Photo: ABC
Meanwhile, the get-to-know-you chats are proceeding apace. Brittany T. challenges Arie to a battery-operated car race…
Photo: ABC
…and even though her victory is totally fraudulent, she still claims her prize: The night’s first kiss. Cue the “nervous ladies start steppin’ up their game” montage! Kendall serenades Arie with an original ukulele composition about roses and fish; Caroline brings Arie some pizza (which looks like it was sitting out on the craft services table for a while, but again, points for effort); and Lauren G. shoves some fruit in Arie’s mouth and informs him that “pineapple” is her safe word.
Photo: ABC
Jenna the social media manager gives Arie a socks-off foot massage while blathering on about her “super-in-tune” senses and all the free food and “spa stuff” she gets on a regular basis. For some reason, Arie finds this whole flibbertigibbet act “intriguing” — it might have something to do with Jenna being a tall skinny blonde, but that’s just a guess.
Oh snap, look who’s here.
Photo: ABC
The first impression rose means that the clock (biological and otherwise) is ticking. Form an orderly line, “ladies” — and then watch as Chelsea cuts to the front. “I understand that I’m in a sea of beautiful women and they could possibly get mad at me,” she explains, “but I don’t care.” Arie doesn’t seem to mind, either.
Photo: ABC
“You snuck up on me there, but I liked it,” he murmurs after their face-mash time. Will Chelsea’s surprise smooch top Jenny’s graphite portrait of Arie in a sports car? Or Jessica’s reveal that her late father met Arie and rooted for him on the race track? Or Bekah’s flirtatious, short-haired joie de vivre?
Yes. Yes, it will.
Photo: ABC
Clink clink clink! Here comes Chris Harrison and his Butter Knife of Bad News. “Ladies,” please proceed to the rose ceremony… as soon as you’re done with your coffee.
Photo: ABC
Indeed, the sun is beginning its arc across the sky over Casa Bachelor when Arie finally begins handing out roses. Becca K., Marikh, Kendall, Lauren G., Krystal, Bekah M., Lauren S., Seinne, Caroline, Brittany T., Bibiana, Annaliese, Jenna, Valerie, Jacqueline, Jenny, Lauren B., Ashley, Tia, Maquel, and Chelsea are still in the running to become America’s Next Top Fiancée. Which means this is goodbye for Ali, Amber, Bri, Brittnae J., Jessica, Lauren J., Nysha and Olivia.
Emotionally drained and exhausted from the all-nighter, poor Jessica takes the rejection the hardest — but her tears are more for her father than the Bachelor. “Now my dad will never meet my husband,” she says sadly. (Remember kids: It’s never a bad time to call your parents to say “I love you.”) Amber the spray-tan proprietor is pretty crushed, too. “I’m so disappointed in myself,” she says in a wobbly voice. “I had, like, my family rooting so hard for me. I feel like they’re going to be disappointed, you know?” Focus on the positive, honey: They didn’t disown you for going on The Bachelor, so they’ll probably forgive you, someday, for getting kicked off.
Wow, have we made it to the “this season on The Bachelor” preview already? Man, those two hours just flew by. As usual, the super-tease has a stellar crying montage.
Suitable for framing. (Photos: ABC)
Oh, and how about that disembodied voice barking “I don’t want to be on the show! I want my girl!” at a producer toward the end of the preview? Any guesses on which “lady” that riled-up beau belongs to? (I’m going with Raven 2 or Krystal.)
Congrats on getting through week 1, rose lovers! Now tell me, did Arie meet your (lowered) expectations? Post your thoughts now! And be sure to check out Chris Harrison’s behind-the-scenes blog here.
The Bachelor airs Mondays at 8 p.m. on ABC.
Read more from Yahoo Entertainment:
Winter TV Preview: The scoop on 10 returning favorites
Inside the Bellas’ final riff-off in ‘Pitch Perfect 3’: An aca-oral history
New Year’s resolutions celebrities should be making for 2018
#_revsp:es-us.tv.yahoo.com#recaps#_uuid:124437ec-0fd1-329b-b8ac-d4277bcb62b1#_lmsid:a077000000CFoGyAAL#the bachelor#Arie Luyendyk Jr.#_author:Kristen Baldwin#_category:yct:001000086
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Freudian by Daniel Caesar (Album Review)
Freudian by Daniel Caesar
Daniel Caesar, the Canadian R&B and soul singer-songwriter, risked it all for his music career. He became frustrated by his stagnation and moved to the city; homeless pursuing stardom. The night of his graduation he left with a garbage bag full of clothes. Where he had to make his own family. He struggled early with his parents because of his desire to sing love songs in which they would tell him, “if you’re not going to sing songs glorifying God, anything that isn’t doing that specifically is glorifying Satan.” To which they finally came down to a mutual understanding that “God is love.”
