#Eerie Planet Second Edition

[churchofsatannews]

Eerie Planet - Second Edition: A Photographic Exploration of Dark Tourism

From abandoned underground military facilities to ancient temples, mystical sites and macabre museums, the long-awaited follow-up to Eerie Planet has finally come to fruition, featuring Chernobyl, Whitby Abbey, Loch Ness, the infamous Amityville Horror house and many more. Comprised entirely of the author’s own full color photography and travel recollections of his investigations, Marquis H.K.’s…

[deusexlachina]

Cheeseage Exocolonist: Epilogue

For those wondering Where They Are Now in my perfect world.

Having achieved universal adoration, I get to see the epilogues of all my peers, making the epilogue so long that "The Child You Were," which is five and a half minutes long, ends about halfway into the ending, leaving me to read about my friends' fates in an eerie silence as I contemplate the cost of perfection.

I have given all my loved ones their dream lives, but I can no longer be fully part of those lives, because I lived too many others in search of the golden timeline.

As a high-rebellion governor, I Take The Colony In A New Direction, replacing Council members with younger people who are more in line with my kind of reforms, and the other departments fall in line because I have the security squads firmly on my side. I am quoting this verbatim because there is no way I can spin it to sound more colourfully tyrannical.

Having reconciled with her twin brother with the power of drugs, my power wife edits people's brains to make them resistant to Bad Thoughts, a marginally less sinister use for her medical expertise than engineering a plague.

Tangent is also the first person in the planet's history to realize we need a mental health expert who is not a barista. I'm proud of her.

As revenge for stealing her dream job, Marzipan steals my dream girl. Then Tangent dumps Marzipan, because nobody can constrain Tangent.

Thanks to my barista skills breaking up her and Vace, Anemone lives a happy life. She Tears Down This Wall.

Socks keeps growing, and Cal has to release her, having spent his entire childhood with the worm.

Marzipan is part second in command, part confidante and part nemesis, which is more glamorous than just assassinating me in my sleep.

Dys becomes an Animorph. Tangent celebrates this, having finally found common ground with her twin: wanting to leave humanity.

Rex mends his friendship with Vace, who becomes a better person and then proceeds to fly into a wormhole and is never seen again. Having dreamed of exploring space his whole life, he couldn't stand to be stuck on this planet, though he could've if I'd given him exactly five more cakes. I let him escape the wormhole, because I never can.

Tammy is finally confident, and advocates for the communal raising of children, presumably because she's grown up around Tang and Dys, who were not communally raised, and look what happened to them. Her epilogue reveals that Antecedent is still Chief Steward until her nineties. Given that I remove all authorities who don't bend to my will, Auntie must have gone along with My Kind of Reforms, which makes sense because she always knows which way the wind is blowing. The snake.

Nomi becomes a Magical Person who is popular at princess-themed events. With my help, they finish their video game. "Getting a lot of Animorphs vibes from this," thinks woman who read all of the Animorphs books.

My relationship with Tangent having inevitably fallen out, Sym becomes my annoying roommate.

My parents do well. My dad cultivates dizzyweed and hops, presumably inspired by his daughter's therapeutic drug empire.

Even I am impressed with myself, telling myself that "it's not easy to make someone put aside their ego and surrender to a greater power."

That greater power being me, of course.

Thanks for reading!

[harryspet]

little doe [5] peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x oc, multiverse oc, fluff, angst, filler chapter, mentions of needles, little editing

A/N: This is going to be the second to last chapter in this series! The support on this story has been great and every like, reblog or comment really makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. 

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

In which a kiss makes her forget her pain. 

word count: 2.2k

2 MONTHS LATER

“It seems the pills are keeping all her vitals normal,” Pepper unstrapped the blood pressure device from around Doe’s arm. Doe wasn’t sure what all the devices were for but Peter had insisted that Pepper was just making sure she was healthy, “Blood pressure is normal, temperature is higher than average but that’s to be expected. You’re a very healthy girl, Doe.”

Doe grinned, understanding that she had passed whatever test was just given to her. Pepper handed her a blue lollipop and Doe eagerly accepted it, popping it into her mouth. It was Doe’s first time back at Stark Labs and it made her wonder how her life could’ve changed so much in three months. 

“How is she at home? How are her powers?” Pepper asked Peter who was leaned against the wall. The small white office was starting to make him feel a bit claustrophobic. Peter felt a bit anxious which he hated since he knew that Pepper would never hurt her. Still, he felt overly protective whenever Doe left the safety of his apartment. 

“She’s great at home. The beginning was a little rough but we’ve gotten to know each other,” Peter’s eyes raked in Doe’s appearance, how she’d insisted on wearing that bright blue dress that she claimed made her feel like royalty. She turned heads whenever they were in public but it was best for Peter to let her be, “And her powers … it’s clear they’re much stronger when she’s sad or angry.”

“Ah,” Pepper had a light bulb go off above her head, “A true drama queen. I’ve had people doing some research, trying to narrow down what version of earth she might hail from but, without Fury’s top-secret information, I doubt we’ll have much luck.”

Peter tensed up at the mention of Fury, his arms crossed, “You’re not thinking about contacting him, right?”

Pepper sighed, “No, Doe is adjusting well so I don’t see a need to. You’re doing a good job, Peter, I know it must be stressful,” Peter was usually hypercritical of himself and, even though he knew Doe was happy, he still couldn’t help but feel like he’d made mistakes, “Could you hold onto her? I’m going to have someone draw her blood so we can test it and make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

Peter nodded, moving from the wall to where Doe was sitting on the lab table. Pepper grabbed her clipboard and filed out of the room. 

“I did good, Peter?” Doe asked, her English having improved astronomically with MJ teaching her all the time. 

“You did,” Peter assured her, “But we have to do one more thing before we go home. One of the scientists is going to take your blood. That means they have to prick you with a needle.”

“It will hurt?” Peter nodded, tucking a strand of her bright hair behind her ear, “I no want to.”

“You have to. It’s to make sure you’re healthy so you can keep staying with Peter.”

Doe thought it over but she wasn’t fully convinced and soon there was a man in a lab coat that entered the room, “Stay still, okay?” Peter grabbed ahold of Doe’s hand as the man began the short procedure.

Doe’s heart began to race as the man tied the band around her forearm. She began to panic even more as she saw the needle, “No, no, no can’t, Peter! Peter, no!”

The man flashed Peter a concerned look and Peter continued to try to console Doe but she had shut her eyes tight, “Peter! Peter! No, no, no-” Peter smashed his lips onto hers and she stopped her tantrum immediately. He felt Doe’s body relax and Peter held her lips on his as the man pricked her arm with the needle. 

Peter pulled away when her blood had filled the vial. Doe blinked, staring up at Peter in a daze before looking down at her arm. The man was about to open a band-aid when Doe interjected, “Pink color, please?”

The man grinned before picking out the neon pink band-daid, placing it down on where the blood was just drawn, “There you go, dear.”

“Thank you, please. Sorry for yell,” Doe apologized, happily gazing at her new band-aid. All of her little mannerisms made Peter blush. 

As soon as the man left the room, Doe pulled Peter in again for another kiss. He stood between her legs as her lips moved against his. She felt him reach between the waistband of his pants and he had to grab her hand to stop her before she began something that Peter would have to finish. 

“Not here,” Peter rushed out and Doe pouted. Another thing that she couldn’t wrap her mind around was that they couldn’t do certain things in public, “Let’s go home, Doe.”

+

Their trip to Stark Labs lasted longer than Peter initially anticipated and it was dark out by the time they made it to his side of town. Peter shifted the vehicle into park, looking over into the passenger seat to see that Doe was close to dozing off. He looked around the almost empty parking garage and got an eerie feeling. 

“Stay here,” Peter whispered but Doe only moaned something tiredly, nuzzling into her leather chair. Peter opened his door slowly, wanting to take a look around. 

Peter took a few steps and the feeling he had got even worse. He gripped his emergency web-shooters as the sound of screeching tires flooded his ears. A series of black escalades appeared from nowhere, circling their car in the empty parking lot. 

Peter wasn’t worried about taking them down, he could easily do that with his superhuman strength. He was worried because he knew exactly who was going to step from that black car. 

“Look who I’ve run into,” Fury spoke, his usual ‘I am all-knowing’ look on his face, “Peter Parker.”

Peter’s lips pressed into a thin line, “What do you need, Fury?” He wouldn’t have made such a big entrance if he didn’t have some life-altering news for him. 

“Fine, I won’t beat around the bush,” He adjusted his jacket, looking over Peter’s tense appearance, “I think you’ve left some big information out in the last few calls we’ve had.”

Peter shook his head, his arms crossed as he pretended to search his memory, “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’ve grown a lot the last few years,” Peter knew already that he wasn’t the same bumbling, innocent boy he used to be. “I admire that about you but I think you’ve gotten a little too big for your britches. You’re dealing with something you couldn’t possibly understand the future ramifications of.”

Over the last two months, Peter had thought a lot about this very conversation and the future he wanted with Doe. They had only known each other for a short amount of time but Peter already knew her. He knew what he wanted them to be.

“Peter?” His heart stopped as he heard her tired voice. Soon, that voice grew worried as she appeared from around the car, Peter was quick to be at her side. 

“Doe, go sit in the car,” Peter winced as the girl didn’t budge, looking past Peter’s shoulders to see Nick Fury standing idly by. 

“Bad guy?” Doe asked, an otherworldly power was dancing on Doe’s fingertips and she was ready to protect Peter at all cost. 

“No, not a bad guy-”

“Multiverse Being #165, believed to be from Earth version 482,” Fury interrupted and Peter turned, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “But it seems Peter has given you a new name. It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

Peter grabbed her hand as Doe moved to stand beside him, “M-My name is Doe.”

Fury’s eyes wandered to wear their hands held each other, “I can tell she’s adjusting well.”

“She’s not going anywhere, Fury, if that’s what you’re here for,” Peter stated firmly, “And she won’t be apart of whatever scheme you’re planning next.”

“I don’t plan schemes, Parker. Everything I do is for the benefit of the entire planet.”

“And everything I do from now on is for her,” Doe looked up at Peter, not catching every detail of the conversation but understanding how serious the conversation was. Even when she had caused trouble around the apartment, she had never seen him this tense, “So I decide what happens.”

“And if earth needs her? For the greater good?”

“I decide,” Peter stated again, knowing it would be a long time before she was ready for anything like that, “If she trains if she doesn’t. Just trust me, Fury.”

Fury thought for a moment. Although he was constantly questioning Stark’s decision to trust him, Fury decided to back down, “Remember I got my eye on you, Parker.” After an intense staring contest, Fury was off and Peter had won for now. 

Doe stared up at Peter and as he saw that same innocence in her eyes, he squeezed her hand tightly. 

+

Doe despised Peter’s video games. Especially when Ned would come over and they’d sit on the couch for four hours straight playing them. Doe’s love and attention meter dwindled by the second but she couldn’t do what she normally did. If she threw a tantrum she wouldn’t get a sticker on her “Good Behavior Chart”. 

She stared up at the fridge where it was displayed in all its glitter and construction paper letters. She could get a reward at the end of each week for having good behavior every day and today was day seven. 

As the clock above the stove turned to midnight, Doe grabbed the chart off the fridge and marched into the living room where Peter was still playing a video game, “Peter,” She called his name, knowing he couldn’t hear her through his headphone, “Peterrrrr.”

As Doe came into a view, Peter quickly shouted, “Just one more game and then I’ll tuck you in. One more.”

Doe’s shoulders fell before a light bulb went off in her mind. Since today was technically over, she didn’t have to be on her best behavior anymore. Doe took a seat by Peter who was playing shirtless and in his boxers. She set the chart to the side before crawling beneath his arms and into his lap. 

She nuzzled her face into his neck, her hands running over his strong chest and then his biceps, causing Peter to pause the game. Doe grinned as Peter set his controller to the side, and she straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands slid over her bottom, gripping the flesh there as she leaned in to kiss him. 

Peter had already closed his eyes and when their lips never met, he opened his eyes, “Sticker please?”

Peter’s head tilted back in realization, “You tricked me!”

Doe giggled, grabbing the chart to show him, “No trick. Peter and video game is bad. Peter and Doe is good . . . Doe and sticker is very very good.”

“Fine, you’re the boss,” Peter complied, swooping Doe up as he stood from the couch, “I guess you’ve been a good girl all week … if you don’t count the smoothie incident.” Doe pouted, thinking back to how she didn’t know you had to put the top on the blender. The smoothie still ended up tasting good which was all that mattered to her. 

Peter carried her into the kitchen and set her down onto the counter as he began ruffling through drawers, “Ah, here they are,” He opened one to find an assortment of stickers, “Which one do you want?”

This was Doe’s favorite part and she had practically ranked them all for her favorite to least favorite. She pointed to one shaped like a rainbow and Peter proceeded to place it onto the Sunday square. Doe clapped in excitement, knowing she was only a week away from filling up the entire month. 

“Gift now?” She asked, biting down on her bottom lip, as Peter placed the chart back on the fridge. 

Peter yawned, “What would you like this week?”

“Sex.”

Peter’s mouth parted in surprise, “What?”

“Like Game of Thrones.”

Peter blinked, confusion evident in his expression, “When have you been watching Game of Thrones?”

“MJ watch with me. She like when people-” Doe made the motion of a knife being stabbed into her stomach. Peter grabbed her hands, pulling them back away from her stomach. 

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “I really need to change the locks and you shouldn’t be watching shows like that.”

“Sex is bad? But we do sex-”

“Yes but-” Peter cut himself off as his thoughts interrupted him, “It’s just different, Doe. And we do a lot of things but we haven’t actually ... “ It was a line that Peter had yet to cross and he was still quite satisfied with what they already had. 

“Peter?” Doe held his face in her hand, wanting him to reassure her. 

“The first time you have sex … it might hurt and I-I don’t wanna hurt you, Doe.”

Doe’s face softened at the look of worry in his eyes, “Like the nee-dle?”

Peter nodded slowly, “Kinda like that, yeah.”

“Then Peter will kiss Doe and make feel better,” Doe grinned and a smile stretched on Peter’s face as his eyes lit up with happiness. Doe leaned into him and Peter did the same. The touch of their lips sent sparks through them and fireworks seemed to explode in the kitchen. 

As Peter pulled away to catch his breath, he stared at the beautiful creature before him with gratitude, “I love you,” He thought his heart my race or that he’d sweat nervously but Peter had never been more sure of something. 

“I … I different kind of love Peter.”

+

Hope you enjoyed this! If you have an idea for something you wanna see in the last chapter then feel free to send me an ask!

[harryanthus]

5 favs of 2020!!

RULES: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work.

1) who do you burn for — this fic means the world to me. it was the most emotionally draining but fulfilling fic i’ve written all year. i wrote it at a point of wanting to run away and start a new life and it reflects in the words.

2) The End — my quickest fic ever. i signed up for the @finelineficfest and within the week i finished writing the fic but didn’t know if i wanted to post it and fucked around with a few more wips but the amount of hope i poured into the fic called to me and i am so proud of this.

3) black cherries and chocolate — this wee ficlet came to mind at 2am and i didn’t stop writing about it. it also lead me to @mercurial-madhouse so it has a special place in my heart. it was a foreign genre to me – i’m more of a soft, sweet, slow burning angst kind of person but the eeriness that is in this – gahh i love it.

