AND I RUN

CHRISTOPHER O'CONNELL. "i'll use you as a warning sign, that if you talk enough sense you might lose your mind. and i'll use you as a focal point, so i don't lose sight of what i want." 41. FATHER. OWNER OF NAILS AND HAMMERS.

[christopheriisms]

REINA THANE​:

CLOSED / @christopheriisms​ LOCATION: Chris’s home TIME: June 19th, around 10pm

To say it’s been a long day would be an incredible understatement. Not only did she drive a knife into the man she’s been married to for more than half of her life, she also recruited her sister to help feed his body to the fucking gators. In short, the day had been a mess and while Reina had somehow managed to keep a grip on her emotions and keep herself in check for the entirety of it, it wasn’t until she found herself alone in the house she’d just murdered Jason in that she felt herself starting to break. It’d taken all but an hour or so and two heavily poured glasses of wine to make the decision to get the fuck out of there, driving seemingly without aim until she found herself accidentally pulling into Chris’s driveway.

She doesn’t even hesitate to make her way up to the front door — which is saying something because she definitely looks like a hot mess and she’s got a bruise that’s swollen to the high heavens covering half of her face. Reina somehow forgets all of that, though, as she knocks twice and waits for Chris to answer — although she suddenly loses her nerve a bit when he does. “Hi.” God, Reina’s never been this fucking lame in her life. But she’s exhausted and anxious and above all, she’s kind of fucking upset which is an emotion she doesn’t entirely know what to do with. Rowan’s been there for her all day but she’s got her own family to go home to and deal with, not to mention the addition of Reina’s kids for the night, and while Reina likes to pretend that she’s just fine on her own, the aftermath of what happened today unfortunately isn’t something she can deal with alone. “I know it’s late,” she continues, running a hand through her hair before crossing her arms tightly over her chest in an effort to appear nonchalant — an effort that probably isn’t fucking working in the slightest considering the state she’s in. “I figured Lala’s already asleep and you could maybe talk for a few minutes.”

Chris was cleaning up for the night, making sure Lala took her medications before he tucked her into bed. He was tinkering about in the kitchen, half his mind of his daughter’s condition, the other half....honestly, he’s not sure. It’s mindless work, cleaning up the sink and turning on the food waste disposal, right around the time when there’s a knock at his door. Giving the clock a cursory glance, he’s surprised. Did Andy drop by for a midnight visit? Seemed unlikely, but he was going to keep an open mind. His door swung open, coming face to face with Reina. “Hey...yeah, come on inside. I’ll...I’ll make us some coffee...” He doesn’t move from his place at the door though, as if he’s waiting for some kind of sign. 

It doesn’t take him long before he moves from the door, letting the woman in before he closes the door behind her. “Yeah, she’s...she’s asleep...” Chris’s eyes study Reina, because nothing about this appearance is normal, and he can see the purple bruising. “What happened to you? You look like you got into a fight...” The smile drops before it can even grow, because he can tell this isn’t a joking matter. He gestures to one of the seats at the table, before he’s turning to his refrigerator to grab a cold bag of peas. “For the swelling...” 

[christopheriisms]

TEAGAN MARON​:

SPECIAL DELIVERY TO: @christopheriisms

LOCATION: Olympus Nature Reserve

DATE / TIME: July 3rd around  4pm-ish

It had been weeks since Teagan had seen Chris after delivering him the unexpected news about his daughter’s headache which happened to be caused due to a tremor growing in her brain. The whole purpose why she had invited him out wasn’t to talk about the case entirety ─ this is something she’ll do in the professional setting her office. If anything, the brunette was using it as an excuse to check up on him and see what has all been going on with him. There happened to be a brief exchange between the pseudo-family when Lala ran over to Teagan earlier at Maddie’s birthday party but afterwards, they went separate ways in the vast backyard space. Rarely did she get to leave the hospital before 7pm and considering how beautiful the weather happens to be, another reason to take advantage of the odd, yet beautiful Louisiana weather on this Friday afternoon at the Reserve. 

In a leisure amble, finally finding a moment within her to break the silence and to initiate a conversation even though they just greeted each other. “Thanks for agreeing to this,” she comments in an appreciative tone with a soft beam, holding onto her reusable water bottle. Typically she could’ve gone without but it was her own fault for not following what she harped so often to her patients ─ drink plenty of water which she failed to do today. “I just wanted to check up on you. Not about the case unless you want to talk about that. Otherwise, just how to see what’s all been going on with you.” Head craning toward his direction, only to catch a glimpse of the male before hazel hues focused upon the path ahead. “Has Javier been up to any nonsense recently? Or is that just someone going around spreading false news?” Now, her tone was comical, just trying to make this comfortable without any worries from either one of their behaves. 