“This whole album is the arc from the inception to the death of just the most intense relationship of my life.” – Beats 1 Interview
Get You became his breakout single which has amassed millions of streams pushing him into mainstream stardom. The song entails him being awe-struck with his capability of getting such an out of this world and way above his perceived “type” of a lover. The world is constantly experiencing droughts, famine, and natural disasters. Daniel explains how whenever he’s with her it’s like being in their own world. The song is in a self-reflective state where Daniel feels he doesn’t deserve everything he’s been given but simultaneously appreciative of it. In this relationship, they were both going through so many things together so being able to have that enhanced their bonding. He states that during this period he would have nonstop sex because there was nothing better to do. This is the first moment that Caesar introduces a principle of Freud, with the id. The id is the unconscious, impulsive part of the psyche which operates on the “pleasure principle” which seeks immediate pleasure and gratification. Kali Uchis states, “the memories, it’s all just memories” may allude to the suppression principle included in Freud’s studies. Kali displays gratitude towards her lover knowing that nothing is forever and to appreciate what you have now.
Best Part is the smooth honey-like duet we didn’t know we wanted. Alongside H.E.R. they express their adoration for their significant other. The beauty of being someone’s favorite anything is something long romanticized and fantasized about. He compares her to water when you’re stuck in a desert as someone he can’t live without. She is “the sunshine of [his] life” which is ironic that she is both the water that quenches him and the sunshine on his life which would dehydrate him in the first place. Despite the duality of love, she is the best part of his life. In a digital generation, the importance of movies and videos is extreme. A favorite movie is usually held close to someone’s heart and calling a lover the “best part” about it, is worth swooning over. “If you love me won’t you say something,” is both a plea and a question. Unaware if this person feels requited love for him. Often when you begin to hang out with someone feelings rise to the point of uncertainty – do they feel the same? Especially if they become the best part of your life’s movie. In a subtle beg, he whispers “love me, won’t you…?”
Hold Me Down, an interesting tale of insecurities and love that is tearing apart at the seams. It starts off with a soft conversation between Daniel and his girl asking “could you, could you say? ‘I love you Danny’” to which she replies, “you want me to?” and then she does. It then transitions into the chorus, “if you love me baby let me hear you say it,” he is certain that he is her favorite despite being left in the basement, thrown on the pavement. This imagery reminds me of Toy Story where Andy first gets Woody and expresses such love and admiration for it. Daniel/Woody’s ego blinds him to see no other reality but the fact he is the favorite despite being played with like a toy. Daniel becomes infatuated to the point he’s willing to start a family with her. He even astral projects into another dimension of how great the sex feels. He shows his imperfections by saying his spectacle of a life is a sad story and hopefully one day he will find glory – hopefully with her alongside him for the flight. All he wanted was to take her to “higher heights” yet she resisted leaving her comfort zone. He even acknowledges she had “dreams of a better life” possibly marriage but this time there seemed to be no hope of “making it through.” In the bridge, the female is introduced in the form of conversation with Daniel’s previous statements. On how Daniel is traveling far away with music that she’s left behind with pain where she begins to carry resentment. With his success bubbling the superego of Daniel could be strengthening to the point she is asking him who he thinks he is, “some kind of celebrity?” and threatening him to ‘wait and see’ if she sticks around much longer because of that. All Daniel asks her is to stay true to him and having to remind her of all the things he does. He played the game (music industry/being a toy) where all he wants is for the moment; some reassurance that she will hold him down.