4) you, the moon. you, the road — probably the ugliest prettiest fic i could have ever dreamt of writing. this comforts me despite all the stuff that’s crammed in there. it is a love letter to Planet of Love by Richard Siken but also a love letter to all the ugly things i feel.

5) for tender ones like us — i wrote this for the @1dbreakupfest and back in August i was flipping through my diary for some inspiration and i had written down a quote by Lemony Snicket followed by Harvey Mikko’s For, M’s last line. it stuck a chord in me and i wanted to give love a second chance and out came the fic.

(i wrote both for tender ones like us and who do you burn for in the same week. it was fun.)

honorary mention to my first baby You can remain unaware (if you want to) which i wrote for the @wallsficfest. i struggled a lot but in the end (ha!) this gave me the push i needed to get back into writing.

all this rambling because @lululawrence tagged me.

tagging @falsegoodnight @hadestyles @mercurial-madhouse @twoweekrule @brickredtoe and @jacaranda-bloom (if they haven’t already done this!!)

[ak47stylegirl]

Sick Days: Chapter 9

So I ended up working on this chapter instead of my IRrelief fic...oops? 😅Anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter, huge thanks to @willow-salix for giving it a read over and helping me edit XD

The other chapters can be found here. 

---

Scott POV

He parked his car in the train station car park, turning the engine off. Today had not been an enjoyable day; he thought as he prepared to wait for John's train to arrive, leaning forward against the steering wheel, chin resting on his arms.

He still couldn’t believe he didn’t notice how sick Alan was this morning. Like the kid had been telling him that he wasn’t feeling well, but did he listen? 

No…

Some guardian he was, he thought with a frown, unintentionally glaring out his windscreen at the deserted train station. For all he knew, sending Alan to school could have made the cold even worse, and it was all his fault!

His frown shifted to a look of sadness as his mind went to Alan, who he had left at home. He hoped Allie was still asleep; he didn’t even want to imagine how upset Alan would be if he woke up and found out that he wasn’t there. 

Alan was...in a word, a sensitive kid, who needed a gentle and caring touch.

They were Alan's security blanket, himself in particular as he was the closest thing the kid had to a parent. He was Allie’s brother, father and mother, all at the same time….Because there was no one else to take up those roles… 

And, being honest, sometimes it was tough being all three of those things and often one gets forgotten among the others. It was usually the brother role that slipped; he was more a parent to Alan then a big brother at this point...

He sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a slight headache coming on. He glanced up at the station as the overhead speakers announced John’s train arriving soon.

He undid his seat belt and stepped out of the car, so John would be able to see him when the train arrived. He watched as John’s train pulled into the station, stopping with a loud screech. It seemed really packed tonight...

After a couple of seconds, a sea of people flooded off the train. There were people in suits, people in uniforms and people in casual clothes, all tired from the long day. 

Must have been a busy day at work.. or school, he added, spotting a couple of school kids chatting as they got picked up by their parents. Everybody looked so tired…

He was having difficulties spotting John in the crowd, which in itself was a rarity…Usually, John stands out like a sore thumb in a crowd; He thought with a small smile as he scanned the crowd for his brother. It was mostly because of John’s bright carrot red hair. 

Which John had inherited from their grandfather on their mother’s side. Other than Gordon’s slightly red-tinted blond hair, John was the only one in the family with the red hair gene. 

He couldn't help the small smile that formed as he scanned the crowd for his brother. The red hair definitely suited John..

While he looked nearly identical to their father, brown hair and dimples with his mother’s blue eyes. John, Gordon and Alan on the other hand were the most like their mother, in looks anyway…

Though both himself and John had inherited their father's height, both reaching the six foot mark easily. 

In fact, he remembered his Grandma joking once that Alan was their mother’s little twin. Alan looked so much like Lucille Tracy; it was almost eerie, although Alan was very much a mix of all of them when it came to his personality. 

If any one of them were the most like their mother in personality, it would be Virgil and John, he thought, his small smile becoming a full grin as he spotted his little brother getting off the train, his black laptop bag hanging from his shoulder.

“Hey, John!” He called to his brother, waving his arm in the air to get his little brother’s attention. “Over here!” 

---

He didn’t know how, but John always seemed to make his car seem small, he thought, glancing over at the front passenger seat to see John with his long legs stretched out in front of him. Which didn’t make sense because he was taller than John… 

Though he didn’t blame John for stretching out a bit, he thought as he drove his car around a corner. Those trains don’t really give you much space to move, and John looked drained. 

It wasn’t hard to imagine why... John wasn’t a real people person and an hour train ride, surrounded by lots and lots of other people, could really drain a person like John. 

That's why he waited until they were halfway home to ask John how his day was...

“It wasn’t that bad, but it was very busy, spent most of-” John yawned, his orange eyelashes blinking sleep from his eyes. “-of the day in the library studying for my astronomy exam..” 

“I’m sure you’ll ace that, John” He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “You know the stars like no one else...except maybe Alan, kid definitely getting into that stuff…” 

He has definitely caught the kid trying to sneak out at night to stargaze, way past his bedtime, he may add…

And most of the time, Alan completely forgets that it is cold at night and forgoes a jacket, resulting in an Allie popsicle by the time he realises the kid is out of bed…

Honestly, no wonder he’s going slightly grey...

“The astronomy exam isn’t just stars, Scott...” John explained, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. John always hated it when people had facts wrong.. “It’s asteroids, black holes, planets and complex situations that can only happen in space…” 

He smiled in slight amusement, not really understanding what his brother was going on about… Space wasn’t really his area of expertise, give him a plane and the clear sky and he was fine but space…

Completely out of his comfort zone...He was a sky bird, not astronaut... 

“You’re going to go up there one day, aren’t you?” He asked quietly with mixed emotions, keeping his eyes on the road so John wouldn’t see the conflict in them, even though he was sure his brother could hear it in his voice. “Like Dad…”  

Space ran in their family, their father being the first man to step on Mars. However, the stardom of being the sons of the first man on Mars didn’t really help them in the long run. The money his father had earned from NASA had gone into his and John’s education. 

His father was hoping to start a business but had died before he could get it off the ground. The little money that their parents had saved and put away went into supporting them until he could find a job to support him and his brothers. 

“If I can graduate and get accepted into NASA, yeah…” John smiled, looking out the car window at the stars in the sky. John turned to face him, “so, how has your day been? Heard it's been pretty rough...”

“It’s been…” He sighed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Yeah, rough is probably the best way to describe it..” 

He should have seen that Alan was sick, he thought with a little scowl, his grip on the steering wheeling getting tighter. How could he prioritise getting to work on time over actually taking time to check if Alan was telling the truth or not? 

Maybe if he had listened, Alan wouldn’t be-  

“You had no way of knowing that Alan was sick, Scott,” John spoke up suddenly, snapping him out of his self-loathing thoughts. “so stop beating yourself up over it…” 

He blinked at John in shocked surprise before focusing back on the road, slowing his car down to a stop as he came to a stoplight. “You don’t get it, John..” He sighed dismissively. 

“He told me he wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t listen...” He hit the accelerator, driving the car around the corner. Admittedly he may have hit the pedal a little too hard in his frustration. “What kind of guardian does that?” 

“Did he look obviously sick this morning?” John asked, blue-green eyes regarding him calmly, not even commenting on his slightly speedy turn. “Because I find it very hard to believe that you would send him to school if he even looked a little bit sick, so?”

He sighed, letting his shoulders drop. 

“Well, he didn’t look very sick this morning, no...But-” He answered reluctantly, shifting his hands slightly on the steering wheel with a frown, “-but he was harder to get up than unusual…”

“which in hindsight should have told me something was wrong,” He pinched the bridge of his nose with a slightly pained sigh, the headache from before coming back full force. “but Alan has never been an easy kid to wake up anyway, so…” 

John’s eyes watched him in silence, beckoning him to continue. John may not be a people person, but he knew people, knew when to speak and when to listen. John was very good at listening...

“Like I checked his temperature and it seemed normal..” He explained with a frown, letting himself properly reflect on the day’s events.  “So I thought he was just tired this morning and that once he was at school, he would be fine..” 

But Alan hadn’t been fine… 

“But then I got the call from the school and-Oh John, he sounded so sick...” He sighed, running his hand through his hair in slight distress. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it…”

“You know...You are too hard on yourself sometimes Scott..” John sighed wistfully, shaking his head slightly as he spoke. “You did nothing wrong, yes, you sent Alan to school when admittedly he should have stayed home…” 

He snorted dismissively to himself, “I don’t know about you John, but that sounds pretty bad to me…” He said as he turned off of the main street, home starting to get closer by the minute. 

“I haven’t finished yet..” John scowled at him, greeny-blue eyes giving him a slight stink eye. “Anyway, what I was trying to say, is that at the time, it wasn’t obvious that Alan needed to stay at home. So how could you blame yourself for something you didn’t even realise was an issue?”

He shifted in his seat slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable as John’s reasoning stood up and he didn’t want to admit it...John was right but…But he needed to be the best for his brothers, he couldn’t make mistakes. 

Mum or Dad would not have made the same mistake... 

John sighed, very clearly seeing his refusal to face the facts. “You made that choice based on the facts you had at the time, it may not have been the right one but that’s okay Scott...” John gave him a small comforting smile, “you’re allowed to make mistakes..”

No, I’m not…

“Sure, whatever...Can we just drop this?” He asked as he turned his car onto their street, home just minutes away. “I’m really tired, it's been a long day…” 

John’s shoulders dropped, eyes filled with disappointment, “Sure..” John sighed softly, turning his head to look outside his window. He was sure John was already planning to get Virgil involved, knowing his brothers…

He pulled into their driveway... 

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Our Dearest Readers,

Hey all! @missjennifercole​ has had quite the week and I figured I’d take something off her plate. Here is episode 49 of Cuba v DR. We’ve got one episode left and I am FREAKING OUT! I really hope we’ve done this series justice.

I’ve been reading through some of the previous season the last few days, gearing up for whenever we decide to start going through them to edit, and I think along the way I’m comfortable saying that we’ve had some stumbles, but hopefully the ending we have in mind leaves you guys satisfied. We love you all so much and especially those of you that have been with us since the beginning of this series, the amount of love and support for not only the story but for us as the writers has often times been overwhelming and I think I speak for both Jen and myself when I say that we have the most amazing readers on the planet.

Sinceriously,

Amanda

EPISODE 49

After work Roxie was happy to be home, she loved her job but lately she found that she had started missing Liam more. She’d had her first talk therapy session that morning and despite it only having been one session, she had already begun to feel better. At least the thought of seeing her baby was much less anxiety-inducing as it had been the day before. 

“It was so wonderful to watch you work, Roxanne. The camera loves you, darling,” Helena said, beaming with pride at her oldest daughter.

“Thank you, mum. I loved having you there as well. My co-host can be a bit much to deal with at times.” Roxie rolled her eyes at the thought, it had seemed that Aaron had been coming up with any excuse for them to have to reshoot this or that. “I was thinking we should take Liam to get some pictures done, professionally, baby portraits. It will be a chance to send it out to the family,” she said to her mother as she fumbled for her keys in her purse. “Plus Rafael and I have only been taking pictures on our phones and he’s doubling in size regularly. Soon he’ll be thirty at this rate.” She opened the door walking inside. 

“Oh, that would be lovely! Your father and I would have a photo of him to hang in our living room,” Helena answered.

“Precisely my thoughts,” Roxie answered as she pushed the door open. “We’re back,” she called out to her husband, moving into the living room where she usually found the two snuggling on the couch. When she found an empty room, Roxie turned to her mother. “That’s strange. Rafael left me a message telling me they were already home.”

“Well, perhaps they went out to pick up something to eat,” Helena replied with a bob of her shoulders.

“It’s close to Liam’s bedtime, I can’t imagine a reason why they’d leave.” She heard a cry from the bedroom, immediately sighing in relief as she moved into the room. “There you are-“ she paused, looking around and frowning. “Rafi?” 

She picked her son up, patting him on the back and gently rocking him as she moved into the guest bedroom where Helena was staying, and searched. There would be no reason for him to be in there but she was quickly running out of locations. 

“Love?” 

“Something wrong, darling?” Helena asked from the kitchen.

The lights were out, eerie silence of the room only deepening the pit in her stomach. She moved to the guest bathroom, then their bedroom, their adjoining bathroom as she felt real panic settle in. Rafael barely set Liam down at all, he’d never just leave. 

She turned to her mother, brows furrowed. “He’s nowhere.” 

“What do you mean, he’s nowhere?” Helena asked as she closed the fridge. “Perhaps in the bath?”

“I’ve checked everywhere, mum. He's not anywhere,” she said, moving to pick up her phone in her free hand. 

“Something’s happened,” Helena said, her previous task of warming food for her and Roxie completely forgotten. “He would never leave Liam alone.”

“I’m calling the police,” Roxie replied, thumb already moving over the flat screen of her cell phone.

“Isn’t his sister close by? You should call her after. Perhaps she knows something.” 

Roxie nodded, dialing 9-1-1 and listening to the longest three rings of her entire life. Even as she began to talk to the operator, she felt like this couldn’t be real. Rafael would never just leave their son alone in the apartment, she was offended just at the thought. But anything was more preferable than thinking something horrible happened. 

Her husband wasn’t shy of enemies from court cases or even by proxy of Nevada and that put him in a dangerous position. She couldn’t help but feel something had happened here, something truly bad. 

When she hung up the phone, she was trembling.

“I can call his sister, darling,” Helena offered, putting her hand over Roxie’s to take the phone. Roxie just shook her head, taking a breath to steady herself.

“No, no I need to do it. Will you stay with Liam for me while I’m in the other room?” she whispered. She could barely stand the thought of taking that baby out of her sight now, but she didn’t want his little ears hearing that his father had disappeared. Even if he couldn’t process it.

She dialed your number, feeling a rush of anxiety wash over her. 

“Hey you,” you answered with a smile. “What’s up?” 

“Y/N, something’s happened,” Roxie said, trying to keep the panic from rising further. “Rafael isn’t here.”

“What?” 

“Liam was by himself, he wouldn’t just leave the baby here. He would take Liam or call you. There would be no reason to--“ 

“--Roxie,” you said firmly. “Okay, I get it. Just calm down. Is there any sign of a struggle or anything?” 

“What? What the bloody hell are you talking about? I’m not a detective, Y/N! Where is my husband?!” 

You gave it a moment to let her panic, waiting until she calmed again. “The police are going to look for the same thing. Look, it doesn’t matter now, are you alone?” 

“No, I’m with my mum.” 

“Okay, stay there,” you said, standing up and pulling on a jacket. “I’m calling Nevada to see if he knows anything and I’m coming over. Lock your doors, close all the windows. If someone did come for Rafael, I don’t think they’re coming back but you can’t be too safe.” 

Roxie nodded as if you could see her, wiping a stray tear that had ran down her cheek. “Okay, I’ll lock everything now.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” you assured her as you moved out the door and downstairs to your car. Hollower words had never been spoken. You didn’t know that. You couldn’t assure that and more than anything else you weren’t even sure of it yourself. But she needed that assurance right now. “Rafael is going to be okay. I’m coming now. I’ll call you when I’m there. Don’t open the door for anyone but me or the police.” 

Roxie nodded again. “Okay, okay, please hurry, Y/N,” she begged.

“I’m coming, I promise I’ll be right there.” 

As you ended the call and got into the car, you looked at yourself in the mirror for a split second, you looked scared. You had to pull that look off of your face before you got to Roxie. There was no room for more than one person panicking and none of that would help Rafael.