Today is one of those rare times that Lala decides that she wants to spend time with her auntie Jo, who had picked her up right after breakfast. Something about spending girl time in the city, and the only time Lala would ever leave Javier at home. Meaning, at the farm. Teagan’s call, her request to meet up at the Reserve did come unexpected, but he really didn’t have a lot to do, so he said yes. He trusted his new employee, a kid named Matty, who had started working at the store for about a month or so, to make sure that he locked up when he was done for the day. So replacing his rubber boots for some hiking shoes, he packs up the essentials; water, granola bars and seeds. Hopefully, it wasn’t a full on trail hike, otherwise Teagan would have mentioned something, right? 

They’ve been walking for a while, Chris noting how pleasant the weather was. The silence, albeit not oppressive, demanded to be broken, and he was about to open his mouth to talk about the weather, but he stopped short. “...Yeah, of course. I’ve been meaning to get some outdoor action, you know...that’s not the farm, I mean. Thanks for callin’ me, and checkin’ up on Lala. She’s...well, she’s takin’ it about as well as you’d think...” Truth be told, they haven’t talked about it, with Lala being evasive and Chris toeing the line on this topic, not sure how much he should be pushing her to talk. “Everythin’s fine, thanks for asking. What ‘bout you, Teagan? Did insurance get back to ya about the shop? And and I couldn’t help but notice somethin’ at Maddie’s party last week...” He smirks at her; he doesn’t mean to pry, but he did notice her and Jer growing closer, and he’s curious. He chuckles at the news about Javier, shaking his head. “Well, that goat’s always gettin’ himself in messes, so I won’t be surprised if he’s done something dumb already. But I’ve noticed the goats have been shittin’ less....unless someone’s cleanin’ up after them quicker than you please...”

[christopheriisms]

REINA THANE​:

Chris can’t help himself, moving up just enough so that he can see Reina between his legs. The attention she’s giving his cock is more than complimentary, and before he knows it, he’s hard again. Just her touch was enough to drive him wild, his hands stroking her jaw before moving into her hair. “Fuck....” He needs a moment from looking at her working, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as Reina went in and out, in and out with her mouth. “Fuck...Reina...” His vocabulary was limited to a few phrases, and his hand curled up in her inky locks, tightening ever so slightly when the pleasure became too much. 

“You’re too damn...” The man was panting, back in his original position of looking at his woman driving him wild, almost fascinated by how magical Reina’s mouth was.  While he was no stranger to female attention, this was beyond the physical attraction. Chris loves this woman, he loves everything about her. And that’s what makes the moment even more special to him. “Babe...I’m gonna...fuck, I’m gonna come...” 

[freedmarkus]

Josh Duhamel as James O'Connor in The Lost Husband 5/?

[christopheriisms]

MIRIAM METZGER​:

starter: @christopheriisms​ where: nails and hammers when: sunday morning

Someday, Miriam would learn to say no to her mother. Someday, she would be able to tell her that she couldn’t just pop by whenever she wanted to “check in.” Someday, she would stand her ground and say she doesn’t care who owns her fucking house, as long as she was living in it the rest of the family didn’t get to just come and go as they pleased. Today wasn’t that day, though. And Miriam had relented to yet another demand. This time, from her son who insisted that their very indoor dog needed a dog house in the back yard. And of course, it had been her mother’s encouragement of the whims of a five year old that had her strolling into the hardware store right after it opened the next morning.

She leans her him against the front counter, list in hand. “Hi,” she said to the man behind it. “Any chance you can help me find this stuff?” Miriam handed over the list. She’d watched a youtube video with David last night on how to build a dog house. It seemed simple enough, as long as she didn’t actually have to saw the wood herself. 

“Hey hey, welcome to the store. First time customer, I presume?” In the years he had spent in this business, Chris has learned to spot the new DIYers from the people who’re used to holding a hammer in their hands. Not like it mattered in this particular instance, not really no. Taking the list from her hands, he nodded. “Hmm, dog house I presume? Come on, I’ll show you the paint and wood samples.” It was a simple enough list; nails, wood, paint and a hammer, nothing Chris didn’t have on sight, or couldn’t get by the next day. 