Neu Roses (Transgressor’s Song), tells a story of his girlfriend who cheats on him. Neu Roses is wordplay for new roses/neurosis which portrays two forms of a dying relationship brought by infidelity hence she transgressed the trust. “Neurosis is a relatively mild mental illness that is not caused by organic disease, involving symptoms of stress (depression, anxiety, obsessive behavior, hypochondria) but not a radical loss of touch with reality.” This girl still recalls the fateful day she threw the love away of Daniel. It appears the resentment she held in the previous song caused her to act out of spite only later to beg for him not to leave. She realized that she made a big mistake, and to not “turn [her] sunshine to shade” as once she was that to him. She then states, “I know this is a game we play,” which would make it seem that they both had their “friends too” while she always came back because he took her breath away. He admits he “fucked with some empty cups” meaning hollow sex with multiple girls. He knows she has various partners, but he doesn’t want to run out on his luck, so he considers stopping from running amok. This could be reaction formation, a Freudian concept which one would switch unacceptable impulses into their opposites or a form of passive aggressiveness. Projection is another term that could be used here in his need to call her out for his own mistakes.
Loose is Daniel talking to himself about his toxic relationship and rationalizing the need to cut the rope. He begins to realize that she has built a depression (cloud over her head raining with thunder). The positives are outweighed by the negative. He is quick to lose patience with her and cause fights. He calls himself out on being a coward because he isn’t helping anyone not even himself by grasping onto a dead relationship. Daniel contemplates his power in this relationship and how if he can’t do it for himself, he should do it for her. Often, we see only the good in others we are with to the point that we stick out through horrid cycles of pain. We can’t seem to let go of what brings sunshine to your life and scared of the darkness that comes after.
We Find Love, a song about the beauties in the ugly of a relationship. He comes off in somber tone aware of the fact that it’s over, but still nostalgic about the good times. “You don’t love me anymore, let’s see how you like this song,” is a spiteful statement coming from a place of resentment and ego. He immortalizes her through this album, that’s where his power lies – in the success he obtains. He realizes since the day they met she was the “girl of his dreams” which is what Get You entails but deep down he knew they could never be no matter how hard they try. The hearts fragile tendencies fall down into which they break into pieces. This seems to showcase the cycle of what love is - finding it, uplifting your spirits, falling down, and then ultimately giving up on the love you would have died for.
Blessed showcases Daniel’s vulnerable state of awareness to his flaws. He has become dependent on this girl to the point he can’t go a moment without her. Her presence must be around or else he feels empty. Despite his horrible traits, he feels blessed to have a girl that is willing to stick with him through all his trials and tribulations. He considers her a home despite how broken he is, he will come back to her.
Take Me Away, he wants to sit back and enjoy the creation that God has manifested to him in the form of a beautiful woman who’s willing to cater to him. “Every time she tops me off, it’s celebration,” this is a double entendre for when you top off champagne it’s filled up to the brim and that she is performing oral sex on him as he sits back – what a reason to celebrate. “She loves to top me off … all she wants to do is please me.” Her willingness to perform oral sex on him is possibly due to an oral fixation she has which is an ideal of Freud through the oral stage. He asks himself what life has become due to his “strange new love” he has with her where they don’t speak much. The communication comes in the form of lust. She begs him to take her away to an orgasmic state. This next line I believe is the central and most crucial line in the whole album due to is the central theme of Freud, “Every time I go inside of your protected, place with reverence, I’m reminded of a time I was neglected.” It could mean at a time where he felt neglected in a relationship, but more so I believe it’s from neglect of love from his parents specifically his mother. His adoration and admiration of constant sex and wanting to escape reality comes from the psychosexual stages of the id’s pleasure-seeking energies – genital stage. This is the personality development concepts that Sigmund Freud discovered in his career.
Transform, the premise of the entire song is the ego and his battle with it for love. “If a leopard never changes its spots, how can I change what I’ve got?” he questions the way nature is and how it’s unfair that he’s expected to change if no one never questions the natural course that animals live their lives. Ego is in the way of his ability to change for his lover. He could feel mad now but once it fades away he will not have her there – a lonely life in the kingdom. He’s aware of his non-attractiveness so if this girl loves him, maybe he should come around. He’s addicted to her love and the energy with it, he baptized himself because it “saved his soul like Jesus.”
Freudian like DNA intertwines two strands of both his mother and his lover. The first verse has Daniel expressing to his girl that she is the reason she sings and hopes to preserve her in the form of art (or save their relationship). He takes a moment to thank her for saving his life and giving him advice that ultimately changed his life despite how they ended. The second verse is about his mother and the need to bring her honor. Through psychoanalysis, people are driven by two things: life instinct (the need for sexual and emotional bonding) and death instinct (aggressive drive). Sigmund Freud is famous for his Oedipus Complex which is characterized by a boy experiencing a form of sexual desire toward his mother or vice versa (for a female). The fact that he went back and forth with both his mother and girlfriend brings about the concept in an interesting way. We long for the reflection (or opposite) of our parent in our lovers. “Send me kisses when it’s grey skies, it’s been so long, look how time flies, if you love me won’t you let me know,” shows a longing for his past lover of wanting to know if she still has feelings for him. He now has the same grey skies he would give her and his sunshine is long gone.
