#and it was easier when i laid things out and then made our decisions and plans

[sadaveniren]

When it's all laid out like that I don't see how this kind of life is preferable to just...being out. Obviously being out would come with it's own set of challenges but I would imagine it would be more worth it than whatever the fuck this is. What saddens me is that it's pretty clear that Harry and Louis have been conditioned to believe certain things and have become somewhat brainwashed by the industry and the powerful people within it. During the 1d days I had faith that they didn't necessarily believe everything they were being told. I truly think the Harry and Louis from that time period would be in a lot of ways amazed at their lives and all their success but also deeply disappointed with certain things and maybe even themselves.

I get how and why you feel that way, I've been openly and loudly queer since I was fourteen during the early 00s. I have a lot of complex thoughts on the closet BUT I'll bring you back to one of the very first points I made yesterday and that's that I understand and respect queer people closeting themselves, and that includes even when it's not the choice I would make.

Louis has who and what knows going on in his life. He has parts of it that we in fandom will never and should never know about. His decision to stay closeted is his and while we can say "hey it would just be easier to be out" that's not our call to make. That's not our decision and frankly I don't think he should take us into consideration at all.

I also want to make something very clear, I don't believe Louis is closeted in his personal life. I think we have a lot of evidence to show that Louis' team, band, friends, and family all know about him being gay. Taking it one step further, I think we have a lot of evidence to show they know about him and Harry being together as well. I think the same is true for Harry too, before people come for me. I think when they are out living their personal lives away from fame they are able to "live their truth" and be "out". I think ultimately Louis (and Harry) have chosen to not come out publicly for whatever reason they might have, and it's a very, very good chance they are both making moves right now so that way their private lives are completely separate from their public personas.

I believe it was Ian McKellen who once talked about how when you're famous and gay you never stop coming out. You have to come out every single time you meet someone new. And that can be exhausting. I know even in my much smaller life - again I'm someone who has been loudly and proudly queer for twenty years at this point - I'm always coming out. But there's also a flip side to being out and being famous that I don't think a lot of queer people consider and that's... strangers know you're gay before they even meet you. I obviously can't speak for every queer person ever but if I really start to think about that reality... this idea that someone I don't know knows I'm gay, and can approach me and just say "hey I know you, you're gay" that's absolutely TERRIFYING. Why? Because the world is still INCREDIBLY homophobic and I don't know who has what motives.

You say "Obviously being out would come with it's own set of challenges but I would imagine it would be more worth it than whatever the fuck this is." but have we as a fandom ever talked about what being openly gay and famous at the level we're talking about truly means? And I don't mean purely monetary and all the brand deals or movie options Harry might miss. I'm talking about what it means to live as someone of Harry or Louis' level of fame and be openly gay.

There are some countries they just won't really be allowed to visit anymore because the countries have laws against gay people, or they might not bother to travel to anymore because it's just not safe for them. There are countries that might ban their music. Inherently anything they put out will be politicized, regardless of what it is. Anything they do will be politicized as well, probably to a level of disgusting people in fandom who aren't deep into queer history are prepared for. I'm not trying to be US or western centric here with my thoughts even though they are western artists, I'm trying to think globally, because they both enjoy being global artists.

I get it, I do. BG is shitty and has sucked the joy out of fandom for a lot of people. Homophobia is the worst. But it's unfortunately very real and still very alive and so queer people have to play by those rules sometimes and if they choose not to fight that battle publicly I don't necessarily blame them. At the end of the day you don't have to come out to anyone you don't feel safe with even if you're "out" to your friends and family and living your best gay life. In the case of Harry and Louis or other closeted celebs they don't feel safe telling the world they're gay. Can't really blame someone there.

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475

It was exceptionally warm upon waking up this morning. It was a comfortable warmth that encased my tired body, a warmth that I had missed dearly.

Noah was pressed against my back, our bodies slotted together perfectly and melting into each other's curves. His arm was draped over my side, his hand nestled underneath my top. I smiled to myself, remembering how I fell asleep to the feeling of his large hand splayed over my stomach, his thumb lazily grazing the area.

Before then, we laid awake and just talked about any and everything. We both expressed where we felt things started to take a turn for the worse, and quickly realized we simply weren’t communicating the way that we should have been. At the end of the day, we were both paying for it, and knew we had to improve our communication skills if we ever wanted things to be the way they used to be.

Especially now, with him still not in perfect health, and me being pregnant. That was a discussion of its own; whether or not we were sure this was something we really wanted.

Much to my surprise, he was all for it. I was too, given the fact that this was something I’ve always wanted for as long as I could remember, but of course I had my doubts, with my alcoholism and all. I expressed my concerns to him, and he was very understanding about them, reassuring me that he would support me all the same regardless of what decision we came to.

With that clearing my conscious a tad, that’s when I was finally able to fall asleep—with the warmth of his body blanketing me, and his hand on my stomach.