You dialed your phone again, this time calling your husband. “Come on,” you mumbled, growing more frustrated with each ring. “Come on, Nevada, pick up.” 

---------

Rafael’s temples throbbed as a wet, sticky trickle ran down the side of his face. There was a slow drip coming from his right side and a low rumble beneath him vibrated against his bottom. A tight, sharp grip cut into his wrists and an attempt to move them elicited a hiss from him. His eyes opened to the darkness of a cold, damp room as the pain in his head doubled and he pressed his forehead against the wall next to him. Taking a deep breath, he carefully tilted his head up to find handcuffs around his wrists over a rusted metal pipe. 

He tried to pull his hands free by pulling down on the pipe with no success. His eyes were finally beginning to adjust to the dark and his legs moved in an attempt to stand but he couldn’t establish a firm footing. His muscles sore and screaming, he slumped back against the wall and continued to look around the room for a possible way out.

Where the hell was he?

He remembered Charles standing in his living room, holding his son. The image swarmed his mind and his pulse quickened.

“Liam,” he groaned, looking up at his wrists again and using a newfound strength to pull himself further up against the wall behind him. Straining his ears, he tried to listen for any familiar sounds and it was then that he realized he was gently rocking from side to side. The muted sound of crashing waves confirmed that he was on a boat of some kind. 

His eyes darted around the room, looking for something--anything--he could use to cut himself free. The room had obviously been prepared ahead of time, but he would’ve expected nothing less of Charles Heeley. The man had always been one to account for every detail. Looking along the floor around him, he scoured the filthy surface for something, anything to pick the lock of the cuffs. He hadn’t the slightest idea as to how to pick a lock, but he was determined to try anything.

He didn't care how long it took him, but he had to get free and find a way back to his family.

---------

“Holy shit.” 

The whisper sounded in the otherwise silent lab, where a technician was testing the partial fingerprint and DNA sample found at a crime scene they were convinced had been sanitized. Quickly moving to print out the matches he’d found, he wrenched the pages from the printer and shot up from his chair. File in hand, he raced out of the lab, deciding to take the stairs up to Captain William’s office. In retrospect it wouldn’t have made any difference to take the elevator, but he had been one of the many who doubted they would be able to find anything at the scene, let alone connect it to a suspect. His genuine shock had clouded his rational thought and he ran as quickly as his legs would carry him up the stairs from the basement to the third floor of the old precinct.

Shoving the door to William’s office open, the tech heaved and bent at the waist as he tried to catch his breath, one hand holding the file up.

“Don’t you knock?” Williams asked with furrowed brows at the sweaty technician.

“Sir...w-we found a m-match...for both the partial print...and the DNA.”

Williams’ face fell and he stood, snatching the file away to read the results. Eyes widening, he pointed at the report in his hand as his eyes met with the tech. “You’re sure about this.”

It was more of a statement than a question, this was what Leonard had been waiting for since he’d arrived in the Heights.

The tech nodded, breath still coming in heavy pants. He took a moment to right himself, swallowing as his breath finally began to slow. “Yes sir, there’s no question. The DNA sample belongs to Oscar Diaz Jr and the partial print has a seven point match with Nevada Ramirez.”

Williams dropped the report on his desk and grabbed his jacket before going into the pen and calling out to his lead detective. “Let’s go pick up Ramirez and Diaz.”

“We got them?” 

“Like a mouse in a trap,” Williams answered as he charged out the precinct.

---------

Nevada's phone rang loudly in the office building he'd just entered and he pulled it out to look down at the screen, seeing your name. Dropping the call, he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the top floor. He usually always answered when you called, but now all he could think of was getting out to where Natalia was. After what she'd done to Izzy, he couldn't wait to watch the light leave her eyes.

"Mr. Ramirez, it's so good to see you again!" Jasper's secretary said, flashing Nevada a bright smile as soon as he stepped off the elevator.

"Hola mi amor" he answered as he walked to her desk. "He in there?"

"Yes, go on in," she replied.

"Thank you. You look nice today, by the way," Nevada said with a smirk as he walked past her desk, up to Jasper's office.

"Always so sweet," she replied with a smile.

Without knocking, Nevada went into Jasper's office and nodded to the other man.

"Nevada," Jasper said with a smirk, looking up from his laptop. He stood and buttoned up his jacket, extending a hand towards the man in leather to shake.

Nevada shook his hand. "Oye, bro, I don't mean to bust in on you pero I need a huge favor."

"Name it," Jasper replied.

"Need to borrow your boat."

"Going on a trip?" Jasper asked with a smile.

"Not exactly," Nevada answered. "We found Natalia. She's off-shore--" His phone rang again, and he pulled it out to drop your call again before he looked back up at Jasper. "I wanna rearrange that bitch's face and hang her by her intestines."

"That seems like mercy compared to what I'd like to do to her," Jasper answered. "Your sister-in-law is a good girl. I was looking forward to seeing her succeed with her gallery. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's criminals who drag civilians into our business."

"You wanna come with?" Nevada asked as though they were planning a vacation.

Jasper grinned widely. "I thought you’d never ask."

---------

It took nearly two hours of pulling, his muscles screaming in agony as with his teeth clenched and a deep, loud grunt Rafael finally had been able to break the rusted pipe. Compressed air rushed out of the broken metal as Rafael collapsed to the floor. He took a moment to catch his breath, then despite the protest of his legs, he stood up and went to the heavy steel door on the opposite side of the room. Gripping the metal wheel at the center, he grunted as he turned it to the left, opened the door and peeked out into the corridor. This seemed too easy, but upon seeing no one in sight, he slowly stepped out of the room. The real task would be to find a way out and hoping that he was some place familiar. 

Were they docked at Chelsea Piers? Coney Island? 

Choosing to go left, towards a set of metal stairs, his eyes stayed alert for any movement other than his own. A whistle accompanied by footsteps sounded from the stairs and Rafael quickly went into the room to his immediate left, tucking himself behind the door. The whistle was closer, heavy thud of each step keeping a tempo as the man made his way down the corridor. He looked down at his still cuffed wrists and wondered whether the Whistler had a set of keys. Rafael turned his eyes back up, ducking and waiting for the man to walk past the door he was hiding behind before he came out and hooked the man’s neck with his cuffed wrists. Clenching his jaw, he used all his strength to pull the struggling body against his, pressing the chained metal against his neck. 

The man, surely much more rested than he was, rushed backwards and slammed Rafael against the corridor while his hands scratched blindly at his attacker. One hand reached for the gun at his waist, but was having trouble getting it out of it’s holster. Rafael pulled with renewed vigor, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head to one side. Never in his life did he imagine himself ever killing anyone for any reason, but he was determined to get back to his family no matter what, even if he had to commit murder. The man stomped and slammed him over and over into the corridor, attempting to get free, but Rafael only pulled harder, growling with his efforts. 

The nails against his skin slowed their digs as the life drained out of the man pressed against him. With one last yank, he heard arms go slack and slap against his victim’s sides and Rafael opened his eyes to find the man’s eyes were closed. Rafael let the body fall to the floor and looked to either side of the corridor just as a heavy door groaned in the distance. He heard footsteps approaching and voices of more than one man. 

More were coming and he didn’t have the strength to fight them off. Moving as quickly as his body would allow, he gripped the back of his victim’s shirt and dragged him towards the door he’d been hiding behind. Sweat dripped off his nose as he pulled the dead weight into the dark, empty room and carefully pushed the door shut just as the men turned into the corridor where he’d committed his first felony, and Rafael held his breath as he waited for them to pass his hiding place. 

“It’s fucked up is all I’m saying, how he left the kid all by himself,” he heard one of the men say.

“What the hell would he do with a baby? Good riddance. The little brat’s mom probably got home eventually,” another replied.

Liam. Charles must have left Liam at the condo. Rafael felt a silent sigh pass through his mouth at the news that his son was safe with his mother. Now he just needed to get out of this alive and all would be well again. 

Turning towards the unconscious man, Rafael couldn’t help but check for a pulse. He sighed in relief at the faint flutter beneath his fingertips and began to look through the man’s pockets. Finding a set of keys, he looked for one that looked like the one Liv carried for handcuffs and used it to uncuff his wrists. Rubbing the raw, cut up skin, he looked back down at the man, then down at himself. He was barefoot and his cashmere pants were certainly not made for a situation such as this. Working quickly, he changed into the man’s clothes and shoes, tentatively placing the gun in it’s holster on his belt before he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

He wiped the blood off the side of his face as best he could and made his way down the corridor, looking for an exit.

And that was when he saw it.

A window.

Moving double time, he stepped up to the small, circular glass that offered a view of outside. 

Water...and not just any water. Ocean. Open ocean.

They were out at sea!

---------

OJ whipped his head towards the door of the club at the sound of it bursting open, brows knitted and fists clenched as Williams and seven other detectives walked into the club. He was sick and tired of this new Captain coming into the club whenever it suited him and OJ stood, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Something I can help you with, pendejo? Buffet doesn’t open till dinner time,” he sneered with a smug expression.

Williams burst into laughter as he closed in on OJ. "Oscar Diaz Jr," he said, grinning at him. "Where's your boss?"

"Not sure. But I'll tell him you stopped by," OJ answered with a smirk.

"That might be difficult seeing as how you're under arrest," Williams replied, earning a scoff from OJ as the larger man stepped behind him and cuffed his wrists. “You got the right to remain silent and I, for one, wouldn’t be offended if you exercise that right--”

"--You got nothing on us, bro. This is fuckin' harrassment," OJ growled, turning his head to one side to peer at the Captain over his shoulder.

"We’ve got your DNA...bro," Williams replied, turning to his men. "Find Ramirez.”

"Yes, sir," one of the detectives answered as he and the other moved past the Captain and OJ.

Williams turned his head to address his detectives once more. “And put cuffs on every person you find! I don't care who they are, if they're here, they're either an accessory or an accomplice!"

---------

When you arrived at your brother’s apartment, Roxie ran right to you, hugging you tight. You squeezed her back, hand moving to the back of her head to gently cradle her before turning back to where Detective Carisi was standing beside Helena with a notepad.

“Y/N,” he said in a greeting, brows furrowed. You knew how much Sonny adored Rafael so this couldn’t have been easy for him either. 

“Do you know anything?” you whispered desperately as you let go of Roxie.

He shook his head. “Still taking a statement, Roxie said she just came home and Liam was alone. No sign of Barba anywhere in the apartment.” 

“He would never leave our son,” Roxie continued to repeat as if no one was listening to her.

“We know that, Rox,” you assured and laced your hand with hers, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Alright,” Carisi said, looking at Helena and then Roxie. “How long were you gone for, Roxie?” 

“The whole of the day, since this morning. I went out with my mother and then I had to work. Rafael had been with Liam, he needed to go to One Hogan Place to drop off his resignation. He left me a voicemail about half an hour before we got home,” she said, wiping tears again. “He said he and Liam had just gotten back and that he would see us soon.” She couldn't help but laugh a bit. “He wanted to know about my day.” She loved Rafael more than she could ever put into words. The idea of living without him was something she wasn’t prepared to entertain.

“This is all good Roxie,” Sonny said, offering a reassuring smile. “Any detail helps. Did you notice anything outta place when you got home? Anything knocked over? Broken?”

“No, everything was just as it should be except Liam was alone in his crib.” 

“Had there been threats by anyone lately?” Sonny asked.

“No, not that he mentioned.” Roxie shook her head, gripping your hand tighter. “He had just resigned, there were no new cases where he angered someone...no reason for anyone to be cross. Who would want to do this?” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you said softly. 

“Did you call Nevada?” Roxie asked, turning to you and not caring that Sonny was listening. “Did you ask him i-if he knew anything.”

“He’s not picking up, but I’m going to try again okay? Let’s let the police do their jobs.” You couldn't remember the last time you’d said that.

Liam started to fuss in Helena’s arms, screaming until his tiny face started to go red despite his grandmother trying to rock and calm him. 

“Roxie, why don’t you take a seat with Liam, feed him, whatever you need. I’m going to talk to Y/N and your mom,” Sonny offered. “You have all of SVU on your side, Rafael has always been and will always be family and we don’t take this lightly. We’re gonna find him.” 

Roxie nodded wanting to protest but hearing her son cry changed her mind. She took Liam into her arms and holding him tight. “It’s alright, Liam, it’s going to be okay,” she whispered, moving to the bedroom to rock him and feed him.

After Roxie was gone, Sonny turned back to you.

“Listen, off the record, okay? Any threats made on your end? Towards Rafael, I mean,” Sonny asked. 

You shook your head. “I don’t know what’s happening, Rafael hasn’t pissed anyone off recently that I know of. Unless he was hiding something. He might not tell me but he definitely would have told Roxie. If she doesn’t know, then there was nothing.”

Sonny sighed and closed his notepad. “I just had to ask. Alright, Liv’s out with Fin looking for him and Rollins is tracking his cell phone. We’re gonna find him.” He looked up just as the CSU team walked into the apartment. “Mrs. Hume can you show me to Liam’s room so these guys can dust for prints?”

Helena nodded. “Yes, yes of course, anything to help.” 

---------

Nevada checked the safety on his gun while Jasper dropped anchor before the former got into the inflatable life raft on the starboard side. He could see the yacht a mile or so in front of them and from what they could see from their distance, there didn’t appear to be anyone on deck. Jasper handed off a backpack, which Nevada carefully placed at the front of the raft while the Englishman climbed in.

"How many do you reckon are aboard?" Jasper asked as he yanked on the pull string to start the small engine.

"I don't know. Boat that size, it's gotta be at least ten, right?" Nevada answered. 

"Let's assume fifteen," Jasper muttered, steering the raft towards the large yacht.

"She packs a lot of heat, so we gotta be on point," Nevada said. 

"Just keep them off me while I plant the bomb. We'll have five minutes after I activate it to get back," Jasper replied.

Nevada knitted his brows as he took in the vessel they were headed towards. It seemed far more luxurious than anything Natalia would have, especially considering she wasn't nearly as rich as she had been when he'd first met her. In fact there was only one person he knew of that could easily afford a yacht like the one they were approaching.

"Heeley," he said, almost to himself.

"What?"

"Heeley, that motherfucker. That's gotta be how she got out, how she's been able to make moves without drawing any attention," Nevada replied. "We might get two for the price of one."

"So, twenty men aboard," Jasper mumbled as they came up to the stern and pull up next to a small boat that was tied to the yacht. Tying their raft to the larger vessel as well, they crept onboard, Jasper turning to look at Nevada. "Ten minutes, meet back here."

Nevada nodded, and the two split up, Jasper to plant his explosives in the engine room and Nevada to find Natalia. Stalking along the port side of the yacht, Nevada made his way towards the bow, gun at the ready. A movement from his left had him raising his weapon and firing off a shot, clipping the body coming out onto the deck before he took cover behind a corner as the person shot back and shouted for backup. 

Moving quickly, he fired off another round just as two more men appeared. He shot one in the throat before ducking into a cabin wall just as the second fired round after round in his direction. Waiting for the sound of empty chambers, Nevada held his position until the telltale click. He came out of his cover to shoot again, hitting the man in the chest as he stalked once more towards the bow. He knew with all the gunfire that it would only be a matter of time before more men came, but he had one purpose in that moment.

"Where are you, you fuckin' cunt?" he growled under his breath.

---------

Roxie sat down at the precinct with her son, rocking him back and forth with her arms as she tried to calm him. She had a feeling he could tell something was off. He was crying for nothing. Not for food, not to be changed, nothing. He was just crying. 