Freudian (Outro), plays on an organ as Daniel sinks into an abyss of his own mind. “Isn’t it nice, human sacrifice,” and the universe’s form of “natural selection” of people and of ourselves. In many ways, that girlfriend is dead to him. As aforementioned, the “death instinct” is apparent here in his ability to sacrifice himself as an artist.
In his Beats 1 interview, he says, “I’m trying to live out Hero’s Journey, it’s sacrifice to a point… I’m putting my business out there.” The supernatural or even superego, where he meets helpers along the way in the form of lovers, to his death and rebirth, transformation and return to his highest being.
My personal favorite lines are: “They say I’m a martyr, charge that to my ego, I just want all the lights.”
He hears others call him a martyr for being vulnerable which only boosts his ego in thinking he is sacrificing himself for the greater good. When his selfishness drives him to only pursue his name in lights rather than for humanity. He continuously takes the “easy way out” each time where he brings dishonor to his own self.
“Vulnerability is the greatest thing. The reward is very high but the price is… [the danger is there, fear is there] but I guess that’s why it’s so awesome, ya know?”
The thrill of being open with your flaws is admirable for not many are able to accomplish such a feat in a compelling way. The risk to be shamed, “killed” through critique, and the online trolls that are out there in this world.
“It’s Freud, I’m trying to analyze, I’m like looking at myself, trying to figure myself out. It’s like looking in the mirror.”
To look at others we can easily project our fears and perceptions onto them without realizing it. However, the bravest thing one can do is look at themselves, look within themselves to decipher one’s own code. Why we are the way we are, psychoanalyze not just our positive but embracing our negative to become the complete hero.
Written by Erik De La Cruz
https://erikthegenius.com/
#daniel caesar#review#music#music review#daniel#caesar#freudian#album#writer#write#poetry#creative#ivy#her#syd#freud#sigmund freud#psychology#love#heartbreak#heart#break#pain#hero#kali uchis#music reviewer#freudian album#girlfriend#boyfriend#case study 01
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you’re just a kid, too preoccupied with your shit. now infatuated with another. at home for damn sure snapping her on your phone or pairing up hoes with your brother. out and about getting fucked up, you really think now that you’re hanging with her-you’re lucked up? eventually when you kiss her, you’ll get some flashbacks of me instead and you’ll be wishing me out of your head. then when hold her and hug her you’ll realize it’s me you wish you could squeeze cause her touch - it isn’t me. and eventually i promise it’ll be you that’s on their knees, you’ll be crying “where’s my baby bee?” i’ve already been through this, you see. do you really think you can just forget about me? after all, i always had your back whenever you’d fall. i don’t think you realize it now but when you do, fuck you, don’t bother to call; cause you would lie, it’s a fact you’re never able to swallow that pride. i heard about you and her the other night, i just no longer bother to put up a fight. because you didn’t want that my only option now is flight. it’s just crazy to me because you emphasized with me how it took a couple weeks, but now look at you boo it’s been less then two. and this is also your second round, the second girl in less than a month, haha how rude. i think it’s fair to conclude you’re kinda a pos, cmon lets go through. besides jay, ty what did i do to you? i only slipped up when we weren’t together, but whatever you never made me your main when i was always tryna make you better n that’s when we were n werent together. i was always loyal. i never played games. i never cheated, i didn’t lie but by you that wasn’t repeated. in fact somehow you always somehow left me feeling defeated. now you’re constantly out or around, always surrounded with the wrong crowd. with some punks or young kids. im not gonna lie kinda makes me wanna flip my lid. i saw so much potential in you until you showed me you’re a dead rose who won’t bloom. is your brain just that undeveloped or do you genuinely wanna be a little girls groom? like why most the girls you talk to be coming fresh outta high school? cmon ty you’re 22! they fantasize cause youre an older dude. maybe with a pretty face and a body too. but don’t you see that they’re only tryna get high and smoke with you? of course they don’t care about the shit like i do, because the difference is i wanted to build and grow with you. not to mention we’ve all got totally different mindsets too. i don’t know why i keep stressing when all you wanna do is find hoes to keep undressing. i’m not just out for a good time, i gotta stay steady and grind while keeping a one track mind. i want a house i want a family i’m not just tryna get high and get by. i ain’t tryna throw shots but after all i ain’t comparable to these thots but you know this already don’t act like you forgot. it would