#& like. it was seven years ago it’s possible the handling wasn’t 100% BUT

[calderkildae]

finding out lup was trans was the second brick thrown at stonewall. actually

[itsyou-itsme-itsus]

Gambled away: Chapter 4

Dark!Steve x fem!reader

Warnings: 18 + ONLY MINORS DNI!!! Noncon, themes of Stockholm/kidnapping and CNC. Oral sex male and female receiving. P in V intercourse. gagging, spit. Unprotected sex (stay safe wrap it up) use of Daddy. rough sex. (If this bothers you please scroll on by. Its 100 percent fantasy.) 

Notes: This one might be long. 

Steve hung up the phone, he couldn’t see what you and Nat had put together for him. It would be about 12:30 am when he finally made it home. He stepped out into the brisk chilly night air, just outside Stark industries.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how he wanted to feel you tightly wrapped around him as he sunk his full length inside of you. He took a moment listening to the sounds of the city, cars honk and the clatter of trash cans.

Fury had called about Scott trying to make a police report on Steve. Nat had left the safe house where you were being kept to go straight to the police station to handle the situation. Maybe a little jail time would help Scott to get over you.

Steve climbed into the drivers seat shutting the door, when the passengers side door swung open and Sharon jumped in.

“Hey.” She smiled, she had a black hoodie pulled over her uniform.

“What do you want Sharon?” Steve grumbled, annoyed with yet another obstacle stopping him from wetting his dick with your pussy.

“I just thought we’d go have a couple drinks tonight, its been awhile.” She grinned her hand reached out and caressing Steve’s knee with her finger tips.

Steve sighed and peeled her hand away and setting it back in her lap. They had dated a couple years ago and it was fun having someone like her, who would jump in on being a dirty cop for him, Bucky and Nat. After awhile he had gotten bored with her clinginess and jealousy.

“I’m busy Sharon, go home.” Steve started up the car and Sharon ignored him, she stayed in the car.

“That’s ok, I can go home with you and we can hang out after you’re done.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and scratched at the back of Steve’s neck.

It was Sharon’s way of letting Steve know she wanted to be the one for him to take out all his sexual aggression on.

Steve didn’t say anything he pulled out of the parking spot and began driving. He headed towards Sharon place to avoid the possible conflict if she found out Steve was keeping you.

Sharon had never been the type he could imagine having kids with, she was too selfish and conniving to be a stay at home mom. Maybe she’d be perfect for someone else but she admitted she didn’t even want kids. Although that didn’t mean she wasn’t the type to get pregnant just to keep someone around.

You on the other hand, Steve knew you’d make a great wife and a stay at home mom. He was never the type to get married and live a white picket fence life. If he liked you after tonight and you were a real peach in bed, He won’t pass up on that opportunity.

The streets were wet from a rain fall earlier that evening. The traffic lights reflected off the shiny asphalt. Sharon’s apartment was seven blocks away which would put Steve back about 20 minutes.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Sharon had been talking about something she did with Carol and Sam. He couldn’t be bothered to give her any of his mind’s attention as you had reserved all the space for the night.

The picture Nat had sent him with you laying on the bed, sitting up with your back against the head board. The same one he’d be gripping for leverage later on. Your cleavage looked stunning as the red dress clung tightly to each curve. Your makeup was perfect just enough to ruin it.

Thought of kissing those ruby red plump lips. His favorite part was how Nat positioned you, your legs slightly spread so he could see the outline of your puffy sex through the red panties. How the thigh highs hugged just right to the thickest part of your legs. The way she almost got you to smile just for him.

Steve almost missed the turn, the tires screeched loudly as they skidded across the wet ground.

“Whoa, someone’s eager.” Sharon laughed as they turned the corner. He was eager, just not for Sharon.

Steve parked his car just on the curb in front of the door that lead to the staircase of Sharon’s apartment complex.

“Go change into something sexier. I don’t want to fuck a cop.” Sharon rolled her eyes a chuckled but she listened and practically bounced out of the car.

Steve waited watching her disappear up the stairs, he could only see to the second floor. Sharon lived on the third floor, 4th apartment back. He waited a few minutes to be sure that she was on her floor before he curved the tires and peeled out.

Steve sped the entire way home, the clock in the car read 12:15am. It didn’t matter if you were sleeping or not when Steve got home, you’d wake up with his cock buried deep inside of you.

Sharon put on the small light blue dress, not only did it look great in contrast to her blonde hair and blue eyes, Steve had loved her ass in it. She fixed her hair and pulled on the blue strappy heels to match.

Sharon knew in her gut Steve had ditched her, the space where he had been was empty except for some trash.

“Steve?” She yelled out and walked a few feet, her hips swaying and heels clacking on the wet side walk.

She peered around the corner and then looked down both sides of the street, Steve’s car was gone.

“Fuck!” She spat, marching angrily into her apartment building. The sound of her heel magnified in the empty hallway. She pulled her phone out and began to call Carol.

“I think he likes that cunt!” Sharon growled into the phone slamming the door behind her with one foot.

“What do you want to do?” Carol asked she sat at the station with her feet propped up on the desk.

“Find out what you can about her from Scott. Pretend like you’re going to help him if you want.” Sharon snapped before hanging up. She kicked her heels off one flying across the room and the other one just a few feet away.

****************

Your stomach gurgled and you weren’t sure if it was from hunger or nerves. You had tried to sleep hoping that would save you from Steve’s advances if he got back too late. You knew it was late but didn’t know exactly what time it was.

It didn’t feel safe to leave the room so you paced around like a caged tiger at the zoo. The slam of the front door had your heart racing. You stood back from the door staring at it as if it were going to jump at you.

It seemed like time stopped and all you could hear was the blood rushing to your ears. Slowly the knob started to turn. It swung open to reveal Steve, he wore a blue button up dress shirt with the sleeves revealing his forearms and perfectly fitted slacks.

He was breathing heavily, He looked feral as he glanced over your appearance. He advanced towards you, making you back up until you bumped into the bed.

Steve towered over you, your body flush against his. His hands took a moment to follow the curves of your body that the dress accentuated beautifully. You remembered once your mother had told you not to let boys get too close to you, because once their hands started roaming it would feel like their hands were everywhere. This was the first time you truly understood what she meant. Steve pressed his forehead against yours, His hands sliding over your shoulders beneath the thin straps. He pushed them down running his hands over your arms. When the dress came dangerously close to sliding the material down exposing your breasts you jerked your arms up to block him. He squeezed your arms painfully as a warning. 

“I’m tired of waiting.” He growled, the material brushing your nipples causing them to pebble. He leaned forward and kiss you, his lips parting yours so he could slip his tongue in your mouth. You didn’t kiss him back, but you allowed him to do what he wanted. 

The dress was below your rib cage. One hand cupped your chin roughly tilting your head up. His tongue pushed against yours, finally you gave in and moved your tongue and lips with his. His other hand calloused and strong groped your breasts. He squeezed them and ran his thumbs over the tips of your nipples. It coaxed out a soft moan that was swallowed by Steve’s hungry lips. Scott never touched you or kissed you like this. It was always gentle, and he’d always check in with you, asking for your consent. Steve was going to take what he wanted for from you, man handling your body. Your mind and body struggled with conflict. Tears streamed down your cheeks out of fear, yet you pressed your thighs together feeling an ache within, wetness pooling inside your panties. 

Steve’s hands followed your curves pushing the soft red material down to your hips. It snagged snuggly over your butt. He yanked downward the fabric ripping a little the material sat over your thighs pinning your legs together. He gripped your ass cheeks kneading and spreading them. Another moan slithered out from your throat. He couldn’t help himself he landed a sharp slap to your ass cheek feeling it jiggle before roughly grabbing it again. You whined and winced still smothered by his heated kiss. 

Steve pulled back looking over your body he shoved you back onto the bed, pulling the dress the rest of the way off. He sneered at the wet spot on your panties. 

“What a slutty pussy. You act like you don’t want me, but I know you do.”  He pushed your legs apart; you covered your face too embarrassed that you were becoming aroused by his touch. 

He drug his index finger from the wet spot up, pressing in to define your slit as he rubbed up until he pressed against your clit. the thin fabric doing very little to shield you from his touches. It only took a soft whimper before he was growing impatient with you. He pulled your panties off and knelt between your thighs. You smelled wonderful, he sniffed your soiled panties rubbing his nose along your slit, before kissing your upper thighs. His bread tickling your sensitive skin. It felt good, in away you hadn’t experienced before. He bit at the ample flesh making you squirm. Kissing his way along your folds tasting the sweet tanginess of your wet skin. He nuzzled closer as his hands pushed your thighs further apart. Your pussy betrayed you and flowered for him. He looked at you glisten and drip with sweet honey. His tongue dipped in gliding up opening your more, savoring the taste before he reached your pearl. He looked up to see you nervously looking down at him. 

He smirked before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you groaned and your head tipped back. His tongue lashed at your clit, it made your legs tremble. Having not been able to touch yourself or to have alone time mixed with all the stress made it so much more sensitive to be touched in this way. 

Steve was careful to watch you, chest heaving as small moans escaped your reluctant lips. He attacked your clit with a feral hunger pushing you towards the edge, his beard adding to the sensation as it collected your nectar in it. That familiar coil heated deep within, tightening as that tingling feeling threatened to explode through your body like a super nova. It prickled its way along your spine, building to something stronger. You were beginning to lose your inhibitions. Steve liked upwards and began to kiss your stomach. 

“Steve! wh-a? please.” You begged feeling confused as to why he stopped. The coils cooled as your body felt feverish and your pussy cramped with an ache to be filled. 

“You’ll have to wait for making me wait for so long.” He kissed his way up your stomach leaving a trail of his saliva and your wetness. He kissed your breasts pushing his palms against the swell of them. He sucked one nipple into his mouth licking at the rubbery nub. His teeth grazing it gently making you arch your back and moan. 

His kisses continued until he was licking along your jawline. Steve made you taste your own arousal on his lips. This time you kissed him back with your own hunger. He got on his knees bringing you up with him. The sound of his buckling clanking open followed by the sound of his zipper he pulled his pants down. 

“Suck it.” He hissed fisting a handful of your hair as he pushed you down. His cock was huge, thick with an angry red bulbous tip, precum pearled at the end. You licked at it like a lollipop tasting the salty liquid. He pushed you down a few inches until your lips stretched around it and the tip poked your throat. You sucked in a deep breath trying not to gag. 

He let you lick at the base and adjust to his length and girth before pulling your head back until the tip was resting on your tongue. He didn’t move his hips he just pulled and pushed your head up and down his cock as if you were just a fleshlight. Your jaw ached trying to accommodate his size as he worked more and more of himself inside your throat. In and out he slid himself deeper, finally you heaved and coughed as he lodged his dick in your warm throat. Your nose touched his pubes, swallowing instinctively as if trying to get rid of the object blocking your air ways. You slapped his thighs and tried to push back in fear he’d suffocate you, he held you tightly against him before pulling back. You gasped for air feeling the burn as your lungs filled back up with air. 

spit and precum bubbled and dripped down your chin, He used your head to bob faster up and down his length not caring when you sputtered and gagged. His balls slapping your chin as he grunted, enjoying the feeling of your throat contract around his dick. He pulled you back with saliva and cum bridging between his angry red tip and your wet swollen lips. 

“Lay down.” He husked lust filling his tone. He kneeled between your legs rubbed his cock up and down your slit. His tip nudged your clit mixing his precum with your slick. 

“Beg me for it.” He demanded watching your face as he pushed his dick through your folds teasingly nudging at your entrance. Tears welled up in your eyes and you shook your head no. 

“So we want to be bratty huh?” Steve pulled back a bit before landing hard slap with his hand on your pussy. You tried to shut your legs but his body blocked you. The sting spread through your folds and into your clit. He pushed you legs open again and then landed another hard slap, this time it stung even more. 

“Aaah, Please Steve!” You cried out struggling to shield yourself but Steve caressed your clit with his thumb lowering your guard before delivering another rough slap to your pussy. You wailed and cried. It was becoming too painful and each time he slapped harder. 

“Please fuck my pussy! I need it! I need you!!” You trembled under him waiting for him to spank your pussy again. Instead he lined himself at your entrance again. He was bigger than Scott for sure. 

“Good girl.”

The tip pressed in already beginning to stretch you open, he went slow watching your tight hole spread wide to fit his length. His thumb rubbing circles over your clit. A gasp left your lips, and he grunted when the tip breached your walls. It would of been painful if you hadn’t been so wet. Still it tightly stretched over his girth like glove. Gripping the bed sheets you feared he would split you in half. 

“Please! it won’t fit!” you cried when he pushed deeper. Steve gently hushed you, like trying to calm a frightened child. He pushed in until his tip pressed hard against your cervix almost painfully, if he pushed anymore he might break through it. He held it there watching you struggle in discomfort trying to allow you to adjust to his size. 

Steve sighed in pleasure this was the moment he had been waiting for. It was so warm and tight hugging his cock perfectly. The pressure making his tip swell and his shaft twitch, He knew you could feel it too. He grabbed your breasts massaging them as he watched himself slide out inch by inch before resting the tip in the opening. Your walls clinging to him, trying to suck him back in. He pushed in feeling the delicious resistance again before bottoming out. He slowly repeated this in and out until you were panting and squirming. 

“Yeah, you like daddy’s cock?” He husked teasing your nipple as he found his rhythm thrusting faster. Your body bounced beneath him with each thrust. He loved how your breasts jiggled with each thrust. Your pussy felt raw and sore, still that familiar tightening of tingling coils began to heat again. His pubes stimulating your clit. 

“I asked you a question.” He hissed gripping your chin as he roughly pinched your nipple causing you to wince and whine.

“I-I love your cock.” Your voice sounded odd, small and submissive as it got lost in a sea of breathy moans. 

Steve’s fingers slide down finding your neck. He gently squeezed feeling your pulse under his thumb. He kept the same pace but was slamming in hard enough to bruise your cervix. You wailed bouncing roughly with each thrust in. He kept pulling your nipple taught, the pain mixed with pleasure only made your body tighten more ready to release an intense feeling you had never felt before. A heady euphoria set in each time Steve squeezed your throat a little more. To his surprise you wrapped your legs around his waist and began bouncing to meet his thrusts. 

“Steve!” You rasped chanting his name as your back arched, Steve realized you were close to cumming again. “Steve it hurts!” You cried.

“I know, it feels so good for daddy.” You began to tremble underneath Steve’s bulking frame. There was something about feeling so small beneath a man who was ruining you that made you feel so right. 

“You gonna cum for me baby? Yeah, come on, cum all over Daddy’s dick.” Steve thrust harder his lips trailing along your collarbone. 

“Yes! gonna cum for you daddy!” The words slipped out of your mouth before you knew what you were saying. Your whole body felt feverish and electrified as you tightened and loosened around him, a throbbing sensation cascaded from your belly and into your entire body. Steve did long strokes drawing out your orgasm as you shuddered and shook against him. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, pulsing and milking him. He grunted at the tighteness and the sounds of your high-pitched whines. Lewd squelching and slapping filled the room as your cream coated his thick cock.

Steve began pistoning in and out of you he pushed you pass your orgasm and overstimulating you. He planned to draw this out, but watching you come undone on his dick sent him over the edge. The whole bed violently slammed against the wall with his thrusts as you screamed for him.

“My dick is bigger than Scott’s isn’t it?” Steve growled in your ear. Steve pinned you down to the mattress by your throat.

“I want to hear you say it.” You could barely think as he pounded you roughly.

“Y-hess.” Incoherent garbles was all that came out as Steve coaxed one last orgasm from your body using it to milk his cock. His hands gripped your hips bruisning them as he pushed and pulled you slamming you up and down on his dick like a toy. 

“Fuck!” He groaned his thrusts growing sloppy as he pushed in deep pressed against your cervix. 

“N-nnnno-uh! Steve d-don cum in me. Please!” Steve ignored your pleas and moaned as the first spurts of hot cum splashed your walls. He huffed as he held you down by your hips tightly keeping you in place as He came filling your sore pussy. 

Sweat dripped off his brow as he stroked himself inside you, squeezing out the last drops of cum inside you. He waited until he began to soften before sliding it out. He did so with a slight pop causing the entrance of your used canal to tingle from sensitivity. Your pussy felt too empty as if it needed his dick to fill it. His cum oozed out of you and made a small puddle on the bed. You wanted to scream and panic about his cum sitting inside you.

What if you got pregnant? You would truly be trapped then. Steve laid down and pulled you close to him, your hot wet and sticky naked bodies pressed in warmth together. Despite Steve roughly taking you, the way he held you tightly to him, made you feel safe in this moment. It became harder and harder to stay awake. Steve peppered gentle kisses along the shell of your ear.

“You never answered me.” Steve husked basking in the glow of your post sex beauty.

“You are bigger.” As if he had won some feat he grinned pressing one last kiss to your temple before settling in. The two of you quickly fell asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and soiled sheets. Tags

Tags: @cjand10 @existentialvacuum

@helenaeisenhower @psychadelichues

[agallimaufryofoddments]

Kinda wild that the announcement teaser for Fate/strange fake's upcoming TV special (airdate Dec 31) already has nearly 1.3 million plays (views?) on Twitter. It's been up for less than a month.

Not wild because it’s a Fate property, obviously. It’s not even really wild that F/sf is getting a TV special; we all knew an adaptation was inevitable, the question was only ‘how long would one be held off?’ Nah, It’s just wild to me that this TV special will be the first major animated adaptation of one of Narita’s works since the Durarara!!x2 ended in 2016. 

<snipping speculation re: the TV special and shoving it below the cut, since this post was just supposed to be a “wow this is wild” post.>

Man, if F/sf Volume 8 does come out in, say, January or February... I’m going to think happy thoughts and not “Baccano! Volume 23 top 10 betrayals” thoughts. I’m just going to hope the F/sf TV special will spotlight Ryohgo Narita’s name for mainstream western audiences and boost LN sales. On the one hand, it’s ‘just’ a TV special’. On the other hand, it’s a special seemingly hyped up by Aniplex and, uh, y’know, part of the Fate franchise.

Wasn’t F/sf the number 1 or top 3 ‘most requested anime adaptation’ in a poll a few years ago? That might account for some of the hype. Whether the special will lead to a 2023 summer TV anime like other Fate Dec 31 TV specials have, or whether it will be its own strange thing, the sheer fact of it finally happening is a Fate/strange feeling indeed..

It’s been pointed out that some other Fate adaptations have started with December 31 TV specials (Episode 0s) and gone on to have summer TV series, e.g. Lord El-Melloi and Grand Carnival. So...should we speculate this pattern repeats with F/sf? I haven’t really consumed anything in the Fate franchise and have little interest in doing so beyond F/sf, which I’ve been slowly and sporadically reading, so I’m not exactly familiar with precedent.

For instance, Fate precedent re: adapting incomplete source material. The LNs are at seven volumes so far and (though I’m not caught up yet) in the thick of the plot, and I’m not sure how a one- or two-cour anime would tackle adapting it. A two-cour anime would make more sense than one. Definitely not sure what a 24-minute TV special could accomplish, considering that F/sf is a bit like Baccano! with tons of stuff happening in one, two, three (etc.) days. 

Maybe the TV special will be an hour long or something; that would make more sense. Aniplex announced it in a livestream, didn’t it? Hyped it up? Is it normal for Fate TV specials to get the amount of hype it feels like this one’s getting? Am I imagining the hype due to my Narita bias? A long TV special would warrant it. A long special is almost necessary if they’re planning to introduce characters with it, because the entirety of Volume 1 is character introductions and couldn’t possibly fit into a half hour.

Oh, hm, the special could feasibly function as some worldbuilding / backstory set up. I’m guessing that most if not all Fate stories review Fate’s conceit for hypothetical newcomers, which is what Narita helpfully semi-does in Volume 1 (thank God, since I’m essentially a newcomer). Narita’s twist on holy grail wars is new—I understand that pretty much every holy grail war in all the Fate derivates has gone awry / atypically since...the first series?—the setting (Snowfield, Nevada) is new... so a TV special ‘orienting’ viewers makes sense. 

Except it makes sense only if the plan is 100% to proceed with a 2023 anime, so, who knows. R.L. (from the PSA teaser) and Ayaka (character’s VA returning) are both Volume 2 material, so... either the TV special is going to blitz through Volume 1 and end with R.L. and Ayaka as a huge cliffhanger / hype teaser, or possibly the special won’t function as a story episode at all and just be a compilation of ‘hype’ moments. That sounds... I mean, wouldn’t that just be spoiler central? I don’t buy that.

Precedent, huh. Also, since A-1 Pictures is handling the F/sf TV special, is it probable that A-1 would then handle a proper TV adaptation? Based on El-Melloi and Grand C., probably. Oh, wait, I forgot A-1 did that 2019 F/sf PV for the light novels—so make that ‘almost definitely’.

One potentially major aspect is that the TV special will have a simuldub, which, from what I’ve read, will be the first 1:1 complete simuldub of a Fate adaptation? Major for us since a simuldub will cast the spotlight on F/sf and concomitantly Narita’s name that much wider, even if the dub is terrible. The sheer novelty alone of a Fate simuldub may be enough to attract viewers. Er, beyond the existing big Fate audience, of course. I’ve also read that a simuldub was greenlit because F/sf is set in America (oh, Narita, you wag), but that’s no guarantee the dub will be any good.