As much as I enjoyed lying here, still in his embrace, I couldn't help the guilt from engulfing me when I tuned in on the sound of his wheezing—his chest was rising and falling heavily against my back as he struggled to breathe in his sleep. I frowned and shifted forward, hoping to take some weight off his chest so he could breathe easier.

His arm suddenly tightens around me, pulling me back against him. "Mmm, no," he mumbles, still half asleep. I snorted incredulously, shaking my head. "Noah, you can hardly breathe." "Don't care," he says, burying his face in the space between my shoulder and neck. I sighed, trying once again to wriggle out of his grasp. "But I do." "Give me a minute...please." He whispers the last word, and there's a pang of sorrow in my chest—he was practically begging me. I breathed out a quiet 'okay' and allowed him to hold me the way he wanted to, settling my body back against his.

The distance was hard on him, I knew that, and I regretted it. I should've asked him to come home sooner, maybe he wouldn't be so sick. Then again, it could've made him even worse; I don't know how this disease progresses. All I knew was that I wanted him to get better, I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and I needed to do what I could to fix it.

His hand returns to the same spot on my belly as the night prior, slowly curling his fingers to his palm and out again, his fingertips delicately running over my skin. "How are you feeling?" he asks quietly, trailing the tip of his nose up my neck and placing a kiss right behind my ear. I whine quietly, and my shoulder instinctively rises, trying to block the sensitive skin when his actions tickle me. "Alright so far. How are you feeling?" "Better than ever," he lies. I can hear the whine in his throat, trying to hinder himself from coughing. I pressed my lips into a saddened smile, though he couldn't see it.

“I forgot to ask,” Noah breaks the silence after a moment. "Have you been to a doctor since you found out?" I shake my head lightly. "Not yet, but I have an appointment with an OBGYN next week." "Good," he whispers, pressing his lips in my hair. "Would you like me to come?" I shifted slightly so I could look at him over my shoulder. “Would you come?" I asked hesitantly. He flashes me a sheepish grin, his eyes glimmering with candor. "If you wanted me to, of course I would. We went over this last night, didn’t we?" My heart swells and I smile wide, tears filling my eyes. Stupid pregnancy hormones. I already cry enough as it is. "Then yes, I would like you to come with me," I tell him, my voice quivering.

He agrees silently with a kiss on the back of my head before he turns away from me abruptly. I furrow my brows, confused for a brief second until he sits up and buries his face into his elbow, coughing violently.

The coughing is relentless; he's gasping for air, and I shoot up with alarm and brace him with a hand on his back. "I-is there something I can do?" My voice is high from the panic settling in, my heart pounding out of my chest. He reaches for the tissues on the nightstand, shaking his head. He cups his mouth with the tissues and coughs into them vigorously, his eyes squeezing shut. I watch a tear pool in the inner corner of his eye; it rolls down his cheek as he continues, and the guilt I felt multiplies knowing he's in that much pain because of me.

It feels like an eternity had passed when he finally spits out the flowers in his lungs, the intensity of his coughs lessening. I reached out and wiped at the tear trail with the pad of my thumb and apologize, but he disregards my apology with a shake of his head.

He glances down at the tissues, and lets out an exhausted chuckle as his chest heaves, trying to fill his lungs with the air he desperately needed. "At least there's no thorns this time," he humors, but I don't laugh. Instead, I fold his hand around the tissues so I can't see the rose petals. "Noah," I say his name dejectedly, tears brimming my eyes. "I'm so s—" "I swear to God if you apologize one more time, Liv," he scolds playfully, cupping my face in his hands so he can look me in the eye. I can still see that he's panting, having a hard time catching his breath. "I'm fine, okay? I'm used to it by now."

I'm used to it by now.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach hearing his words, shame swallowing me whole. "That doesn't make me feel any better," I whimper. My throat is suddenly tight, and it burns from trying not to cry. "I just want you to feel better." "Then I need to make you love me again," he teases, his lips curling into a smirk. "It's not the first time you've taken my breath away. I survived then; I'll survive this time." "It's not funny, Noah!" I cry out and squeeze my eyes shut, tears burning behind my lids. "I'm legitimately killing you." "Oookay, so maybe trying to be suave isn't the answer," he chuckles timidly. "Look at me, Olivia. Please."

I shake my head 'no', my lips trembling. I can't. I know the second that I do, I'm going to break down into a blubbering mess. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears while I held my breath in hopes of taming my emotions, and it works for a minute or two until Noah cradles my head against his chest. His other hand runs up and down my back as I instinctively cling onto his shirt, once again sobbing in his arms.

God, I was so sick of crying.

"I'm okay, I promise," he whispers, rocking us back and forth gently. "It's just a really bad cold, that's all." I rolled my head back and forth on his chest in denial; he's so full of it, and he knows that. I take a choppy breath in, trying to stifle my cries. "Bullshit," I choked out. He huffs with defeat when he realizes I'm not buying it and changes the subject. "C'mon, let's get some food in you," he tells me gently, rubbing my shoulder.