He takes to the section sporting sample blocks of wood, gesturing to it as he talks. “So here we’ve got some excellent samples of plywood, but that’s no good for a dog. So, let me take you over to the natural woods we have. Now, as someone who’s got pets of his own, I know you’d want the best for your furry companion, so I’m going to say cedar. It keeps them damn mosquitoes away, and have you smelled cedar? Beautiful!” He’s pointing to the slabs of aforementioned wood. “For an extra charge, I can have it sawed and delivered. Now that that’s taken care of, paint samples.”

[christopheriisms]

WESLEY EVANS​:

“That’s good, that’s good. I’m glad I was able to help her learn ‘bout stranger danger,” He didn’t want to stay too much on the subject, noting his tone as they spoke about his kid. “Yeah, I need to get some shit. “I’m gonna need some paint, gotta fix the shop up from the storm,” He noted, “You got a selection?

“Oh ya, that you uhh...definitely did. Girl’s always been too brave for her own good, I can tell you that much. But I’ll let her you know you said hi..” Chris smiled, already making his way from behind the counter. “Yeah, I do. Let me show you to the paint wall. Do you have any exact shades in mind? Or color family? Like white, red, purple...I have sample books for that too.” He takes Wes to the last aisle, showing him the displayed swatches on the walls. 

[christopheriisms]

OLIVER STONE​:

The mention of the goat pen makes Oliver chuckle, a small groan following the sound of his laughter. “Oh God, now you’re gonna have my daughter begging me for a goat. She’s already pestering me and Eli about having chickens because Maddie has chickens. It’s a whole thing.” Laughter laces through his words, watching as Riley heads out with Lala. It earns an instant satisfaction to wash over Oliver. Knowing his child was loved and treasured was something he’ll never quite get over. Oliver and Chris might have had that in common, really. Both good fathers with good hearts, wanting nothing but the best for their children. 

With that, Oliver steps into Chris’ kitchen, sitting down at the island in the middle. His arms rest carefully onto the countertop, the smile on his face never subsiding. He soon hums in thought, “Hm, gimme a root beer, please. I can’t handle alcohol right now. Or Minute Maid.” The social worker jokes, nodding in Chris’ direction. “The house looks good. No leaks or anything?” He asks, reminding himself to head over to Chambers Contracting later today to access the leak in his own kitchen. “I feel fuckin’ terrible for the business’ in town. Apparently, some got hit pretty bad. I was thinking about putting something together at the Community Center to help ‘em out but I don’t know what.”

“I dunno what to tell ya, goats are pretty great roommates, but pretty high maintenance. Oh, and they’re pretty fuckin’ noisy too.” Chris chuckles, leading Oli inside. “Don’t worry about the kids. Lala knows her way around the farm...” He had raised her to be open minded, to be kind and of good heart. After all, Lala was pretty much the best thing that’s happened to him in a long while, and he’s determined to keep it that way. 

“I gotcha...” Chris peers into the refrigerator, pulling out the cold glass bottles and placing them on the table, closing the door with his foot as he did so. He takes hold of the bottle opener, deftly popping both caps off, before passing one to the man. “Ahh, yeah we got lucky, I guess. I mean, the wind did take off a bit of the barn roof, but that’s nothing we can’t fix.” He nodded along with Oli’s assessment, “yeah, I know Calliope’s windows got shattered bad. And Teagan’s store too. I mean, that thing’s seen better days, you know?” He sighed, taking a swig of his own drink. “Ahh, I guess you could just, oh I dunno...hmm, maybe just let people find places to stay, if their houses have been wrecked? I mean, it could be a start, ya know?” 

[christopheriisms]

NICOLAS CORTEZ​:

Standing on the edge of the sidewalk, Nic was getting ready to hop onto his bike. All he needed to do was put his helmet on that was dangling from the handlebars. But something stopped him from putting that helmet on. His handles were sticky. “Shit,” He said aloud, “Motherfuckin’ shit.” Yeah, that’d really tell the bike how angry he was. 

“You got some water or somethin’?” Nic asked the nearest person. He wasn’t sure what’d make his handlebars less sticky but he wasn’t about to put something that was unnatural on his bike either.  “I can’t ride all sticky.” 