....it’s also wild (well, weird) that I’m thinking this actively about an anime TV special, since I’ve barely watched anime these past few years. Could be that I’m aging out of anime, though, let’s be real, when I was an undergrad I was already more discerning. Could be that I’ve been in mental limbo ever since spring 2020 with the ‘advent’ (you know what I mean) of the pandemic and its affects on my grad school.)

[skellebonez]

I AM SORRY FOR THIS SKELLE BUT I MUST: 5 (kidnapping them was the only way I was going to get them here),6 (let's make a deal, shall we?) and 41 (can you teach me how to do that) with the demon bull fam and mk with a little hint of 64 (I may have eaten seven of them already). NOW GO HAM MY DUDE

Oh I had way too much fun with this one. I took S2E4 (spoilers mentioned for that!) and some tweets made by one of the show producers on the same day as fuel for a very silly idea I had. I don't write what can be considered "Crack treated seriously" (or at least semi-seriously, this is not a 100% serious fic) often but when I do I go hard. This is more focused on MK and others than SpicyNoodles so it's a bit more gen fic than a full on ship fic as well.

Kidnapping them was the only way I was going to get them here/Let's make a deal, shall we?/Can you teach me how to do that?/I may have eaten seven of them already.

"Red..." MK started off slowly, watching as his boyfriend's face flushed and twisted in embarrassment. "Can you tell me why your mother showed up at my apartment and used her wind vortex thing to teleport us here without an explanation? And then left us in your..." He looked around, noting that aside from the excessively large throne and two smaller thrones beside it this room looked like a... "Living room? On a couch?"

"I can-" Red Son started, raising a hand before pausing a frowning deeply. "Actually, no, I can't explain. This is just weird, even by my parent's standards. I have no idea what is going on, but since you're still here..." He shrugged with a hopeful smile, shaky through the uncertainty. "Maybe it's not bad? I mean, if Mother was truly upset or wanted to do something bad surely she would have not left us to our own devices. Maybe she’s... uh... happy I finally have a boyfriend?”

At the pointed raise of an eyebrow from MK that hopeful smile faltered a bit. Happy Red Son had a boyfriend for the first time in a couple centuries? Under different circumstances he wouldn't doubt that! Happy when that boyfriend was MK?

Oh he did doubt that.

He knew that they shouldn't have been sneaking around the way they had been. It had made sense at first, two people on opposite sides of a feud lasting centuries who discovered they actually enjoyed spending time together more than fighting each other. One who decided he very much would rather not follow through with any kind of domination and see his family hurt, who realized "actually my sworn nemesis isn't so bad", and another who decided "my life is already weird enough, why not give this befriending my enemy thing a shot".

And then one thing lead to another and before they knew it their secret friend meet up became a secret boyfriend meet up. They'd managed to keep everything under wraps for a while (except from Mei because, well... she was his best friend! He couldn't not tell someone and she would have found out fast if he wasn't obvious, and she had quickly become a mutual source of support for both of them), though MK knew Pigsy and the others knew something was up. They didn't question him, though, aside from the occasional good natured jab. "Wow MK, you seem happy today. Got any plans?" and that sort of thing. They seemed to trust him to make his own decisions, as long as he was happy and healthy and eventually told them. (Sun Wukong, however, may have caught in a little when he jokingly asked if MK had gotten a boyfriend and MK had choked on his drink. He never brought it up specifically after that but he was smart. Too smart.)

Red Son, on the other hand, was fantastic at keeping secrets when he tried. Or MK thought he was... the last few months gave no indication that either of his parents had discovered their little sneaky rendezvous. Then Princess Iron Fan broke into his apartment and, well, here they are. Clearly something had gone wrong somewhere along the line.

Before MK could follow through with any questions of whether or not there could be a fate worse than instant death that involved lulling him into a false sense of security, the two men froze at the sound of quickly approaching voices.

“Could this not have been done another way, my dear?”

“Kidnapping them was the only way I was going to get them here, you know that. Noodle Boy is not that gullible, contrary to what we first believed.”

Ah... shit... Red Son’s parents.

Mk quickly ran through all the possessions he had in his apartment and wondered if he had time to text Mei or Pigsy the world’s fastest will and testament and if that would be legally binding. He just hoped he had something for Pigsy to handle the Phantom Orderer they'd had for the last year.

They always ordered on the app and prepaid and managed to leave him a sizeable tip in his tuk-tuk after he dropped off the food at whatever random location they indicated.

"Good," PIF's voice rang clear, far faster than he could even attempt to pull out his phone, and MK turned to see that she was casually lounging on the shoulder of the Demon Bull King. She jumped down, her wind lightening her fall so much so that she barely made a sound when her feet touched ground. "You've made yourself comfortable."

MK couldn't bring himself to move, as much as he very dearly wanted to run away as quickly as possible. Yes, he was The Monkie Kid and had progressed far enough that he could probably escape without much problem. Yes, he and DBK had had an understanding after the White Bone Spirit and Lunar New Year Festival (though he still didn't know if PIF ever found out about that one). Yes, Princess Iron Fan had shown little interest in him before and had even worked beside him with no complaints (she didn't even care enough to attack during the Food Wars thing!). But that was all before she apparently found out he was dating her son behind her back while they were technically still enemies.

He was glad at that moment that she had grabbed them before they went to get lunch... his stomach was doing back flips that would make a gymnast jealous.

"Uh, yes Miss-Mrs-Muh-M- Princess Iron... Fan?" MK couldn't help but stutter awkwardly, holding onto the hem of his jacket and worrying it as he tried to keep his composure. He looked beside him, watching as Red sat straighter and kept an even expression on his face that he couldn't quite place. His hair seemed to spark softly.

Though she raised a brow at this, PIF didn't comment on that at all. Instead she made her way to the other couch across from them as opposed to what was clearly supposed to be her throne, leaning forward right her elbows on her knees and her fingers laced together in front of her. DBK stopped behind her, seemingly content to stay standing.

"Noodle Boy... you prefer to go by MK, is that correct?" She started, and he nodded slowly in confused response. "Hmn... so. You've been dating my son for quite some time. Many months... no, a bit over a year if I am not mistaken in how long his behavior has changed." 'Oh shit' went MK's brain. "You must be quite serious, if you're willing to go through so much just to see each other. Late night meetings. Secret hideaways. Sneaking onto Flower Fruit Mountain, even." 'Oh SHIT' it repeated in horror. "That's quite the dedication to show toward anyone... I hate to admit it, but I am quite impressed." 'OH SH-wait what?'

"Bw-huh?" Was what MK managed out, half a sound that was almost a word and half a squeak of confusion.

"The fact I myself remained oblivious until only a few weeks ago is quite something. Let's make a deal, shall we?" She continued, sitting back straight and looking like the proud Princess she was and not like a woman sitting on a couch that looked comically small in front of her enormous husband. "You and Red Son no longer have to hide your relationship from us and in exchange..." she paused, as if relishing the building tension between herself and the couple before her. "You will come over at least once a week so we can get to actually know you properly."

MK froze. Red Son froze even more.

Then his entire head lit ablaze as he jumped up and gestured at his mother with a gaping mouth. "Th-that's it!? I-I was... I was RIGHT!?"

PIF barely reacted to this, merely lounging sideways as she put her elbow on the arm of the couch and rested her cheek on her hand.

"Whatever you were right about, I suppose you were. But yes," she shrugged, honestly looking... kinda happy? "Has this been about a year ago I perhaps would not have understood what you saw in Nood-MK. But I can see how happy you have been lately, and there's something about him that is like... what did you say he was like, darling?" She turned to DBK, who shrugged himself with an unreadable expression.

"A ball of sunshine given human form."

... that was not what MK ever expected to hear from the Demon Bull King's mouth...

"Yes, that's it," she nodded as if this was completely normal and ignored how Red Son flopped back down onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. "I'd hate to admit it, but you've grown on us through out sparse interactions. Somehow. And we have been eagerly waiting for the day we could finally welcome someone into our son's life. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

She seemed... serious. MK may not know her that well, but it was clear to anyone when she wasn't being so.

"Uh... o-ok? Sure?" MK said softly, nodding in amazement as DBK and PIF actually smiled at this.

This was the strangest day of his life, beating our every single demon fight and even the day he got the Monkey King's staff. But he'd take this strangeness over the alternative 500 times over.

"Excellent," DBK nodded himself, there was a lot of that about. "That seems to have worked out n-"

Everyone paused at a loud grumble echoed the room, all turning to Red Son as he flared up in embarrassment this time.

"Don't look at me like that, we were supposed to eat half an hour ago and I am starving," Red Son grumbled as he sat up, not looking anyone in the eye. "I don't suppose we could. Eat now? Please?"

Despite the situation, MK couldn't help but smile at his pouting.

"I could bring us some food from Pigsy's?" MK offered in an attempt to contribute. Something. "I mean, I know Red likes it and you kinda seemed to like it the one time you tried it and... uh... yeah."

"Actually... I may have eaten seven of them already..." PIF admitted, looking away in embarrassment. "l've tried not to give into the temptation, but your father's noodles from the Food Wars were so... I just can't resist ordering some secretly after 5 or so weeks!"

"So you're the phantom orderer!" MK gasped out in shock, but after a moment he frowned and rubbed the back of his head. He had a bit of an idea. "Well... I could... make some for us instead?" He ammended his offered softly. "I may not make it exactly like Pigsy does, but I can get pretty close as long as you have the ingredients! And you wouldn't have to worry about me going there and coming back! We can eat like. Immediately!"

"I think that sounds acceptable," PIF said with a nod as she stood, but MK could see a bit of excitement sparkling in her usually cold eyes. "Come, Red Son. I need to discuss some upgrades the Bull Clones have been asking for with you. Your father can assist him in the kitchen until we are done."

Red looked over at MK and only stood to follow his mother once he nodded, giving his father a pointed look before exited the room. MK, in the meantime, looking up at DBK with a gulp and followed him as he lead the way toward their kitchen.

It was... well, bigger than he was used to. But pretty normal, regal size and decor aside. And it seemed, once he was given the nod of ok from his host (and wasn't that a bizarre thing, DBK and PIF being his hosts on a home visit to his boyfriend's parents... he was going to need to get used to that) he checked the fridge and counters and found he had just about everything he needed to make what he had in mind.

"Can you teach me how to do that?" DBK asked after a moment, startling MK into nearly dropping the sauce he needed for the broth. "Not the recipe itself, just..." He gestured to the counter. "Red Son has a bit of a proclivity toward cooking and he's been trying to get me involved, but we've never cooked anything like. That."

His words were awkward and stilted, but MK could tell he was trying. The same way he could tell PIF wasn't kidding with her offer. They just seemed to... want to get to know him as a potential... son-in-law... huh.

"Sure, but you're gonna want to shrink down a bit for this."

Lunch turned out amazing and, while awkward (much like most of the day)... it was nice not to have to hide their dating for once. And Red actually seemed pretty happy! Though he learned quickly that the Monkey King was still a bit of an (understandably) sore subject that was best avoided. For now.

Maybe not forever though.

(When PIF very not subtly dropped him and Red Son both off inside Pigsy's Noodles after their lunch, the only response he got was a "oh, so they finally found out huh? Looks like things went well" from Pigsy and Tang. Maybe he wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was...)

[hellitwasyoufirstsergeant]

Hi everyone! I’m not really sure why I’m posting this here, I suppose because I’m not ready for people I know ‘irl’ to see this, and this is the only account I have anywhere where none of my irl friends follow it. As to why I’m posting this at all, I’m not so sure either. I suppose largely for myself, in the hope that it will exorcise some demons, and partly for other people, because eating disorders just are not discussed enough and perhaps by posting this I can show someone else that they’re not alone. 

There may be mistakes in this and it may not all be 100% coherent, I found it hard to write and I didn’t wish to read it back over.

WARNING: The following post contains discussions of eating disorders and mental health issues. Please do not read if this is a trigger for you, and please not not read if you’re only here to pass judgement 

Looking back now, it’s so easy to realise why I felt the way I did, and to see my descent into mental illness. At the time, it was confusing as hell. I wasn’t diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and clinical depression until I was 17, although I had been suffering from both for six years already, I just didn’t realise it, because I just didn’t know they existed. I didn’t know there were medical conditions to describe how I felt, perhaps if I did I wouldn’t have felt so alone and so alienated. It wasn’t until last year that I realised I’d suffered from an eating disorder. Before that, I didn’t know that binge eating was an eating disorder. 

The words ‘eating disorder’ to me conjured up images of skeletal bodies, of people making themselves sick. I wish that preteen and teen me knew that I was suffering from an actual condition, that other people suffered from too. 

I don’t recall specifically the first time I binged on food, but over autumn (fall) of 2011 it became a regular occurrence, a habit. It was my way of coping with the changes in my life - starting a new school, my mum being diagnosed with a clinical illness and an increasingly fractured relationship with my dad - and my feelings of loneliness. I was also self conscious about my body, I was in a more advanced stage of puberty than most of my peers and I was aware of the fact that I was a little overweight. Bingeing became an outlet for feelings that I couldn’t understand, and therefore that I couldn’t process. 

It was a process that I repeated regularly for six years. It was like a paradox, the more I looked at myself in the mirror and hated what I saw, the more I binged, the very thing that made me carry on putting on weight. I was overweight, I still am today, but I wish that I could have seen myself the way others saw me - slightly chubby but not the ugly monster I thought myself at the time. I ate my feelings away, it was the only coping mechanism I knew. Even when in some ways my life improved - when I was 14 I finally fell in with a group of friends who were kind and who made me feel accepted - my mental state continued to decline and I continued to eat to cope. I was also feeling confused about my sexuality, something that increased my sense of alienation and otherness. It was often the only thing that got me through the day, the only thing that made life bearable to me. 

I never confided the way I felt or my problem with food to anyone during this period. My mum knew that I had issues with food, twice she found hidden stashes in my bedroom. She has been a good parent to me, but I so wish she’d handled it differently. She made me feel ashamed, something that made me more determined to hide my problem and therefore to not confront it. I think perhaps that she would’ve been a lot more understanding had she known the feelings behind the problem, but I didn’t know how to go about telling her. 

I can’t remember how old I was exactly when I shoplifted food for the first time, I think around 14. The £10 a week pocket money was no longer enough to fund my problem, even though I always chose the cheapest food so that I could buy as much as possible. I shoplifted semi regularly from the local supermarkets for around 18 months, I still don’t know how I was never caught. 

In September 2016, I started sixth form college. It was a fresh start that I so badly needed, my five years at secondary school having been so unhappy. It was hard to begin with, only my oldest friend went to the same college as me and old feelings of loneliness resurfaced. A part of me had hoped that the change of school would allow me to leave my bingeing habit behind, but it wasn’t to be. Even when I settled in and began making friends, I continued bingeing. 

New friends at college told me of their mental health issues, and I finally felt understood - there were other people who felt the way I did, other people who wanted to die. These feelings may not be normal, but I’m not alone anymore. Despite feeling accepted properly for the first time in my life, I continued to eat. Perhaps it was the stress of A levels (my fellow Brits know how fucking hard these are), or my mum’s decline in health, or my increasingly worsening relationship with my dad. 

In May/June time of 2017, my oldest friend, Imogen, who was one of a few friends now aware of my poor mental state, told me that I should go to the doctor. After a little persuading, I agreed. She came with me, but the appointment achieved nothing. I tried a few more GPs at my local surgery and eventually found one who made me feel listened to, and who was kind and sympathetic. I don’t recall the exact time I was diagnosed (to be honest this period in my life is a bit of a blur), but after some months I was finally diagnosed with GAD and clinical depression. I still continued to stay silent about my problem with food. 

Ironically, it was actually the further decline of my mental state that allowed me to break my old habit. My mental health had declined fairly slowly over the past few years, but the decline accelerated over autumn and winter of 2017. I don’t know if there was a trigger behind that, I guess mental health doesn’t need a reason. I didn’t know how to deal with the way I felt, I lashed out and fell out with Imogen, which hit me hard. We didn’t talk at all for three months. Before this period, I had often thought that things would be so much easier if I was dead, but my thoughts had never progressed beyond that. Now, it became more active. I actually wanted to die. I stopped looking when I crossed the road, I stopped looking after my physical health at all. Fears about hurting my mum were the only thing stopping me from taking it further. But, I finally stopped binge eating, so disinterested in life that even the that no longer made me feel better. 

My mental state didn’t take a turn for the better, but I grew used to these new feelings and started to process them properly. I got better at pushing them out, but I did eventually decide to tell my parents about my diagnoses. My mum was very supportive, she still is, my dad not so (although I probably should’ve expected that). I made up with Imogen, my behaviour started to normalise. I felt so free from my old bingeing habit, it had only been a few months but it felt like a lifetime ago. 

In February 2018, my mum told me that she’d be moving to Yorkshire. She’d been forced by her job to take early retirement due to ill health, she was only 50 at the time, and wanted to live somewhere cheaper so she could save on living costs and pay off her mortgage. I was scared, and considered for a time moving in with my grandparents so that I could stay in a place where I knew people, but eventually decided that I’d move with my mum. Still, despite the biggest change ever to happen in my life, I managed to avoid a return to my binge eating habit. I’m still not sure how. Perhaps now that the habit was broken it no longer had the hold over me that it once did. 

And then, around March 2018, my dad gave me £500. To this day I still have no idea why, I guess guilt. But it was so much more money than I’d ever had. The temptation not to spend any of it on food was too great. I decided to treat myself, I’d spend £100 on food and put the rest in my savings. 

By the time I finished college at the beginning of June, the entire £500 was gone, at least £450 of it spent on food. I still remember the binge I had the day after me and mum moved out of our old home and in with my grandparents, who we lived with for seven weeks before going to Yorkshire. My mental state declined still further, and I wasted most of those weeks in bed, not having the energy to do anything. I kicked myself later for not using it to spend time with the friends I was leaving behind. 

After we moved to Yorkshire in August, I spent two of the worst months of my life. My old feelings of loneliness resurfaced, not helped by the fact that one of my closest friends just stopped talking to me. I seemed to alternate between binge eating, my binges even bigger than they ever had been, and hardly eating at all. 

But, eventually, I managed to settle in. I got a job, I made new friends. I didn’t make a conscious decision to stop binge eating again, it just happened. I wasn’t lonely anymore, but my mental state didn’t seem to get any better. But, I had healthier ways of coping and I didn’t need to binge as an outlet for my feelings anymore. In September 2019, I started uni, and I finally felt like my life had a purpose. 

Now, I have more and better friends than I ever had. I’m glad I made the move to Yorkshire, where I live now is much nicer where I grew up and if I hadn’t made the move there are so many amazing people I wouldn’t have met. Most of my friends are aware of my mental health issues, although I rarely discuss them in detail. 

However, only one of my friends is aware of my eating disorder. I didn’t realise until last year that binge eating was classified as an eating disorder. I’m not quite sure why, but this discovery prompted me to finally confide in my oldest friend, Imogen. She was very supportive and understanding, and I know my other friends would be, but it’s still something where I look back and I’m like ‘woah that actually happened’. Putting it out of my mind as much as possible has been my way of coping with the fact that it did happen. I have been slightly more open online that I have irl about the fact that I had an eating disorder, but this is the first time I have discussed it this in depth with anyone. 

I’m going to say now what I wish preteen and teen me had known: you are not alone. Whether you’re suffering from an eating disorder, from mental health issues, or from something else, you are not alone. I can’t say truthfully that I have never regretted confiding in someone, but the majority of the time it has helped me, even in a small way. Please talk to someone if you have an eating disorder, be it a friend, a family member, a GP, a teacher, even me. It is nothing to be ashamed of. 

I stopped binge eating as a regular habit at the start of winter 2018. Although I relapsed a couple times last year, it’s been twelve months and counting since my last binge. 