be different if it was a select few but they’re all young and tbh it makes me feel so uncomfortable and dumb. and this girl i know for a fact lacks maturity, so you being with her isn’t really hurting me. you deserve each other. maybe you’ll finally be happy, maybe she won’t act like your mother. but hey since she’s so young maybe you’ll be smart enough to at least use a rubber. fuck this. there’s no competition. i refuse, i need a new wish list. my perception is all changed. who the hell are you? i heard about how you drew the “backside” of her in your sketchbook 2.god you have no idea how bad i wish that wasn’t true. that makes me beyond sick, what is wrong with you? she was 17 then, i mean i guess she was NY legal. but still that’s a little creepy- all while still seeing me, you think that wasn’t lethal? shit even if you weren’t, having done that’s a bit bordo pedo. not only am i quite more disgusted but i’m starting to think you’re a weirdo. and when you gonna stop coming through my drive thru incognito? (i can see you, you suck) sometimes i wish i could enter your head so i could understand. what the fuck is going on, where is tyler lavon bonner? is he brain dead? you’ve used me all you could its clear that’s what i was for
thank you though, because youve taught me to always keep one foot out the door. now you’re someone i can no longer stand. just promise me one thing-don’t come back to me when you’re done holding her hand. i’ve learned you can do everything and anything for someone, you could give them the moon stars the sun and then some. sometimes it don’t matter-they will still have the audacity to tell you it’s something you never had to and shouldn’t have done. but when they have a mind that works with their own intentions, you’ll learn slowly that you weren’t ever the one. they confuse you and it fucks you. it’s only the truth you wish they’d mention. you know it’s crazy cause things were so beautiful when we first met. i truly believe i was the girl of your dreams—you told me it was heaven sent. but you constantly drained me. after promising you’d never break me. because you only wanted me for your own, so i pushed away my friends, my family, all for you, so i could give you a home. my soul was bright and my energy was pure. you only wanted me for yourself -you made it so that no one else could get close. then i only had you, but that sucked because i only mattered when it was convenient for you. you always claiming you a crown king. but you’re a crown clown. clowns are full of jokes and silly fronts. you’ve done nothing but leave me homeless if i’m to be blunt.
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Neyru Part 1
"Crap." The purple haired girl cursed under her breath as she sat in the cafeteria of the space station she rented a room from. Laid out before her was all of the money she currently owned and there wasn't much to say the least. Soft lilac colored eyes stared down with worry as she brought her hand up to her lips to chew her knuckle from nervousness. She was behind on rent, way behind, though it wasn't her fault technically... She had fallen ill for quite a while and since no one really specialized in the medication needed for her kind, it was something she had to ride out. After finally getting better and back on her feet she had found herself in a bit of a dry spell, goods to trade and barter with were running low for her since it had been mid rotation and that was the worst time to try and make business in this galaxy.
"It could be worse." She told herself. That's right! She could be dead... Actually that didn't seem so bad at the moment since she was about to be homeless on a space station of all things. Her nails began to rhythmically tap against the metal table as she was deep in thought. There wasn't much to do about it now and if she could get to her room fast enough, perhaps she could gather her things and make a run for it. What were the chances of them actually pursuing her anyway? There were other things to worry about after all, right?
With her mind made up, Neyru stood and gathered up all her things and stuffed them in her pockets before making sure they were closed and secure from prying hands. However, anyone stupid enough to make a move on her would mean they were new. Now, Neyru didn't have a bad or tough reputation, but it was known that the girl was able to handle herself despite her size compared to some of the other aliens that roamed about.
She walked down the halls quietly, no eye contact, no words. The halls of the space station were actually much more quiet than some would expect. People here weren't exactly chatty actually, most of them kept to themselves since this wasn't exactly a dorm of friends and family. Most people here were passerby's, looking for a few nights stay or something of the sort. Neyru and a select few others had been making this place their home and while the rent seemed outrageous for the little space, it came with free parking for a ship, power, water, and breakfast if you got up early enough. So while it wasn't ideal, it was home... if you could even call it that.