“I’m here,” she whispered. “Daddy will be home soon, alright?” 

The waiting so far had been the worst part, not knowing what had happened, wondering if he was alive or dead in a ditch somewhere. 

“As soon as Daddy is back, I’m going to take a week off and we can stay home and spend time together, alright? Just us three.” 

The baby calmed after another moment of rocking as she bounced him gently in her arms. 

“There we go,” she cooed. “All better. You don’t have to worry, Liam. Mummy is here for you. No matter what. She’s here. And daddy will be too.” 

She wasn’t lying, Rafael would be here. She knew he would. He had to be. 

“Roxie,” Olivia called as she moved out of her office and took her usual confident strides over to the British woman, pulling her into a hug. “How are you and Liam holding up?” 

Roxie hugged back. “We’re managing, please tell me you have something.” 

“Fin and I couldn’t find anything on our canvas, but Rollins traced his cell phone,” Olivia began. 

“Oh thank god, and you found him?” She jumped to conclusions too soon, desperate for any hope she could cling to.

“No, it led to a warehouse. I sent Rollins and Carisi there but it was a dead end. All they found were his wallet and phone,” Olivia said regretfully. “But that’s not gonna stop us, we’re going to find him. I have CSU combing every inch of that warehouse, if there’s any prints or anything to tell us more about who was there with him, they’ll find it.”

Roxie offered a bit of a smile. “I know you will,” she mumbled and looked down at her baby then over to where you were talking with another officer.

She watched your phone ring as you looked down at it and walked out of the room. She felt a glimmer of hope, perhaps it was Nevada calling about Rafael. It had to be.

You answered once you were a safe distance away from law enforcement, frowning down at the caller ID. It wasn’t your husband like you’d hoped, it was Sawyer.

“Sawyer?” you answered. Sawyer never called you, there was no reason to. If she was calling there had to have been something wrong. “Are you with Nevada? I can’t get a hold of him.” 

“No I’m not. I’m calling because Captain Williams came to the club,” she said in a panic before her voice lowered to a harsh whisper. “Dama, he’s looking for Nevada.”

“What?” You frowned. “Why?” 

“He’s wanting to arrest him,” she said. “He came to the club and arrested everyone, Dama. Everyone. Me, Chibby, OJ, the dancers...even the guy who refills the vending machine in the break room. I don’t know what he has on us but it’s bad. It’s really, really bad.” 

“Oh my god. Okay, has someone called Rita yet?”

“I think so, yes. They gave me one phone call and I used it to get in touch with you. I needed to warn you. If you see Nevada, tell him to stay away,” she pleaded. 

"Alright, time's up," you heard from behind her and your heart sank. Sawyer wasn’t made for prison, neither was Chibby. You felt sick to your stomach for more than one reason.

“Thank you, Sawyer, thank you,” you whispered, hanging up and trying your husband again. “Come on, come on, Nevada, dammit!”

---------

Rafael made his way to the deck of the yacht, looking around frantically for a way off the boat. There had to be a life raft somewhere, he just had to find it. Turning towards the stern, he began to look for the raft. He had heard shots from somewhere on the deck and knew he didn't have very much time before someone inevitably spotted him. With any luck it was Olivia or Carisi coming to find him.

He could just jump into the water, but with no land in sight there was no telling what might happen if he did. Then he saw it, far into the distance but there nonetheless, another boat. If he could just get to the stern without incident, he could swim to it and hope that whoever was onboard would take him to shore. Keeping low and close to the cabin wall, he made his way towards the stern. 

A figure that walked with a purpose stomped in his direction and Rafael gasped, ducking behind a wall, hand quickly reaching for the gun at his side. He looked down at the weapon to take the safety off and waited with baited breath until the footsteps came closer. As he rounded the corner and raised the gun, he was met with a familiar face.

"Nevada?!" 

His brother-in-law stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widened as he stared back. "What the fuck are you doing here, Rafa?" Nevada demanded, lowering his gun.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Rafael repeated. 

Nevada ignored the question. "Where's Natalia?"

"What?!" Rafael shook his head.

“Natalia, I know she’s here. Where the fuck is she?” 

"I don’t know, I didn’t see her. Look, it doesn't matter, let's just get outta here. Heeley is somewhere on this boat and he wants me dead."

"I want that bitch--"

"--Nevada! My son needs his father, my wife needs her husband and my sister needs hers, too. Let's go!" Rafael answered, engage the safety once again on his gun and grabbing a fistful of his brother-in-law's jacket. He pulled him towards the stern, eyes continuing to scan their path for hostiles.

Nevada clenched his jaw. His vengeance would obviously have to wait until Rafael was safely off the yacht. There wasn’t enough time to get to Natalia and save Rafael. Turning his eyes to his brother-in-law, he shook his head idly. "How the hell did you get here?"

"Heeley kidnapped me out of my apartment," Rafael answered, leg muscles burning from his pace. “I don’t remember much, he must’ve knocked me out somehow.

"It was a challenge, for certain." The sound of Heeley's voice came from behind them and the two men whipped around to face the blonde villain, who was pointing a gun at them. "Now exactly where do you think you're going, Rafael? We haven’t even had a chance to talk."

[cherryplasmids]

☆ leaving you ☆

pairing: nebula x reader fandom: marvel cinematic universe— avengers: infinity war requested:  anon—Hello there. May I request an angsty Nebula fic? Nebula lost her dear reader to the snap. The reader is the only person who makes Nebula feel like she isn’t a monster. anon—maybe part 2 of Eye Contact could take place during IW when nebula meets up with the guardians on Titian. When thanos tortures nebula he saw all of her memories and saw the reader in many of them. So when thanos goes to Titan, he recognizes the reader and tries to hurt/kill her (nebula obviously gets in the way and doesn’t let him).  notes: — i didn’t know how to go about writing the confrontation between thanos and the reader and then throwing in nebula to save the day, so i opted out and just did the snap scene.  —check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

          Everyone looks around, observing their company and surroundings. Just seconds before, chaos had occurred with everyone doing their part in trying to defeat the Mad Titan. It would have worked, but Thanos got out by the skin of his teeth and you had Quill to blame. Although there’s an extremely, overwhelming part of you that wants to lash out on your captain, you can’t.  It didn’t matter anymore.

Thanos had the 5 of the 6 stones—that alone makes him invincible.

Now, everything is silent. No planets being thrown, blood being spilled, and no anger being directed at the purple thumb. It’s silent, eerie, and completely unsettling. The dejection the scenario had caused just destroys any type of hope.

“What’s going to happen now?” You whisper, not loud enough for anyone to really hear. Nebula looks at you, letting you know that she heard your words. “Nebula, what will happen now?”

Nebula’s lips set into a straight line and reach out for your hands. She grasps both of them but remains silent.

“Nebula?”

Just as you were going to press on, Mantis speaks, fear lacing her words. “Something’s happening.” Within a few seconds of her speaking, she dissolves into ash, dissipating into the air.

A loud gasp emits from your lips, hands flying from Nebula’s to cover your mouth. A step forward, then a step back, your footing remains indecisive. Again, everyone looks around.

“Quill?” Drax sighs gently before he dissolves as well.

There’s silent panic on Quill’s face and you reach out to him—attempting to comfort him. His hands grasp on your elbow, his feet taking a step toward you. But how exactly do you comfort someone in a situation like this? After all, you were both hurting. Mantis became a naive sister to you and Drax unofficially adopted you as his niece. But tears didn’t come to your eyes, just dry sadness that couldn’t even be displayed properly.

“Steady, Quill,” Tony says firmly.

Quill simply looks at you, tiredness simmering onto his expression. “Oh man.”

Dr. Strange starts to say something, but it sounded like ringing in your ears. With your jaw-dropped, you stared at the ashes of Quill in terror. It seemed even more real now since he had just disappeared in your arms. It meant death is certain.

You spin around, tears pricking your eyes as you see Tony speaking to the young boy he brought along. Parker’s timer ticked down slowly, but that did not reassure you. You felt it, the impending doom in the pit of your stomach.

“Nebula!” You run to her, slamming straight into her chest.

She’s steady, holding you close and breathing your scent in as if it would be the very last time.

“I can’t go, Nebula. Please, I can’t” Tears flowed freely now—the complete heartbreak of this situation eating you alive. “I can’t leave you, baby. I just can’t.”

You crumble to your knees, sobbing loud and hard. Nebula, brings your down, laying you on your back just like Tony did to Peter.

“I love you, Nebs.” You choke out while reaching up to cup her cheeks. “I’m so sorry I’m leaving now.”

She’s shaking her head, jaw clenching and lips firmly sealed. “You’re not going.”

You just smile in return.  It’s something you’ve always done when faced with difficult situations, even the ones directly making you hurt. Prior to today, it used to infuriate her because she couldn’t understand why you shrug off any emotional or mental trauma. But for some reason, today, it makes her heart hurt.

“You’re not spare parts, Nebs—just my whole heart.”

Nebula leans down, capturing your lips in a final kiss. It’s nothing crazy, a chaste kiss filled with goodbyes and tears.

And before she knows it, you disappear. The only remnants of you ever being there would be your ashes on Nebula’s lips.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 641 published: april 22, 2019 edited: n/a

[cheekaspbrak]

Tiny Blood Vessels

Edit: I uploaded this when I was exhausted last night and like an idiot I forgot to italicize everything I had italicized in google docs and completely forgot to add a trigger warning, oops.

Summary: Richie always knew his mom didn’t like him very much, but not like this. When Richie felt like shit, he knew there was only one person who could make him feel better.

Word Count: 1313

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: Quite a bit of cursing, abuse

I love the “sneaking in through the window” cliche more than I can bear, so of course I had to write a short fic about it. I am super nervous about writing these two cuties so I hope I did okay. I love requests, compliments, and criticisms so message me anytime!

    Eddie was used to the silence that overcame his house at night, but it was still something that kept him awake until late. For some reason, the complete lack of sound made it difficult for him to fall asleep, and maybe it was because it made the house seem eery and dangerous, or maybe it was because he was so used to Richie’s constant talking all day long. Either way, his mom wouldn’t let him put a TV in his room or even a radio because “lack of sleep is unhealthy and can lead to you getting sick, Eddie-bear.” Eddie groaned and rolled over in his bed.

    Tap, tap, tap. He recognized the sound at his bedroom window instantly, eyes shooting open. Tap tap taptaptaptappatpaptaptpap-

    “Fuck!” Eddie said, a little too loud in the still, quiet air of his room. “I’m coming, Jesus.”

    He slipped out of bed and walked over to his window that had his best friend, Richie Tozier, just outside of it. He instantly opened the window and Richie scrambled in, leg dragging over the edge of the windowsill like he didn’t know how to use his limbs. Honestly, he really didn’t. He had grown so fast recently that he was still getting used to his newfound height. Eddie huffed when Richie was able to stand up in front of him, much taller. Why did he get to grow so much and Eddie was stuck in his pint-sized body? He looked at the taller boy with annoyed, furrowed eyebrows.

    “What do you want?” He sighed, unable to see the boys usual goofy expression in the dim light.

    “I’m sorry,” was all Richie said in response, his voice cracking a little at the end. He shifted to sit down on Eddie’s bed, moonlight spreading over his face. Eddie realized that he was not his normal, silly self but rather sullen instead. He wasn’t looking at Eddie, focusing on something across the room, and his eyelashes were stuck together with tears. Richie drew in a long, shaky breath.

    As close as they were, Eddie had only seen him cry once before, when Stan had called him annoying one too many times in a row. They had been walking through the woods, on an adventure of some sort, when Eddie turned around and realized Richie was gone. He hadn’t even made a sound or snide comment, he just disappeared. When he found him, he was sitting with his back pressed against a large boulder and the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. Eddie crouched next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and Richie started mumbling about how he was so annoying and pretty soon no one would want to be around him. Eddie told him to quit being a dumbass because everyone in the group loved him and that was enough to make Richie smile.

    This, though, was different. Richie looked like he was on another planet; he hardly seemed to notice when Eddie sat down next to him.

    “What happened, Rich?” His voice was so soft, and Richie stayed still for so long he wasn’t sure he had heard it. But then fresh tears started to flow from his eyes and he looked at Eddie for the first time.

    “I….I don’t know,” The sob that came out of his throat made Eddie’s heart break into a million tiny pieces. He reached over to click on the small light that sat on his nightstand.

    That was when he saw the bruise blooming over his left cheek, purple already. Eddie knew that bruises were caused from blood vessels breaking underneath the skin and that meant someone had hit Richie, hard enough to cover nearly half his cheek in tiny, broken blood vessels. Without even thinking, his hand jumped up to hold his cheek. Richie’s lips curled down against his will, a strangled noise in his throat as he tried to stop himself from crying.

    “Eds-”

    “You can cry,” Somehow Eddie knew that was the right thing to say, and the floodgates opened. Sobs moved his body and he curled towards Eddie, his hand finding the other boys shirt and holding on for dear life. The smaller boys hands covered his.

    “Hey,” he whispered. “You can stay the night.”

    Richie, as though he had been waiting for this, unbuttoned his uncomfortable jeans and tugged them off, sliding under Eddie’s sheets. Looking down at him, Eddie felt his stomach twist. He knew that this friendship had gone far beyond a friendship, and sleeping in each others beds? That seemed like it was one step too far, but Richie looked so helpless, laying on his side with his curls flying every which way. Eddie climbed back into bed after turning off the light.

    “What happened?” He asked again, facing his freckled friend. He felt long fingers grab onto his, squeezing.

    “I don’t know,” he answered for the second time, but continued. “My mom...she was mad at me again. As usual. But then- then she started saying all this shit about how I should’ve been a girl. That I probably would’ve been quieter or something. And… it hurt so I said some shitty comment back. And she hit me. Like, really fucking hit me.”

    Richie talked slow, like he was telling the story as it happened. Eddie could feel his hands shake when Richie’s eyes met his. He was crying again and Eddie just wanted to make it stop.

    “She didn’t even open-hand slap me. She punched me.” He still looked like he was in shock. He flinched a bit when Eddie’s fingertips brushed over the bruise on his cheek and he curled in on himself. Eddie’s hand instead settled on the side of his neck, the thumb stroking over his cool skin. Richie’s breathing started to become sharp and jagged and Eddie shoved his curly head underneath his chin until he could feel his nose bump up against his collarbone. Eddie felt like he was going to fucking die being so close to Richie like this but also from hearing his sobs as he pressed his face further into his neck.

    “Rich…” he trailed off. He had no words for a situation like this.

    “Please tell me you won’t ever leave me because I….I talk too much.”

    Both of their breathing stopped. A million things raced through Eddie’s mind while he was staring straight ahead with his hand holding Richie’s head in place.

    “'Chee, oh my god,” He paused and laughed. “Richie there is nothing I enjoy more than hearing your voice constantly buzz in my ear. I never want you to shut up, even when I tell you I want you to shut up. Please, don’t ever shut up.”

    Richie moved against him, tousled head of curls rising to reveal brown, wide eyes. Eddie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he saw the all-too-familiar grin on his face. For a few seconds, a thick feeling settled in the air around them. It was sweet, and timid, and gentle, and Eddie wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever but simultaneously wanted it to go away. He looked at Richie’s lips and thought oh, fuck before moving closer, briefly surprised to see Richie moving closer too, and connected their lips. It was a very quick kiss compared to all the ones he’d seen in movies, but the way Richie giggled told him it wasn’t a bad one.