[tinkerd]

Interview with Anne Both & David Litchfield first published on www.readingzone.com

A SHELTER FOR SADNESS TEMPLAR PUBLISHING JANUARY 2021

A SHELTER FOR SADNESS is a profound and moving picture book about how a young boy manages his feelings of sadness, not by ignoring them but in giving his sadness the space, care and thought that it needs. We asked author ANNE BOOTH to tell us what inspired the picture book, and illustrator DAVID LITCHFIELD about how he approached the illustrations: Q: What for you are the key ingredients for a great picture book? ANNE: For me, the words have to leave room for the pictures, the pictures have to capture the feeling of the words and extend the story, and both the words and the pictures have to be the best they can be for the demands of that book - be it a funny or a sad book or any other type. DAVID: Oof! that is a BIG question. I'm still trying to work that one out if I'm honest. For me what I personally love about picture books is that you can be transported to the furthest part of someone's imagination but still recognise yourself, and the world, in its pages. It's escapism but also empathy. It's crazy looking animals and creatures but they are experiencing some of the most human emotions of all. There are so many different ingredients that go into these books. But for me I think the ultimate goal is to tell a story that connects with children in the most imaginative way possible. Q: Can you tell us what you wanted to achieve in this book, about how we deal with sadness? ANNE: I hoped it would be good for both children and adults, and that it would help them cope with the type of sadness which stays with us and has to be coped with alongside everyday life. I wanted children to be told that they can build their sadness a shelter as early as possible, as I think that telling children to be 'resilient' (which is a good thing in itself) can sometimes be abusive - it can sometimes really be just saying 'don't tell us you are sad, even though as adults we are doing things which make you sad'. I think children have lots of things to be sad about - big and little things - and learning to build a shelter for their sadness can, paradoxically, help them have permission and space to be happy. DAVID: My hope for the book was to get children - and adults - to talk more about their emotions and how they are feeling. Don't just bundle them up inside. It's important to recognise how you are feeling, recognise that it's there and it exists. And talk it through with someone. A parent or a teacher, or just someone that you trust. The worst thing we can do as human beings is pretend that these feelings are not real and that we should just get over it. Q: Was there one thing that helped inspire the text? ANNE: Yes. I went to a talk at my church, and the speaker quoted this passage from Etty Hillesum; 'Give your sorrow all the space and shelter in yourself that is its due, for if everyone bears grief honestly and courageously, the sorrow that now fills the world will abate. But if you do instead reserve most of the space inside you for hatred and thoughts of revenge - from which new sorrows will be born for others - then sorrow will never cease in this world. And if you have given sorrow the space it demands, then you may truly say: life is beautiful and so rich.' (Esther 'Etty' Hillesum (15 Jan 1914 - 30 Nov 1943) I wrote our picture book text in response to Etty Hillesum's words, so I was trying to expand on her idea that we need to give shelter to our sorrow / sadness, as I thought she had such a wise and beautiful vision, which was, amazingly, born out of her immense suffering as a Dutch Jewish woman under the Nazis, and someone who would actually die in the Holocaust. It was written as my creative response to her words, so writing it actually helped me to think and pray about my own sadness, and I felt it would be a good picture book, to help people cope with sadness that just can't be fixed, but which we need not to overwhelm us or turn us to hate or bitterness. I loved the idea that if we give shelter to our sadness we can truly say that 'life is beautiful and so rich'. Q: Was it a difficult text to write, as it is so pared back? ANNE: I think that because it came after the talk, and hearing Etty Hillesum's beautiful words, and after meditating on, and praying in response, to them, I didn't actually want to use many words. I wasn't paring back anything as such, I was just trying to find my best response to her words, and the writing of it came all at once, but I think the writing wouldn't have come that way if I hadn't already experienced and thought a lot about sadness for years, and hadn't deeply connected with Etty Hillesum's words. Q: Why did you decide the main character would be a boy? ANNE: As I was writing from my own point of view, and in response to Etty Hillesum, I suppose I thought the narrator might be a girl, but I was open to any interpretation. I'm not sure if it was the publisher or David who decided the main character would be a boy, but I am very happy with that. I hope it speaks to boys and girls, men and women, and I think that there is actually something good about it being a boy, as from a very young age, little boys are told to 'man up' and are put under particular pressure not to cry or express sadness - all part of toxic masculinity - so hopefully this will play a part in countering that and telling boys and girls that there is nothing to be ashamed about being sad. DAVID: I'm not sure how this was decided. For some reason I just instinctively drew a boy when I was sketching the book out. I think that's a case of me very much seeing myself in the character as I was making the book. Perhaps an argument can be made that some boys need more help in facing their emotions than girls. But to be honest, I think I just instinctively recognised myself in that character and drew him as a boy. Q: David, what drew you to this text, why did you want to illustrate it? DAVID: As soon as I read Anne's manuscript I knew that I 100% wanted to be the illustrator. I received the project over two years ago and I couldn't start straight away due to other project commitments. I was so scared that Templar would not be able to wait for me. But I was so happy and relieved that they decided to wait until I had finished the other books I was working on. The text just really connected with me and it stirred up some very raw emotions in me. I also recognised that it would be unlike any book I had ever drawn before and the challenge of creating it was something that I really wanted to take on. Q: How did you decide how to depict Sadness? DAVID: There have been a few really fantastic books recently that depict sadness and other emotions as an actual character. Some of my favourites are 'When sadness Comes To Call' by Eva Eland, 'Me and My Fear' by Francesca Senna, and 'Ruby's Worry' by Tom Percival. All of these handle these sensitive subjects so beautifully and visualise what an emotion could look like in the real world. I see our book very much as a continuation of these series of books and the themes they follow. They were definitely a big influence on me when I was drawing the book. In terms of the look of our Sadness, I came up with a number of ideas in my sketchbook. One was a very ghostly, scary looking thing. The other was a teardrop and one was a cloud. But then I just thought about what a typical six or seven year old might draw if I asked them to visualise their sadness. All these confusing and conflicting emotions might come together and it felt like a really messy, scruffy scribble would fit the bill perfectly. Also, I remember trying to articulate how I felt when I was young and the words just wouldn't come out. So drawing a confusing, mess of emotions just felt right. It's also a really great character to draw. you really do feel like you are getting some emotions out of your system and onto the paper when you draw Sadness. Q: David, Can you tell us how you create your images and that special luminosity in your pages? DAVID: Everything starts in my sketchbook and I will plan the whole book out with lots of scruffy sketches. But once I start making the final artwork I usually begin by making lots of very messy watercolour washes, letting the different colours naturally mix into each other. I will also take photos of other textures such as the bark of a tree, or concrete or the sky. I will then scan all of this into my computer and experiment with overlaying each of them together until I find a look and feel that I like. These will then generally take the form of a background for a spread. The characters and buildings I will usually draw out in my sketchbook and then scan these into my computer also. Using Photoshop I will position these over the backgrounds and add other textures over them and just see what works. Basically, its a lot of experimenting and seeing what works with all these different types of media and textures. The luminosity is just an extension of what my art teachers have always taught me about shade and light. But I do like to play around with light and the atmosphere that can bring to an image. I think I really appreciated the drama of light from watching too many Steven Spielberg films growing up. Q: Do you have a favourite spread? ANNE: I love them all! I think the last page is so, so beautiful and gives me hope, but that is because of all the pages that came before, so I couldn't choose! I think David has done an amazing job - the book is so beautiful. DAVID: I like a lot of them. I love the penultimate page where the boy and sadness are walking through the blooming garden. I like the spread early on where Sadness is going through all of the different ways it is feeling and all the different actions it is taking. But I think my favourite image is the simple one of Sadness and the boy sitting together on the log. They are not saying or doing anything, they are just together and there for each other. That's one of my favourite illustrations I have ever drawn in fact. I love it. Q: Will you be creating any more picture books about emotions? What are you working on now? ANNE: I would love to write more picture books about emotions. I have an idea I am trying to find words for - it isn't coming as easily as A Shelter for Sadness but I hope it can work. I also have a little picture book story I am working on, and I am revising and rewriting a middle grade novel, and am waiting to be given edits for an adult novel and should be starting a second adult novel, so I have lots to be getting on with! DAVID: I hope so. I think I will always try and convey emotion in my books and hope that the reader can recognise their own emotions in these stories. Q: Where is your favourite place to work? ANNE: I work in bed (where I am typing this) and in a little writing hut my husband built me in our garden. I also write sitting on the sofa or at the table. When the pandemic is over, I am so looking forward to working in a coffee shop again! I do find it very helpful, when I have lots of work to do, to go away for a few days, to somewhere like Gladstone's Library in Wales, or beautiful retreats in England or France or Ireland I have been to. DAVID: My favourite place to work doesn't actually exist yet. I would love to create art in a cabin in the woods, surrounded by nature. Unfortunately I haven't found that place yet, but I have hope that I will one day soon. At the minute, due to lockdown, I'm drawing my books in the corner of my bedroom, which is not ideal as I'm quite messy and it's quite a small space. It can get a bit frustrating. But, every once in a while I can pretend that I'm in that cabin in the woods and everything feels right again. Q: Where are you most likely to be found when you're not at your desk? ANNE: Maybe out with my husband, walking our dog, or reading in bed, or sitting watching something lovely - I really appreciate good TV and films and I love watching them with other people. I love chatting with family and friends and visiting them. For a post-pandemic answer, I want to leave my desk and travel to see friends and family. DAVID: Mainly riding my bike with my two sons, or walking our dog Maggie, or listening to music very loudly on my headphones. Thank you Anne and David for joining us on ReadingZone!

See original post here: https://readingzone.com/index.php?zone=sz&page=interview&authorid=623a7c5192eb0909e0d251c44bae33c1

[davidfarland]

David Farland’s Writing Tips—Writing the “Big” Book

When you look at novels carefully, you will notice that the bestselling books of all time are usually big “doorstoppers.” In each genre, we see this pattern.

When the novel Dune was published, it was rejected by every publisher in the business until a company that sold engine books illustrating engine parts (so that you could easily order parts for repairs) decided to publish the novel. It became the bestselling science fiction novel of all time.

A Tale of Two Cities was rejected by so many publishers, the author finally published it himself with the help of an investor—and it became the bestselling mainstream book in English for the next 150 years.

With Harry Potter, the twelve largest publishers in the world rejected it because it was “too big” for Middle Grade readers. It has since gone on to sell 500 million copies and become the bestselling Middle Grade novel of all time.

Yet as authors, we are told over and over again to write skinnier novels. My editor at Tor used to try to cut every novel down to under 130,000 words. I like to write them a bit closer to 200,000.

I’ve heard several reasons why we should write skinny novels.

Publishers complain that paper costs are usually steep enough so that if you have too many pages, it’s hard to get customers to pay the higher price required for a big book. I recall one publisher complaining of a bestselling novel by Robert Jordan—“We’re selling millions of them, but we are wondering if we’re losing money on every book we sell, with today’s paper prices being so high.”

One editor pointed out that with fat books, there are only a couple of binderies in the US that can handle a book that holds over 400 pages, so they are tougher to make. Indeed, with mass-market paperbacks, we didn’t have glue that would bind 600-page books together until the mid-1980s.

Booksellers like Barnes & Noble often complained to publishers that fat books were unprofitable because they took up so much space on the racks. In fact, the US’s largest bookseller warned publishers that they would refuse to take fat books if the publishers kept printing them.

Yet people keep reading fat books. Indeed, I remember as a teen browsing through bookshelves at store, checking the spines, and rejecting many a highly lauded book just because they looked too darned thin for my tastes.

When I read, I used to think, I wanted to feast on a big book, and thin books left me feeling unsatisfied.

I used to suspect that the reason we like fat books had to do with their power to transport us. The most popular books tend to transport us to another time and another place. Writing about settings well takes a lot of space.

But creating vivid settings is only part of goal. We as readers want powerful stories told within those vivid settings. In other words, there was something about the plot of the story that made the longer books appealing to me.

Now I recognize that there are storytelling techniques that I like that require multiple storylines to be woven together at the same time. By keeping three or four storylines in play, an author can drive the reader into a deep state of hypnosis (the Theta state), where stories come to life more vividly than a lighter tale allows.

So, as writers we have a quandary. Do we write the huge fat books that readers love, or do we write the thin books that publishers and distributors want to stack deep on the shelves?

Or, is there a middle ground? When Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings, he intentionally wrote a “long book.” I believe that he understood the effect that he was trying to achieve. In the 1950s, he taught a class at Oxford where he discussed the importance of telling stories from multiple narrators so that an author could create a “dreamlike state” as quickly as possible.

So when he wrote LOTR, he imagined it as one huge novel. He typed it up and sent it to his publisher in an orange crate because, back then, orange crates were made of wood and were sturdy enough to hold his 2000-page manuscript.

The publisher looked at it and declared it an “act of genius,” but worried that they’d lose money on it.

So they broke it into three pieces and sold it as a “trilogy". Suddenly, authors could write longer narratives so long as we kept them in a series.

That means that you can write a sprawling story, but you almost need to devise breaking points in the story every 130,000 words to make it easy and profitable for publishers.

Or, you can just plan to publish an e-book, where printing and binding don’t matter. A survey on Amazon a couple of years ago found that in the long run, even in e-books, it’s the long books that tend to sell the best.

318R Workshop

From 1999 to 2002, David Farland taught a popular science fiction and fantasy writing class at Brigham Young University. Some of his students from those classes went on and made millions. Brandon Sanderson took it twice, and has become one of the bestselling writers of our time. Dan Wells also took it, and became one of the bestselling writes of dark fantasy of the past three decades. Stephenie Meyer took it, and has sold over 100 million copies of her Twilight trilogy.

Now, just for the fun of it, Dave is going to teach the class online. His new workshop, "318R" will feature much of the same content, only it will be better, because as Dave put is, "I've learned a lot."

It will also have the same assignments that Dave used. Each participant will be asked to write either three short stories or three chapters to a novel for critique.

The class will be limited to 20 people, and will be taught live on Saturday mornings from 10:00 to 11:00 AM MST. We'll have a total of 30 classes. They'll be taped, so if you miss one, you can watch the tape, even repeat it if you like. Seriously, this will take seven months.

But wait, there is more! In the classes at BYU, many students came to "audit" the class. They weren't required to take the tests or turn in assignments, but were encouraged to participate in the classes, and since their work wasn't critiqued, they only paid half price. So, we'll have twenty students who will get the whole "318R experience," but others will be allowed to sit in, ask questions, learn, and have fun. We'll begin on Jan 2, just in time for the New Year, and we will finish up in August.

The price for taking the class will be $360. The price for auditing will be $180.

If you're interested in attending, please send an email to davidfarland1@gmail.com with the word 318R in the subject header.

[kirishwima]

I'm glad to hear you're having so much fun! I'd like the RFA boys (including V, my fave as well ♡ ) reaction to MC who's super outgoing & fun in the chatroom (cracking jokes with Seven, teasing & complimenting the others, jokingly flirting & fangirling over Elizabeth 3rd) but doesn't show up to the party bc she's like super shy & awkward in person, especially since she's nervous about meeting them for the first time? How would they handle it? Sry this is oddly specific & many thanks ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ❤

awe i really like this idea! id probably be just as shy tbh lmaosince you specified MC’s gender, I’ll write this with a female MC! ^^

ZEN:

* He’s seen MC before the party as she’s visited his home, but he was so shocked to see this cute shy girl on his front door, so unlike the bubbly person he’d got used to in the RFA chatrooms!

* He figured it’s just nervousness because she’s meeting him for the first time and tried to make her as comfortable as possible, reminding her that he’s still the same person as the one she’s talked  to in the messenger, but it does little to ease her nerves-MC’s stiff as a brick, stuttering short responses to Zen’s questions

* Eventually he decides to take a bolder approach-as they’re sitting on the couch sipping tea, he takes a hold of MC’s free hand and interlocks her fingers with him, bringing them up to his heart.

* “Do you feel how fast it’s beating?” he asks, his face a flush of furious red to match his eyes, “you’re the cause of it. I’m just as nervous as you are, and the only reason I can hide it so well is because of my acting skills, so please...don’t be so nervous around me. Let’s make each other feel more comfortable.”

* MC promises she’ll try, and slowly but surely manages to ease up a little around Zen, enough at least to talk normally with him (she will however McFreaking Faint if he so much as hugs her which, let’s be real, is totally valid)

* Talking to Zen has been accomplished, but going to the RFA party, where she’ll have to face dozens of strangers at once...is a completely different matter

* The day of the party, Zen woke up much earlier than she did, getting everything ready for the big day, his nervousness manifesting into an excited energy. 

* MC on the other hand...wasn’t having it. The moment she woke up her stomach churned, her skin pale with terror. She couldn’t do this, it was impossible, she just can’t up and go to this party, she can’t face all these strangers at once she can’t-

* Zen immediatly noticed her anxiety, and tried his best to talk her out of it-assured her he’ll be with her the whole time, and that the rest of the RFA would have her back as well.

* If he saw that MC was still nervous, he’d hold her hand in his, and tell her it’s okay if she doesn’t want to be there, if she wants to take it slow in meeting everyone else, but that if she decided to come, he’d protect her like her knight in shining armor. 

* At the end of the day, the choice is hers, and he’ll support it no matter what

JUMIN:

* The situation is somewhat similar as Zen’s-meeting MC before the party helped her get used to him, and with such big matters like Elizabeth the 3d dissappearing at hand, she had little time to let her shyness sink in-she had to be there for Jumin, and that took the most priority in her mind.

* When all was said and done however, and she’d finally gone back to the apartment to prepare for the party....her legs turned into jello, her stomach twisted uncomfortably in her belly as she realised just what would take place the next day.

* It wasn’t even just the party and the guests, it wasn’t just that she’d be meeting the rest of the RFA-Jumin had invited his father, his father’s girlfriend, all those cameramen....goosebumps appeared on her skin just at the thought of it

* She felt horribly guilty when, on the day of the party, instead of waking up and getting ready, she laid in bed curled into a ball, her breath hitched in her throat.

* Even checking the time became stressful-what was the rest of the RFA doing right now? Would they hate her for ditching them like that? Would Jumin despise her?

* She couldn’t say she wasn’t expecting a call when the hour of the party neared. Jaehee was the first to call, frantic as to why MC wasn’t there yet when she ‘was the star of this event’ according to Jumin. She let MC know just how busy the venue was, something she could judge for herself just by the hustle and bustle she could hear in the backgroung of the call.

* “I’m sorry Jaehee I just-I can’t make it. I’m really not feeling well, I’ll-I’ll send an apology to the guests after the party. Please greet them properly for me.”

* Jaehee couldn’t get another word in before MC hung up, her fingers shaking as she ended the call.

* Moments later she received another phone call, this time from Jumin.

* She expected him to yell, to ask her how she could disappoint him like this, why she’d betray his trust-

* What she didn’t expect was the sound of a moving car as Jumin answered the phone, worry ebbed in his voice.

* “MC? Where are you, what’s wrong? Jaehee said you’re not feeling well, I’ve let her take care of the guests and I’m heading your way. I haven’t managed to contact V yet and ask about the apartment’s location but I’m working on it, do you think you can meet me at the nearest street to the apartment? Do you require medical assistance?”

* He was bombarding her with questions, and she could picture his face perfectly-loosening his tie as his throat felt constricted, a scrunch forming at the bridge of his nose as his lips form a thin line, his tell-tale sign of worry.

* “Jumin I-” she couldn’t lie, not to him. “I can’t-there’s so many people coming, so many cameras, and I know I promised I’ll be right beside you, and I don’t want to betray that trust I just-I can’t do it. I’m not comfortable with this, you saw how I was just with meeting you, what if I make a fool of myself at the party?!”

* Jumin remained silent for a long moment before replying, his voice gentler than she’d ever heard it before.

* “Darling, you could never betray my trust. I love you and believe in you wholeheartedly, and would never want to put you in a position you’re not comforatble with. If you feel that the party will make you nervous, then we simply won’t go. I can deal with Sarah and Glam Choi in a different way. What matters the most to me is you.”

* This boy loves MC, no questions asked. He’ll do whatever will make her happy and comfortable ((even if it makes poor Jaehee suffer orz))

YOOSUNG:

* This boy...has literally gone through hell and back for MC

* And he’d do it 100 times over, because even if he hasn’t met her, he loves her. Not for who he thought she’d be, but for who she is, and for who she helped him become.

*He’s so excited to meet her at the party, he even left the hospital early simply to be there for her...

*....Only MC is no where to be found.

* Immediatly he feels his heart drop. He’s so worried something happened to her, maybe that evil organisation got to her-maybe-

* He wastes no time in calling her, rushing out of the party venue, ready to grab Seven by the collar and get the location of Rika’s apartment out of him if he must so he can find MC.

* When MC answers, he’s shocked by the quietness of her voice, how it sounds like she’s almost trembling as she speaks. He asks her what’s wrong, if he needs his help, and she breaks down, telling him the truth about how nervous and shy she is, how she doesn’t feel like she can come to the RFA party.

* Yoosung...really gets it. He was quite similar to MC until not so long ago!

* “Okay. If you don’t want to come, then you don’t have to”, he says, and MC feels as if he’ll hang up after saying this, probably to never speak to her again, “but I’m coming to you. You’re my pre-girlfriend remember? And-listen, I’m shy too. I’d be shaking like a leaf if I were to talk to a girl on the phone at any other instance! But you changed that. You helped me become a better, braver person, and I’m still changing and evolving, thakns to you. So...let me help you change as well? Please?”

* Who can say no to this boy, srsly

* If MC’s fine with it, he’ll meet her for coffee (Although to be fair she’ll probably have to drag him back to the hospital YOOSUNG IT’S NOT SAFE TO BE OUTSIDE AFTER SUCH A SURGERY i have to break the fourth wall as a med student to say this aA)), and he’ll help her slowly meet the rest of the RFA, one at a time

* ...He’d probably leave Seven for last though lmao

SEVEN:

* I mean, neither of them was going to go to the RFA party anyway lmao

* Let’s, for the sake of this scenario, assume that they’re both attending next year’s RFA party, after the hacker incident!

* Seven’s so excited, he’s picked what suit he’ll wear weeks before the party, happy to be enjoying this with his beloved.