She scoffed at the thought. Home. This place didn't deserve the title. The place reeked of a metal stench since the whole place was made from it, it wasn't a place of grandeur so it wasn't a worry to whomever owned the blasted piece of junk. The floors were stained and rusty looking but it wasn't going to give away anytime soon... The windows, she hated them the most, were small port holes and there was one here and there. People could call themselves lucky if they landed a room that had one. Neyru was not one of those people.
As she continued her walk she passed a family that were working on making their way out to continue what ever trip they were on. Of course she liked to think it was a happy trip, a vacation of sorts where everyone could simply relax and enjoy each other without fighting. That wasn't the case and she knew this for a fact. The mulberry haired girl had seen it time and time again, families on the run from Zarkon because him and his fleet and followers made their way to a planet and began to take over. Those who are lucky enough to make it out usually end up here to rest before moving again. This was by no means a safe haven for anyone, she had seen the Galra come to this place a few times to collect people or to simply torment the passerby's and each and every time it made her sick. What made her stomach drop more was the fact that she hid from them, afraid that they would realize she was one of the few Xicreans left and take her in for whatever reason. She didn't want to be a coward, she really didn't, but... What could she possibly accomplish alone? She didn't have friends or family...
And there it was, that feeling again. She hated that feeling. Loneliness. It didn't come often since she would normally keep herself busy and her eye on the money to keep on surviving. Damn her brain for wandering again! If she didn't glance over at that family and started with all this stupid thinking,, she wouldn't be here! But where was here, exactly? She had nothing to live for, nothing to show for it, no friends, family, was she even living at this point? A frustrated look over came her and her lips formed a frown as she began to pull those thoughts from the roots and out of her head. She wasn't the only one dealing with this. She wasn't alone by choice, none of the people here were. For the most part those who were still alive lived in some form of helplessness thanks to Zarkon and his forces. So... in some twisted way she wasn't alone because almost every poor soul here was like her, or was going to end up like her.
Her thoughts continued on the subject but had suddenly came to a halt when she realized one of the space station employees had her room door wide open and clearing out the space. She stood there a moment and made a quick map in her head of all the things she needed to get out of there. So far they only moved the boxes which contained her maps, which was fine since she could always get new ones.
"Hey!" She called out to the green short and stout being and looked down at him with a slight smile. "Mind if I get a few personal things before you officially kick me out?" She asked him, knowing this one would say yes. He was one of the kinder employees, that or he was too old to argue and make a ruckus. Just as she suspected he nodded and stepped aside, taking a seat on the ground to catch his breath. Not all the boxes were exactly light and she knew that.
Neyru stepped into the small space and glanced around, her expression stoic. It was dim and tiny. If she extended her arms all the way the tips of her fingernails would be able to touch the walls. Her bed was set high so she had to climb to get on and under that was where all her storage was located which held her personal belongings. There was also a small oven looking contraption where she would put in small shiny and silver packets that would materilize into food, this made the cafeteria less crowded and it was cheaper anyway. She glanced to the corner were her toilet was along with a small sink and she thought about the days she would sit on that toilet and wash herself as best she could without making too much of a mess.
"Maybe it's better this way." She tried to convince herself as she grabbed a knapsack and began to fill it with things she figured would be needed. A change of clothes, a small book with personal notes, some dry food, water, and last but not least the only thing she had of her heritage. She held up the pretty silver chain that had an iridescent jewel attached to it. It was pretty and simple and truth be told, Neyru loved how ti changed colors whenever you moved it. She had been found with it as a baby and had been glad no one in the village she grew up in decided to take it. At the time it was worn around her neck but as she grew older, she found she was only able to fit it around her head so that the jewel sat in the middle of her forehead. Not exactly ideal for her, it looked more like a tiara of sorts that way. Neyru kept it regardless, not sure if it was from her parents or not though, she liked to think so whenever she pondered over the small trinket.