    “I fucking love your laugh, you absolute dork.” Eddie whispered as he pressed a kiss to said dorks soft hair.

    “I fucking love you.” He returned, moving impossibly closer. Eddie only hummed in response, wrapping his arms entirely around his lanky lover, and squeezed him tight.

    Eddie had never slept more soundly. The gentle murmurs Richie made in his sleep made his room feel like a much more comforting place.

[crew-of-the-detz]

Intelligent Intimidation

(Sorry for the content drought, but I do have some more stuff planned, enjoy!)

It's no secret that Burso love to fight. And they way they fight is to strike fear into the heart before striking with any weapon.

The Burso had gathered around the complex, the only Human presence left on the planet. All the Burso warriors in the sector saw the two ships break atmosphere and land at the previously undiscovered complex. The war chief walked to the front of the formation and shouted out. "KRIIIIYAAAAAAAAA"

The after his shout, the valley shook, the metal walls of the complex reverberated, the terrifying singular shout rang out from thousands of voices unified into one voice.

"KRIIIIIIYAAAAAAAA!"

An eerie silence held the valley, the birds had stopped singing, and the Burso warriors listened. Listened for any sound of fear or opposition.

Slowly, quietly, the sounds of drums started to emanate from inside the complex. Solid, strong, drumbeats, that spread. One drum became five, five became ten, ten became hundreds, hundreds became thousands!

Then from the drumbeats came warcries. Human warcries; promises of a messy death, no mercy, and love for battle. The valley shook again, more so this time but the Humans did not relent. Instead of one unified voice it was a million voices each crying out their destructive promises to the enemy. It was enough to nearly deafen the Burso.

Its no secret that Burso love to fight, but they're not stupid about it. They backed down, retreated a ways, and waited for reinforcements before storming the complex.

The Humans that day were saved, not by their numbers, but by their wit. For they were not a million strong, but four.

About an hour earlier....

Four Humans locked up in the control room of the complex, two soldiers, an officer, and a tied up pirate.

The pirate spoke first, "Okay, just untie me. I can think something up but I'm gonna need to look through that computer."

One of the soldiers gave him a nasty look, "Nice try snake. You're the reason we're in this mess. If you had just surrendered and not lead us on that chase out here we wouldn't be in an active war zone..."

The pirate raised his hands, "Yeah yeah I get it I [REDACTED] up. But listen, I might be able to find a way to avoid being Burso food."

The soldiers looked at the officer, the Burso had not yet fully encompassed the complex yet, but there were already a hundred or so. The officer approached the Pirate, her battle hardened face had seen his kind several times before. Lying deceptive snakes out for no one but themselves. But she also knew that if these snakes were cornered they could be the most cunning creatures in the universe. She took a blade and cut his hands free, "Get to work. But cross us again and I'll promise I'll give you something worse than the Burso."

The pirate immediately jumped up and moved to the main console, typing with the speed of a desperate man. "O-okay. This facility has a series of speakers for intercoms and announcements and the like so... okay... Okay! They can be controlled from here. Now, if this is just a standard computer it should have audio software... oh thank God. Okay, I have an idea." He turned to the two soldiers. "Take off your armor, quickly!" The officer nodded and the two soldiers stripped out of their armor. "Now, a knife." The officer handed him hers and he cut the balistic plates out of the armor and tapped on them, they were loud when hit. He handed the soldiers and officers plates and grabbed a microphone, "Okay, hit them like this."

Bum, bahbahbum

The officer and two soldiers followed his example. "Okay, okay good! Now I'm gonna count down from three with my fingers before hitting record. He counted to three, the all in unison: Bum, bahbahbum

They had drums. "Okay, now we duplicate that like... thousand times. Now, lets scream out heads off." He put the microphone in front of one of the soldiers, "Gimmie youre scariest war cry brother."

He counted down from three and then from the soldiers erupted. "KILL EM ALL! FIGHT, KILL, DEEEAAATH!"

The pirate shuddered, "good one," he gave the microphone to the second soldier, "your turn."

He counted down again and the second soldier threw his head back, "YEEEEEAAAAAH, IM GONNA RIP YOUR SCALEY [REDACTED] HEADS OFF!"

The pirate was smiling now, he presented the microphone to the officer. "Ma'am?"

The officer grabbed the microphone and slammed the record button herself, "RIP, TEAR, BLOOD, GUTS! NOT ONE OF YOU WILL SURVIVE THIS!"

This went on for half an hour, them all adding different war cries. Then, the pirate sat at the computer and edited the audio files, layering tracks, amplifying to make 4 voices millions. Then it happened,

"KRIIIIIIYAAAAAAAA!"

The four humans were mortified, but the pirate gave a chuckle to hide his anxiety and added. "Well... here goes nothing." He cranked the volume up max and hit play.

The battle medley he had composed blared through the complex, so loud they had to cover their ears and sit in silence. The track completed and anxiously all four watched the camera monitor to see what would happen. Then the impossible happened, the Burso backed down and retreated. All four shouted and jumped and hugged.

The officer grabbed the pirate and kissed him, then realizing what she had done, released him embarrassed. "Uhm. Uh, you're still under arrest." The soldiers just stared at the ground, "Well? Take him to the ship! They'll come back and we dont want to be here when they do." They loaded him up and took him away.

He got 2 years of his 30 year sentence. Sometimes the officer visits him, and there are rumors he might get out with good bahavior. He is a hero after all.

[mightystargazer]

2018 Readinglist

Drew Hayes Bloody Acquisitions

Drew Hayes The Fangs of Freelance Fred

Drew Hayes Second Hand Curses

Gregg Hurwitz The Rains

Gregg Hurwitz Last Chance

Dean Koontz Oddkins

David Timson Ghost Stories of an Antiquary

Kay Hooper Stealing Shadows

Kay Hooper Hiding In Shadows

Kay Hooper Out of Shadows

Kay Hooper Touching Evil

Kay Hooper Whisper of Evil

Kay Hooper Sense of Evil

Kay Hooper Hunting Fear

Kay Hooper Chill of Fear

Kay Hooper Sleeping with Fear

Kay Hooper Blood Dream

Kay Hooper Blood Sins

Kay Hooper Blood Ties

Kay Hooper Haven

Kay Hooper Hostage

Kay Hooper Haunted

Kay Hooper Fear the Dark

Kay Hooper Wait for Dark

Hunter Shea The Jersey Devil

Matt Haig The Humans

Terry Goodkind Nest

John G. Hartness Cold as Ice

John G. Hartness Into the Mystic

John Conroe God Touched

John Conroe Demon Driven

John Conroe Brutal Asset

John Conroe Black Frost

John Conroe Duel Nature

John Conroe Fallen Stars

John Conroe Executable

John Conroe Forced Ascent

John Conroe College Arcane

John Conroe God Hammer 

John Conroe Rogues

John Conroe Snake Eyes

John Conroe Winterfall

Bentley Little The House

Terry Goodkind Nest

Stephen Blackmoore Dead Things

Stephen Blackmoore Broken Souls

Stephen Blackmoore Hungry Ghosts

Peter Cawdron Alien Space Tentacle Porn

A. American Hope

Dean Koonz Richochet Joe

Sarah Lyons Fleming Until the End of the World

Sarah Lyons Fleming So Long Lollipops

Sarah Lyons Fleming And After

Sarah Lyons Fleming All the Stars in the Sky

Robert Bevan Critical Failures V

Perrin Briar Genesis Flowers

Larry Correia The Adventures of Tom Stranger

Larry Correia A Murder of Manatees

J. R. Ward Covet 

J. R. Ward Crave

J. R. Ward Envy

J. R. Ward Rapture

J. R. Ward Possession

J. R. Ward Immortal

Milo James Fowler Captain Bartholomew Quasar

James Smythe The Echo

Ian Tregillis The Mechanical

Ian Tregillis The Rising

Ian Tregillis The Liberation

Harvard Lampoon Bored of the Rings

Barry J. Hutchison Return of the Dead Guy 

Mark Tufo Demon Fallout

Mark Tufo Defeat's Victory 

Morgan Hobbes The Totally True Adventures of Gustav Gustavson

Barry J. Hutchison Dial D for Deadman

Christopher Moore Practical Demonkeeping

Christopher Moore Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove

Christopher Moore The Stupidest Angel

Richard Johnson Weekend at Vidu's

Brian Keene The Rising

Brian Keene City of the Dead

Daniel Fite The Zombie Chapters

Edward Zajac A Swift Kick in the Asteroids

Donald E. Westlake The Busy Body

Dean Koontz The Whispering Room

Christopher Moore Bloodsucking Fiends

Christopher Moore You Suck

Christopher Moore Bite Me

Sue Perkins Zoopedia

Anthology Zombies, The Recent Dead 

Anthology Zombies, More Recent Dead 

Brett J. Talley That Which Should Not Be

Christopher Moore A Dirty Job

Christopher Moore Secondhand Souls

Christopher Moore Coyote Blue

Al K. Line Hidden Spark 

Al K. Line Dead Spark 

Al K. Line Wild Spark 

Kim Stanley Robinson Icehenge

Bentley Little The Mailman

Zach Bohannon Empty Bodies

James Peters Black Swan Planet

Peter Meredith The Edge of Hell

Peter Meredith The Edge of Temptation

Gerry Griffiths The Beasts of Stoneclad Mountain

Christopher Moore Fluke Or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings

C.G. Mosley The Island in the Mist

C.G. Mosley Monsters in the Mist

Russell James Cavern of the Damned

Mike Bockoven FantasticLand

Michael  McBride Snowblind

Michael  McBride The Killing Grounds

Kevin Hearne Scourged

E.F. Benson's Ghost Stories

Donnie Eichar Dead Mountain

Corey Taylor A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Heaven

Viktor Zarkov Megatooth

Steven Bird Erebus

Robert Bevan 5d6 Caverns and Creatures

Richard Kadrey Suspect Zero

Keith C. Blackmore Mountain Man Prequel

Dave Jeffery Frostbite

Christopher Moore Fool

Christopher Moore The Serpent of Venice

Seth Shostak Confessions of an Alien Hunter

P. K. Hawkins Titanoboa

Matt Serafini Island Red

Christopher Moore Island of the Sequined Love Nun

Ambrose Ibsen Asylum

Ambrose Ibsen Forest

Ambrose Ibsen The Occupant

Lucas Pederson Leviathan Ghost Rig

Kara Cooney The Woman Who Would Be King

Jonathan Maberry Mars One

John J. Rust Reptilian

Greig Beck Beneath the Dark Ice

Greig Beck Dark Rising

Greig Beck This Green Hell

Greig Beck Black Mountain

Greig Beck Gorgon

Greig Beck Hammer of God

Greig Beck Kraken Rising

Michelle McNamara Ill Be Gone in the Dark

Stephen R Donaldson The Kings Justice

Jerry Dubs Imhotep

Christopher Moore Lamb The Gospel

Barry J. Hutchison Planet of the Japes´

Bentley Little The ignored

Marty Essen Time Is Irreverent

Thomas Tryon Harvest Home

Dean Koontz The Bone Farm

Dean Koontz The Crooked Staircase

Christopher Moore Sacre Bleu

Benjamin Wallace Junkers

Alex Laybourne Terror from the Deep

Christopher Golden Ararat

Alice Hoffman The Museum of Extraordinary Things

Jim Butcher Storm Front

Jim Butcher Fool Moon

Jim Butcher Grave Peril

Jim Butcher Summer Knight

Jim Butcher Death Masks

Jim Butcher Blood Rites

Jim Butcher Bombshells

Jim Butcher Proven Guilty

Jim Butcher White Night

Jim Butcher Small Favor

Jim Butcher Backup

Jim Butcher Turn Coat

Jim Butcher Changes

Jim Butcher Ghost Story

Jim Butcher Cold Days

Jim Butcher Shadowed Souls

Jim Butcher Skin Game

Jim Butcher White Night

Jim Butcher Working for Bigfoot

Stephen King The Outsider

The World of Lore Wicked Mortals

Hugh Howey I, Zombie

C. Gockel Archangel Down

C. Gockel Noa's Ark

C. Gockel Heretic

Anthology Aliens Bug Hunt

Shea Ernshaw The Wicked Deep

John F.D. Taff The Bell Witch

Adrienne Lecter Incubation

Adrienne Lecter Outbreak

Adrienne Lecter Escalation

Adrienne Lecter Extinction

Adrienne Lecter Resurgence

Adrienne Lecter Unity

Adrienne Lecter Affliction

Adrienne Lecter Catharsis

Barry J. Hutchison The Time Titan of Tomorrow

The Cabin at the End of the World

Chuck Wendig The Blue Blazes

Larry Correia Saints 

Dirk Patton Voodoo Plague

Dirk Patton Crucifixion V Plague

John Connolly Every Dead Thing

John Connolly Dark Hollow

John Connolly The Killing Kind

John Connolly The White Road

John Connolly The Black Angel

John Connolly The Unquiet

John Connolly The Reapers

John Connolly The Lovers

John Connolly The Whisperers

John Connolly The Burning Soul

John Connolly The Wrath of Angels

John Connolly The Wolf In Winter

John Connolly A Song of Shadow

John Connolly A Time Of Torment

John Connolly A Game of Ghosts

Barry J. Hutchison The King of Space Must Die

Dave Itzkoff Robin

Greig Beck The Void

Jim Butcher Furies of Calderon

Jim Butcher Academs Fury

Jim Butcher Cursors Fury

Jim Butcher Captains Fury

Jim Butcher Princeps Fury

Jim Butcher First Lords Fury

Mark Tufo Etna Station

Bentley Little The Resort

Rebecca Roanhorse Trail of Lightning

Michael Rutger The Anomaly

Scott Smith The Ruins

Zach Bohannon Empty Bodies

Zach Bohannon Adaptation 

Zach Bohannon Deliverance

Zach Bohannon Open Roads

Zach Bohannon Damnation

Zach Bohannon Revelation

Stevens, Marc First of my Kind, 2nd Edition

Peter Clines The Eerie Adventures of the Lycanthrope Robinson Crusoe

Nathan Hystad The Event

Michael Crichton Next

Graeme Reynolds High Moor

Graeme Reynolds Moonstruck

Jim C. Hines Janitors Of The Post Apocalypse

Thomas Sweterlitsch The Gone World

Michael McBride Subhuman

Jeremy Robinson The Others

Jeremy Bishop The Sentinel

James D. Prescott Extinction Code

Alan Dean Foster Relic

Bobby Adair Dusty's Diary

Adam Cesare The Con Season

Richard Kadrey Hollywood Dead

Margaret Atwood Angel Catbird

Bethany Blake Death by Chocolate Lab

Bethany Blake Dial Meow for Murder

Bethany Blake Pawprints & Predicaments

Jeff Strand The Haunted Forest Tour

Adam Cesare Tribesmen

Adrienne Lecter Exodus

Ted Dekker The Bride Collector

T.W. Piperbrook The Last Survivors

T.W. Piperbrook The Last Escape

T.W. Piperbrook The Last Humanity

T.W. Piperbrook The Last Command

T.W. Piperbrook The Last Refuge

T.W. Piperbrook The Last Conquest

T.W. Piperbrook The Ruins 1

T.W. Piperbrook The Ruins 2

T.W. Piperbrook The Ruins 3

T.W. Piperbrook The Ruins 4

T.W. Piperbrook Outage 1

T.W. Piperbrook Outage 2

T.W. Piperbrook Outage 3

T.W. Piperbrook The Reckoning

Bobby Adair Zero Day

Bobby Adair Infected

Bobby Adair Destroyer

Bobby Adair Dead Fire

Bobby Adair Torrent

Bobby Adair Bleed

Bobby Adair City of Stin

Bobby Adair Grind

Bobby Adair Sanctum

Tony Peak Signal

Steven Brust Good Guys

Stephen King & Bev Vincent Flight or Fright

Myke Cole Control Point

Myke Cole Fortress Frontier

Myke Cole Breach Zone

Graeme Reynolds Blood Moon

Michael Hodges The Invasive

Jeff Strand Dead Clown Barbecue

Echoes of Evil

Dean Koontz The Forbidden Door

James D. Prescott Extinction Countdown

Sam Sykes Humane Killer

Dan Simmons Summer of Night

Dan Simmons Children of the Night

Dan Simmons A Winter Haunting

Myke Cole Gemini Cell

Myke Cole Javelin Rain

Myke Cole Siege Line

Adam Cesare Video Night 

Deborah Sheldon Devil Dragon

Peter Meredith Generation Z

Peter Meredith The Queen of the Dead

Peter Meredith The Queen of War

Tim Powers Alternate Routes

Richard Roberts I Did NOT Give That Spider Superhuman Intelligence!