* MC however...doesn’t seem all that thrilled.

* He knows she’s shy-it took her so long to open up to him, he genially thought she hated him at first! She’d barely glance his way, her cheeks burning a fiery red that easily beat his hair colour the first time they’d kissed, and it took a long time for her to simply get used to his presence around her.

*He knew what it’s like to be a different person online, so he’d never judge her for it-besides, he knows both her online persona and the shy girl in front of him are the same person, just how his happy-go-lucky attitude on the messenger is just another side of him too.

* He tried his best to hype her up for the party, told her about all the pranks they could pull on Yoosung and Zen, how he’d hack the speakers to Rick Roll everyone if she wanted him to, and for a while, it seemed like she was a little excited about it to.

* The night before the party however, as Seven brought his suit out to show to MC (or maybe he brought out another cosplay to troll her lol), MC broke down, tears striking her face as she shook her head, saying she can’t she can’t do this, can’t go to a room full of strangers and act happy, she’d be so nervous she’d vomit, what if she makes a full of herself-

* Seven stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder and gripping her gently to snap her out of it.

* “We don’t have to go if you don’t feel comfortable. MC, I never, never want to pressure you into anything, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you have to go. Listen, we can spend the day just us two, we can meet the rest of the RFA at a later time and explain it to them, we don’t have to go, you hear me? I just...I want you to be happy. That’s that.”

* She shook her head. “No but-you were so excited to go, I don’t want you to miss out because of me I’m-”

* Seven laughs with a roll of his eyes, bringing his hands to wipe the tears off of MC’s face. “Do you hear yourself? I’m not missing out on anything, except the moments when I’m not with you, silly. There’ll be another RFA party time and time again, but if you never want to go to any of them, then I won’t go either. Besides...we can always troll the RFA from the comfort of our home too” he shrugs, a devilish smirk on his lips.

* He’ll definitely try and help MC to slowly come out of her comfort zone, but he realises such a feat takes time, and he’s not about to push her into a situation she won’t feel safe in. He’s happy so long as they’re together, be it at the party, at home, or at the ends of the earth.

V/JIHYUN:

* Again, for the sake of the scenario, we’re talking about a future RFA party, after everything’s been settled. 

* It’s the first RFA party he’d go to in a long time, and he’s just so happy to be there with MC by his side, to make new, wonderful memories with her.

* He has to admit, when he met her he was taken aback by how shy she was-the way she spoke to him via messages, it was nothing alike to the way she stuttered as she greeted him (granted, she did think he was nothing but an AI so *shrug*)

* He was so insanely patient though, approaching her slowly, at her own pace, until she was comfortable enough around him to just be herself. He’d never wanst to upset her, and would honestly wait forever if it’s what she needed.

* So when he noticed her apprehension about the party, he didn’t think much of it-he’d talk to her about it, try to make her as comfortable as possible, tell her that both he and the rest of the RFA would be there for her no matter what.

* It seemed like she agreed, as she smiled and nodded, but that all changed the day of the party.

* V woke up with a smile on his lips, ready to face the day, only when he patted the bed next to him for MC she was no where to be found.

* He frowned, but figured she might’ve woken up before him, the nervousness for the day keeping her up.

* He was more than shocked to find her in the kitchen, tears threatening to spill from her face as she looked down into her cup of coffee.

* He’s there for her in a flash, cupping her face between his hands, kissing her eyelids as he whispers soft affirmations to her.

* “Honey, no, what’s wrong? Please don’t cry, please..”

* It took a while to calm her down, and even then feeling the tremble of her body as she spoke made his heart ache.

* “I’m sorry V, I’m so sorry I-I know you were so excited for the party but I just-I’m not ready for this. I tried, I’m trying to push myself, to be more open and social so I can be the girlfriend you can proudly bring with you to parties and gallery openings and stuff but I’m-I’m not ready” she concluded with a defeated sigh, another sob threatening to escape her lips.

* V kissed her, once, twice, held her in a tight embrace as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

* “Baby, I don’t care about any of that. If you don’t feel comfortable going to the party, then we don’t have to go, and that’s that. I don’t care about galleries or parties or anything of the sort. I care about you.” He leaned back holding MC by the shoulders as he smiled, fondness clear in his eyes. “I care about you. I love you. I do want to help you slowly get out of your comfort zone, if anything then only so you can see how much kindness can exist between strangers, how much more of the world you can experience when you put anxiety aside, but I never never want to pressure you into anything.”

* He means it. This boy just wants his girlfriend to be happy, parties be damned.

* He’s absoloutely content to spend the day cuddling MC and watching old movies; he trusts the rest of the RFA and knows the party will be just as successful even without the two of them there.

* He will do his best to slowly help MC with her shyness, and maybe, eventually-they’ll proudly stand side by side at a future RFA party.

Sorry this was sort of long lol, hope you like it!

~Send me scenarios/headcanons for mystic messenger character(s) to react to!~

[zukoromantic]

HELLO FOLKS

I am more than a week late for this, BUT HONESTLY, IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO APPRECIATE OUR LOVELY BEAKLEY!!!!!

@beakleyappreciationweek

I started this on time actually, but only got around to finish it now so that's kinda sad, but i needed to post it regardless!!

12th (DAY 4):  mother and daughter / grief

(I am not exactly sure if this even counts but lmao, whatever! Beakley's probably gone through some tough times in her life and I just really wanted to write this okay)

SO UHM YEAH

------------------------

It had been six months. And what six months they had been. Many things had changed. Some hadn't. Everything had fallen to pieces, but at the same time, things weren't much different. The same had even been true for Beakley's own emotions.

She hadn't been sad when she heard the news from Scrooge. She had only been shocked. But oh, shocked she had been alright. She couldn't even really believe it at first.

"He is dead?", she asked disbelievingly. Not because she thought Scrooge was joking. He certainly didn't look like he was joking. In fact, the last time she had seen Mr. McDuck this devastated had been when... No, that was many years ago.

Now, yet another resident of the manor was gone.

The reason she had asked was because she had - ironically enough - never thought about him dying some day. Killing him? For sure. Some days, when he would get her especially frustrated, she had made very elaborate plans on how she could murder him without anyone being able to trace it back to her. She wasn't a spy for nothing after all. But him actually being dead? As in, not alive anymore, not living in the mansion. She had never really considered it. She tended to forget he was a bit older than her, and the thought of him dying before her was something she had always thought to be in the distant future.

He had been a part of her day like no other. Not a pleasant one, the oppisite. One snarky remark was enough to ruin her afternoon, that's how much she had despised his presence at times.

"I'm sure you were planning on forgetting the dishes in the sink on purpose. Luckily enough, Mr. McDuck has at least one servant who does their job properly."

Not only were his comments rude and unnecessary, but he often seemed to forget that she did not only have a full time job, but also a seven year old granddaughter whom she needed to take care of. It certainly wasn't Beakley's fault that this stupid butler immediately jumped to finish her tasks when she had to leave them alone for twenty minutes. The worst part was that she was 100% sure he knew exactly what he was doing every single time.

All of that made it a lot harder for Beakley to admit to herself that apart from all of the comments - which she certainly didn't miss - she did miss him in the mansion.

At first, she hadn't had any emotions regarding his death. She was even a little bit surprised herself at how cold-hearted she could be. But she was fine with it. At first. Nobody to insult her. Nobody to get on her nerves. Nobody to randomly wander into while cleaning. Nobody to share the work with. No other adult person willing to have a conversation that didn't regard money or breakfast.

She hated to admit it - and not to anyone else, she wouldn't - that their encounters... had kept her a bit more grounded in a way. She guessed that, technically, not all of them had even been too unpleasant. Sometimes, they would just exchange a few more or less bitter words. It had all been a bit less... lonely with him around.

Now? Scrooge had been talking even less since the funeral. Beakley knew he had cried. Not more than his ego would allow of course, and not in front of her. Or in front of anyone for that matter. It was no secret he was isolated from the public... or his family. Or his own employees. Now, he was even more alone. Beakley certainly wouldn't talk to him about it unless he initiated a conversation and she knew he would never. If he wanted to be like this, it was his decision. And he didn't care much about what she was up to either...

She now had not only a hand full with even more housekeeping, but Webby as well. She thanked the Gods for Webby. Seeing her grow more and more during those past years had been the most wonderful thing that had happened to her in a far too long time. It reminded her of the time when she was raising her own daughter. Of course the circumstances that led to Webby needing a different caretaker had not been optimal to say the least. But it was okay now. Webby was the one thing that had kept her where she was those past years and she wouldn't trade her for the world, even when the young girl's energy was a lot to handle sometimes.

Webby had been down after his death too. It had been no surprise to Beakly, considering he was the person she spent the second most time with.

Beakley had to smile. He had never been able to say no when Webby chose he was his new target on an important mission she had made up or when she needed someone to pretend they were a bad guy surprised to find that whoever she decided to be at the moment had found her after all, despite their efforts to remain hidden. He hadn't given his best regarding the acting, but it was always good enough.

At the time, Beakley couldn't help but be a little jealous at how much Webby used to like to play with him (she would never threaten her granny of course, so these roles were off the table for her), but now she missed the sight.

It took a while until Webby liked going on imaginary adventures as much again, but she had to leave a lot more to her imagination now. Beakley was sure that Webby never cried during the funeral or afterwards - she was still very young - but she knew that she was sad nonetheless. She had even chosen special flowers for that day to place on the grave.

Beakley made sure to spend as much time with her as possible ever since, which was hard because spending more time on both her job and with her grand-daughter was physically not possible without sacrifices. So not only had she gotten less sleep, but she was also less thorough with the house-keeping at times.

It wasn't like Scrooge would notice with being fully commited to his own unhappiness.

Yet another reason Beakly truly was grateful for having Webby to brighten her every day, even though it meant being more exhausted than she already would have been.

But oh, how wouldn't he just love this.

Getting careless? For shame nobody is around anymore who is actually capable of doing their job.

Gagh, how had he managed to get inside her head like this?

She looked angrily at the tombstone that she was standing in front of.

Duckworth

That was all it said. No more names, no dates, nothing. She wasn't sure why exactly, she didn't have anything to do with the grave or the funeral. Mr. McDuck had some of his people organize it after he gave them clear directions on most things. Maybe it had even been in that idiot's own will to have it like this and no other way. She wouldn't be surprised.

But she hated the remaining result.

It was like he had found a way of mocking her even after his death.

This was the first time she was here since the funeral. She hadn't shed a tear back then and she certainly wouldn't now.

That stupid butler really had the nerve to just die. He really was just going to lie here forever, leaving her alone in the mansion and silently letting her be angry for the rest of days. How did he possibly manage to be even worse now when he was dead?

Since the very momemt they met, she never would have thought it would eventually come to this. But she certainly liked him better when he was alive.

[winterisakillerwrites]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff​ for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

Previous

CHAPTER TWO

  “So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.

 She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven.

 Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed…

 Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.”

 A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy.

 Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening.

 Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish.

 The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head.

 “Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?”

 Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through.

 Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph.

 Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet.

 Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?”

 “Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question.

 Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.”

 “And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…”

 “It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.”

 Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.”

 “Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.”

 “Rose…”

 She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.”

 Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word.

 Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.”

 “I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled.

 Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.”

 “I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.”

 She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.”

                                                              ___

  “Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the Stories Untold family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.”

 The newest Stories location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease.

 It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately.

 “You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary.

 “Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task.

 Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.”

 A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos.

 Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.

                                                       ____

  “Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in?”

 Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her.

 Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago.

 Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter.

 “We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.”

 Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.”

 Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.”

 “So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” Professional, she told herself, I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head.

 It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.”

 Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?”

 Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”

 Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest.

 She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.”

 Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?”

 Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.”

 A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?”

 He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful.

 She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…”

 He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?”

 Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she.

 He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?”

 Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.”

                                                         ___

  It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. Pathetic, she chided herself. You are completely, ridiculously pathetic.

 Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something.

 Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat.

 “Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door.

 The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?”

 Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.”

 Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?”

 Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.”

 Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully.

 “I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room.

 “General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table.

 Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully.

 “So…Movie?”

 Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?”

 Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.”

 A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”

                                                      ___

  The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.”

 Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!”

 Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them.

 It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?”

 “Rosie?”

 The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?”

 “Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone.

 She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom! “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!”

 A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.”

 “S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point.

 “I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.”

 Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?”

 Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.”

 “Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant.

 “No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…”

 She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not that bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat.

 “Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.”

 She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?”

 “I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now.

 In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. Damn him. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now.”

 “Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?”

 “Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly not a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were.

 “Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.”

 She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…”

 “Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass.

 Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”

 Next  

[azalynestudios]

(I don't have a tumblr so you'll have to deal with anonymity, I'm afraid) What I came to ask you: when will you admit that you have lost the drive and motivation to continue the project? It has been made clear by now that you bit off more than you can chew, both by constant delays and excuses and by how the writing quality in alpha version have steadily deteriorated. I don't want yo be mean, but someone had to say it. Whatever interest and hype there were for your game, they're mostly gone.

I seriously debated whether I should answer this one or not. Not because I’m not on board with full honesty, but because there’s enough unhappy things in the world and I have been purposefully trying to keep my personal unhappy away from everyone here because you are all so lovely.

But ultimately I decided I should respond just in case there’s lots of people thinking the same thing.

Here’s a short version for people who aren’t up for a discussion of health/mental health/world talk/real talk (and don’t feel bad if that is you!): I have 100% not lost interest or drive for the game. Although it has been taking much longer than anticipated, It’s coming along. And while your opinion on the writing quality may vary, I personally think these last weeks have some of the best moments in the game. If it’s not to your taste anymore or you are sick of waiting, that’s totally fair. Thank you for your support this far and I wish you all the best!

okay the rest under the happy kittens cut:

Okay, real talk time, full disclosure. With a possible side of TMI.

So I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone when I admit that I haven’t been as great about responding in a timely fashion and this last update took way longer to complete than I would ever have guessed. And it’s recently gotten out of hand in a way I am deeply ashamed of. I feel very much like I have let you all down and I am really truly very sorry. It doesn’t have anything to do with any of you, you have all been (for the most part) completely lovely and kind and patient.

So here the honest story of how we got here.

-So despite everything, I definitely underestimated how much increasing work every week would take. Like I knew it would compound but I didn’t have any idea HOW MUCH it could compound. A big part of the delays is just how much more complicated everything is to write in these later parts of the game. It’s no exaggeration to say just this week seven update took HUNDREDS of hours of HARD work. (Some scenes used to be relatively easy to write. Nothing in week seven is fluff, nothing was easy to write.)

-A couple years ago I was getting a massive amount of asks a day. Trying to keep up with everything was seriously cutting into my work time as well as making me feel stressed and always behind. I started to cut back on responding and noticed that delays led to much less asks/emails. Less asks meant less stress. As things got worse for me the temptation to have delays so I didn’t have so much to respond to also got worse. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t working on other things, it just meant I wasn’t updating and answering properly.

-You guys have to remember that except for the art, I am doing 98% of this game completely solo. It is a lot for any game, especially one of this size.

okay with that all in mind, here’s what’s been happening on my end.

-Trump is elected. Faith in humanity takes a major hit. News/internet becomes a trash fire of bad. 

My stress levels and anxiety levels (already high because of the game and always, always feeling like I’m behind and not doing enough) spike to epic levels. I even get a few early gray hairs. (They seem to be gone now, thankfully.)

-For the sake of my mental health I have to drastically cut down on my general internet use and where I go (including tumblr, sadly)

-My health starts to take mysterious nosedives. For like 6 months I’m having serious stomach pain that is keeping me up at night. I’m also puking 3-6 times a week during this time. 

Things start to get better and I get back on track.

-My grandma dies out of nowhere from a brain aneurysm. I don’t get into my family situation on purpose, but my grandma is the only person in my entire giant family outside of my mom and my brothers that I have ever really believed actually cared about/loved me as I am.

And presto, I’m back in a bad place.

My stomach issues finally work themselves out, but my immune system still hasn’t recovered. I’m getting minor infections, colds and flus at least once or twice a month even now. 

All this time I have been working hard both on the game and on getting my mental and physical health back on track. I have my good moments and my bad.

There are two major ways how all of this has affected the game/my communication with you guys. 

1) Like I said, everything is 100% me. If I’m sick or in an anxiety spiral there is no one else to take over to communicate or bug check or whatever. Progress is completely tied to me. Which leads to the next point…

2) There’s a really bad loop. When I’m feeling anxious/stressed/depressed I can’t get everything done that I want to. Which leads to me feeling like shit/super guilty. Which leads to more anxiety and stress. And a deep, deep fear that when I check my email/asks, it will be full of people who are mad at me or disappointed or whatever, and the cycle continues.

I don’t say any of this to make anyone feel bad, or guilty or anything. In my good place, I truly love communicating with you guys and I truly think you are the most amazing people ever.

And I don’t say this as an ‘excuse’ in the sense that I think any of it is anyone’s responsibility to handle but my own. No one is obligated to wait for this game or for me. When I took money, I was taking on a professional obligation. All failures to live up to that and handle things in a more professional and responsible manner are on me and I deeply apologize for not being live up to your expectations. 

But no matter how bad things were for me, I never for a moment thought about on giving up on the game. And I promise you, I will finish the game. And it’s honestly very close. (Not that I don’t anticipate the epilogues and million game ending variations to take a long time to write and debug) but compared to where we started we have come lightyears.

You can be assured that everything that has happened during this development I have learned from and taken from heart. I now have a much better idea of what works for me and what doesn’t. In the future, if I manage enough support and interest to continue this as a career, I won’t be making the same mistakes again. Rather than doing a backer/alpha system I most likely will only release major news/announce games when they are close to finished. 

Thank you all for your patience support and interest all this time. 

(p.s. While I appreciate your concern in advance, I assure I am already on top of what I can to work things out on my end. While I appreciate your good wishes, no health/mental health advice please. Thank you!

[winterisakiller]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Two

Chapter: 2/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: T (for now)

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username: winterisakiller (sparkinside)

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER TWO

 “So, how was it?” Jules fired as Rosemary pushed her way into Stories Untold the next morning.

She shot the tall redhead a glare which softened upon seeing the mug of coffee that had been thrust in her direction. She grabbed it and took a grateful sip. Caffeine, she mused. Heaven. 

Seeing Rosemary’s shoulders relax, Jules plowed onward. “Details. I need details. Did you have fun? How much did we raise? Did you talk to anyone famous?” Her eyes had taken on the manic gleam that Rosemary customarily saw only during the run up to a major holiday sales run or anticipated date nights. There was little that could be done to soften the fervor, but it might be postponed… 

Rosemary threw her free hand up in plaintive surrender. “One question at a time, Jules, please. My blood caffeine level is not up to your rapid fire demands just yet. Take pity on me.” 

A sigh was Jules only answer and Rosemary took the welcome reprieve as a chance to finish her coffee and actually place her belongings in the office. And once her coffee had been finished and her purse and coat secured, she’d surrendered wholly to Jules’ excited frenzy. 

Yes, it had been a rather nice time. And yes, she had in fact rubbed elbows with more than a few well knowns. Jules had been particularly interested in her chat with Colin Firth. And yes, they’d managed to raise a great deal more readies than either of them had anticipated. Jules beamed, demanding as many details as Rosemary could remember. She’d indulged as best she could while they filled the register and readied the store for opening. 

Rosemary did not, however, once mention her encounter with Tom. While Jules had cooled in her dislike over the years, Rosemary hadn’t felt the need to rock the boat. Besides, the chances of another run in were slight. They, after all, had managed to avoid one another over the last three years; bringing up him at this juncture would be foolish. 

The sales through lunch were stronger than she’d expected. And once Evan had come in, Rosemary had retired to the back to wage war on the seemingly never-ending paperwork in the back office. Orders in particular had become her pet project of the week. She’d managed to get a quarter of the way through the next months’ proposed work up for both stores when distraction reared its head. 

“Have you seen the pictures?” Jules voice carried from the hallway. “From the gala?” 

Rosemary looked at Jules with momentary confusion. “Pictures?” Then sense came flooding back. Charity event. Photographers. Of course there had been pictures. “God, sorry. Still not firing on all cylinders. I take it I’m in some?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Academically, she’d known it was a possibility but hadn’t really taken the time to think it through. 

Jules cocked an eyebrow. “Not a lot.” She paused to fish something from her pocket. “Though I must say, I am practically green with envy over this one with you and Colin Firth.” She held up her phone and flashed said photograph. 

Rosemary grabbed the phone and studied the shot briefly before handing it back. “Huh. Not too shabby.” It was a nice photograph. She’d looked remarkably put together and not at all discomposed; a feat indeed considering who she’d been standing next to. He was Mr. Darcy after all. With a shake of her head she returned her attention to the latest order sheet. 

Jules, however, remained in the doorway in silence for several moments. Rosemary could feel her eyes burning into the back of her head. “Yes?” 

“Tom was there.” It was a statement, not a question. 

Rosemary sighed. “Yes, he was. We bumped into each other before the auction.” 

“And you didn’t see fit to mention this because…” 

“It wasn’t anything major. We saw each other, made small talk. What else was I supposed to do? Avoiding him or flat out refusing to speak to him would create more questions than it was worth. Besides it’s been three years. It’s water under the bridge.” 