“I hope ya know how wrong that sounds. Sticky.” Chris didn’t mean to chuckle; after all, he wasn’t twelve and discovering innuendos for the first time, but that guffaw managed to escape sounded very adolescent of him. “Uhh...water, I might have some back at the store. Think you could wait a moment while I grabbed it?” 

[christopheriisms]

tagging | @silasxavery​

“Hey buddy, sorry for droppin’ by unannounced. How’ve you been?” Entering the Rec Room was a little bit like a throwback to the old arcade Chris and his friends drove two towns over too, just to play some Defender. These days, it was filled with sequels he didn’t recognize, and frankly, he isn’t sure how he was able to stand the bright screens and noises. He walks over to Silas, patting the other man’s arm. “I’m actually here to ask if you guys have a Lost and Found box? Uhh...my little girl left a textbook here, I think. Or a binder.” 

[christopheriisms]

DAMIAN CARTER​:

“Cee Lo Green,” Damian snorts. Taking the player from his friend. “That’s the reference that pops in your head?”

He pops one ear bud into his ear, hitting play on the track. “I don’t know this one,” he says. The younger nurses have introduced him to TikTok. He’s held their phones and filmed while they danced in the on-call rooms, or played out goofy conversations at the intake station on a slow ER day. He doesn’t mention this though, because somehow admitting that the twenty year old nursing students have had to show him an iPhone app makes him feel even more old. 

There’s a shift in the beat of the music, and suddenly Damian recognizes it as a song one of his favorite nurses attempted to teach him dance moves to. “Okay, I know what this is. There’s a dance.”

“Look, if Lala comes in singin’ Forget You, I would get it. Heck, at this point, if she wrapped some old school 2010 Nicki Minaj, I would get it. I feel like I need to refresh my memory on music, ‘cause...keeping up is hard.” Chris’s feet are already tapping to the chorus of a CeeLo Green song, because he really can’t help himself. 

As much as Chris tries to participate in his daughter’s life, unwilling to be like his own father, who kept a good distance from all of his kids, till the day Chris inherited the farm. He wanted to be a better parent, the kind that knew all of her interests and her habits, her likes and her dislikes, even if it meant listening to music he didn’t get, or listening about Instagram and Tiktok, in the same breath as normal things like....taking a picture or hanging out with Manson the goat, not the singer. 

“Yeah, is it the....you know?” A weak imitation of The Floss occurs, with Chris trying to convey what he’s talking about, while not getting up from his place. “I know that one. And then there was the Okay, Boomer song. Damnit, it was a catchy one.” 

[christopheriisms]

JEREMIAH THANE:

@christopheriisms​

At some point Jeremiah had traded a toddler for a grill. Andy had walked away with his son about a half hour ago, and Jeremiah took over his station, flipping burgers and assuring kids that he did put a ketchup smiley face on theirs too you just can’t see it when the bun is on it. Being at the grille meant a lot of the adults meander their way over, striking up conversations. The man was having a great time, chatting up family members, friends from the club and whoever walked by. 

He had just sent Ryder into the house to get more hot dogs from wherever Andy was hiding them, when Jer spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. Or one familiar face and blur of that familiar faces daughter as Lala went chasing after one of his nephews. “Hey man,” Jer called, waving Chris over. “You eat yet? I can throw somethin on for you if you haven’t.”

You could say Chris’s enthusiasm for a child’s birthday party was juxtaposed by the news he was dealing with on the inside, but he wanted to dispel that thought. That would be tomorrow’s problem, and right now, Lala seems content running around with the kids, and most importantly, she seems happy. So Chris decides to take a moment away from her and the crowd, towards the grill.

“Yeah, I had a hot dog. Really good work on that meat, yeah?” He said, raising his bottle of soda to punctuate that fact. “If you need a break, I can take over, and you can go eat, man. It’s no big. You want a soda? I’m tryna keep it alcohol free, for Ro’s sake mostly. But I gotta admit, it’s cute. And damn, they grow up so quick...” 

[christopheriisms]

SETH CARTER​:

@christopheriisms

As a native to Olympus, Seth knew just about everyone. Chris was certainly one of them that he knew, although he was a few years older than him. However, being that neither of them really ever left town, he knew enough. Now, he comes walking into the man’s hardware store, looking for some new shutters to install for the next storm, knowing that there will inevitably be another one. It’s just a matter of when and the Clubhouse and his own home needed some additional protections. Looking through the aisles for a moment before just approaching the counter, he crosses his arms over his chest to speak to the man. “You run outta new storm shutters already this week or you still got ‘em?” he asks, knowing that there’s bound to be people like him looking to replace old and broken shutters following the big storm.