Richard Roberts Please Dont Tell My Parents Im a Supervillain

Richard Roberts Please Don't Tell My Parents I Blew Up the Moon

Richard Roberts Please Don't Tell My Parents I've Got Henchmen

Richard Roberts Please Don't Tell My Parents I Have a Nemesis

Richard Roberts Please Don't Tell My Parents You Believe Her

Michael McDowell BlackWater

Hunter Shea Mail Order Massacres

Jeff Strand Dweller 

Adam Cesare Zero Lives Remaining

Ezekiel Boone Zero Day

Ted Kosmatka Prophet of Bones

Steven L. Kent 100 Fathoms Below

Keith C. Blackmore The Missing Boatman

John Connolly Bad Men

Jeremy Robinson Forbidden Island

Chuck Wendig Under the Empyrean Sky

Chuck Wendig Blightborn

Chuck Wendig The Harvest

Shingles Audio Collection

Robert E. Howard The Horror Stories of Robert E. Howard

Paul E. Cooley The Black

Paul E. Cooley Arrival

Paul E. Cooley Outbreak

M.R. Forbes Forgotten

M.R. Forbes Forsaken

M.R. Forbes Unforgiven

Jeremy  Robinson Kronos

Jeff Strand I Have a Bad Feeling about This

Mark Tufo Whistlers

Mark Tufo Atlantis

Mark Tufo Convergence

Mark Tufo Valhalla

Laurie Forest The Black Witch

Simon R. Green

Simon R. Green Man with the Golden Torc

Simon R. Green Daemons are Forever

Simon R. Green The Spy Who Haunted Me

Simon R. Green From Hell With Love

Simon R. Green For Heaven's Eyes Only

Simon R. Green Live and Let Drood

Simon R. Green Casino Infernale

Simon R. Green Property of a Lady Faire

Simon R. Green From a Drood to a Kill

Simon R. Green Dr. DOA

Simon R. Green Moonbreaker

Simon R. Green Night Fall

Rob Dircks You're Going to Mars!

Stephen King Elevation  

Drew Hayes Pears and Perils

Alma Katsu The Hunger 

Hunter Shea One Size Eats All

Joseph Fink Alice Isn't Dead

Jonathan Mayberry Glimpse

Jack Ketchum Off Season

Jack Ketchum Offspring

Jack Ketchum The Woman

Chuck Wendig The Blue Blazes

Bobby Akart Yellowstone Hellfire

Bobby Akart Yellowstone Inferno

Laurie Forest wandfasted

Greig Beck Abyss

Barry J. Hutchison Dial D for Deadman

Barry J. Hutchison Dead Inside

Barry J. Hutchison Dead in the Water

[pcttersjames]

ghost. ( REMUS LUPIN )

note: if you couldn’t tell, i really enjoy writing angst. also! i had written this for an assignment a while back except no one ever read it so i edited it for pronouns and such along with some physical descriptions and here it is!

word count: 1,366

summary: the ghost of him still haunts you to this day. 

warnings: ANGST, unrequited love, major character death. 

IT WAS A DARK NIGHT. You could remember the lamppost, its warm glow that seemed to light up the falling snowflakes. You watched from the window above, my fingers itching to touch the ground - to feel the cold slide up your fingers until they numb. But then you saw him. And how he stood, leaning against the metal, illuminated by the light in the darkness. His hood shielding the world from your face and boots caked in snow.

You remembered how he stared into the night, worries and sorrows slipping out of his mind and dancing away with the wind. The only memories worthy of such a brain were the ones that he shared with the people he loved deeply.

But you could see him shivering, jacket thin and worn with the threads poking out every which way. The brisk and frigid air had blown down from the mountains; for once you were glad you were inside. Why? Why had he not brought a warmer coat? Was there a reason? Or did he just grab the closest item of clothing before leaving wherever he came from?

You remembered him, and how he never noticed you, and how your gaze had never left his figure. You remembered how you almost ran outside to ask if he was alright. You remembered how it would’ve been foolish if you had done so.

You remembered all of this until you blinked and he was gone, gone, gone.

You remembered how he was just a figment of your imagination.

The way you felt when you stared into the dark abyss the next night had set a spark of joy inside your bitter heart. The stars seemed to shine for only the ones who took note and saw their true beauty, how they lit up the night sky in it’s darkest times. The expanse went on for miles and miles and miles and it never stopped.

As you gazed upon the brilliant sky, a few words escaped your lips, “you never cease, do you?”

You wondered if he was watching that night.

You saw him again, at the lamppost. It was almost strange like you were experiencing a form of deja vu. It was raining. You thought he liked sad weather. You were sorry for whatever may have caused his misfortune, his shaking form wasn’t from the cold, but instead from the sobs that escaped his lips and tear ducts.

You remembered how you wanted to wrap a blanket around him and pull him into a comforting hug, the kind in which both persons feel only warmth and their hearts are pieced back together through the contact. Those are the best kind, you wished to feel one again.

Sadly, you were behind the window, and he was under the post.

The rain slapped the window pane, you were once again trapped in the dark house complete with the dark weather and dark residents. The silence was eerie, almost like it would creep up on you like a monster and snatch you into one of the dark corners of your bedroom.

He was there, but instead of being outside like he normally was, he was with me. For an odd reason, you disliked the small space that you come to call your room more than usual. Maybe it was because of the weather, but you had sat in this same exact spot numerous times before in this condition. So why now?

You sat in the rocking chair, it’s old and rickety frame barely holding your weight. The many people that it had held and cared for sat upon its head like a cape. The arms embraced you in a way no other had managed to hug. But the comfort of the chair had not concealed you completely.

He had only been sitting feet away, stiff against the mattress of your bed. He sat cross-legged. His once amber eyes had become a blank void; brown hair matted and greasy. The skin along his cheeks and the rest of him were gruesome: a pale white that reminded you of the snow that had blanketed the town only days ago. The bones that jutted out his face and elbows and knees made you scared to look. Scars that were vibrant and stuck out against his features long ago had faded into his skin. And oh, how the deprivation of sleep shone under his eyes. Your heart ached for the forgiveness that you could never give him.

He didn’t speak or even acknowledge your presence. You've never heard or seen him speak any time before, so it wasn’t odd that he wasn't then. And since he didn’t, you didn’t either.

Maybe it would’ve been better if you had spoken. Maybe he would’ve responded. But alas, you would never get to find out the answer you had been seeking.

His arms were fading, fading, fading.

You think of him and you am once again whole. You don’t want to be whole. You can’t be whole. You have to fade into the light that everyone gets to experience but you.

Why must the thunderstorm bring such horror to young ones? You watched as a younger form of him wept into his knees. Lightning flashed in the window and he jumped. You wanted to protect him. Sadly your feet were glued to the ground, all you could do was stare.

You bet his heart ached for your comfort.

A wave of thunder roared, the noise echoing in your ears and his, you saw his arms wrap around his legs even tighter.

You were so sorry that no one was there to tell him it was okay.

He loved the sun and it loved him all the same. The warmth jumped from object to object, one natural entity to another, making sure everything could enjoy the pleasure. The frigid water lapped around his feet; a cooling sensation ran through his body. He breathed in the fresh air - free of any pollution and odd contaminants humans had brought to the Earth. His heartbeat was steady. Tranquility swam through the scene. Everything was still, like a photograph frozen in time.

You closed your eyes and when you opened them everything had dissipated. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. 

The foggy landscape acted like a ghost. Withering around as it haunted every soul. For some reason, people here seemed to like the weather, you did too. You never knew why though, it was possible that you felt a connection between yourself and the ghostly fog.

The temperature was pleasant as it could be in such times. With Autumn slowly moving out, Winter was soon to be the new resident. This was when people leaped out of their homes and spent every second that they could outside, a desire to treasure the last moments of slight warmth in their minds.

For you, it was the enjoyment of watching them flounce around at the park that you could see from your window or just plainly walking down the sidewalk. You found it soothing to know there were people who could love the odd weather.

You wished he was there to live it too. 

Slowly and slowly, you found him fading away. And at the same time, you did too. Day by day the skin around your bones deteriorated in color and warmth (not like it had much to begin with). The chains that kept you latched to this planet losing to the point it was just a pull away from falling off completely.

One day, he stopped visiting.

Winter was at a standstill. No movement, no noise, nothing. As though all the organisms on Earth had vanished into thin air.

He approached me, with his dreary appearance and lifeless eyes and a starless, midnight sky underneath those eyes.

That was when he surprised you.

He smiled. A real smile, though it showed no teeth you could tell. Your heart fluttered with joy at the simple and brief action. Your room was brighter than usual and he was too. You were so ecstatic you could leap for joy and never come back down you were so high up.

Then he kissed your cheek goodbye. 

[son-of-alderaan]

The Fate of ‘The Last Jedi’ Is in His Hands

NICASIO, Calif. — Skywalker Ranch, the 5,000-acre spread that George Lucas established here in Marin County, is hardly a shrine to the “Star Wars” movies; the quiet campus has no giant Yoda statue or Death Star murals. If you weren’t looking carefully, you might have missed Rian Johnson, the director and writer of “Star Wars: The Last Jedi” (due Dec. 15), having breakfast in a guesthouse on a recent August morning.

Mr. Johnson has established his genre bona fides as the writer-director of the time-traveling neo-noir “Looper,” and as a director of TV shows like “Breaking Bad.”Now, he is picking up the baton from J. J. Abrams, who reinvigorated the “Star Wars” universe with “The Force Awakens.” That wildly successful 2015 film — the seventh chapter of the galactic saga — began a new adventure for Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) and Princess (now General) Leia (Carrie Fisher) and introduced the enigmatic Rey (Daisy Ridley) and her sullen nemesis, Kylo Ren (Adam Driver).

“Star Wars” is a gargantuan franchise, and Mr. Johnson, 43, is a soft-spoken, unassuming man. But right now its destiny lies in his hands, and he said he was free to make the movie he wanted. No requirements were imposed by Mr. Abrams or Kathleen Kennedy, the Lucasfilm president, who did not hesitate to call for significant changes on the stand-alone “Rogue One,” the coming Han Solo film and “Star Wars: Episode IX.”

On a break from finishing the sound edit for the movie, Mr. Johnson spoke about the making of “The Last Jedi,” “Star Wars” characters new and old, and Ms. Fisher’s death in December. Here are edited excerpts from that conversation.

How important were the original “Star Wars” films for you?

“Star Wars” was everything for me. As a little kid, you get to see the movies only once or twice, but playing with the toys in your backyard, that’s where you’re first telling stories in your head. It was so emotional to step onto the Millennium Falcon set, because that was the play set we all had when we were kids. Suddenly, you were standing in the real thing. There’s this rush of unreality about it.

How did you learn you were being considered to write and direct a new “Star Wars” film?

It was really, really out of the blue. I had a few general meetings with Kathy Kennedy when she took over Lucasfilm. I never thought I was actually in the running, because I assumed every director on the planet would want to be doing a “Star Wars” movie. And then it was sprung on me. It was like a bomb dropped. I suddenly realized, Oh, this meeting is about this. I didn’t try to hide the fact that I was freaking out. But I also said, “Can I think about it?”

Why the hesitation?

After “Looper,” I had been approached with other franchise stuff and gotten used to saying no. And I knew this would mean so much to me — the worst thing I can imagine is having a bad experience making a “Star Wars” movie.

Do you think Ms. Kennedy was surprised you didn’t accept immediately?

She was slightly confused, I think. The next few days, I couldn’t sleep. I thought I was going to do a pros-and-cons list, but the truth is, it was more a decision from the heart. There was no way I could not do this.

How much of the story of “The Last Jedi” was dictated to you, either by events in “The Force Awakens” or by Lucasfilm?

I had figured there would be a big map on the wall with the whole story laid out, and it was not that at all. I was basically given the script for “Episode VII;” I got to watch dailies of what J. J. was doing. And it was like, where do we go from here? That was awesome.

So there’s no one telling you that your film has to contain certain plot points, or that certain things have to be achieved by its end?

Nothing like that. But it’s the second film in a trilogy. The first film got these characters here. This second movie has to dig into and challenge these characters. I wanted this to be a satisfying experience unto itself. I didn’t want it to end with a dot, dot, dot, question mark.

What inspiration did you draw from the raw footage of “The Force Awakens”?

Rey and Kylo are almost two halves of our protagonist. It’s not like Kylo is our Vader. In the original trilogy, Vader is the father — he’s the one you’re afraid of and who you want the approval of. Whereas Kylo represents anger and rebellion, the sometimes healthy — and sometimes not — desire to disconnect from the parents. It’s my favorite kind of quote-unquote bad guy, because you can genuinely see what their weakness is.

“The Force Awakens” left you with many significant unanswered questions: Who are Rey’s parents? Why did Luke flee? Who is the mysterious villain, Supreme Leader Snoke? To the extent that “The Last Jedi” answers any of them, did you feel obliged to consult with J. J.?

If I had questions — what did you think this was going to be? What were your ideas for this? — I could always ask him. But those questions only address what these characters want and how they get there.

Take the question of who Rey’s parents are: If you get the information — oh, it’s that! — who really cares? I know a lot of people care, but it’s interesting as opposed to impactful. Now, what is my place in the world? Where do I come from? Where do I belong? O.K., I understand what the weight of that is. We could play with those questions and their answers to have the biggest emotional impact on these characters.

You get to give Luke Skywalker his first lines of dialogue in this trilogy.

That was the first thing I had to figure out. Why is Luke on that island? And I didn’t have any answers. But it’s not like you can just pick anything you want out of the air. I grew up having a sense of who Luke Skywalker is. It guides you to a very specific path. I know he’s not hiding on the island. I know he’s not a coward. He must be there for a reason that he believes in. You’re finding a path forward, but there end up being fewer choices than you think.

Since you grew up a “Star Wars” fan, were you intimidated to work with longtime franchise stars like Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher?

It took a while before I could sit across the table with Mark and not, every three seconds, think, I’m talking to Luke Skywalker. With Carrie, I felt we connected as writers very quickly. She spoke her mind, man. They both did. Anyone whose life is that weirdly tied to a character like this, where you drop a script in their lap and say, “Now it’s this,” there’s no way it’s not a discussion. But they were both so engaged in the process, and trusting. The fact that both of them at some point said, “O.K., even if this isn’t what I was expecting, I’m going to trust you” — that was really touching.