Jules looked less than convinced. “You are in a few. With him.” 

“Oh?” She hoped her tone did not belie the disconcerting feeling that flooded through her. “He was at my table for a spell. We chatted. I guess it was bound to happen.” 

“Rose…” 

She sighed and dropped the papers still in her hand onto the desk “Jules, honey, I’m fine. It wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared it would be. We were both adults and handled ourselves accordingly. No harm, no foul.” 

Jules narrowed her eyes but did not utter a word. 

Rosemary shook her head, “I know what you’re thinking, but really I’m okay. I moved on, we both have. He’s not a horrible person, he never was. We just don’t work. And that’s okay.” 

“I know, Rose. I know. I just…You know what, never mind.” She shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. “I’m going to head back out there and make sure Evan’s not being eaten alive.” She smiled. 

Rosemary shook her head, laughing as well. “Don’t bother; a little chaos is good for him. Builds character.” 

“I’ll just let him know you said that. I’m sure it’ll be a comfort as he nurses his wounds.” 

She laughed in earnest and shifted her attention back to the waiting forms. “He’ll deal.” 

                                                          ___

  “Can you move that display about a foot and a half to the left?” With a good natured groan Max, the newest edition to the Stories Untold family, shifted the display, again. Rosemary studied it critically and then smiled. “Perfect.” 

The newest Stories location had been officially open for a week and, save for a few minor hiccups, had been running smoothly. Sales looked promising and foot traffic was slow but steady. And while Jules’ reports showed that the main store was holding its own, Rosemary still felt the familiar flutter of unease. 

It was silly, she knew, and most days she could pay it rather little mind. This would be her first major change to the business she’d loved and cherished fiercely since she’d taken sole ownership seven years prior. She wanted this to succeed; wanted it desperately. 

“You sure? Like completely, 100%, can’t be any surer, sure?” Max raised his sandy eyebrow which pulled a hearty laugh from everyone in the room and a quirked eyebrow from Rosemary. 

“Watch your cheek, young man.” The laughter in her eyes belied her stern tone. She shook her head and sighed. “Yes. I’m sure. Now, back to the stock room with you; those boxes aren’t going to stock themselves.” Max grumbled good-naturedly as he lumbered off to complete his assigned task. 

Rosemary sighed and turned her attention back to the front counter. “Alright people, let’s get back to work. We’ve got ten minutes before we open.” 

A controlled melee erupted around her; Hanna, the store’s assistant manager, flew to the register, and finished loading the till. Alex and Gabe, stocking and general floor help, ran around the main sales floor making sure everything was settled and ready for the start of business. Rosemary smiled at the chaos. 

Yeah, she thought, this will definitely be a challenge.

                                                             ____

 “Excuse me, do you know if you’ve got the new Carter novel in? 

Rosemary turned, setting the box she’d been carrying onto the counter. She smiled at the woman standing before her. “Let me check.” A few quick taps on the tablet sitting by the registers later and Rosemary nodded. “Yes we do. It will be just here.” She motioned for the woman to follow her. 

Book obtained, the woman thanked Rosemary profusely, quickly paid for her purchase, and hurried from the store, leaving the jangle of the door chime in her wake. Rosemary turned her attention back to the box she’d sat on the counter. With any luck it should be the business cards and other various promotional materials they’d been due a week and a half ago. 

Box cutter in hand, Rosemary had seen but not registered the figure that had entered the store and now stood near the counter. 

“We seem to have a habit of meeting like this,” a familiar, warm voice chuckled. Startled, Rosemary dropped the box cutter and snapped her gaze up. Tom stood, a small but genuine smile lighting his features. “Hello.” 

Rosemary blinked at him for several moments before remembering herself and returning his greeting. “Hi.” She let out a small, nervous laugh and quickly collected herself once more. “You, good sir, seem to have a habit of scaring years off my lifespan.” 

Tom held his hands up in apology. “As always, that was never my intent.” 

“So, Mr. Hiddleston, what brings you in today?” Professional, she told herself, I just need to keep myself professional and I can keep my head. 

It was his turn to chuckle nervously, “You,” he answered with a smile, “Actually.” 

Rosemary was taken aback but fought to hide it. “Oh? And you knew I’d be here because?” 

Tom laughed in earnest. “The store has always been your baby. There isn’t a chance in hell that you’d not be here for the newest launch.”

Rosemary nodded slowly and rested her hands on the counter. “That still doesn’t really clear anything up.” She watched Tom blink in confusion and stamped down the small part of her heart that fluttered stubbornly in her chest. 

She watched Tom rub the back of his neck with his left hand. “I saw the sign for the shop a few weeks back and was intrigued,” he started, eyes rising to hers. “I had been debating on whether it was a good idea for me to come after it opened when I ran into you at the gala.” His face flushed slightly. “After that I knew that I had to at least see…” He paused again and seeming to come to a decision, carried on. “I just…I missed you.” 

Rosemary didn’t bother to hide the shock and confusion that flooded over her. “You missed me?” She parroted back, trying to understand. “It’s been three years, Tom. Why now?” 

Tom nodded. “I know you asked me to stay away. And I understand why. I did my utmost best to respect that. But, yes, I have missed you. And seeing you again…it solidified that for me.” 

A thousand questions ricocheted through her mind. With great effort she settle on, “What do you want, Tom?” 

He smiled softly, “To be able to talk with you again. To call you when I’ve had a shit day or a great one or when I just want to hear your voice. There’s this saying, I guess you’d call it, that I heard recently and it struck me.” He paused, watching her face. “It pretty much goes that you have no idea how much you miss someone until something happens, good or ill, and the only person you want to tell is the one who’s not there. And it’s true. I want you in my life Rosemary, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.” His eyes were clear and cautiously hopeful. 

She stared at him in stunned disbelief. It was tempting, so very tempting. “Tom…” 

He nodded and offered a small, knowing smile of understanding. “I’m not asking for an answer now. But can you get promise me to think about it?” 

Rosemary hesitated, her eyes lowering to the counter. Could she do this? Should she? And if she didn’t would she honestly be okay with it? With a sigh, she nodded. “I can do that.” She paused, pulling a length of receipt tape from the cash register. In a quick, neat hand she wrote her number and handed it to Tom before she allowed herself to think better of it. His brows rose in confusion. “My number,” she clarified. If he could be bold, so could she. 

He smiled, tucking the number safely in his pocket. “Is it okay if I call you this week? Maybe we could meet for coffee or lunch?” 

Rosemary nodded. “I’d like that.” 

                                                          ___

  It took everything Rosemary had to keep herself from jumping each time the phone rang. She felt utterly ridiculous the way her heart would leap into her throat at the sound only to settle in disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t his. Pathetic, she chided herself. You are completely, ridiculously pathetic. 

Tom had promised to call but that had been nearly two weeks prior. A few days she could easily excuse. He was a busy man and time had a funny way of slipping away when you were busy. Maybe a week, given the right circumstances. But two weeks and nothing, not even a text? She was an idiot for even considering letting him back into her life. But that didn’t stop her from wishing he would call. That he would reach out. Something. 

Disgusted with both herself and the situation, she tossed her phone onto the coffee table and forced herself to focus on something, anything else. The knock at her door forced her heart heavily into her throat. 

“Sweet lord,” she murmured to herself, hand clutches tightly to her chest. With a laugh at her own skittishness, she pushed herself up from the couch and to the front door. 

The first thing she registered was the large bottle of wine clutched tightly in a well-manicured hand. “Wha…” she started. It took all of thirty seconds for her brain to register the smiling face behind the bottle. “Jules?” 

Jules rolled her eyes and pushed past Rosemary into the flat, shedding her coat as she went. “You’ve forgotten our standing date. I’m crushed.” 

Realization dawned. “It’s Thursday!” She shouted, feeling like a fool. “God, where is my head?” 

Jules snorted in laughter. “Obviously not attached. So…seeing as you completely forgot I was coming I doubt you’ve got food ready.” 

Hissing a curse, Rosemary shook her head. “Chinese?” She offered helpfully. 

“I guess that’ll do.” Jules wandered into the kitchen behind Rosemary, grabbing two wine glasses. Armed with both a menu and a corkscrew, Rosemary ushered her friend back into the living room. 

“General Tso’s?” She asked, grabbing her phone from the table. 

Jules nodded her assent and busied herself opening the wine bottle. Order placed, Rosemary took the offered wine glass and sipped gratefully. 

“So…Movie?” 

Jules smirked and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, switching on the flat screen television and cueing up Netflix. “Romantic comedy?” 

Rosemary groaned and settled further into the couch. “Only if it’s a truly terrible one and we take the piss out of it.” 

A grin lit up Jules’ warm face. “One cheesy romantic comedy coming up.”

                                                            ___

  The movie they settled on was truly terrible but the wine and running commentary made it almost bearable. “I cannot believe someone got paid to write this drivel,” Rosemary moaned as she picked through her sweet and sour pork. “I mean seriously, we are in the wrong line of work.” 

Jules lifted her glass. “Here, here!” 

Both women dissolved into fits of giggles. “You spill wine on my couch, young lady, and you’ll be sorry,” Rosemary admonished, placing her own glass onto the coffee table. Another round of giggles erupted between them. 

It took Rosemary several moments to register the ringing she assumed was coming from the television was in fact coming her phone that she’d left lying on the side table. She clumsily grabbed for the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had patience. She glanced at the phone, it was number she did not recognize. “Hello?” 

“Rosie?” 

The voice was familiar, Rosemary knew that she knew it but still she could not place it. “Yes…?” 

“Rosie, its Tom…Are you drunk?” There was amusement in his tone. 

She giggled. “Maybe...” Rosemary squinted, trying to think. Tom? Tom…Oh yes, Tom. I know Tom! “Tom!” she squealed into the phone, earning a glare from Jules. “Wait…” Her voice trailed off. There was something she was forgetting. “You said you’d call two weeks ago! You lied!” 

A sigh, “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“S’not good enough,” Rosemary protested. “You say you want to be part of my life and then disappear. That’s not acceptable.” From the corner of her eye she could see Jules’ eyebrow rise in increments. She held up her hand and waved it dismissively in her direction. She could not handle two simultaneous conversations at this point. 

“I know it’s not, Rosie. And if you can meet me for lunch tomorrow I can try to explain.” 

Rosemary creased her forehead in confusion. “Why can’t you explain now?” 

Tom sighed and she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “I could but something tells me that it would be lost on you at this point.” 

“Are you saying you think I can’t keep up?” Now she was indignant. 

“No, well yes. Rosie, you are slurring your words something fierce…” 

She shook her head, temporarily forgetting that he could not see her. “It’s not that bad. Just tell me Tom. Cause if you don’t I’m just going to assume the worst…” and it wasn’t a completely idle threat. 

“Work, Rose. I got called back for an insane amount of reshoots and I could barely keep myself straight let alone other people.” 

She snorted a laugh of derision. “And you couldn’t text me something to that effect because?” 

“I’m a shit person and got caught up in my own damn head. I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have called or at least texted. It’s just the more time that passed the harder it was to try to justify.” He was nearly tripping over his words now. 

In her inebriated state she could just barely keep up. Damn him. “Tom, I think you’re right. I don’t think I’m up for this kind of conversation right now. 

“Okay.” Tom paused and was silent for several moments. “Could we…I mean. Would you be able to meet me tomorrow for lunch or maybe dinner? To talk?” 

“Lunch,” Rosemary replied automatically. Dinner was decidedly not a good idea. Far too intimate for whatever is was they currently were. 

“Is Italian okay? I know a nice little café that does a fantastic lunch.” 

She gave her assent and quickly ended the call. The phone chimed moments later with the text Tom had promised of the location and time. She could feel Jules’s eyes on her but did not dare look over. She instead held up her hand in exasperation. “I know. But we are far too drunk for this kind of conversation…” 

“Nope. Not gonna happen, Rose, darling. Drunk is exactly how this kind of conversation needs to happen. So talk,” Jules ordered pouring more wine into each glass. 

Rosemary took the proffered glass and drank deeply, knowing she’d regret all of this come morning. “Fine,” she uttered. “Do your worst.”

Next Chapter

[exyjunkies]

14 + andreil? (“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”)

…………………………..

so i needed to write this plot bunny outta my damn mind

(and i liked this enough to post it on my ao3!!)

fic meme 1-100: andreil + 14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

send me a pairing (preferably from aftg/trc) and a number and i’ll write you a drabble (1-50) (51-100)

Andrew has often thought of how a clock, something built totell time, can fail at its very function the moment it’s set wrong. The thoughtwas unnerving, really, because it only strengthens the truth that time was oneof the many things that was out of anybody’s control.

One of the other things was change. The Columbia house, forall its glory and all the moments it’s lived through, cannot fight against thewishes of time. Though it did look like it tried to put up the best fight itcould possibly attempt. The windows, some slightly cracked and others difficultto open, merely provided glimpses into how much the structure has been through.The welcome mat had the letter O blacked out by ash, from theone time Nicky had set it on fire. The doorbell still worked, but the buttonwas long gone from its mechanism. The house paint was peeling off, and theplants around the side of the house were long gone.

It’s been almost three years since that day. Everyone Andrew knows has told him that this, what he wasdoing, wasn’t helping anyone move on with the natural course of things. Nothim. Not Neil.

Walking up to the house, Andrew wondered when he’ll everstop wanting to coming back.

He checked the time on his watch. 11:38 PM.

He doesn’t think twenty-two minutes will be enough to readyhimself for what was coming.

(Really, he doesn’t think any amount of time will ever beenough.)

The doorknob is cold and unsettling to the touch as ever.Andrew opened the door, and a wind blew in his face. He coughed because of thedust that got to his nose. A few seconds later, he heard the night cricketsoutside drift to a steady silence.

Nice job, Josten. Shaking his head, Andrew broughtout his flashlight, and shone a light throughout the dark house.

When they (Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky) had bought the Columbiahouse in their freshmen year, it was mostly empty, save for the appliances thatthe seller was generous enough to leave them. They acquired a microwave, ablender, and a pressure cooker (that none of them knew how to use until theirthird year). It was a really spacious house, which meant the three of them wasfree to fill it with whatever they deemed was necessary for each of theirsurvivals. Money was no object.

So Nicky was in charge of furnishing, while Aaron made tocall in men for the repairs, and Andrew shouldered costs and looked over wherethings were supposed to go. After three months of arguments and fussing about,it was done, and they had a place to stay whenever they needed to get away fromPalmetto State. They began bringing Kevin along a few weeks later. It was ateam effort to put the house together, that much Andrew knew.

Nicky and Aaron were not the least bit surprised, then, whenAndrew and Neil had ended up taking over the house later on. Nicky had a placewith Erik in Germany, and Aaron was in med school with Katelyn in anotherstate. This was around the time Neil had graduated and was well on his way to anoffer with the US Court, and Andrew was being bombarded with the same offerfrom the US Court that he had rejected the previous year. Andrew remembered walking into the living room and seeing Neil with both contract proposals fromthe Court’s recruitment team.

Leaning against the wall, he hadwaited until Neil noticed he was there at all.         

You’re not seriously judging me for going through job offers.Neil’s tone had been playful, a smirk on his face that was probably amused atAndrew’s glowering.

It’s more of an addiction for you, junkie.

It’s what’s keeping me alive. Sorry if this life is so addicting.

You know, if you needed someone to go with you and hold your hand,that’s not going to be me.

Yeah? At this, Neil had put the papers on their coffee table, stoodup, and walked over to where Andrew was standing. In the years that they hadknown each other, Andrew had not grown taller, but Neil had two inches added tohis height. The smile on his lips not withdrawing, he crossed his arms andlooked Andrew square in the face.

Then how are you going to stare at my ass from behind if you’re not inthe games with me?

Andrew remembered looking up atNeil’s face, unimpressed. Tell me onegood reason why I should go back to that game again.

You know the gig’s not half as bad as you make it out to be. ThenAndrew had glared, turned around, and walked away.

A few hours ago, both of them hadsigned with the US Court, and were set to start practices next week. Once theyhad both gotten the notification, Neil had looked and did his best not to burst outlaughing.

I am irresistible, he had declared, winking at Andrew.

One week, huh, Andrew had muttered, hoisting a laughing Neil up onhis arms and carrying him back to their bedroom. We shouldn’t waste any time then.

Andrew shone his flashlight aroundthe living room, the furniture in it now dusty and chipped. Their sofa still had that gash across the middle,and their pillows had almost all the stuffing falling out and frayed. Thetelevision set, once a flatscreen and of the highest quality, now couldn’t beswitched on or even plugged in. A circle of dustless surface was on the coffeetable, where the last ever coffee cup used to be. Andrew didn’t know if Neilhad taken the coffee cup off, or if someone had gone in to take it. Honestly,it didn’t really matter anymore.

To the side, their bookshelf wasstill crammed with books, half of which they never got to read together. Nearit was another shelf, which held framed photos and some souvenirs from thecountries they got to travel to. A mini Eiffel Tower, a golden cat that used towave its paw, a box of one red chopstick because they lost the other one. Atiny Mexican hat, from the first time they flew anywhere. Andrew surveyed thephotographs, looked at the all the faces. A family portrait, with him, Neil,and Sir Fat Cat and King Fluffkins. They had taken it intending for it to be aChristmas card, but Neil liked it so much he wanted it to be the family’s copyand theirs only. A picture of him and Aaron, arms around each other’sshoulders, taken by Neil himself. And beside it, a picture that Andrew hadtaken of Neil holding one of Dan and Matt’s kids, from when they babysat forthe couple.

Of the two of them, Neil had beenmore vocal about wanting kids, simply because Andrew was rarely ever outspokenabout anything. Andrew had it memorized – that look of want that Neil used tohave, whenever one of Dan’s kids would bring him something they had drawn orwhenever they wanted something from their kitchen. Neil had both been subtle(adoption flyers lying around the counter) and obvious (bringing it up whenthey were in bed, before they went to sleep). But what he didn’t know was thatit was a fleeting want between the both of them, something that never happenedonly because they were too busy with everything else.

Looking at his watch, Andrew sawthat he had seven minutes before midnight.

“You don’t mind if I’m a littleearly, do you?”

The voice had come a little tooclose behind him, but Andrew had learned to calm himself down. Neil never meantto scare him, even if his hair stood on end almost every time this happened.Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Inhale.Exhale. That’s it.

He turned around, and behind himwas Neil.

In his spiritual, yet mostcorporeal, form.

A ghost.

“You were always one forsurprises,” Andrew whispered, tightening his grip around his flashlight. Neillooked back at him, shrugging in the most Neil-like fashion.

Ever since Neil had become thisstate, he was always different. Sometimes, he was his cheery, annoying self,following Andrew around the house and talking his ear off. There have beentimes when he was an angrier, snappier version of himself, levitating objectsaround the house and throwing them against the walls. Most of the time though,Neil was merely a shell of himself, less responsive, drifting out of realityfrom time to time.

He liked it when Andrew came tovisit, which was twice or thrice a week. Always around midnight, and not formore than half an hour. Neil had explained, once before, that there wasn’t muchspiritual energy around their part of South Carolina for him to stay long.Andrew didn’t know much about the supernatural and ghosts and spirits, so hetook Neil’s word for it.

At the start, Neil being a ghosthad helped Andrew cope with his death, had helped him mourn the loss. The shockhad lasted quite a while, and then the anger came. Andrew was not proud of howhe handled himself.

It was a day like any other,specifically a day when Neil was home and Andrew was out, taking care of thegroceries. Between the both of them, no one knew that Lola Malcolm hadn’t beencaught by the FBI, and was instead on the lookout for Neil to seek her revenge.Andrew had come home to the struggle between Lola and Neil, and hell had brokenloose from there.

Andrew had succeeded in getting aknife through Lola’s head through her eye, but not until after she had shotNeil in the stomach. There was blood everywhere. And the hospital could only doso much that much blood loss. Andrew threatened as many doctors and nurses ashe could, but he couldn’t change what had happened. Neil was in a coma for agood eight months, before the doctors had the talk with Andrew regardingpulling the plug.

A voice had come up behind him, inthat hospital hallway, and whispered, “Letme go, Andrew. The machines are terrible. It hurts so, so much.”

It took Andrew another monthbefore he could agree to pull the plug. Wymack, Betsy, Abby, and the Foxes,both the old and the new, were there with Andrew, and that was that. No fancyfuneral. No televised news about Neil’s death. No articles in the newspapers,no interviews with the sports channels.

Just a cremation, a jar, andNeil’s ashes, sitting in one of the Columbia house’s cupboards.

It’s been almost three years sincethe accident. And a small part of Andrew was uneasy, if not scared, about Neilstill not being able to transition to the afterlife.

Three years.

Neil put his hand to Andrew’s arm,and Andrew shivered. He could feel the faintest sensation through his shirtsleeve. He saw Neil solidify a bit more and sigh in relief.

“I get the feeling that you havesomething to tell me that couldn’t wait.”

“We’ve got all the time in theworld, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Seventeen years of marriage doesn’thelp you become a better liar, dummy.”