She pocketed the necklace or whatever it was and secured it, not wanting to lose something that was precious to her despite not knowing to much about her heritage. She knew what planet she was from, what happened to it and small tid bits like how her planet was now a frozen waste land and while it made her sad perhaps it was better to have little to no memory. She wondered however, if the dreams she sometimes had were of her life as a toddler on that lush and wondrous looking place... if it even looked lush and wondrous. For all she knew it could have been an all ocean planet with islands here and there. Either way it didn't matter since when people asked where she was from she would tell them from the planet Tryenk, which wasn't a complete lie. She did grow up there even if she had no actual family. Still, the people there were kind to her and she spent every night in someone else's home. Someone would always feed her and she would spend her days playing with the other children or learning something due to someone's kindness. Every so often she would make a stop there to see how everyone was doing, afraid Zarkon would take them away from her too. So far she had been lucky enough to say that they were safe.. for now.
"You should hurry up, they want to rent this room." The green older alien popped his head in and Neyru merely looked back with a slight smile. "I'm finished, thank you." She gave a small wave good bye before tightening the harness of her knapsack to her body so that it couldn't be snatched away from her body. She was more than happy to invest in such an expensive item. She had it for years and it was still in amazing condition! The material was water proof and even heat proof to a certain extent and was made with thread that couldn't easily break so the thing would stay in one piece easily for two Clorinian life times! That species sure did know how to build and sew great things!
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Half Agony, Half Hope- 2
As you can see, this isn't a fluffy fic to start out. There's going to be plenty of angst and sad feels, especially for poor Sherls. But hopefully you know me well enough by now to know that it won't be like that forever. ;)
Check out the first chapter, and read and subscribe on AO3!
Sherlock reached further back into the fridge and grabbed a little bowl of something appealing. He lifted it toward where Mary was sitting with Rosie. “It this for the baby?”
“Yes,” she answered with a little smile.
“And by baby do you mean me?” He could read her tone pretty accurately by now.
“You know where the spoons are,” Mary added, offering Rosie some more food in her highchair. “There’s only one baby I feed here.”
Sherlock glanced at his watch while grabbing a spoon from the drawer. He only had a few minutes to have a snack before he’d have to be off again.
“Hi,” John announced his presence as he came walking into the kitchen. He promptly did a little double take at the sight of Sherlock leaning against his fridge and eating a bowl of custard.
“Afternoon, John,” Sherlock said with a smile. “Not to worry, I’ll be leaving soon. Just thought I’d pop in to say hello.”
“And have a bite,” John added, eyeing what was likely a snack he’d wanted for himself.
"Oh and you'll be leaving again soon as well," Sherlock added.
“Hang on, why am I leaving? I just got home.”
"I think you two have plans.” Mary got up and kissed his confused face while making her way over to grab a cloth to wipe Rosie’s face.
John sighed. "Why? What's going on?"
“Double homicide, John,” Sherlock explained with his mouth full. “Don’t you track the news?”
“Ok so did Lestrade ask you for help?”
"No." Sherlock grinned. "But he's going to."
A moment later, the Watson’s doorbell rang.
“Ah yes, that’s for me,” Sherlock announced cheerily. He set his snack down and made his way happily to the door.
“How did you know to tell me where to find you this morning?” Lestrade asked while following Sherlock back to the kitchen. He paused to say hello to the Watsons. “That story just hit the news an hour ago!”
“Homeless network,” Sherlock explained simply, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and cracking it open to take a swig. “Faster than the media at times.”
Lestrade shook his head. “Ok well, anyway, I’m gonna need your help on this one.”
“Obviously.” He shrugged his coat back over his shoulders. “You coming, John?”
“Apparently,” John answered wearily, leaning over to kiss Rosie and Mary. “It’s your turn next time, ok?”
“Just try and stop me,” Mary said with a wink at both John and Sherlock.
Twenty minutes later the three men were strolling down the long hallways in the basement of Bart’s hospital, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent space. They pushed through the doors of the morgue and one of the familiar pathologists greeted them. He gestured to the two bodies that were laid out and then began rattling off some information from a clipboard.
"Yes, yes, we already know all of that, thank you," Sherlock stated impatiently. "What I need you to do is to do a DNA test on them."
The young man looked confused. "Oh um...I don't know if-"
"I'm sure you will discover that they are in fact related."
"Sherlock, the victims don't know each other," Lestrade countered.
"And if you were listening, you'll note that I said related, which is not necessarily the same thing as knowing someone. I'd think you can spot the difference."
Lestrade sighed, then looked at the pathologist. "Yeah ok, go ahead and do what he says."
"Well it might take some time," the man stated hesitantly.
"Yes, obviously," Sherlock agreed. "So you'll need to begin the process immediately."