Ms. Fisher died shortly after she finished filming. How did you absorb this tragedy? Did you feel as if you had to alter the movie? 

When she passed away, we were pretty deep into postproduction. When we came back to the edit room after New Year’s, it was so hard. We went through all her scenes. I felt very strongly that we don’t try to change her performance. We don’t adjust what happens to her in this movie. Emotionally, you can’t help recontextualize it, now that she’s gone. It’s almost eerie how there are scenes that have an emotional resonance and a meaning, especially now. She gives a beautiful and complete performance in this film.

What is your working relationship with Colin Trevorrow? [Editor’s note: This interview took place before Lucasfilm parted ways with Mr. Trevorrow, who was to have directed “Star Wars: Episode IX.”]

It’s been very similar to J. J. and I. I’ve given it some trajectory forward, and now I get to see where another storyteller is going to take it. I’ve been available, and he’s shot me questions. But I’m pretty much sitting back and seeing how it’s all going to come together for him.

What does “The Last Jedi” mean?

It’s in the opening crawl of “The Force Awakens.” Luke Skywalker, right now, is the last Jedi. There’s always wiggle room in these movies — everything is from a certain point of view — but coming into our story, he is the actual last of the Jedi. And he’s removed himself and is alone on this island, for reasons unknown.

We hear a voice in the teaser trailer say, “It’s time for the Jedi to end.” Is that Luke speaking?

That’s him. It sounds pretty dire. That’s something that we’re definitely going to dig into. The heart of the movie is Luke and Rey. It follows all the other characters, but its real essence is the development of the two of them. And it’s absolutely tied up in that question of, What is Luke’s attitude toward the Jedi?

And Han Solo returns as a Force ghost?

Han Solo as a Force ghost, obviously. And Jar Jar, he’s Snoke. Everything I’m dropping is gold, right here. (x)

[mindthump]

Here’s your first look of Robert Pattinson as The Batman https://ift.tt/2SnQSI2

Filmmaker Matt Reeves just shared our very first look at Robert Pattinson as The Batman.

In a camera test posted on Vimeo on Thursday, Pattison is seen under the glimmer of infrared light, decked out in the matte black, iconic costume, his face hidden by the mask. The clip is accompanied by dark, deep string instruments from the film’s composer, Michael Giacchino. According to the Hollywood Reporter, the 55-second snippet was shot by cinematographer Greig Fraser.

Pattison was cast in the role last spring, and will appear alongside Zoe Kravitz as Catwoman and Colin Farrell as the Penguin. The film is still being shot in London. 

Yes folks that’s my music in the video Matt just sent out. Enjoy!! https://t.co/IW5LNroojL

— Michael Giacchino (@m_giacchino) February 13, 2020

The Batman is expected to hit theaters June 25, 2021.

Reeves is known for films like War for the Planet of the Apes and Cloverfield — as well as a handful of other action thrillers. In an interview with New Trailer Buzz in 2017, Reeves said he is planning to capture Batman’s “almost noir-driven detective” side, stemming back to the character’s role as “the world’s greatest detective” in the comic book.

Pattinson’s part in the film may have come out of left field for many fans of the series, but after Ben Affleck retired the suit at the beginning of 2019, Pattinson’s work in the decade following Twilight made him a serious contender, according to The Ringer. He even told Variety this past September that the role of Batman had been on his mind for quite some time. 

“It’s such an absurd thing to say. I sort of had an idea to do it” Pattinson told the magazine adding that once he tried on the suit he felt “very powerful immediately.”

Red filter removed showing a better look at the Batsuit (@imPatrick) #TheBatman pic.twitter.com/UU5GkgPqEf

— Geek Vibes Nation ???? (@GeekVibesNation) February 14, 2020

The reaction to the video on social media was immediate. Some users went as far as editing out the harsh red light to reveal a closer look at the costume’s “work in progress” aesthetic. Many just simply gawked at Pattinson’s remarkably powerful-looking jawline. 

I CANNOT BREATHE LOOK AT HIS JAWLINE !!!! #TheBatman pic.twitter.com/dVCNdqL8FO

— Tessa Netting (@tessanetting) February 14, 2020

Though the screen test video was short, it did provide a look into how Pattison will take over the character. If you look closely enough, and compare to the likes of other actors who once filled the suit, like George Clooney and Christian Bale, Pattinson’s apparel doesn’t seem as high tech — his mask made of leather, and doesn’t really resemble a helmet. The plated chest isn’t really complete either.

Take the video as a whole, and there is no doubt we can expect this next rendition of the series to be eerie and unpredictable.

The Batman: Cast, release date, and everything else we know about the movie

Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker movie: Here’s everything we know so far

How I learned to stop worrying and love Robert Pattinson as Batman

[leojameslesoco-blog]

Music/Sound Design

Orchestral Pieces:

Tchaikovsky - 1812 Overture | Gustav Holst - The Planets, Op. 32 | Beethoven - Symphony No.4

The film starts and we hear street noises, these noises will be recorded by iPhone, but when we get to the second scene, all noises will be from the original audio of the camera. The music will be small parts of symphonies from Beethoven and other composers, edits will be done by stopping one track by cutting at a rest in the music.

    Most of the sounds that aren’t music are slightly muffled, because the Noise Killer is wearing headphones, there are times when he is not wearing headphones and the audio is very clear.

    Another sound that is accompanied by visuals is the sounds of explosions and crashes and fireworks, etc.

Structure of Music/Visuals:

Every second of the music being played in this film will co-ordinate with the visuals being presented on the screen. The film begins with no music, just street noise. In terms of narrative structure, this is a simple analogy for the status quo. We hear nothing but natural noises of London, the Noise Killer is in a state which has been more or less the same for a long time.

  You may also notice that he is sitting on a brick wall, which is a metaphor for having an uncomfortable life, he is sitting on a hard surface, it’s dull and not relaxing at all, this may also suggest that the Noise Killer is homeless or that he does not like his life at home. Another thing to point out is his untied shoelaces which I chose to put in to add to the uneasy effect and this whole twisted atmosphere, it’s as if he is starting out by living loosely, whilst slightly tense on the inside. But again, the music hasn’t even started yet.

    The Noise Killer begins to tie his shoelaces (this shoelace idea may be taken out and replaced with the Noise Killer rolling up his trouser legs) one at a time, and around the 3 minute and 15 second mark of Beethoven’s 4th Symphony begins to play. Play from 3:15.  This is because at that part of the symphony, a long yell of all of the instruments play for around 3 seconds and then stops abruptly at a second strum. The Noise Killer rolls up his left trouser leg/ties his left shoe as that plays, a second yell is heard, he rolls up his right trouser leg/ties his right shoe. The music that is heard at this moment is to represent a large change in his life, we don’t necessarily know what this means, but any audience member can create their own conclusion, as long as they understand that in contrast with the distant street noises which we would all normally hear, this new development is an inciting incident.

   A mellow, steady tune starts to play (same song) as we follow the Noise Killer on his journey, this section, being what I would call the second status quo. He is starting a new kind of lifestyle where he walks into the distant depths of the dangerous world filled with noise pollution. This could possibly be because his headphones are new, or he has just now decided to change up his life, we really don’t know, but again, everyone is allowed to come up with their own conclusions, plus, this element of ambiguity really helps with what I am trying to put across, a confusing experience.          The Noise Killer wears his headphones whilst he walks to block out the loud noises which trigger his stress levels, if it wasn’t apparent already. But as the Noise Killer walks, the noises seem to get louder, whilst the music ironically gets quieter. The Noise Killer slows his pace and looks around him in fear, he slowly returns back to his walk as now he is feeling slightly better, because the music has now become more triumphant and most importantly, he is now joined by the Two Darkly Dressed Men.

I would say this was almost like a reverse obstacle, but it could also be thought of as an immediate rejection to a challenge that he hasn’t been given yet (The idea of the Noise Killer having to accept things may seem like something good, but it eerily is not, his real life is uncomfortable and accepting just makes it all worse, which makes for an incredibly intense ending).

    For the Painting Girl sequence which comes shortly after, I will use different music, still orchestral, but a bit more calm yet eerie and confusing, I still haven’t finished my e-digging for all of this music, but I think this is something to be more concerned about during post-production, however in the meantime, I am using the 4th symphony and possibly Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture which is an orchestral piece that Marcus recommended to me. But there are still others.

    Most of the music in this film will be in major as again, it adds to the effect of falsely living a happy life, this music is very triumphant and acts as a fake self-confidence drug. I was given this idea from ‘A Clockwork Orange’, most of the music is very epic and uplifting whilst what we see is quite negative and violent.

The next significant moment takes place in the grassy field. This is the Noise Killer’s brain’s idea of a perfect world, which still isn’t completely perfect, as I intend to have the weather be very drowsy and dull. But still, in his mind, it seems fine, so the music in this sequence is quite steady with some melancholy undertones. This acts as an element of rising tension as it raises the viewer’s confusion and starts to make people think that something might happen abruptly as several abrupt things have already happened.

[aion-rsa]

Blood Feuds and All the Feels: TorCon 2021 Highlights

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This piece is sponsored by

For the second year in a row, Tor Books and Den of Geek have presented TorCon, a virtual convention bringing the exciting panels and dynamic conversations of a book convention to your computer screens. This weekend built on the success of the inaugural con with over 30 authors from Tor Books, Forge Books, Tordotcom Publishing, Tor Teen, and Nightfire matching wits and being candid about their emotional, scary, and hopeful writing processes.

The weekend started off spooky, with horror trivia and thoughtful conversations from female thriller writers, then transitioned into a bevy of gay delights by way of deep dives into emotional storytelling in SFF and upcoming fall reads to make you shiver with antici…pation. Panels ran the gamut from one-on-ones (with assists from Den of Geek moderators) to panels playing games in real-time, all for your entertainment. Check out the highlights below, with links to relive the livestream fun or check out the events for the first time if you missed them live!

Visit the TorCon Bookstore here.

Catriona Ward in Conversation with Gillian Flynn

Listening to one of today’s gutsiest thriller writers Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl, Sharp Objects, Dark Places) chat with Catriona Ward, author of the highly-anticipated The Last House on Needless Street, felt like listening in on the pivotal conversation in a mystery, where everything slots into place. “No one goes from skipping along the street to becoming a monster,” Ward said, “it’s incremental. You turn around and look back at your footsteps and you don’t realize you’ve walked the path to monsterhood.” Between this empathy for the monster and their frank discussion of female culpability in horror, it’s no surprise to learn that Gone Girl‘s ending was the easiest of Flynn’s shocking conclusions to come up with.

Moderated by Den of Geek Books Editor Kayti Burt, the conversation tackled the inherent creepiness of unreliable narrators and whether the authors know their books’ dynamic twists when they first sit down to write. A sense of place is extremely important to both writers, from the eponymous house—and its Bible-reading house cat—in Ward’s forthcoming book to the themes that ground Flynn’s stories. “Whether it’s about what it’s like to grow up in extreme poverty in the ’80s with Satanic Panic and reclaim that mentality, or female aggression and violence and what it looks like cyclically,” Flynn said, “it just happens that the mystery is the way for me to attach an engine to it and give me the discipline to actually tell this story.”

Rewatch Here!

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Chaotic Storytelling—Take 2!

Last year’s most chaotic panel returned with a new batch of ambitious authors ready to pants, not plot, their way through a speculative story in front of a live audience. How do you get from Gladys the tortured mummy in Stephen King’s castle to one of Keanu Reeves’ many incarnations saving the day? By tripping over some security lasers that emit glitter, of course. Enjoy this glimpse into the minds and creative processes of J.S. Dewes (The Last Watch), Jenn Lyons (The House of Always), Christopher Buehlman (The Blacktongue Thief), Andrea Hairston (Master of Poisons), and Neil Sharpson (When the Sparrow Falls), with plot twists and surprise d20 rolls supplied by moderator Drew Broussard of LitHub.

And while most of the panelists agreed that they were unlikely to collaboratively co-write a novel—unless it was a project like Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar’s This is How You Lose the Time War—they relished the opportunity to tap into their more unpredictable sides and go with the first plot ideas that popped into their heads without that self-editing voice. After all, as Lyons reflected, “sometimes fun is destroying stuff.”

Rewatch Here!

Nightfire Family *Blood* Feud

Tired: Family Feud. Wired: Gathering a temporary coven of authors from Macmillan’s newest horror imprint Nightfire to answer horror trivia submitted by the Tor staff. Guided by moderator Lee Mandelo (Summer Sons), these masters of thrills and chills had to answer burning questions such as… What’s the most common hiding spot in a slasher film? Which tropes are the most beloved? Who’s the scariest serial killer? (Spoiler: The shark from Jaws makes the list.)

In addition to guessing at their editors’ and publicists’ answers, the panelists let us into their own brains for some fascinating insights. Thomas Olde Heuvelt (HEX, Echo) once passed out while giving blood, while Cassandra Khaw (Nothing But Blackened Teeth) has a soft spot for Sophie Kinsella’s rom-coms. Gretchen Felker-Martin (Manhunt) has to purposely scare herself to get in the zone, while Silvia Moreno-Garcia (Certain Dark Things) fondly told childhood stories about a spot known as Blood Alley.

“We like to be scared because we all have our little dark sides to ourselves,” Olde Heuvelt said, with Khaw praising how the genre creates a space for people to process fears. Moreno-Garcia pointed out that horror doesn’t necessarily have to scare to be effective, that its tropes are in conversation with other genres and familiar stories retold. And Felker-Martin summed it up best: “Horror is about looking at things you don’t want to look at until you can expand your sphere of empathy enough to encompass them.”

Rewatch Here!

James Rollins in Conversation with Holly Black

Holly Black kicked off our conversation with the thrilling news that she’ll be publishing her first adult novel, Book of Night, with Tor Books! While Black is embarking on a new stage in her writing career with this series, for James Rollins it was like coming home: The thriller writer returns to epic fantasy with The Starless Crown, the first installment of the ambitious Moon Fall series in which he applies his love of scientific discovery on the fringes with a story that he carried in his head for over a decade before putting pen to paper.

With Den of Geek contributor Natalie Zutter moderating, the conversation delved into the authors’ shared love for the band Dead Can Dance as well as the appeal of liminal spaces—from the Faerie court to a twilight realm on a tidally-locked planet—and characters with a foot in two worlds at once. Both authors enjoy writing fantasy characters who fail to honor that old adage to be careful what you wish for, with magic bringing as much potential for world-ending disaster as for life-changing joy. As Black pointed out, “The difference between curses and wishes is just shading.”

Revisit the discussion for talk of non-Chosen Ones, fantasy jewelry, swamp bats we would die for, and the pop culture getting these authors through the pandemic. To that end, could there be some Lupin-esque heists in Book of Night? “Maybe” Black teased. “I hope so!”

Rewatch Here!

All the Feels: Emotional Storytelling in SFF

“With all due respect,” Becky Chambers (A Psalm for the Wild-Built) said to the more stoic authors on this panel, “if you’re not crying when writing a book, then what is the point?” Kerstin Hall (Star Eater) joked about how to “hack” readers, but quips aside, moderator TJ Klune (Under the Whispering Door) guided these authors in a soul-searching conversation about how they put themselves into the emotional highs and lows of their SFF stories. “It’s all about contrast, isn’t it?” asked T.L. Huchu (The Library of the Dead), comparing their writing to how artists work with light and darkness on the same canvas. “If you have these highs, when the really messed-up stuff happens, you’re bringing the characters down from a height, which creates a greater effect.”