“Hey man, uhh...lemme go check, because I’m pretty sure we got new stock, but...” Chris is quick to drop the phone call he was on, with a hushed talk to you later, to slide over to the computer to check. The keys clacking and fans turning were the only noise for a few moments that it takes, and the older man is quick to shake his head. “’M afraid we’re all out. But, I can give you my buddy Trent’s number. He’s up in New Orleans, and he’s got some people who can fix that stuff up right for ya. All in the charge.” He’s raking his hair back, his own lips pursed in disappointment. “Yeah, I know how you’re feelin’ buddy, it sucks. It was like that time I was searching for some size 8 screws and all I kept getting were number twelves. Word of the wise, the shorter the better when it comes to your locks and keys.” 

[christopheriisms]

TEAGAN MARON:

Teagan hates this. Since the beginning of the time in medical school, telling her patients about their misfortunes is something that is unsettling to her and does not get easier over time. Whoever told such a statement doesn’t quite understand the connections she forms with her patients throughout their recovery. And it doesn’t make help since it’s a child ─ young, a life of dreams and opportunities ahead of her, that could potentially be taken away if Teagan messes up. It would be something she couldn’t face. So, she sits there and chants in her mind on her morality rate is slim, surprisingly well compared to many doctors in her field and scattered across the states. It’s probably why Chris came to see her because it means he trusts her. This is the mentality she needs to have as the upcoming moments will be gut-wenching and life-shattering. The neurosurgeon is going to be there for this father and daughter duo. They won’t feel alone in this process. Not on her watch.

As she swallows a wave of worries and a lump forming in her throat, a forceful crinkle lifts her mouth corners as Lala goes on with her story. The fact the twelve-year felt comfortable in her presence and was willing to share such details. If her childhood was different, then she would’ve been able to readily share with others just like Lala. But, this wasn’t the case here. As well, she wasn’t going to be jealous of a twelve-year-old with a loving parent at this moment. either. All she can do is hope and pray one day she has a child of her own to love and protect ─ go to the ends of the world for like Christopher. “It’s sad what happened to it but all is going to be okay. I just believe in it,” she comments in a gentle tone, now her optics were bouncing between Lala and Chris, hoping they believe her words. Maybe even if they believed in her words about the shop, then she could follow suit. It was a never-ending cycle of emotions last few weeks but she shook them off. The two patrons occupying her seats matter far more to her now.

Hearing his attempt to speak after learning about his daughter’s diagnosis causes Teagan to feel horrible, the sensation of her skin crawling away from her, even though the neurosurgeon knows it isn’t her fault. It sadly happened to be his daughter’s body working against her. She was the person brave enough to take a risk and inform his worries. “Chris ─” Her throat tightens right after saying his name, knowing it was unprofessional so she has to rapidly backtrack. “Mr. O’Connell, sadly, all of the research I’ve done on this diagnosis makes it difficult to properly narrow down on how and what could’ve caused it to form in the first place,” she begins to reassure, only stopping to catch a breathe, “But the fact I caught it this early on is a good thing. Typically patients go twenty years, even more, without even knowing multiple sclerosis can cause a tumor. So, this is good news.” But was it really? Just as soon as she was about to open her mouth with more information, she became speechless ─

Auntie Teag, what does this mean? Am I okay? Within an instant, her heart shattered in a million pieces and she was on the verge of a physical breakdown. Now isn’t the time for her to grow teary-eyed and pull the twelve-year-old into an embrace ─ which knowing with Teagan she’d never let go. Instead, her mind was already on the move as she removed herself from behind the desk to crouch down to Lala. A gentle hand rests upon the girl’s slender forearm, hazel optics latching onto her own. “Sweetie, there’s something in your brain that is causing you pain. Horrible pain like those sharp migraines. Remember when you told me that pain?” The neurosurgeon didn’t forget. The way Lala would describe the sharp, shooting pain and how it made enjoying her daily activity unbearable. All of it is playing on repeat now. Did these words reassure? How could they? She was ultimately ruining their day by trying to save the young girl. If she lived on with this tumor, who truly could know what would happen to her in a couple of weeks, even months from now. She never trusted tumors. Luckily, after she fell into her own silence with affirming Lala, putting it into simple words for a twelve-year-old, Chris spoke again. “I’d like to go in and operate,” she said in a direct tone. 

