Authors note: Enjoy a short Chuckie x reader based on Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers, so yeah it’s a little angsty <\3 Also please be nice, this is my first writing post!! This whole idea just came down in one sitting, meanwhile I’ve been painfully working on my Bones draft for a week to no avail! Let me know if I should make it into something longer or if you have any other Chuckie requests!
Warnings/reader notes: Angst, just general sad vibes, feeling left behind, some minor verbal fighting, crying.
Sporadic tufts of white danced through the air towards the grey murky slosh of snow on the streets. Tires sprayed the muck as a faded blue Oldsmobile delta raced around a bend. Lost in thought, Chuckie’s foot lay heavy on the accelerator. His gaze was locked on no fixed point in front of him, as he had driven down this road so many times. He wondered if there was ever a day he hadn’t.
Same house, same car, same job, same town. Nothing had changed except the people he loved, they kept leaving for something bigger. Outside of Southie, Chuckie had nothing except some far strung relatives who hadn’t seen him since he was a baby. His closest friend, a brother beyond the confines of blood, had finally left town to chase his dreams. He was proud, excited for him. All Chuckie ever wanted was for Will to live to the seemingly infinite potential his mind possessed.
But Chuckie was not blessed with such an exit ticket. Average at his job, below average in school, living with his mother, single, he struggled to think of something that was uniquely his. Beyond the confines of his rusty car, nothing came to mind. His knuckles grew as white as the snow that fell upon the blue bonnet.
With Will gone, nothing was left to punctuate the hollow weeks of his life. Their friendship, that was his. The one thing he knew he had. He was still a regular at the local dive bar, alongside Morgan and Billy, but it was not the same. He told the same far fetched stories, drank the same amount of beer, if not more, but something nagged at him. He had spent so long projecting onto Will to get up and pursue what he was passionate about, but now he was faced with the same projection upon himself.
He felt like a deer within his own headlights. Staring and pointing at his own reflection, self-critical of every mistake, every missed opportunity, every failed attempt to do something with his life. But he avoided prodding a particular wound that still stung. Sure, he lost Will in some ways, he’ll still visit or call at least. But the way he lost you was different. You stopped speaking beside a forced passing pleasantry when he picked up your brother.
A blur of faded blue screeched down a side street, as the car practically flew over the snowy speed humps.
But Will had left and even the possibility of that brief interaction was now lost. He hated to admit it to himself, but perhaps that was why losing Will hurt so badly. He had lost both of his friends in one fell swoop. To think that it was from his encouragement too. He never considered how much it would hurt to sacrifice his own dreams for Will succeed in his own. He dreamed of a family, with you as his wife, the mother of his children and Will, forever the brother by his side. But that life was so very short lived, if even lived at all.
He sighed at the ache that remained, absentmindedly taking a drag of his cigarette. The ash grew and fell onto the seat as he maintained his empty gaze. He felt like his whole world kept moving before him, whilst he stood still in place. He couldn’t leave his job, he didn’t know how to do anything else. He didn’t even want to, he was good enough at his trade and working for his father had some benefits. He was desperately clawing for something to be passionate about or particularly good at. Sure, he could demolish a building, but so could the other 20 guys on the site. 20 guys who had been demolishing all of their lives. The path he was destined to follow.
He drew in another long drag from his cigarette. The smoke flowed slowly out of his nostrils as his jaw clenched. The deteriorated, 20-year-old Southie projects ran steadily along each street he turned into.
He had always known he was born in Boston, and he’d die in Boston. As far as he was concerned, there was never another option. He had always felt content in that, but he wondered if its inevitability forced him to believe it to be own decision. Just to live with it. That his whole life had a pre-determined trajectory. Work his ass off for a medicore pay check, spend half of it on a family he couldn’t afford with a woman he never intended to marry and the other half on booze, just to forget about it all for a little while.