Andrew gritted his teeth. Hefrowned at Neil. “Yeah, well, the real world doesn’t make me deal with thetruth any better, either.”

“And what has been happening in the real world?” Neil’s voice was lessinterested and more of a drone. As if it was draining him to push every singleword out. He went to sat down on their sofa, and continued, “Tell me a story.”

So Andrew told him. About Reneeand Emilio’s third son, who was born premature and had to stay in the incubatorfor a few weeks. About Allison and her fiancé, and their upcoming wedding inthe Bahamas. About Nicky and Erik visiting for Christmas this December. AboutAaron and Katelyn opening up a new private practice in the east. About Robin andher girlfriend, and how she had been coaching the Foxes for almost seven yearsnow. About Wymack in a plush and comfortable retirement home that just happensto adore Exy and him, so they had no problem with Kevin’s specifications. AboutDan and Matt starting an Exy Little League, and how it was going to be biggerthan they had anticipated. About how he and Kevin were still with the Court.

“But you know how I keep thinkingof,” Andrew broke off, inhaling a little shakily. He sat beside Neil. “Ofresigning. They have enough goalkeepers there anyway.”

Neil did a lifeless haha and replied, “Good luck. Last timeI joked about you leaving, Chief always said that wouldn’t happen. “Not on my watch, Josten.” With the gruffdisagreement and all. That kinda shit.”

“It doesn’t do anything for meanymore.”

Which was true. Financially, Andrew was set for (what he believedwere) the remaining years of his life, and he still had some of his fortune fromhis teenage years to add to his Court savings. He didn’t really care much forthe Exy celebrity life, and he only had a few friends in the sports industryand even less of a desire to make more. On top of that, the only reason why hewas still with the Court was because of Kevin, who was still a little abovetwenty-five years or so from retirement. Kevin was convinced that he and Andrewwould be together on the team until then.

Every single day with the team andplaying Exy served to be a reminder to Andrew about just how much Neil livedfor the sport. They had played games with one off the court, but when they wereboth on the court together, they were a force to be reckoned with. Eventually,everyone had ended up looking forward to the games that had the both of them onthe lineup.

Now that Neil was gone… well.Andrew could still close off the goal when the team needed it, but even theleast invested fan could see that games against the US National Team were lessexciting now. It was something no one dared to speak of.

“Well, you know I wouldn’t mind ifyou did,” Neil said, leaning back and closing his eyes. Or at least that’s whatit looked like to Andrew. “Resign, I mean.”

They sat in silence for a longtime after that, Andrew and his arm on the couch’s arm rest, and Neil sittingback on the couch. It was never an uncomfortable silence, that much they bothhad to be thankful for. From time to time, Andrew looked over and watched Neildo his best to materialize, take as much energy as he could from the ground,sometimes from Andrew. But then Andrew knew Neil always felt bad about tiringhim out, so the touches were subtle. Andrew didn’t want to admit that it wasmore draining that he let out.

Besides, if it meant that he couldsee Neil a little better, then Andrew would hold onto Neil himself – if Neilwouldn’t violently lash out and throw Andrew off of him.

“Ugh, we never really got thishouse to look the way it should,” Neil suddenly said, his eyes darting aroundthe room. Andrew snapped out of his thoughts.

“Your eye for real estate ischarming, junkie.”

“Shut up. This place was a dumpbefore I got here.”

Andrew felt his mouth twitch up abit at that, and he saw Neil laughing quietly. For a bit, he looked almost… alive.

“Yeah,” he murmured, shiftingcloser. “You were a real lifesaver.”

Neil looked Andrew in the eyes,and smiled.

Then, as if a spell broke, he suddenlyclosed his eyes and groaned slightly. “Ugh.”

“What?” Andrew was alert, a bit ofpanic rising in him. “Anything I could do?”

“No, I just,” Neil stopped, facingaway from Andrew. After a beat, he spoke up again.

“This always happens. I hate it.”

“What does?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’tknow,” Neil scolded, a little sadly. “Me wanting to hold your hand, or mewanting to kiss you, and then remembering that— that I’m just… this.”

And here I was, about to tell him that he has to move on. “Neil, pleasedon’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” Neil snapped, standing up suddenly, making his form waver abit. Andrew was starting to feel his own anger too. It was anger not at Neil,but at the situation that led to this. He did his best to keep it down and puttwo fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t… ugh— don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Neil looked down at him, a littleconfused. Then, understanding showed on his face, along with a very pissy mood.

“Oh. Okay. I see how it is.”

In all the years that they’ve beenmarried, they’ve had their fights, and they’ve each had their share of faults.After everything though, they always, alwaysmade it a point to resolve their issues. This was because of the two of them,Neil was the one that hated going to sleep with something wrong between them.

Still, they were human, so nothingwas as perfect as how the movies almost always made everything out to be.Andrew tended to be unresponsive a lot of the time, because he didn’t believein wasting a single breath on useless things, and Neil always had some smartremark prepared to everything because he liked being the last say, socompromises were only arrived at after a lotof work.

So of course, this meant thingsalways had to get messy before they get fixed.

“Neil,” Andrew began, standing upand taking a few steps away from Neil. “You know it’s been far too long. It’sunnatural.”

“So is being murdered at the ageof 46, Andrew!” Neil yelled, theground shaking a little, just because he can make it shake. “This is so unfair.I’m not fucking ready.”

“And no one ever is,” Andrew replied,stepping forward slowly. It was so hard to keep himself composed, but he knewhe had to do it. “But I’m telling you now. You’re not doing yourself any favorsby staying here.”

“Wow, now you’re telling me about what’s best for me. Well, news-fucking-flash, Andrew Minyard. Ithink I can handle myself.”

“No, you can’t! If you can, you would’ve been gone from this place a longdamn time ago. You know I’m making sense. You’renot human anymore, Josten. You have to fucking accept that.”

“And what about you, huh? What is it about methat keeps you coming back? I’m ‘not human anymore’? Fine. Then why do you keep going here, at the crack-of-God’s-ass‘o clock, visiting me?”

“Because I care about you, idiot. Don’t you think it hurts me to see you likethis, too?”

“Oh, boo-freaking-hoo, Andrew Minyard is still alive, getme a tissue.”

Andrew exhaled, getting the rageout of his system before he did anything drastic. Crossing his arms, he saidthe one thing that’s been on his mind ever since he got there.

“So if I went and offed myself.Would that help?”

Neil, as always, doesn’t properlylisten when he’s in the heat of the moment. “If you— what?”

Clearing his throat, Andrew repeatedhimself.

“If I died. Passed away. Left thislife. Etcetera etcetera. Would you finally move on to the afterlife?”

“You’re being ridiculous. Wheredid you get that dumb idea? It’s not that easy.”

“Then what, for God’s sake, wouldmake it easy—”

“Nothing, Andrew! Don’t youfucking understand?”

Neil’s outburst was so strong thata wind blew through the house, and every door in the house began openning andslamming back shut. Andrew was taken aback. The pressure in the room was sostrong, and the doors were so loud.He shut his eyes and took a few more breaths to steady himself. Anger and fearwas not the greatest combination to deal with.

Easy, Minyard.

After calming down himself, Neilshook his head.

“Don’t you get it?” He startedagain, less harshly this time. “My entire childhood, I never got to make anypart of it mine. It was always, new nickname this time around, or new state thenext month, or new house to break into later on. Mom died, and I had to livewith her voice of disappointment wherever I went. It was absolutely miserable. Andthen I came across Exy, which gave me the chance to take a small part of itback. For myself.

“And then the Foxes came along,and. And you guys were everything.Not from the start, no. At the start, a lot of you were major assholes,” Atthis, Andrew nodded in agreement, and Neil continued, “But then you guys becamefamily. And every game that Palmetto State got me to, gave me even more andmore reasons to keep going. Wymack was, sort of, the father I never knew Ineeded. And somewhere along the way, I saw you in a way that I never saw anyoneelse before, and, well, I guess the rest was history.

“I finally, finally had the life Iwanted. And I had that life to share with you. It wasn’t perfect, and it suretook some work getting there, what with my father and the Moriyamas and all,but I made it. I was myself. And I hadthat going for me for a long time. Seventeen years with you was wonderful. ButI knew I wanted the lifetime package. But then Lola came that day, and… andtook it all away. Just when I was just getting ready for the long haul.”

Neil sat back down, leaving Andrewabsolutely speechless. This was a side of Neil that he has never heard before.A lot of things were going on in his mind right now, and none of them was theright thing to say in this situation.

“Do you know what I was doing thatday, Andrew?” Neil continued, not looking up at him. “Because I do. I stillfucking remember. I was about to put in a call for this house I wanted, justoutside of South Carolina. Somewhere in Pontiac. Matt told me about a reallygood deal by a friend of his, so I went to check the house out a couple weeksback. I was going to say yes to the realtor and put in the first payment. Itwas going to be a surprise.”

Sitting back down carefully,Andrew made sure to look at Neil this time, listening to everything he had tosay. He put his hand on top of Neil’s spirit one, watching Neil’s materializedface shed a tear.

“Shit,” Andrew whispered. He hated seeing Neil cry. “I never knew.”

“Yeah,” Neil sniffled, putting hishand to his face and wiping off a tear. “It’s because I did my best to keep thesecret this time around.”

And they stayed like that, staringinto each other’s eyes, for a little bit longer. Andrew could only hear hisheartbeat, the crickets outside, and Neil’s labored breathing, from his entiredialogue earlier.

“Andrew,” Neil murmured. “I’mscared.”

Gritting his teeth, Andrewreplied, “I am too. It was hell tolose you the first time. But this is something you have to do.” After a beat,he added, “It’ll get easier.”

When Neil didn’t reply, Andrew puthis lips to where he saw Neil’s cheek was, and kissed. Andrew didn’t feelanything, but Neil let out a humorless chuckle.

“Thanks for trying, asshat,” hesaid, and Andrew knew they were okay again. He didn’t really know what to saynext, so he only nodded. Neil inhaled, exhaled, and clenched both his fists.

“Fine. I’ll stop being a ghoststuck in the past,” Neil said, and stood up. He rolled his shoulders back, andstretched his neck. “The afterlife can’t be thatbad.”

“If you get sent to hell, please reserve my slot.”

“You know there’s one with your name on it already.”

They could sit there and jokeabout it for another hour, and it still wouldn’t make the goodbye any better. Neilwas off staring at absolutely nothing, like he was trying to find the words tomake it easier. Andrew knew this, so he stood up with Neil, staring into thesame nothingness.

“Hey,” Neil said, after anotherlong, quiet minute. “I’m with you, okay?”

Andrew thought about how a clockcan fail to tell time the moment it was set wrong. It was a fact of life thathe used to be frustrated with, because he had wanted to go back and change thepast. He had wished he did things differently, sway the odds in his favor. Dothe groceries the previous day instead. Get home a little earlier. Kill Lolabefore she got to shoot Neil.

But now, Andrew knew that he neededto stop playing god. Every single thing in the universe was going to come andgo, no matter what anyone did, and nobody could change that.

What made everything morebearable, Andrew knew, was the people that he went through time with.

“Always,” he replied, looking atNeil one last time. He couldn’t believe this was going to be the last time. Thetightness in his chest was enough to stop him from breathing.

It was almost like he was losingNeil all over again.

Neil smiled sadly at Andrew,almost as if he was trying to hold back more tears.

Then, he looked up, and he wasgone. And for the first time since he had bought the house, Andrew was on hisown.

For the first time, Andrew wasalone.

[collateralfiction]

23

Adrian

My eyes immediately shrunk due to the amount of brightness pouring inside of the room. If it wasn’t the sunshine irritating me, it was my phone that seemed to be ringing for the past hour nonstop. Reaching for my jeans off the floor, I slipped my iPhone out of my jeans and looked at the brightly lit screen. It was simply just my alarm going off so I dismissed it and placed my phone away from me, so I could resume sleeping. The thought of sleep seemed perfect but once I looked at the clock and noticed it was nearing fairly close to eleven in the morning, I knew I had to get up and do something. I couldn’t sit around like this knowing there was shit to do. Swinging my legs off the messy bed, I stood and stretched, cracking a few bones in the process. I turned to look over my shoulder and smirked upon seeing Bailey’s half naked body. We probably didn’t get in till three this morning and I know for a fact Bailey and I didn’t fall asleep until after five. She had to have this birthday dick before she tapped out.

She was a wild ass sleeper, that’s for sure. Cuddling was the only remedy to control her movements. She was turned over on her stomach with her ass sticking out and her hair sprawled out across the white and black pillows. Shaking my head, I trekked towards the bathroom and handled my business at the toilet. I washed my hands thoroughly before brushing my teeth and washing my face as well. Reemerging from the bathroom, Bailey was still knocked out. I give her another thirty minutes to rest. I had plans today for everyone and I didn’t spend about 25 grand just for it to go to waste. I looked through one of my duffel bags, pulling out a black tee, slipping it over my head before leaving the room altogether.

We had a hired chef for the week’s stay and every morning by ten thirty, an arrangement of food would be placed outside, waiting for us to devour. This morning was no different as plates of fruits, waffles, pancakes, sausages and bacon strips were set out for us with a jug of Apple and Orange juice. It was no surprise that Justine was one of the few that was up early; she was always like that. “Morning,” I mumbled, taking a seat on the opposite chair as her. She briefly looked at me and continued to pick at what was left on her plate which wasn’t much. “I said morning,” I stated again, grabbing a plate and beginning to fill it with what I wanted.

“And I heard you,” she gritted.

“Fuck is your problem?” I stated, dropping the plate back on the table, creating a loud thud.

“Nothing,” she stated sternly. “I’m just tired,”

“So why you not in bed sleep?” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m not sleepy,” My face twisted into a scowl at her two contradicting statements. None of that shit was making sense and I wasn’t about to run around in circles to understand it if she was going to act like this with me right now. It was either you tell me what’s wrong now or walk around pissed ‘cause your ass wants to be stubborn as fuck.

“Alright, so don’t complain then,” I grumbled, going to fix my plate one last time. It looked like she had something on her mind but how would I know if she didn’t speak up? I wasn’t going to force her to speak up on something she didn’t want to talk about to begin with. However, it didn’t stop me from picking up on her strange ass behavior. Justine is very transparent so it’s easy to tell when something isn’t sitting right with her but it’s difficult to figure out exactly what’s wrong with her. It takes way more than a few simple questions. Sucking her teeth, she grabbed her plate and empty glass and stormed towards the kitchen. “If that was your way of getting away from me, you failed,” I chuckled. “You might as well come back and eat at the table,”

“No thank you,”

“Alright,” I nodded. “Be like that,” Which probably won’t be long. For the first ten minutes of me eating my plate of food was enclosed with silence. But just like I predicted, Justine was right back in front of me, starting up a conversation as if she wasn’t acting suspicious a minute ago.

“How was Bailey’s birthday last night?”

I smirked, licking my lips. “It was cool. She had fun,”

“Yeah, I could tell. You guys came in pretty late and then had the nerve to go to sleep late,” she said, giving me that knowing look. “Nasty,”

“I know,” I chuckled. “I would do it again if I ain’t have eavesdroppers,”

“Ugh, can you not?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“I guess. So, what’s up with you? Why you acting sus?” I said bluntly. There wasn’t any way I was going to let her leave out of my eyesight without her telling me something.

“Am I really?” she questioned.

“Yeah, nigga,” I muttered, grabbing my glass of OJ. She rolled her eyes yet again before leaning back in the chair and crossing her arms over her chest. Regardless if she wasn’t acting strange or whatnot, I would still have a few questions in store for her to begin with. I took a few sips before hearing the sound of feet in the near distance. Turning my head around a bit, I saw Austin approach the table while rubbing his eyes. That officially ended the conversation before it even started but that didn’t mean I was going to let it drop either. While everyone thinks they’re on vacation, I’m certainly not. I still got shit to do and it’s going to get handled. I don’t give a fuck if I have to rain on everyone’s parade. “Ay, what’s up, lil nigga?” I greeted, extending my hand out for a dap.

“Seriously, Adrian? Watch your language around him,” Justine said, pointing her fork at me.

“Chill,” I said. “He ain’t picking up on it like that. Chillax,”

“Morning, ma,” Austin greeted, heading around the table to give Justine a hug. Without the help of a nigga around to help groom Austin to be a great man one day, Justine has been doing pretty well so far and I will never discredit her for that. Although half the thing she does I don’t particularly agree with, how she raises Austin is one thing I can certainly say she does well on 100%. They hugged and did all that motherly and son shit before Austin sat down and decided to grab the stack of Bacon to munch on.

“He still taking his medicine?” I questioned.

“It’s no longer required so naw,”

“That’s dope,” I smiled.

“Yeah, it is. He hated the medicine with a passion. I don’t blame him,”

“Me either,”

“I’ll be back,” Justine said, grabbing her plate and treading into the kitchen. I acknowledged her with a simple head nod before she left off, leaving Austin and I at the table still.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” Austin yawned shortly after.

“You sure?” I asked sternly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where’s Bailey?” he asked.

“She’s still asleep. After breakfast I want you to pack some of your clothes for an overnight stay,”

“Why?”

“You ask too many questions,” I chuckled. “We yachting out in this bitch,”

“That big boat we saw?”

“Yeah, the one you can live in. That’s my birthday gift to Bailey,” An expensive ass gift too.

“That’s not fair. She’s going to like your gift more than mine,” he frowned.

“Tough luck, kid,” I laughed.

“Here, Austin,” Justine placed down his plate and left the dining area all over again. It was a good feeling knowing that Austin was where he belongs, but it still tore me up knowing that at one point no one knew where he was at. No matter how much I try to justify certain shit, it always fell back on me and what I should have been doing versus what I was doing. Regardless, I know for a fact that something fishy had to occur and the two main targets are Lonnie and Ryan. I’m close but not nearly as close as I want to be. That shit is all about to change though. My primary agenda would be talking to Bailey, of course, and possibly having a conversation with Justine if she allows it. If Bailey is going to go back to her life, I need to be frank with her and let her know that Ryan got another bitch pregnant. I don’t know how well that’s going to go over with her, but it needs to be done. After that, I’m going to need to call G back in New York, so I know what to expect. Besides all of that shit, I just need someone I can lay all this info on because it’s eating me up that I only know.

“You know what I noticed, Uncle A?” Austin said, bringing me out of my thoughts. I gave him my full attention, so he knew that I was listening. “Your father isn’t around, and neither is mine,” Austin’s statement caught me off guard and for a second I was unsure of what he meant by that and where’d it come from. I paused as I stared at him with my eyebrows meshed together. It was almost as if what he said was nothing big of a deal. I don’t talk to Austin about his father and he doesn’t talk to me about his nonexistent father either. Where this is coming from all of a sudden, at this moment right now? It’s only leading me to Justine. I just stared at him for the longest, not completely believing that he had said that and how he easily returned to snacking on his plate of food while I had to digest something, I would have never thought I hear from him until he was well in his late teens.

“Yeah, something like that,” I said, clearing my throat. “Why you say that though?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Just something I noticed,”

“You feel good about that?” I was at a loss of words to say the least, but I was also intrigued in what possibly was on his mind at the same time. Austin is a smart seven-year old child and I’m pretty sure he’s aware of everything that goes on around him, even half the shit I do. It’s not rocket science for him to realize his father isn’t around, but I wasn’t expecting to hear him talk about it either. I don’t know but him saying that just made things more complicated, at least in my head.

“I don’t care,” he said nonchalantly. My eyes widened at his bold statement. This didn’t seem like the same caring Austin I know him to be. Although I can’t lie and say that I’m not happy knowing that he doesn’t give a fuck about his father but it’s not the right thing for me to verbally say to him. The least I want him to do is have his own feelings towards whoever without me swaying his own ideas. Either way, it got me fucked up now.

Rubbing my temple, I said, “Don’t say that,” I sighed, saying words I never thought I would. “Look at me, Austin. I’m deadass. Don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re saying right now. Shit, why are you saying that?”

“I don’t know. It’s true. I haven’t seen my dad in a long time. He doesn’t care, I don’t care. That’s good, right?” I was in pure shock. I don’t even know how to end this conversation. “I have my mother, you, Caiden, Justin, Brian, August, G, my grandmother and even Bailey,” he went on to list.

“Did you talk to your mother about this?” I found myself asking.

“Kind of,” I nodded slowly, locking my hands together.

“We gon’ finish this conversation later, alright? Just know that we all got you even if your pops isn’t around, you hear me?”

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled.

“Alright, hurry up and eat,” I said, standing tall and grabbing my plate. “And eat them carrots your mom put on your plate!” I yelled. His laughter soon followed after that. I placed my plate in the sink and ran some water over it before leaving the kitchen. I had half the mind to go and see what was up with Justine and where Austin had got this random epiphany of basically saying fuck his father, he ain’t shit mentality. A part of me couldn’t fathom Justine putting that type of idea in her son’s head so where else he might have gotten that from… I’m not too sure. Maybe it was me. The other half of me didn’t feel like saying anything to her, not at the moment anyhow. Austin really fucked with my head too early in the morning.