The tiny hand in Chris’s grip goes limp, as Lala absorbs what she’s being told. She seems to understand this better than her father, who’s still reeling, who’s still blaming himself for the things that aren’t in his realm of control. Maybe he should have been more thorough about asking her about those headaches, which he had always thought were because of her goddamn phone. He’s staring blankly ahead, not letting go of his little girl’s hand. 

Lala is shaking, but she wants to be strong. Tumor. Yeah, that was a seven point word. She shouldn’t joke, she knows, but she can’t wrap her mind around that. The headaches finally had a reason, and somehow it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t wait to rub that in Rhett’s face. She’s looking at her auntie Teag, her own brown eyes big but with curiosity, not fear. To be completely honest, she’s not sure if she’s supposed to feel something. The migraines had mostly subsided because of the bitter pills Dad made sure she was taking. The tremors though....she realises that her shaking hand isn’t anxiety, but something beyond her control. “Is this also because of the...tumor, Auntie Teag?” The word felt weird in her mouth. Funny, because it was inside her already, and somehow saying the words felt funny. 

Chris sits there, like an audience, waiting for Teagan’s response; she seems to have tapped into something that he doesn’t know, because Lala isn’t whimpering, or scared. Either she’s in shock, or having a better time processing this than he is. He sighs, nodding along with whatever else Teagan has to say. “Alright.” After a pause, “well, guess now we know where you’re gonna be spending the summer, kiddo.” Lala just rolled her eyes, “dad didn’t want to let me go to camp with my friends. Ugh, you’re a mean one, daddy!” And there was a smile on her face, and there was a smile on Chris’s face in response, and he turns to Teagan. 

“Name the date, Doctor Maron.” 

[christopheriisms]

REINA THANE​:

Part of Reina wants to just get up and go. If she doesn’t get out of here now, she knows she’s never going to, and not only would that choice be stupid, it’d be reckless and there’s no telling the outcome of it. Will she go home tomorrow just to get her face slammed into a wall? Maybe, but at this point as far as Reina’s concerned, it’s worth it. Chris is worth it. She’s spent the majority of her life wondering what it’d be like if she still had him, and now she does and she’s not about to let it go. There may be consequences, but when has she ever cared about that? Reina is selfish through and through and what she feels for Chris trumps any kind of loyalty she has to her husband — at least right now. She won’t call it love — she likes to think she doesn’t know the definition of the term — but if there was ever a person Reina may have loved in her lifetime, it’s Chris, and she’s not about to pass up this opportunity to be with him again and again and again.

Fuck it.

She lets him kiss her, lets his hand run over the bareness of her hip and she’s pretty sure Chris would actually be perfectly content to just lay with her watching television, but that’s not how Reina operates. She doesn’t really know how to express affection in any way other than sex, it’s all she’s been given in the last twenty years, so it’s all she can give in return to let Chris know she wants to be there with him. “You sure you wanna keep watching Jeopardy?” Reina shifts until she’s straddling him, lets her hand drift lower until she reaches her destination. And just like that, he’s ready for her — easy. “I could take care of this for you, it’s only fair. But if you’re more interested in Alex Trebek…”

In another lifetime, this would have been normal. Reina and Chris and their own brood of kids, a life on the farm and he would have been canoodling with the love of his life. He’s resigned to the notion that he was destined to be in love with her forever, never being able to have her or be with her. He was to pine for her till the end of time, no matter what that cost him. He’s looking at her and dreaming of a life that would never be, so he takes what he can in these little pleasures. 

(Yes, he knows it’s wrong. But dammnit, he’s going to be selfish for once in his life.)

“I mean, who isn’t interested in Alex Trebek really? They’re missin’ out on some old fox goodness...” Those words are lost as Reina decides there are better things they could be doing than watching Jeopardy at the moment. His stomach tightens as her hand finds it’s final destination, and he’s a little embarrassed to say that he’s excited. To be fair, Reina was a goddamn vision, sitting atop Chris like she belonged there. “Jesus Christ, Reina....” His own hands rest on her hips, the heat of her silken skin only further arousing him. “Do what you gotta do, pretty lady...” 