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt in control of his life. Maybe when he almost had you. But he couldn’t even control that. It slipped away as soon as it came. Being Will’s sister, his fear of telling Will about how he felt about you paralysed him. A coward. He recalled the words with a dull ache in his bones. That’s what you had called him. He pushed you away hoping his feelings would pass. But it never did.
The car jolted to a halt. Chuckie had no recollection of the manoeuvres it took to reach his destination.
He finally focused his gaze to see a familiar house. His subconscious had taken his favourite route. One it must’ve forgotten he has no need for anymore. He sighed, moving to shift the car back into first gear, when he saw a figure in his rear view mirror slowly approaching.
You crunched through the snow with raised, heavy steps, lugging a bag of groceries with a sullen expression. Your eyes were fixed on the ground before you as your mind raced in thought.
Before he could think, Chuckie flung open his car door, flicking his stub of a cigarette into the slow. It made the faintest fizzle upon contact. Your thoughts occupied your mind so greatly that you were unaware of the motion before you.
‘Hey.’ He called out, standing up out of the car. Icy vapour trails followed behind the single word like a punctuation mark.
You froze in place. Silhouetted by your frosty driveway, Chuckie thought your snow covered hair and cold expression resembled a snow angel.
‘What are you doing here?’ You stammered, trying to maintain your guard. Your heart threatened to spill out at any moment and all you wanted to do was drop your heavy bag and hide.
‘I uh… actually don’t know. I just kind of arrived here.’ Chuckie shoved his pants deep into his pockets, his finger tips growing pale and numb.
‘Oh, okay.’ Your eyes narrowed in an effort to hold back your tears.
He bit his lip in shame. Cursing himself internally, he wondered why he ever came. Not that he really intended to. As he did whenever he felt an uncomfortable silence, which to him were all silences, he scrambled to fill it. ‘It’s good to see you though. How are you doin’ since Will left?’
He had once known this place like a second home. Now, he faced you out in the cold like a stranger. An airplane slowly hummed as it flew somewhere within the overcast sky.
‘Fine. I’m fine,’ you looked down at your feet. ‘Will… he’s doing good. I think. Enjoying the job, found a place with Skylar.’
‘Yeah I know, I called him yesterday.’ He paused for a moment.
‘I asked how you were though, not Will.’
‘I said I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Same as ever.’ You struggled to hold yourself back, shifting the distribution of the bag in your arms. ‘Not sure why you care now. You haven’t asked me anything for a whole year. So what, now Will’s gone you think you have courage? You’re not brave for waiting ‘till he’s not here to say something…’ your voice faltered, fading to a near whisper, ‘and I’ve stopped waiting for you a long time ago.’
Chuckie’s head began to swirl, he felt as if his heart was caught in his throat. He didn’t even mean to be here. This shouldn’t be happening. Words he only heard in nightmares, that forced him up with a gasp, drenched in sweat.
‘I uh… um.’ For the first time in his life, he was speechless. His fists buried further into his pockets as he softly kicked the mound of snow before him.
‘Why are you here, Chuckie. You couldn’t have seriously thought everything would be fine. When you stepped on me to stay close with Will.’
Words began to rise to his lips before he could even think. ‘I didn’t mean to. I don’t fuckin’ know. Yeah, I was a dick…’ he sighed, ‘but I was afraid. I didn’t know life without Will. Honestly now I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing anymore. I’ve been doing the same shit every day for my whole life. It’s never changed.’ He wiped his frozen red nose with the back of his hand, ‘Well, now it has. So no, I don’t think I’m brave. I know I’ve been a coward. That’s all I’ve been thinking about. But then I looked up and I was here and I saw you. That has to mean something.’
An angry tear forged a warm trail down your cheek. ‘What does it mean, Chuckie? That showing up here and reminding me of everything that’s happened is somehow going to make it better?’