Shaking my head, I headed back into my bedroom and softly closed the door behind me. Bailey was no longer lying in bed and from hearing running bath water, I automatically assumed that where she was at. Slipping inside the bathroom door, I found myself staring at her voluptuous body behind the clear shower glass. Her body was turned away from me, standing in the direction of the steaming water. She was leaning against the wall and from her posture, I could sense how she was still sleepy and probably still a bit tipsy. She still looked fine as fuck though. Stripping out of my clothes, I pushed the sliding glass open a bit and walked up behind her, gently wrapping my arms around her slim waist.

“Ugh, why do you do that, Adrian?” she groaned, relaxing in my arms. I turned her around to face me and she easily wrapped her arms around me, laying her head against my chest.

“’Cause I can,” I chuckled.

“Same reason as why you’re hard, huh?” she said, kissing along my neck.

“Yeah, you gon’ take care of it?” I said huskily. Dropping her arms from around my neck, she pressed her lips against mine, enveloping me into a deep kiss. Her small, warm hands trickled down my abdomen until she wrapped her fingers around my semi-hard dick, slowly moving her fingertips along the length of it. “Shit,” I hissed, staring down at her with hazy eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her grip on me tightened as she increased her pace. I bit my bottom lip, not wanting to give her the satisfaction that her simple hand job was doing wonders to me. But being that Bailey likes to outcompete a nigga, she was going to test me until I gave in.

With a mischievous grin, she got on her knees and directed my throbbing dick into her mouth. My hands immediately went to the back of her head, my fingers becoming entangled in her hair. All through the different girls I’ve ran through, minus the exception of one, Bailey is the only one who I go out of my way when it comes to sexual shit. I rarely go down on a bitch if it ain’t my bitch, I usually don’t give a fuck if they cum or not because it’s about mine. But with Bailey, everything I do comes natural for her. I don’t think twice if I’m giving her head or whatever. Everyone else, my mind is already made up by the time I have them on their knees, ready to suck me off.

“Just like that,” I grunted in a labored breath. Her lips wrapped around my tip, licking the pre-cum off before enveloping the whole thing in her mouth; essentially deep throating me. Shit had me in bliss. She wasn’t sloppy and she wasn’t gagging either; Bailey’s a perfect ten. Her hand rubbed at my balls bringing me closer towards my peak. I got a handful of her hair, pushing her mouth further on my swollen dick. My head leaned back against the granite wall with my mouth slightly agape while she continued to bob her head at an even pace, much quicker than before. She had me in the palm of her hand and before I knew it, I was bussing all down her throat. She fucking swallowed. “Damn,” I grunted, watching as she stood under the water. “So fucking sexy,”

She smiled, pulling me closer to her. “Your turn,”

__

“Welcome to Carpe Diem, one of Turks and Caicos most elite yachts!” The head manager in charge spoke as we all crowded around the deck, staring up at the rather large and tall boat. “Everything you want will be provided, any service, we most certainly have. Your stay for the next 48 hours should live up to the hype you most certainly have heard. There are waterskis, kayaks, four massage room, yoga and dance room, gym, two saunas and an indoor pool. All your needs will be met regardless of any issue you think you might have. Please enjoy your stay at Carpe Diem,” Definitely didn’t have to tell me twice. Being that everyone knew about these plans in advance, Bailey was the only one with a shocked facial expression as she turned around and looked at me.

“What?” I chuckled.

“You did not mention the surprise being this,” she said, standing in place which caused everyone to walk around us.

“I didn’t have to. Happy belated,” I laughed. “It’s all for you and if I were you, I would hurry my ass on the boat before Justine picks the best room,”

“Aw, is your heart melting? Do you feel like you’re about to die?” she teased.

“Hell yeah, nigga,” I chuckled. Laughing along with me, she kissed the side of my mouth and headed towards the opening of the boat. I followed suit, giving a firm handshake to the man who was speaking moments prior. When Austin and I was looking for presents for Bailey’s birthday, I didn’t feel like buying her any materialistic shit, so I opted for a yacht in which everyone could benefit, and I could also one up my lil homie, Austin. Looking around at the yacht, I nodded my head in approval at the décor. For 25 grand, this yacht has no choice but to be less than perfect. Approaching Caiden, I tapped his shoulder in which caught his attention.

“Wassup?”

“When everyone is ready to doze off, we all need to talk for a second, a’ight?” I muttered.

“Yeah, no doubt. Can’t be all fun and no work,” he chuckled, rubbing his chin. “For now, I’m finna unpack and check out the rest of this shit. You must be sprung if you’re spending all this dough on her,”

“Sprung? You must be out your mind,” I said, shoving him playfully. “Fuck up,” I sat down at the barand grabbed one of the glasses of alcohol. I placed it under my nose to see what it was and took a sip once I noticed it was just Vodka. Everyone around me seemed to be basking in the moment of being on this yacht but I couldn’t enjoy it just yet. I haven’t been anyhow for the last couple of months so that wasn’t anything new. I quickly finished off my drink and ran my hand down my face. In the pocket of my shorts was a white envelope that I was going to give to Bailey tonight or whenever the mood strikes. Three simple words on a bland piece of card seemed to be weighing heavy on my mind and I wasn’t sure if what I was doing was the smartest, but I could no longer put off doing certain shit for the sake of Bailey’s feelings; she’s going to have to find out one day or another, why not now?

Then I had to deal with Justine and her son’s declaration this morning. Too much fucking shit. “Why you drinking so early? It’s only three,” Bailey purred, wrapping her arms around me from behind.

“You think I care what time it is?”

“I know you don’t. What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting down in the seat beside me.

“I’ll tell you later tonight. You like the yacht?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“It’s so beautiful! Come so I can show you our room,” she said excitedly, grabbing my hand.

“Hol’ up,” I grabbed another glass of Vodka and handed her one before taking one for myself. Following her lead as she dragged me around the boat, my vision stayed on her ass the entire time as she decided that she wanted to wear shorts. She looked good, no doubt, but that shit was distracting as hell.

“Look!” she squealed. “It’s gorgeous and so spacious,”

“You do know we’ll probably be everywhere but here, right?” I smirked.

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning around to face me.

“The boat is too big to make it to this room. You’ll end up somewhere else before you get here. Promise you that,”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” she said, playfully rolling her eyes. Her eyes fell on the white envelope that was in my hand. “What’s that?”

“An envelope,”

“For real, Adrian,”

“Look at this later. Not right now, okay?”

“Why? Is there something I should be afraid of in here?” she chuckled, grasping the thin envelope in her hand. She stared at it as if the words that were in the inside of the card would magically appear outside. But as far as there being something that just might make her afraid, I doubt it. But, it will catch her off guard. However she reacts is up to her but anything else, that’s up in the air. I’m counting on August to man up and tell her what the situation with Riley was too, but I have a feeling that’s going to backfire. Not on August, on me.

“Naw, just read it later,” I stated.

“Okay,” she nodded.

Licking my lips, I stared down at her and she looked back up at me with a faint grin. It was crazy to me how someone you barely knew could come into your life and have such a strange impact on your life. I’m not saying that Bailey has changed me or some shit because that has to come from me and willingly, but she has changed shit along the way. Things were supposed to be strictly business between us and it could have been that way because I do have self-control, but I don’t know what happened this time around. It’s not a good feeling because it makes me feel like I’m off my game and no one should be able to throw me off my game like that. I had something on my mind that I wanted to speak about at the moment, but it wasn’t the right time. She looked like she was really enjoying herself and I didn’t want to be the one to end that for her. “Boat will depart in exactly an hour,” said a crew member from the loud speaker.

“Ooh, I’m so excited!” she squealed, brushing past me to join everyone else.

Bailey

It was absolutely beautiful sailing the ocean that boarded the small island. I was accustomed to traveling quite frequently since it would be my father’s go to resort when all options seemed to lack in certain departments. It was something about being far away from your troubles that brought peace to me, oddly enough. The ocean was such a beautiful hue of blue and the slight breeze around my body was just right. It was close to seven in the evening and we had been sailing for some time now along Grand Turk. I sat with a glass of White Wine in my possession near the rear end of the boat. Everyone was pretty much spaced out along the boat and really had their own quarter of space to be in. Well, except the guys. They were all huddled in one of the many tableson the bottom yacht last time I saw them and it seemed like they were discussing something urgent because no one seemed to return the small smile I had given them in passing. Well!

Grabbing the blanket that was near, I wrapped it around my body and curled up into a fetal position. My head rested against the closest pillow and I sighed deeply, having thoughts of my family back home surface in my head. At least once a day I would have thoughts and most of the time, I wouldn’t have anyone to talk about it to because I automatically assumed they wouldn’t understand as much as I would have liked them to. Why? How can you exactly sympathize with someone who has been kidnapped by your doing? The only person that probably doesn’t know the circumstance is Austin and there’s no way I can vent to a seven-year old about a predicament this large. It’ll go right over his head.

I miss the normalcy that my life gave me, despite what I’m surrounded around by force. If I wanted to, I could easily evade it and do something to distract myself. While being in the presence of Adrian, you really can’t and it’s not even like it’s by chose, it just happens. I miss my mother, that’s without a doubt. Even with me being closer to my father than my mother, I still miss her and her easy-going vibe. I miss Rayne too but a part of me feels like she’s doing something wrong. Out of the two of us, she’s probably the one that needs to be watched out the most. I miss Chance. He was my other half. We fit like a puzzle and had the same mindset, so it was easy for us to click. I don’t know what he could possibly be doing at this point, but I hope it’s something productive since the last time I seen him.

And then there’s Ryan. Do I miss him? Sadly, yes. I feel stupid for missing him but for him, it’s a different type of ‘I miss you’ than what everyone else gets. Ryan was better off being a friend than anything more, quite honestly. Relationships just might not be his forte and that’s alright; I just wish I knew that beforehand. Huffing, I placed my drink back on the table and begin to stand and head back in. I liked to be by my lonesome, but some company right about now wouldn’t be that bad. Shuffling inside, I headed up the stairs and towards the kitchen to set my glass away.

We had crew members on the ship and they were spread around the entire yacht, catering to our needs. Having a personal crew on board definitely came with its perks. Grabbing the platter of strawberry off the counter, I looked in the stocked fridge and pulled out the whipped cream and began my ascent along the yacht. I had no particular destination in mind, but I figure I walk around until I bump into someone. Hearing commotion from the next roomover, I stuck my head inside the room and notice Justine and Austin. It seemed like such a cute mother-son moment that I didn’t want to interrupt but it was too late because Austin had already spotted me and asked that I come in.

“Oh, okay,” I laughed. “It’s so difficult finding everyone,” I pouted, sitting beside Justine

“I know,” she agreed. “I have to look at the camera to find out where everyone is,”

“There’s cameras?!” I gasped. It brought me back to the time when I found out that Adrian had a camera chilling in my room. Actually, he admitted that he had a camera located in my room so nonchalantly one day. I didn’t believe him at first until he showed me his desktop computer and the monitor of my room being displayed. I didn’t even know how to react when I found out quite honestly. If I recalled correctly, I laughed and called him a pervert which in return, he acknowledged that he was a perv with a chuckle.

“Yep! All over. But most of the cameras are in the main room. The monitor is right over there,” she pointed. I squeezed some of the whip cream down on my strawberries before I picked one out and bit into it. They’re so fucking good.

“Do you feel any better from yesterday?” I asked, referring to her behavior. She sighed, running her hands through Austin’s soft hair. He was too invested in watching Toy Story 3 to notice anything subtle.

“Not really,” she frowned.

“What’s wrong then?” I said, hoping that this time she would actually say something this time around.

“Not around, Aussie,” she mouthed. My shoulders slumped forward, and I relaxed back into the soft couch. We sat in silence for a total of thirty minutes and every now and then I could see the disgruntled facial expression she would make but, yet she didn’t want to talk about it at all with me. I did understand how she might not want to talk about everything that bothers her right then and there, but I didn’t understand why she rather hold it in when I was more than willing to listen to her rant. I don’t know. Maybe I was digging into this too much, but it did hurt my feelings knowing that she couldn’t confide in me – the only girl here.

“What y’all doing in here?! Meditating or some shit? Why so quiet?” Adrian asked, barging into the room.

“Shh, Austin is sleep,” Justine shushed him.

“Yeah, that’s what he wants y’all to think,” he mumbled, walking towards the couch. I reached over the table, getting ready to grab the last strawberry, knowing that he eying it just a few seconds ago. Just when I thought I had it, he grabbed it from my grasp and bit in to it. My face immediately turned into a scowl as he grinned while finishing off the juicy fruit. “Com’ere,” he called, licking his lips slowly, purposely.

“Can I get a please?” I huffed, standing up anyhow.

“Not when you obey me like that,” he chuckled.

“Don’t make me snuff you, nigga,” I grumbled, walking beside him. He threw his arm around me and led us back outside to where I was trying to get away from. But the warmth from his body was more than enough. I figure he was leading us away from everyone to finally have this conversation that’s been bothering him ever since we got on this yacht. He was a lot tenser and I’m one for picking up on body language and I definitely noticed it by the way he was walking around here. He led me somewhere completely different from where I was once aware of to another private sectionof the yacht. “This boat is entirely too big,” I mumbled.

“I like it like that. I get claustrophobic,” he admitted.

“And you expect me to believe that?” I giggled, sitting down on his lap.

“Bitch, better believe it!” he exclaimed.

“Alright, cut that shit out. I won’t hesitate to punch you in your face and dick,” I said to which he chuckled at. But I was dead serious. Rolling my eyes, I watched him lean over and grab a tray that I had just now noticed was here this whole time. What might be on the tray you ask? Weed. However, I wasn’t going to throw a tantrum about it. I can’t control everybody’s behavior and besides, he looked like he really needed it. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Talk to me,”

“Everything,” he mumbled, lightening the joint before putting it to his mouth.

“I’m all ears,” I expressed.

“Shit, where do I begin, girl?” he shook his head lightly and took a pull from the potent blunt. “I’ll start with this morning. This morning I’m having breakfast with Justine, right? We’re eating and I peep shit. Something not right with her so I basically call her out on it. I’m usually a good judge of character and I’m trying to get information out of her and see what’s up. You know, be that loving brother. But she acting sus and if she continues to act like that, I‘m going to call her out on it and put her on blast. I don’t like that fake shit and it’s irritating me that she been trying to hide shit,”

“So, you’ve noticed it too?” I murmured.

“What you mean?”

“She was acting strange since last night,” I frowned. “Do you think something is going on with her?” I whispered, assuming the worst automatically. I’m not pessimistic but it’s the reality of the situation and what comes with this lifestyle. He stared at me for the longest, probably mulling over what I just said and the possibilities. “Trouble?”

“Naw,” he stated. “She would tell me if something is wrong. I expect her to do that much,” he gritted.

“I don’t know, Adrian. What if she’s afraid, maybe?”

“I’m giving her till tomorrow morning to open her mouth and say some shit. I shouldn’t have to guess around her and she also shouldn’t be afraid to open her mouth if it involves some serious shit. If I find out any other way, I’m going to be pissed,”

“Okay and that’s understandable. Just give her some time, don’t jump to conclusions,” I tried to soothe, the smell of marijuana circulating around us. With how much pre-rolled blunts he has set out, I’d assume that he had plans of smoking all night. I rubbed his shoulders gently because I could clearly see his frustration. “For someone who always seems to be in my business and got a fucking say in what I do, why she not trying to talk now?”

“Patience, Adrian,” I told him, rubbing his shoulders a little rougher. “What else is on your mind?”

“Austin, man,” He blew out the smoke from the side of his mouth. “Although I don’t want to believe it, I think he misses his pops,” My hand movement immediately stopped, and my heart felt like it was plummeting inside my chest. Even with me acknowledging the fact that Lonnie isn’t shit, I couldn’t help but feel for Austin, especially since I’m in a similar situation as him. My father isn’t around, his isn’t; I miss my father and I’m sure he misses his, although he might not talk about it as much as you would expect. It’s just something so unfortunate and for the fact that I had some type of hand in a situation such as this does rub me the wrong way. What if Austin was to ever find out? “He was talking about how me and him have similarities with how our pops ain’t in our lives. Man, that shit fucked me up. He seemed so cool and calm about it too like it was no big deal for a seven-year old to say that,”

That seemed to get under his skin more than anything. He was literally turning red right before me. I was speechless. I never once heard Austin talk about his father but that didn’t necessarily mean that he didn’t think about him at all. I remember once upon a time when I wondered where Austin’s father was at and to find out that I would basically have to play him a few days later, unbeknownst to me until Lonnie basically told on himself. We sat in silence as Adrian continued to puff away at his dwindling blunt. It was kind of hard watching him go through so many emotions and not have a single answer to any of his questions. I know Adrian is passionate; he didn’t have to tell me that to understand. However, it was just something I wasn’t accustomed to seeing him be so blatant about it. It was a little saddening to watch.

“Well for one, he didn’t mean it,” I stated as confidently as possible. “He’s young and impressionable so that’s probably why he said what he did. He doesn’t know better,”

“That’s not how it seemed,” he said. “Like, I feel like this was all under the influence of Justine and her trying to prove some type of point,”

“She wants Lonnie in Austin’s life, that’s understandable,” I sighed. “I don’t think she would sway Austin to think his father was a deadbeat,”

“Not when a kid walks away with the mindset that they all of all sudden don’t care no more,” he muttered.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Adrian. Maybe it’s one of those phases he’s going through,” Leaning his head against the support from the chair, he finished off the blunt with ease and sighed contently. “I wouldn’t hold it against him either,”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I feel bad for lil man, you know, cause that’s my nephew and all but I despise the fuck out of his sperm donor,”

“Why?” As far as I knew, I wasn’t 100% sure on what animosity Adrian had towards Lonnie besides the obvious and a few theories I’ve conjured up on my own. The main one solely being based upon how carless Lonnie was to allow Austin to go to the store by himself and end up in the worse case scenario.

“I never liked Lonnie to begin with, no one did. But my sister was stubborn as hell and went against everyone wishes. I was frank with her about how I see this shit ending for her and she never believe me. Now look at her and what he’s done. Something is hella sketchy about him and I haven’t found the energy to find out until Austin went missing. I don’t trust him, and I know he’s behind some serious shit. I have this gut feeling and it’s proven me right countless times,” he gritted. By the time he had finished explaining this to me, he already had a blunt to his lips, looking for his red lighter. I held it in my hands and did the honors of lightening it myself.

“Well, what’s going to happen now with Lonnie? Are you going to tell Justine? You don’t want to put her in a compromising position,”

“Lonnie is easy to deal with. Don’t worry ‘bout him. As far as Justine, I’ma tell her in due time but her ass gotta start talking first because she playing like I’m stupid,” he grumbled, his voice so husky like. I bit the inside of my lip and nodded. I felt like as soon as they confronted each other with their issues and problems, it just might be something more dramatic than what everyone anticipated. It’s no secret that they bicker and go back and forth over the smallest things but when will that come to its peak? When will the ticking time bomb erupt and leave the two of them hating each other forever? Anything could happen. and I’ve seen it even happen in my own family with my father and aunt numerous of times before they reconciled.

“I would tell her now,” I advised. “You’ll sleep easier,”

“You see this shit right here?” he said, referring to the blunt. “This is what makes me sleep… you should try it,” he smirked.

“No thank you,” I chuckled.

“Why not?” he pressed, licking his lips.

“I don’t have a reason to smoke,”

“You don’t need one,” he said quickly.

“Not now, Adrian,” I laughed at his failed attempts at trying to get me to smoke. It’s not that I’m against it, I just don’t do it.

“In the case, I need to bring something to your attention, baby girl,” His voice was stern, so I automatically knew it was something serious. I just didn’t know how serious it was and whether or not it would affect me or something. With everything Adrian has been saying in the past hour or so, nothing has been relatively positive. I just don’t know what more to expect and if I should become worrisome. It wasn’t helping that Adrian decided to take long dramatic pauses, only intensifying my worries. “I told you from the start that Ryan wasn’t shit and you would realize it too. You know that but before you’re able to go back to him,” he said, using quotations. “…. I need you to know that your man stepped out on y’alls relationship and got some side bitch pregnant,”

I don’t think I heard him correctly so instead of spazzing, I simply laughed. In my head, there was no way possible Ryan or anyone for that matter could possibly do that. I understand completely that Ryan and I might not have had that picture-perfect relationship but it was better than most by a long shot. My mind could not and would not wrap its head around something like…. the unbelievable. It seemed like some sort of twisted joke and punishment I seemed to have deserved for a reason unbeknownst to me. However, the longer I stared at Adrian’s stoic, emotionless face, I realized he wasn’t laughing or cracking a smile… not that I expected him to anyhow. Sliding off his lap and into the open space besides him, I stared blankly at the moving water with a blank mind. He wasn’t lying. He was telling nothing but the truth. “What the fuck?” I found myself whispering.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, B. I just figure you should know before anything happens,”

I closed my eyes tightly, feeling the pressure of tears attempting to slide out of my tear ducts. If Ryan just so happened to be cheating on me, I think I would have been smart enough to find that out before hearing it from someone else. When could he have possibly had enough time to go out and do his dirt when we were always together even when we were having our differences? It just didn’t make sense and the longer I thought about it, the more I felt myself mentally caving. I would have never thought that Ryan would go as far as cheating on me when I have been nothing but faithful to him. Then to find out from Adrian of all people? This was definitely a stab to my back. Maybe I should have listened to my mother when she told me she didn’t believe Ryan was a good choice for me. Maybe I should have took Chance’s opinions into consideration. Maybe I should have listened to Rayne when the chance presented itself for her to give me her thoughts on Ryan. But I didn’t. I listened to my father and look where that has led me.

