#hausofgreene

[buttchuckles]

The Streetlight Down the Road Flickers

Or at least it does at 4am when I can’t sleep.

SBGC au by @hausofgreene

The light is out

James hasn’t eaten in three days, Matt hasn’t talked in four. Sean is trapped at home with his step-dad, not that he would come back to basecamp so soon anyway after what happened with Bruce. (who’s been working too late and coming home even later if at all) Joel is out of town and his head is even further away, Lawrence left through the front door last week with his goodbye replaced with a broken “I’m sorry”

Basecamp feels like a void, feels like something isn’t right. It feels empty and far too familiar.

The light is on

They all need space, space is important for growth and development. Space is important for recovery.

If there could, by some miraculous chance, be a place where wishes and shooting stars existed simultaneously, and if by some grace of the universe one appeared above that street light and shone through the clouds, there wouldn’t be hesitation in wishing them aid in their recovery.

The light is out

But in this world, wishes don’t help. Wishes are rarely more than a passing thought, a quick glint in the sky, or a candle only lit to be blown out.

A thousand wishes won’t help, neither will the same wish wished a thousand times.

If there had been a shooting star above a street light years ago, it wouldn’t do anything but hurt. A wish wouldn’t bring them back. A thousand wishes wouldn’t either.

The light is on

But if that one wish were granted, maybe this wouldn’t be basecamp. Maybe the memories made here wouldn’t be more than another wish.

The light is out

It isn’t practical to hope for a star to pass by and fix what’s broken. They’re suffering and no amount of cigarettes or forced starvings or razor blades or pills or coke or wishes will fix what’s wrong.

The light is on

If they need help they’ll reach out.

The light is out

But maybe this isn’t where they want to reach.

The light is on

They have found happiness here before.

The light is out

But maybe they don’t find it anymore.

The light is on

They should find their happiness again even if it isn’t here.

The light is out

Wanting them to sacrifice their happiness to have them back would be selfish.

The light is on

They could still be happy here

The light is out

But what if they aren’t?

The light is on

It’s always a possibility…

The light is out

[crybabykovic]

Matt wakes up, He wakes up and he knows what kind of day it's going to be. It's going to be one of those days where everything gets stuck in his throat, and tears prick like pins in the corner of his eyes but never spill over. It's going to be one of those days where his father looks at him over their morning coffee with sad eyes but a small smile. A small smile of knowing what it means when his son wakes him up and taps out the signal on the kitchen table while they move in perfect harmony around the room to make breakfast for each other. (The two of them drink there coffee black, and smile small smiles to each other. Matt's father's one of understanding, Matt's one of thankfulness that his father understands. ) They do what they would do any other day. They watch TV on the tiny little screen resting on the kitchen counter, switching between the news and the weather. Matt prefers to watch the weather chanel, his dad prefers to watch the news. His father makes comments like he would any other day to Matt, not expecting a reply but trying to let his son know that nothing has changed between them. Breakfast over, the two of them grab there stuff and get into Matt's dad's car. Matt has a truck, but they both know on these days, these days where matt goes quiet, Matt prefers to not drive, and his father feels the same. When they pull into the high schools parking lot, Matt gets out, his father wishing him to have a good day, Matt nodding back, his way of telling his father to have a better day, a signal they both understand. (The tears prick back at both matt and his father's eyes. Both of them just hope that they both get home safe tonight.) Matt makes his way through the crowd of students as his father pulls out of the lot and starts his drive towards the police station. Matt finds his boys, and goes quickly to Kovic, not bothering to make eye contact before tapping his index and middle fingers on his right hand twice on Kovics bicep. Kovic drops his conversation, looks directly at Matt in front of him, and puts his arm around him. He understood the signal. He always does. Matt knows today's going to be rough. But at least his boys are there for him. At least his father is there for him.

[coolstepdadkovic]

dont worry, we're young an SBGC Grovic playlist

[peakesqueak]

happy birthday, sweetie!

thank u aimee!!! <333

[coolstepdadkovic]

youre never gonna get it right an SBGC Peake playlist

[bdoesshiphaus]

Nothing but tears in my body;; Peakems, SBGC AU

TW: Eating disorders, blood For @hausofgreene James was throwing up again. His fingers were in his throat, and the tears were burning his eyes. The tears were his least favorite part. They made his eyes red. It was hard to hide. He struck out. Lost them the game. He needed to be faster. He retched up bile, nothing in his stomach to get out. His boys were at Joel's recital. He would have gone if he didn't have a game at the same time. Lawrence was out, drinking. Drowning. James leaned back from the toilet and the tears became real, his chest heaving as he started to sob, loud and agonizing. Better, you need to be better, faster, stronger, gotta throw it up, it's poison, all of it's poison. Nothing to get out. Nothing to throw up. Nothing he could do. He was useless, a flash that burned out as soon as he tripped up. Gone. The door opened, and the sound James made was fear, shame, and surprise, all in one, until Matt stepped in, his eyes red with smoke and a small sad frown as he sat without a word in front of James, crossing his legs. James broke again, sobbing and pounding his fist into the floor, hearing his knuckles crack, not that he cared. Blood seeped to the surface. The floor was smeared with it as Matt watched, his world buzzing with drugs. James was the only thing he saw that wasn't affected by the blur. James started to scream, his escape, there was nothing in his body, his failure was his own, not the food, not the weight, him. He tried to scream the weight away, and Matt heard his anguish, heard the raw sounds that started to surface. James’ voice was a din, rough and bloody. Matt reached forward and took his wrist in one motion, and James grabbed onto him, so tight, his entire body shaking as he cried, cried out, cried to be better. Matt stayed, letting James use him how he wanted, a pillow, a stress ball, a drug. Matt spoke when he heard James quiet down. “It's gonna be okay.” He whispered, his breath warm on James’ ear. James shook at once, earth shattering in its violence. Matt held him tight. James closed his eyes. “No. No, nothing to get rid of.” He croaked, and his voice would be a husk for days. Matt put a hand in his hair. “You're already perfection.” He knew that's what James wanted. What he searched for. Why he denied himself. They all knew why James did this to himself. Matt listened. As James cursed his parents, cursed God, cursed himself, cursed anything but his boys, Matt stayed still, knew James needed to be firmly grounded. James sobbed himself to silence, his throat burning too much to make any noise as Matt helped him to his feet. “Come on, baby.” He said, quickly and quietly, before helping James to the room one of them went to when it was all too much. The quietest room in the house, and the one where the air conditioner worked best. Matt got James out of his sweat drenched closes and into a soft blanket, and they laid down. James faced the wall, but eventually he turned over, curling up and scooting into Matt’s open arms. “I’m disgusting.” “You're not.” He was quiet, but sincere, when he told people what he thought of them. It had gotten him more than a couple black-eyes. Didn't stop him. James knew that. James fell asleep like that, in Matt’s arms, nothing more than a blanket on him.

[coolstepdadkovic]

i started using again an SBGC Joel playlist

[coolstepdadkovic]

getting older scares the shit out of me an SBGC Spoole playlist