‘No. It means… fuck.’ He coughed, trying to hide the shake in his voice as his own tears threatened to spill, ‘It means I have a chance to tell you that I’m sorry,’ he shook his head looking up to the empty grey sky, hiding the tears that swelled in his eyes.
The weight of your bag upon your arm buckled as it tumbled into the snow. A sob escaped your lips. Chuckie hurried towards you in quiet desperation, pulling you into his chest.
‘I know,’ you whispered against him.
Only as his head rested above your own, a tear fell from his constrained expression. His hands clutched to the loose fabric of your coat with all of his strength.
You were not an exit ticket.
You were the meaning to the humdrum of it all, and he was yours.
Tagged by the wonderful @inkedmoth to share the last line I wrote which, to nobody's great surprise, is from The Mission That Started It All.
Tonight I've been writing the final paragraphs of the last chapter and omg wow this silly little story has come so far 😭 I've also decided - right at the end of the fic - that the unknown mineral probably needs a name, and I've decided to name it after a little OC I dropped into Part 8:
It was Ensign Franks, however, who identified that the insects' elevated mineral concentration was due to their diet; they fed on mineral-enriched nectar in surrounding flowers, and the compound accumulated in their tissues faster than their bodies could expel it.
The Federation databases had been updated, and the Botany lab had a new designated sample tray labelled Frankon; a name you had chosen for the mineral in honour of Ensign Franks’ contribution.
It's a bit more than one line, but I'm so proud of the link back to Part 4, where Spock is the one who initially notices that the alien insects have a much higher concentration of the unknown mineral than anything else on the planet. And it feels scienceyyyyy even though it's made up hahaha 😅
Me, not a scientist, writing this fic:
No-pressure tags go to @emmathefanficgal @dilettantefeminist and @boysscouthater
If you didn’t say so I’d assume you just knew your stuff! I’m so excited to catch up on the latest chapter of The Mission That Started It All tonight!
I actually wrote my first fic this evening in an inspired single sitting which is always a nice feeling. Especially when writing my Leonard fic has been like pulling teeth, I’m just having the craziest block with it right now! Anyways, I just published the new fic, yay!
Here is the first part of the new fic, it’s Chuckie Sullivan (Ben Affleck in Good Will Hunting) x reader. I’m happy with how it came out so I just decided to share my favourite part:
Sporadic tufts of white danced through the air towards the grey murky slosh of snow on the streets. Tires sprayed the muck as a faded blue Oldsmobile delta raced around a bend. Lost in thought, Chuckie’s foot lay heavy on the accelerator. His gaze was locked on no fixed point in front of him, as he had driven down this road so many times. He wondered if there was ever a day he hadn’t.
Same house, same car, same job, same town. Nothing had changed except the people he loved, they kept leaving it for something bigger. Outside of Southie, Chuckie had nothing except some far strung relatives who hadn’t seen him since he was a baby. His closest friend, a brother beyond the confines of blood, had finally left town to chase his dreams. He was proud, excited for him. All Chuckie ever wanted was for Will to live to the seemingly infinite potential his mind possessed.
Also more than one line, but felt like I was on a roll there haha but I’m proud of this fic because I think it covers some real life things, even if very briefly as it is short!
I don’t really know many people on here yet so my no pressure tags go to all readers, please reach out and let’s be friends! 🫶
Celebrate with me by sharing pics & gifs of your favourite blorbos! Doesn't matter who they are, or which movies/shows/books they're from. If they live rent-free in your brain, I want to see them! 😍😍
I'll start with my beautiful Leonard McCoy 🤩
And my all-time favourite blorbo, the dirty sweaty ranger himself ❤️❤️
Working on a draft for a Star Trek Leonard fic? But it’s like super long?? And not good 😭 But this story has been playing in my head for too long to leave it there soooooo I’m working on it!! It’s giving friends to lovers angst 😗
Also lowk have a soa fic in mind too but I love my ideas in my head but then it’s not the same thing when I try to write it ughhhh!!