"I'll have to run it by my boss though."
Sherlock turned on him and glared. "Run it by your boss? This is a murder investigation and the Inspector has told you to proceed with these instructions. What exactly is more pressing?"
"Well, it's just that she told me I had to check any changes with her first. She'll actually be back in five or ten minutes. If you'd like to wait, you can speak to her yourself."
"Yes, perhaps I would," Sherlock said haughtily. "And exactly which boss is this you're speaking of? Is it that idiot Dr. Andrews?"
"No, I'm talking about the new head of pathology, Dr. Hooper."
Something short circuited in Sherlock's chest and for a moment he forgot how to take a breath. He stared back at the man wide eyed for a moment. "W-what did you say?" he finally questioned.
"I said Dr. Hooper," he repeated. "Dr. Molly Hooper started just this week."
"Sherlock?" John questioned, clearly noticing that his friend had gone mute.
"So...did you want to wait for her?" the pathologist asked.
Sherlock blinked and then cleared his throat. "I- no that won't be necessary. You may speak to her for us. Just start the process as soon as possible." He began walking out of the morgue almost before he'd finished his sentence, the two men rushing to follow after him.
"What was that?" John questioned as Sherlock headed for the nearest exit.
"What was what?"
"Why did you just decide to leave? I thought you wanted to speak to his boss."
"It would have been a waste of time," he answered quickly. "Lestrade, you may follow up."
Lestrade frowned. "What? You don't want to?"
"I'm rather busy."
"This is our only case right now," John commented, exchanging a look with Lestrade.
Sherlock didn't bother trying to explain himself further as they made their way out of the building and onto the street.
"Text me when you have any new details," he said to Lestrade and made his way to one of the cabs sitting idle. "This one is mine."
Sherlock jumped in and instructed the cabbie to drive, leaving his two friends in a state of utter confusion on the street outside of Bart's hospital.
And as he sat there alone in the silence of that cab, that was when the memories came crashing in on him. The months and months worth of memories, most of which he'd convinced himself he'd successfully deleted.
He hadn't though, if he were honest with himself. No, they didn't always surface. But in the deepest darkest hours of the night they would haunt the halls of his mind palace over these eight long years. But at least they had only been memories. Shadows and echoes and ghosts; nothing truly real. He supposed he could handle that. He’d lived with it this long, and he assumed he could go on living with it longer still. He’d lived with that invisible illness that ate away from the inside and was never completely sated. The plague of regret. But even that, he believed he could survive. Because at least he’d been spared one thing. Well, up till now.
He hadn’t been forced to see her.
Yes, he knew everything there was to know about Molly Hooper already. It was all stored safely in his mind. Every outline and contour of her face and body, the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair, the feel of her hands, and the taste of her lips and skin. He was well aware he’d never be rid of any of that. But to live it and experience it in person again…it seemed far too great a weight to bear. And he worried that it might just break him all over again.
Molly had wanted so much. She’d wanted things that she had every right to. Things that she deserved. Likely she’d finally gotten those things now. Sherlock felt a dull ache in his chest as he wondered who might be coming to London with Molly as she accepted this new job. He'd kept up with her professionally but had resisted the temptation of digging into any details about her personal life. But now he wondered...would she be bringing a husband? Perhaps even children? In some ways he hoped so. She deserved to have the happiness she was so cruelly deprived of earlier in life.
Sherlock stared out the cab window at the busy streets of London that rushed by him. He’d come so far over the years, making a career and a name for himself. And so had Molly. She had the career she’d dreamed of since she was young. Both of them had made something of themselves in almost every way in which a person could. And by any estimation, both their lives were success stories. He did attempt to remind himself of those things very often. But beneath those things, that persistent regret lurked and superseded much of that supposed success for him. Perhaps his feelings could partly be attributed to the passage of time and all that he’d learned about the world, and people, and mostly about himself. But whatever the reason, one thing was very sure to him now.
He now thought very differently from how he was persuaded to think some eight years before.
Don't worry, some sherlolly interactions will begin in the next chapter. ;)
Oh and in case you hadn't noticed seen, it's now official that @artbylexie and I are co authors for this fic. Yay! We're awfully excited to be teaming up for this one! :D
#sherlolly#mollock#half agony half hope#artbylexie#persuasion AU#no more full chapter posting on here after this one#just on AO3#so hit that subscribe button!#;D
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