[freedmarkus]

Josh Duhamel + serving looks in This Is Your Death ⁴

[christopheriisms]

tagging | @andythane​

The Watering Hole is a quaint space, much like it’s name. It’s not exactly a dingy hole (Harper says if he wants to see dingy, he should come to Portland instead), but it’s the kind of place where you can grab a drink with your buddy and talk about shit you wouldn’t want other people listening in on. That’s exactly the kind of place Chris needed right now, and as he sat in the leather seat of this booth, picking at the label of the beer bottle in his hand and thinking of how exactly he was going to say what he wanted to say. While meeting with Andrew for a beer wasn’t weird, Chris couldn’t really look his friend in the eye without feeling the guilt rise in him, (strangely, this guilt only arose when Reina would leave his company). 

“So...how’s things at home, buddy?” That was a casual conversation starter right? The older man wasn’t sure if he was just overthinking things right then, but he has shuffled in his seat at least five times for the last hour they’ve been here. He feels like he’s asked Andy that question before, though. “I’ve...uhhh...I’ve been seein’ someone. Kinda serious, actually...” 

[christopheriisms]

TEAGAN MARON​:

All of the weeks Teagan has been preparing for her meeting with Chris about Lala was finally here. It’s never been easy to sit down a patient to break the bad news, even after all of these years in her field, she always deals with a gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach. This is one of the reasons why she always comes prepared. An extensive amount of research underneath her belt, having evidence for any visualizes needed to be shown, she would not let out a single detail. She knew all too well patients always had questions and she’s ready to answer them all ─ especially to reassure both the father and daughter they are in good hands. With a low mortality rate, and an incredible recovery turnover rate, statistics are there but for this dynamic, she needs to provide more. Teagan likes them both from the encounters they’ve endured outside of the hospital. The last thing she ever wants to do is potentially ruin either one of their lives. So, she’s walking into this meeting with her held up high ─ or as high one could have before the news will shatter their world.

She’s prompt to their scheduled appointment, greeting them both with a delicate smile. “Hi, Mr. O’Connell. Not too bad if I say so myself,” she kindly greets, leading them both to her office. A hand rests in the pocket of her lab coat, feeling as the nerves were not settling down but perhaps they wouldn’t until after their conversation. Her hazel optics take a moment to fix upon Lala, who’s proud to have her own seat, and her heartstrings tug. Now seated across from them, she can understand where the small talk is coming from ─ it’s to ease both of their worries. So, she encourages it. “I did. My house was okay but I can’t say so to my grandmother’s shop but that’s a topic for another time. I do hope you were both okay,” she gently swayed the topic, only to fall into a laugh at Lala’s storytelling. It’s one of her favorite things and she bond to hear more over the months. Yet his words bring her back to reality, feeling her posture grow stiff, straight as a pole, just as Teagan’s hands crossed over Lala’s folder. A heaved sigh falls moments after. “No, as a matter of fact, I have some unfortunate news for you.” There she goes right for the blow, still uneasy but she falsed through it. “Are you aware that Lala has multiple sclerosis which eventually created a benign tumor? It’s typically rare for a diagnosis to be found this earlier but I was determined to find out one way or another.” 

Chris isn’t an idiot. He knows there’s nothing good waiting in those files, and he’s prepared himself for the worst case. Maybe it was just migraines and Lala would need glasses. Or it was something wrong with her head that wouldn’t be too bad, that some medication couldn’t help. But he still reaches for his daughter’s hand, pretending to hold onto it for her sake, and not his. “I’m sorry to hear about the shop. We’re gonna miss that one, Mrs. Maron’s store was pretty fascinating, wasn’t it kiddo?” There were many things to be said, and Lala was already so comfortable in Teagan’s presence, she launched into another story about the most epic game of hide and go seek she and her friends had played last year. 

Unfortunate news. It was like the time he had to sit and explain to Lala why her mother was leaving for New Orleans so soon, with all her things packed in a van. It sucked because she was such a smart kid, and she was never happy with the simple explanations. But Chris had to be strong for her now, because he was her dad and he would never want his little girl to worry about anything. Multiple sclerosis. Tumor. Chris’s grip on his daughter’s hand tightened, and he could feel Lala already shifting in her seat. Her voice was down an octave, and she simply asked her auntie what any of those words meant. “How...when...” He didn’t have the words, just sitting there in stunned silence, and then turning to look at his daughter. It was hard to look at her, imagining a ticking time bomb inside her tiny, tiny head. And it hurt. 

It felt like forever, when Chris spoke again. Waiting, till Lala paused. “What happens next, Doc?”