From infusing the worldbuilding with feelings to constantly stepping back from the text and taking the temperature, these authors of everything from cozy sci-fi to cannibalistic family sagas never lose sight of the intense relationship on both sides of the page. Part of being a writer, as Alex Pheby (Mordew) pointed out, is letting readers meet you partway by “letting them have space in the text where they can engage their own feelings” instead of being prodded by the author to feel a certain way. Most important when writing from a place of trauma, Lucinda Roy (The Freedom Race) said, was for the author to be sure that they had come to terms with their own emotional starting point: “Have I reconciled my spirit to this trauma in such a way that I can stand back from it and write about it in a way that will be useful to others?”

Despite the name of the panel, it was still a heartstring-tugging surprise to see the panelists get emotional over their brief time together. When asked about inspiration, Roy said of her fellow authors, “Those kinds of people are my people.” Aww, right in the feels.

Rewatch Here!

Ethereal & Eerie: A Glimpse at Captivating Fall Reads

Bless all the authors on this panel for candidly saying that in most cases they would not want to live in the worlds they’ve created—especially because for many of them, like Catherynne M. Valente (The Past is Red, Comfort Me With Apples) and Lee Mandelo (Summer Sons), their books are set in a version of our present. As moderator Seanan McGuire (Where the Drowned Girls Go, Across the Green Grass Fields) pointed out, “Would I have written a book about where I am now if I wanted to stay?”

The panelists spoke about how they set the proper atmosphere for their novels, from Valente cribbing from an actual Florida HOA agreement to Freya Marske (A Marvellous Light) recreating a real manor house she visited in England. The most pressing question is which came first, the world or the characters? For Alix E. Harrow (A Spindle Splintered), it was walking out of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and saying, “I want to Spider-Verse a fairy tale.” While Zin E. Rocklyn (Flowers for the Sea) drew upon her “very deep respect” for the water (“that shit is scary and it’s our least explored area of the Earth”) to create the world first, her character came immediately after: “I wanted to mess with something that was catastrophic and bleak.”

What with releasing new books during spooky season, of course talk turned to tried-and-true Halloween reads and especially favorite eerie bookish characters, including We Have Always Lived in the Castle‘s narrator Mary Katherine Blackwood (Shirley Jackson sure knows how to write ’em) and the eponymous protagonist of Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi. And how do these authors get in the proper eerie mindset? Everything from Rocklyn’s Spotify playlists to Valente and Mandelo each needing to do no more than step outside into a nearby cemetery. It’s gonna be a great fall ahead.

Rewatch Here!

Charlie Jane Anders in Conversation with TJ Klune

If this were an in-person con, Charlie Jane Anders (Victories Greater Than Death) and TJ Klune (Under the Whispering Door) would have been all over the place, appearing on and/or moderating in a variety of other panels. It was such a treat, then, to see the two of them in devoted conversation, led by Kayti Burt. The two found a lot of common ground, from writing for both YA and adult readers, to debating the benefits and drawbacks of standalones versus series, to speaking candidly about trans identity and asexuality.

As Burt astutely pointed out, both authors go to great lengths to depict kindness and empathy even within their more traumatic or grim stories. That intentionality is for the readers’ sake, Klune said, speaking about his YA superhero series The Extraordinaries and the second installment Flash Fire: “Queer kids deserve to have a book about queer kids that isn’t about the angst of coming out and homophobia; queer people should be able to read about happy queers who do stupid things.” And while Anders often finds that she establishes the tone at the start of a project, she’s aware that tropes can sometimes lead the story in a darker direction and that she as the writer can choose to diverge from where a story may seem like it’s turning grim: “Most tropes aren’t the boss of me! They work for me, not the other way around!”

Rewatch Here!

Space is Gay!

With books like Everina Maxwell’s Winter’s Orbit, Charlie Jane Anders’ Victories Greater Than Death, and Ryka Aoki’s Light From Uncommon Stars, it comes as no surprise that space is becoming increasingly gay. But moderator K.M. Szpara (First, Become Ashes) keenly started off the panel by asking the authors to define what they even mean by space. For Aoki, it was the sense of needing space: “If there’s any world you sometimes need a break from, it’s the world we live in as queers.” Anders likened the genre, with its interstellar jaunts and gallivanting, to one of the very best romance tropes: “It’s like there’s only one bed, but with the entire cosmos around you.”

“There’s only one pod!” the panel chorused, and we knew this was going to be a gallivant for the ages even if we were stuck on terra firma. But it wasn’t just riffing: When asked what should be made gay after space (dinosaurs and cyberpunk came to mind), Aoki brought up the necessary point that our work in space was not done: “Don’t just make it gay,” she said, “make it queer and trans.”

This panel had some of the most sparkling witticisms of the con, with this self-appointed starship crew of authors plotting a gay space heist involving tactical ballgowns, robbing Elon Musk’s inevitable space bank, and knowing exactly where to hide a body on a space station. Even when discussing more serious topics such as the need for queer scientists and educators (in addition to sci-fi writers), Aoki had the panel and audience cheering: “Imagine Bill Nye the Science Bi!”

Rewatch Here!

Conjuring the Diaspora: Myths, Legends, and Classics Reimagined

Moderator Lily Philpott began this panel, about the intersections between the Asian diaspora and speculative storytelling, by acknowledging how vast the diaspora is, inviting the panelists to each speak about their ancestors and formative myths and legends. With these authors based on three different continents, no two people had the same perspective on identity. To wit, in discussing the disparate influences on Light From Uncommon Stars, Ryka Aoki said, “I’m not doing that to show you how many places I can be, I’m doing this to show you how many places I am.” With regard to rediscovering one link to her family history in Japan while losing another, Aoki said, “I refuse, with this book and with many of my books, to see myself as fragmented.” Whereas Nghi Vo (The Chosen and the Beautiful), whose family is Vietnamese and Hakka Chinese, said that while she appreciated the discussion of wholeness, “I have no interest in being whole. I have plenty of identity in fragment.”

As for what drew them to SFF, for Aliette de Bodard (Fireheart Tiger) it was because it’s fun! “I think on some level what I’m trying to find were these stories my grandmother would tell me as a child,” the French-Vietnamese author said, “and that sense of wonder you had when finding a dragon or turning a mountain and meeting the mountain spirit.” Interestingly, Shelley Parker-Chan’s She Who Became the Sun started out as more historical palace drama but eventually turned fantastical, especially playing with the what-if aspect by adding magic. “One of the appeals of fantasy for me is you can approach issues side-on,” said the author, who grew up in a Cantonese-speaking Malaysian-Singaporean community in Australia. “With fantasy, you can conjure up characters who evoke those same issues, like with gender, but it’s cloaked by a softening layer that makes it vague. So many true people with their own experiences can see themselves in it.”

“The experience of the diaspora is one of monsters,” Vo said. “If you start with monsters, you start in horror and SFF. When you’re operating from a place where monsters want to eat you, and realize you’re a monster as well, you have to figure out how you’re gonna eat everyone else—that’s where I’m writing from.”

Rewatch Here!

Jo Firestone in Conversation with Joe Pera

Unfortunately, this is the only TorCon event that was truly live in the sense that there isn’t a link to rewatch Adult Swim star Joe Pera (Joe Pera Talks With You) and Punderdome creator Jo Firestone dryly yes-and their way through discussing Pera’s first book A Bathroom Book for People Not Pooping or Peeing but Using the Bathroom as an Escape. A boon for socially awkward and/or overstressed readers everywhere, the book was a challenge for Pera in translating stand-up from the stage to the page, and a delight in collaborating with illustrator Joe Bennett.

Kayti Burt led the audience Q&A, featuring such pressing questions as the best wood on which to display this book in a bathroom (teak). Pera hopes that the book, intended to be read in the duration of a short but much-needed bathroom break, will be a meditative guide but not necessarily recognizable by name: “Sometimes, like with stand-up, it’s best when someone stumbles upon it and has no idea who you are,” he said, “and feels like they’ve discovered something more personal that talks to them.”

The post Blood Feuds and All the Feels: TorCon 2021 Highlights appeared first on Den of Geek.

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One of the many dreadful side effects of our collective distancing is quiet, a miserable, seismologically registrable quiet. The white noise of everyday life—the humming of your local bar, the turning of car tires—is lost. In its place is the unpleasant silence of a whole world stuck on pause.

Let’s fix that. Today, we offer a playlist, assembled by three of our music critics: Hannah Giorgis, Spencer Kornhaber, and James Parker. They each picked a few tracks, each tuned to one of the very specific moods you might be experiencing during this period of self-quarantine.

A kitschier newsletter might ask you to now turn up your bass and fill the aforementioned void with sound waves from your speaker. But we’ll just leave this Spotify link here and let you decide what to do next.

For perking up without wanting to go anywhere:

“Party” by Planet 1999

Pop music’s caffeine tastes sour lately—it’s too brash, too silly, and too in love with the physical world—so instead I’ve regulated my energy with gentle, abstracted substitutes. In the video for this happy-slurry dance track, folks in casual wear bop around a digital purgatory, which feels awfully relatable. — SK

For when all you can do is stare out the window like the lead of an indie movie: “Cut Me” by Moses Sumney

As the days stretch on, so does the space for constant rumination. Thankfully, “Cut Me,” the fourth single from Moses Sumney’s græ: Part 1, washes over you with all the force and reassurance of a hot shower. Cry if you need to; nothing is more human. — HG

For a boost to the immune system: “Misfit Love” by Queens of the Stone Age, live in the studio at The Henry Rollins Show, 2007

Look at this band, these dudes: the greasy, druggy, stylish, heavy, humid closeness and consanguinity of it all. Look at them building this sick, sick groove in successive loops of wonder, in layers of inevitability, in a kind of scowling ecstasy, as if they’re inventing not just music but the idea of music. Inhale this; get it deep inside your body. This is medicine. — JP

For post-videochat melancholy:

“Where Are You Judy?” by Andy Shauf

The fantastic new album by sleepy-voiced strummer Andy Shauf is about spending a night out at the bars yet remaining stuck inside one’s own head. Here he fantasizes about an ex calling him up to reconnect, and it’s a weirdly comforting reminder that pre-quarantine freedom had its quiet madness too. — SK

For when you can’t concentrate: “Sex” by the Necks

In this general glut of horrible news, horrible numbers, and pestilential vibes, it can be—let’s put it mildly—hard to focus. The Necks are an Australian improvisational trio, and “Sex” is a nearly hour-long voyage into the galaxy that Miles Davis discovered with In a Silent Way. Slow, twinkling, irreversible build; beckoning theta-states. Whatever you’re doing when you put this on, you’ll start to do it better. — JP

For when only Morrissey will do: “My Hurling Days Are Done” by Morrissey

Forgive him his trespasses, as he might—actually probably wouldn’t—forgive yours. A yodeler on the Alp of himself, calling in his lost sheep, his black sheep, his whipping boys, in that rich and curling tenor, this, ah, complex individual is still in magnificent voice, and still capable of writing superbly, as demonstrated by this cut from his new album, I Am Not a Dog On a Chain. — JP

For a dramatic lip-sync session in the mirror: “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” by Céline Dion

Sure, this is one of the strangest songs ever written, but just think of it as an ode to the outside world, which you’ll see again … someday. — HG

For an important reminder not to text your ex:

“Si Veo a Tu Mamá” by Bad Bunny

Listen, I get it—social distancing has made dating really weird! But that’s no excuse to go full “Marvins Room.” Instead of Drake, let Bad Bunny be your muse: “Si Veo a Tu Mamá” is a rueful message to a lost lover who’s already moved on, but it’s also a bouncy introduction to the Puerto Rican phenom’s incredibly fun new album, YHLQMDLG. Rather than yearning ad nauseam, Bad Bunny looks forward. Do the same, and dance along. — HG

For your eerie but life-affirming walk around the neighborhood:

“Happy Cycling” by Boards of Canada

How did the ambient musicians of Boards of Canada anticipate this experience 22 years ago? The stores are closed, the gulls are jeering, and yet you pace ahead to thwart leg cramps. Five minutes in, the endorphins assemble, the creepiness lessens, and there’s an unidentifiable new feeling that might even be related to hope.  — SK

For your personal happy hour:

“Stay Flo” by Solange

Solange’s collage-like 2019 album When I Get Home has never made more sense. It’s like she’s trying to remember the chaos of the outside world, rhythm first, and ends up conjuring some fresh, bizarre, and ultimately pleasing sense of order. — SK

For breaks from the news:

“What’s Going On” by Marvin Gaye

Because obviously. Gaye voiced Vietnam-era outrage, but never has a sigh of “WTF” sounded so consoling or pure. — SK

For when you’d rather be on a different planet: “Celebration Station” by Lil Uzi Vert

Lil Uzi Vert isn’t subject to the same rules as the rest of us. Where we might trudge through life, the 25-year-old Philadelphia rapper glides. That’s never been more obvious than on the long-awaited Eternal Atake, his recent chart-topping second studio album. Uzi immediately followed it up with a separate 11-track record, Eternal Atake (Deluxe) – LUV vs. The World 2. It’s nearly impossible to pick just one song from the extraterrestrial experience that is the double release, but “Celebration Station” is a roller coaster unto itself. The run from 1:49 to 2:11 will roll through you with so much energy, it’ll feel almost like wind blowing through your hair again. — HG

For thinking about when it’s all over:

“One Love Jam Down” by Papa Michigan & General Smiley

“The social barriers come down / Together in a one-love jam down.” We’re told that there likely won’t be a V-E Day on this thing, no single joyful scream-of-the-whistle moment where we all rush into one another’s arms and orgiastically reverse the months-long damage of social distancing. But we can dream—and the combined bass-synth squelch on this 1980 classic of positive reggae can keep our dreams juicy. — JP

Listen to this on Spotify. What song do you find yourself returning to in this tense moment? Send us your own pick (along with the corresponding quarantine mood), and we may highlight it in a future edition of the newsletter.

CHANNARONG PHERNGIANDA / SHUTTERSTOCK / THE ATLANTIC

What to read if … you just want practical advice:

How the pandemic will end

The four possible timelines for life returning to normal

Here’s how many people have the coronavirus in your state

How you should get food during the pandemic

One question, answered: Why doesn’t the U.S. have a national lockdown?

Other countries—including Western democracies such as Italy, Spain, and France—have responded to the coronavirus crisis by shutting down entire regions or the nation as a whole. America, which currently has the most known COVID-19 cases of any country, has not.

Two health-law experts explain how America’s federalist system limits its response options:

Constitutional authority for ordering major public-health interventions, such as mass quarantines and physical distancing, lies primarily with U.S. states and localities via their “police powers.”

Today’s Atlantic-approved self-quarantine activity:

Try last year’s six-part British drama Years and Years, an eerily timely—and oddly comforting—series about family life against a backdrop of constant crisis. In the show, “simply carrying on is portrayed as the key to survival,” our critic writes.

What to read if … you’d like to read about something—anything—other than the coronavirus:

The wellness movement is booming—and so are opportunities to profit from it.

We are continuing our coverage of the coronavirus. View all of our stories related to the outbreak here. Let us know if you have specific questions about the virus—or if you have a personal experience you’d like to share with us. In particular, we’d like to hear about how the pandemic has affected your family life—whether that’s child care, partner relationships, or any other family dynamic.

This email was written by Caroline Mimbs Nyce, with help from Isabel Fattal. Sign yourself up for The Daily here

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