“Here,” Adrian muttered, extending his hand out. I looked down at the blunt and chuckled bitterly. My life has been turned upside down quickly in just a mere three months and I don’t know if this is something I should be grateful for because it’s eye opening or feel ashamed because I wasn’t aware before. Shit, I feel like both. So, for about twenty minutes, we both sat in silence as I finished off the perfectly rolled blunt by myself. Any other time, I wouldn’t have taken it but this was a different predicament; a predicament I wasn’t sure I could handle by myself.

“Are you sure?” I whispered, bringing my legs up to my chest.

“Positive unless Ryan ain’t the father,”

“So regardless, he was cheating?” I murmured, feeling defeated. That blunt didn’t do shit to numb me.

“I guess,” he said. I shook my head sadly, tears I’ve been trying to hide for the past half hour pour out of my eyes. There were a million and one things I could have been doing, saying or expressing but I was still in that initial shock and no matter how many times I mulled over it, I still couldn’t believe it nor would I ever think Ryan would stoop that low. Not only did he get someone else pregnant, but he betrayed me in the worst way and didn’t even have the courage to even tell me about it nor take responsibilities for his foul ass actions.

“Don’t cry over a nigga like him, a’ight? I tell my sister the same shit. Instead, you fuck their head up,” Adrian stated, bringing me closer to him.

“Why would he do something like that?” I whimpered.

“I’ma be honest with you like I am my sister; he wasn’t yours to begin with,” That only caused a permanent scowl to etch across my face as I allowed his words to sink in.

“I’m so fucking exhausted with all of this,” I expressed, tears still managing to blur my vision, even with Adrian doing his best to comfort me. I was so hurt by Ryan’s action and the fact that I couldn’t confront him at the moment because of obvious reasons only turned my sadness, regret and disappointment into anger. Why would he ever think it is acceptable to do something like that? Why be with me in the first place if that’s what you were going to end up doing to me? I didn’t deserve it, no one deserves that type of treatment and it was just grinding my gears. Not to mention, he ended up getting the chick fucking pregnant. I don’t know what I was mad at more. The fact that he cheated or that he didn’t use protection and someone that isn’t me is pregnant.

“As bad as it might sound, maybe this happened for a reason. You’re so much better than what Ryan can do and give for you. Don’t walk around with a pout and shit, a’ight? You should be happy God ain’t let you walk around with that nigga for eighteen plus years,” he murmured, rubbing my side soothingly.

“It still hurts,” I frowned. I seriously don’t even know how worse my predicament could get.

“Look, pain don’t last forever and that some real shit. Yeah, he cheated but you shouldn’t be the one feeling down about this shit. That’s all on him, baby girl. You hear me? He fucked up and now he has to deal with the consequences. You ain’t do shit wrong,” I looked up at him and smiled faintly. It was nice knowing that he felt that way but I still felt some type of way, as I should and I don’t know how long this feeling will last. I literally gave my all into that relationship and to see it end up with results like thatis heartbreaking. I said a long time ago that I was done with Ryan and indirectly, we are no longer a couple but that doesn’t take away the fact that he fucked me over like that. Had things been different, I doubt he would have ever pulled such a thing but sadly, they aren’t and now I’m stuck feeling like I was the one who purposely stepped out and got pregnant by some random nigga.

“I hear you,” I sighed, biting my bottom lip. “Look at me. I’m so fucking antsy and shaky now,” I said, raising my hand a bit so he could see. “You sure I gotta go back to him?”

“Naw, I can kill him on sight if you prefer,” he said nonchalantly with a mischievous grin on his face. Chuckling lowly, I shook my head.

“I’ll decline on that,”

“Alright, the offer is still out there though,” A moment of silence had passed before he spoke up again, intentionally bringing me out of my thoughts concerning Ryan and another thing he done to disappoint someone. “Get up,”

“Adrian, please, no. I just want to sit here and sulk,”

“Bailey,” he said sternly.

“Adrian,” I said in the same tone, crossing my arms over my chest. He knew that if he left me out here alone, I’d just end up crying and feeling bad for myself all over again. Despite his wonderful efforts of trying to distract me from the bigger picture, I had to face the music; no matter how off key it was too. Sucking his teeth, he leaned down and scooped me up in his arms, picking me up bridal style. I didn’t even put up a protest to his action and allowed him to do as he pleases. We ended up in the master kitchen and luckily for us, everyone was pretty much asleep or getting ready to sleep. It was nearing eleven and if Austin was sleep already, that meant everyone else would be too.

“This was supposed to be Austin’s but he can’t hang so I figure you would want it,” Adrian said after he placed me down on the granite counter. Walking to the freezer, he pulled out a container and grabbed a fork, finally placing the dish besides me. “Comfort food is the best, ain’t it?” he smirked, revealing the ice cream sundae. My mouth was literally watering for it.

“Thank you, Adrian,” I smiled, wrapping my legs around his body. His hands found their way around my waist, bringing me closer to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. I leaned in first and kissed his lips lightly. He softly sucked on my bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside of my mouth as our tongues wrestled against one another. The kiss began to turn aggressive quickly and without much thought, I found myself moaning into the kiss and pulling him closer. I needed comfort and Adrian was doing an excellent job at doing that, surprisingly. Then again, it’s not so surprising. He has a heart and it shows whenever a situation like this pops up.

“Can you stay up with me tonight? I don’t think I’ll be falling asleep anytime soon,” I confessed after pulling away.

“Why? So, you can talk my head off and smoke up half of my supply?”

“Please?” I pouted.

“After I eat this dessert,” he agreed, causing a faint smile to appear on my face. So, for the next half hour we both sat, talked and laughed while we could about almost anything. It was a good feeling knowing that he was doing his best to bring up my mood. If it was up to me, I would be in the room, feeling down as ever. It’ll probably happen anyhow, just not right now. I’m still in shock and it won’t hit me until I’m probably in New York and I’ve come in contact with him.

“I swear I just gained like three pounds,” I mumbled, softly running my fingers through his soft hair.

“Hope that shit goes straight to your ass,” he grunted, palming my ass.

“Shut up,” I giggled. We were snuggled up in one of the areasthat contained a TV since our room actually didn’t. His lanky self was laid out across the couch with him resting his head on my stomach and his arms around my waist. It was just so natural how conversation between the two of us easily flowed from one topic to the next. It was still difficult to not think about Ryan and what was just revealed to me, but I was trying to do well with keeping up appearances. I didn’t want to show how broken I truly was by the news. But the free-spirited talking didn’t last long because before I knew it, Ryan was now the topic of discussion.

“I need to know right now if you’re comfortable enough to go back home and be in Ryan’s presence,”

“I’m not,” I stated truthfully, and this has been expressed numerous times.

“So, what will make you comfortable? Regardless, you gotta go back,”

“And then what happens to you?”

He cut his eyes at me before resting his head back on my stomach. “That’s beside the point. Let me know now if you’re going to go back to him,”

“Not in that sense,” I muttered. “But there has to be some adjustments ‘cause I will not feel comfortable in his space,”

“We can do that,” he nodded, siting up and reaching for his phone; well, it was more a fake phone that he used when he didn’t want anyone knowing his number. “Call him… now,”

What?!

[beccasarahmayxo-blog]

A heart full of love (Brian x Me)

My writing skills are “rusty” pls no judge

“Love, can I come in?” He whispered into the oaken frame.

“Please my angel” I said loud enough for him to hear.

He pressed the door handle and pushed gently, he still took my breath away every time he walked into a room. Age had not taken away his kind eyes and hair that was not unlike a poodle. Except now it looked more like Britain’s overcast skies rather than a dark and stormy night. His eyes roamed my body like we were young again, intense and wanting. In that moment I remembered the girl I was and the man he was yet to become. All those years ago.

“Are you ready my love?” He said with a half smile, brushing a strand of my mahogany hair behind my ear. The diamond earrings moved just a bit and sparkled in the white light of the dressing room. He took it into his large hand, smiling as he did so.

“ I remember when I brought you these” he said with the same half smile, bittersweet memories.

“So do I, as I remember we had just had a fight, you were working too much and I was lonely and friendless” I said smiling as I closed my eyes and pictures that day many moons ago.

He laughed “ As I remember you threw them at me”

“ I was a little wild back then my love, all anger and hormones” I said eyes still closed, deep in memories from long ago

“Weren’t we all my little dove” he said as he pressed his lips to my forehead.

He entwined his hand into mine, placing our entwined hands on his heart.

“All these years; and you still make my heart flutter”

“Stop being wet Brian” I slapped his arm playfully with my free hand.

“Fine, but I do love you, you know this right?” He said sternly.

“ you only tell me a million times a day my love” I smiled looking in his warm hazel eyes.

He lead me out of the room, into along corridor, stars names were written all over them. The ones who were starring in this movie, and the ones who lived through the real times. We stopped outside Rogers dressing room, I squeezed Brian’s hand supportively. I knew today would be hard for him, it was hard for us all.

I banged on the door loudly

“Roger come out you old fart, we’re waiting for you”

“ I’ll just be a minute, your best friend is keeping me rather occupied”

I laughed “Nicole send him out or I’m coming in” I said, Brian chuckling, almost embarrassed.

“Just because you two haven’t had sex since the 90’s” Roger shouted.

“I swear to god Roger, you have 10 minutes. We have a red carpet to walk, Pomp and ceremony remember” Brian exclaimed loudly.

I laughed as I pulled Brian’s hand away, from the door handle.

“Let them have their fun my love, Roger still lives in the 70’s, he’ll be brought back to reality when he dislocates his hip”

Brian chuckled at me and shook his head, he knew that Roger would be able to hear me from how loud I was talking and as we were walking away I could hear a faint “Fuck off Becca, you nun”

A smile grew on my face, if only he knew.

We walked out of the building and climbed into a limo. Roger and Nicole joined us a good five minutes late, as usual. With Deaky and Veronica joining us shortly after that, it was lovely to see them. Privacy had suited them well but my man couldn’t stay away from the stage and I cherished that about him.

Nicole had aged well, her long blonde hair not hinting of grey at all, her slim figure hardly hinting at the fact she had bore Roger two beautiful children. We soon arrived at the venue that would be hosting the premiere night of Bohemian Rhapsody a Freddie Mercury and by extension Queen biopic.

Brian exited the car first, swiftly followed by myself and Nicole. Roger coming out next and Deaky and Veronica followed suit. I could tell Deaky was uncomfortable but he owed this to Freddie and the bands legacy and I loved him for breaking his self imposed isolation to be with us tonight.

The camera flashes were almost blinding but I played the dutiful wife and stood back adoringly with my best friend as our respective husbands did their work, smiling and taking photos signing autograph after autograph.

We eventually made it inside and the doors were closed behind us, the noise fading to a slight mumble and the odd small flash of light making it though the cracks in the door.

Before the film started Brian and Roger had decided to make a speech, we the ever dutiful wives stood with them every step of the way. Brian became too choked up to talk and Roger couldn’t get his words out.

“Baby, I’ll finish this, don’t worry. I’ve got you my love” I whispered to him before stepping up to the microphone

“Thank you all for being here tonight, as you can all appreciate this is a incredibly hard night for us all, seeing our lives on the big screen, seeing Freddie brought to life by the lovely Rami Malek. My husband brought to life by the radiant Gwilym whom managed to capture his beautiful heart. And to the other cast members who without you this film would not have been possible. We thank you and we thank Freddie for inspiring us to live our life and honour him tonight. Thank you and good night.”

We left the stage then, Brian’s hand twisted into mine, his thumb running small circles on the back on my hand. He could see the tears welling up in my ocean blue eyes. Taking our seats at the front of the theatre then opening credits began to roll. A single tear rolled down my cheek as the opening scene began to play.

“ I still can’t believe he’s gone”

Brian smiled and wiped away my tear with his index finger.

“ I know my love, I know. “

I drifted off into a daze remembering times gone by.

Flashback *1986- Live Aid*

I stood in the wings of the huge live aid stage, lights and the sound of pure and unadulterated joy radiated from the crowd, for 20 minutes they had thrashed around to the anthems of Queen their hearts alive and beating.

I rubbed my belly silently , I was about 8 months pregnant at the time and my back was aching like a bitch.

Brian waved good bye to the crowd and ran off stage carrying his guitar along with him. I smiled as he walked up to me and kissed my forehead,.

“And how’s my beautiful girls today,?” He asked confidently

I smiled , shaking my head

“We don’t even know if I’m having a girl my love, we decided to have the gender be a secret”

“Of course my love, but I still wager 100 quid that you’re having a little girl”

“Whatever you say Brian.John, Roger and Freddie all think it’s a little boy” I said rolling my eyes, I felt like I was carrying a little boy inside of me but obviously Brian’s insisting that I was having a girl but doubt in my brain.

We walked as briskly as I could manage back to the silver airstream trailer we shared whenever I accompanied Brian to any kind of event. In years before Brian would get ready for shows in a large room with all the others and myself and the other wives and girlfriends would hang about on a sofa chatting away. However in recent years Brian and myself had grown to love our privacy, especially after we were married.

I slumped myself down on the large black leather sofa with a sigh, I had only been stood for half an hour but imagine carrying a watermelon for half an hour, after that long it would start to take strain on your back

We walked back to the trailer hand in hand, as we always did, Roger bringing Nicole swiftly behind him. Whilst Freddie went to catch up with Mary as he often did after a show.

“Did you enjoy that my love?” I asked him with my head still laid against the cold leather sofa.

“It was good, we really performed better than I expected after such a long break from playing together” he smiled at me looking confused as to why I was laying with my head turned away from him.

“Why aren’t you facing me little one?” He asked quietly.

“ I’m so tired Brian I just want this damn baby out of me already, it’s been 8 months and I don’t think I can do another 30 days” I whimpered, almost in tears.

He sighed and came and sat beside me, rubbing my thigh in a comforting manner.

“You can, you know you can because when we have our little baby none of this will matter because we will finally be a family” he said dreamily as if thinking of our new life together once our baby arrives.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not carrying the damn thing around with you twenty four seven” I muttered, still facing away from him.

He grabbed my arm gently and pulled me up, complying with a loud groan I was pulled into a sitting position awkwardly facing my husband.

“You can do this, and I know you’ll be the best mother in the world and as soon as you see our baby none of this pain or aching will matter” he said cupping the side of my face.

I couldn’t help but smile, his endless positivity made my heart beat just a little faster it really was all going to be okay. Just one more month.

I leaned up to kiss him gently, he cupped my face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ears as he pulled away slightly resting his forehead on mine.

“Knock knock fuckers” Roger shouted from the other side of the air stream door.

“Fuck off Rog, I’m pregnant and very hormonal” I screeched, my head in my hands.

“Ooooo scary” Roger laughed before pushing open the door anyway pulling a sheepish looking Nicole behind him.

“I hate you so much sometimes, you know that don’t you” I moaned head still in my hands.

“I know and I relish in it my dear heart” Roger said as he walked over to me and patted my belly gently.

“How’s my godson today? Still kicking the living daylights out of you, he’s a born drummer I tell you now.” Roger beamed, he meant well but I just wasn’t in the mood for his antics right this second.

“ Roger it’s a girl, I promise you it’ll be a girl” Brian said confidently, he had always wanted a daughter someone to protect and love just as he loved me. I groaned, this had to be at least the fifth time I’d heard this argument today.

“To be honest with you guys, it could be a lizard and I’d just be happy for it to be out of me and not trying to roundhouse my ribs every five minutes” I moaned, chuckling a little at the thought of my baby throwing karate moves inside my womb.

“Soon my love, so soon” Brian cooed at my cupping my face.

“ Over 10 years and you ducks still make me want to throw up” Roger added faking a vomiting noise

[statusquoergo]

Canon's getting worse : Marcus chose to tell H that he cheated instead of the truth? H/D casually talking about the night they had as if they never pretended for 12y it didn't happen, Sh's dominatrix behavior. Some say the show is better without M while I'm like : last ep was boring and H never seemed so alone. And they really trying to sell us the D is so important to H. With M it felt natural, with D you can see they forcing it. He started to changed after meeting M, D never had that influence

“Good Mudding” was a trainwreck.

Let’s start with Marcus.

Despite being in “a program” (I’m guessing Gamblers Anonymous), Marcus fell off the wagon and started gambling again, apparently after years of being clean. I can kind of understand him not wanting to tell Harvey about this (remember back in the early 2000s when Marcus lost all his money gambling and decided it would be a good idea to beg Harvey for $150,000 he didn’t have so Marcus could start up a restaurant and Harvey ended up indebted to Charles Forstman?), but for one thing, he’s asking Harvey to be his lawyer, and the reason he and Katie are splitting up is definitely going to come out in negotiations, so there’s no reason for him not to be honest, and still, he chooses to lie, and the lie he decides to go with is “I slept with someone”?

So...one of the structural tenants of Harvey’s antagonism with Lily has always been that he had to lie for her to cover up her infidelity (another tenant being the infidelity itself). Marcus knows this; Marcus held it against Harvey during “The Painting” when Harvey came back to Boston and was still angry with Lily despite...the passage of time. And here’s where they really lose me, because while it’s true that Marcus is lying about asking one of his kids to lie for him to cover up his failure, and if he had started with that I would have been stunned if Harvey had heard him out, the point remains that he is lying. He’s making this up out of whole cloth, and out of all the possible excuses that exist in the entire world, he decides to go with...unfaithfulness. That thing that totally fucked Harvey up as a child and gave him massive trust issues that haunt him to this very day, that’s what Marcus chooses to pretend this is about.

Does he think Harvey will cut him some slack because he can relate, somehow? This is a trauma he’s gone through before so he knows how to handle it?

He’s a fucking moron.

Now, Harvey and Donna.

Their entire relationship this season thus far has been one big step back into the will-they-won’t-they melodrama of the previous seasons, except rather than rely on any romantic tension between the two (there isn’t any), the show just keeps teasing the history between them that’s been established and banking on the fact that they’re a man and a woman who are friends to make it implicit that there’s potential for their romance to be endgame. The problem with this (well, one of them) is that it utterly ignores all the tension that’s ever existed between them, like the mess with the Coastal Motors memo, or Donna being fired and Harvey being upset but letting it happen, or Donna kissing him without his permission, or the fact that they slept together one time a million years ago and explicitly decided they were better off just being friends.

It seems to me like the show is forcing the perspective that Harvey and Donna are flirty best friends who won’t ever be more than that (but will they though?) and we’re just supposed to pretend the majority of the previous seven seasons never happened. That whole bit with the strawberries and whipped cream was so uncomfortable; it made Harvey seem like the pining one who wants to be with Donna, while she’s the tease who holds him at bay after that one ill-conceived night of passion in their youth when in fact it’s Donna who’s always been painted as the one who wants more out of their relationship while Harvey repeatedly tells her that there’s nothing there for them.

It’s almost like the writers want us to forget everything that’s happened between them except for that one ill-conceived night of passion in their youth.

And, Louis and Sheila.

Sheila’s behavior in this episode was 100% certifiably sociopathically inappropriate. First of all, she’s the one who didn’t want kids in the first place, and now she’s holding it over Louis’s head that he can’t bring himself to stop mudding while they try to get pregnant, even though he’s under a lot of stress and this is his main comfort technique and she has made zero effort to help him come up with a substitute; meanwhile, she’s making herself into some kind of victim because of how much her body will change and how much food she won’t be able to eat while she’s pregnant? She doesn’t seem like she wants a kid so much as a bargaining chip, or a means of controlling him.

Also, the thing with the mudding. If Louis’s count is “fine,” then what the hell does Sheila’s age have to do with him stopping mudding while they’re trying to get pregnant? How does Louis stopping mudding fix the problem of Sheila being too old? And if they’re really so desperate to get pregnant, why not look into intrauterine insemination?

So, Mike.

Seriously, people are saying the show is better without Mike? I mean, I guess I can see how Mike was getting on people’s nerves last season, with all the bad writing and such, but if Mike was still acting like Mike (circa s1-5), I have to believe things would be better than they are now. And is it just me, or did Harvey seem to very suddenly make some enormous strides towards not missing Mike anymore? We went from bringing him up ten times per episode to zero mention whatsoever, and everyone’s just...fine with this?

Also, where’s Katrina in all this? And when Samantha was trying to defend herself against Alex for the way she used his daughter (which she did, and it was stupid, and wow these writers do not know how to write teenagers), why didn’t she bring up that the recording was made in a public place with no expectation of privacy and therefore arguably not illegal? And is Samantha’s tragic backstory really going to be that her parents weren’t there for her when she was growing up and she became a rebel, because whatever I was imagining, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that boring.

So I mean I guess it’s fair to say I wasn’t thrilled with this episode.