My stomach flips at the mention of food, and I shake my head once more. I wasn't all that hungry, and I'd probably just throw up whatever I ate, anyways.

I can picture the eye roll when he calls me a pain in the ass, accompanied by a quiet laugh, and slips out of bed. I look up at him when he takes my hands in his, urging me to stand. He had a playful smirk plastered on his face, but I couldn't help the frown as I watched his chest rise and fall drastically. He was winded just from standing up too quickly.

"Stop looking at me like that," he pulls on my arms, bringing me to my feet. "I'm fine—" he starts, but is interrupted by another round of coughs. He drops my hands and turns away from me, tucking his face into his elbow again. It breaks my heart seeing him like this, knowing there was nothing that I could do but stand here absolutely fucking useless.

I close the gap between us, planting my hand on his chest to help keep him upright when he crumples forward and braces himself on the nightstand. "Fuck," he chokes, still coughing. "Noah, you need to sit," I demand, trying to guide him back towards the bed. Even slumped over he still towers over me, and he's nearly dead weight; it's almost impossible to maneuver him to take a seat. He shakes his head and grabs another handful of tissues, once again spitting out whatever was making its way out of his lungs.

"I'm good," he gasps. "And look; still no thorns," he chuckles when he looks at the contents in his hand. "Noah," I barked, "this is serious." I wanted to slap the smile off his face, there wasn't room for him to joke about this. "Can you please go sit down?" He stands up straight and shakes his head, stuffing the tissues in his pocket so I can't see them. "Liv, I'm okay. I promise," he tries to reassure me, cupping my face in his hands. "I just need to get the shit out of my lungs like any other person does when they have a cold."

He gazes down at me with sincerity, but I can still see that he's in pain from the tears glossing over his eyes. He could try to convince me all he wants, but nothing would be able to take away the remorse that I felt watching him suffer.

My lips tremble, and he places a thumb over them to still. "Stop," he whispers. He then moves his hand, settling it around the back of my neck where his thumb rubs behind my ear gently. "We're gonna eat some breakfast and take it easy. Okay?" "I'm not all that hungry, Noah." His eyebrows rise and his mouth presses into a line as if to say 'Oh really?' "But baby is," he glances down at my belly, a smile forming on his face.

There was a flutter in my chest hearing the word 'baby' come out of his mouth and the way that he smiled when he said it; heat rises up my neck and across my cheeks. I grinned up at him bashfully—I guess I was going to have to get used to hearing that.

-

Noah

Things have been good between me and Olivia. Real good.

Mornings were a little rough between her morning sickness and me hacking up a lung, but we were managing. I helped take care of her when I could, and vice versa, even if there wasn't much she could help me with for my condition.

When we went to her appointment last week, I held her trembling hand the entire time to help keep her calm—I knew how nervous she was. She glanced at me with wary eyes when she explained to the doctor that she had been drinking around the time she found out that she was pregnant; I think she expected me to be mad. I wasn't mad, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly how I felt, either.

Disappointed? Sad? Guilty? It was my fault she had been, after all.

I was more than relieved when she said that she stopped as soon as she found out she was pregnant; there was a weight I didn't realize I was carrying lifted off my shoulders. Her doctor then spent a little extra time assessing everything after that discussion. Overall, everything seemed to be fine, but they still wanted to monitor how things progressed, and suggested more frequent appointments.

But let me tell you, the second the image of that little blob appeared on the screen, the joy I felt was indescribable. Especially when I felt Liv squeeze my hand and heard the little gasp that came out of her, turning to see the brightest smile spread from cheek to cheek. My heart swelled and a warmth radiated through my chest from the sight, and I knew in that instant, I was going to do whatever I could to keep that smile on her face...even if it left me breathless.

Much like right now, as I was sitting here on my bed recouping after such a small task.

After Liv went to work this morning, who was very adamant that I stayed home and rested, I decided to run to the store to get a few things I felt she'd need. Prenatal vitamins, these ginger 'tummy drops' that are supposed to help with nausea, some of her favorite snacks, and a waistband expander. Even if she was only about 8 or 9 weeks along, I thought it was best to have just in case she wakes up one day and suddenly can't fit into her pants.

That way she wouldn't have to stress about it. I could swoop in and save the day...or she'll get mad and smack me upside the head, thinking I got it because she was getting fat. I laughed lightly to myself when I pictured the latter happening and tucked it away in the dresser for now.

I went to the kitchen, where I made myself a cup of tea before parking my ass on the couch to relax until Liv came home.

When she barged through the door hours later, kicking it shut and scaring the crap out of me in the process, I saw that she was holding a large paper bag in her hands. Her purse had slipped off her shoulder and was hooked in the bend of her elbow, but she wasn't paying any mind to it. Whatever was in the bag was more important, and that was very evident with the smile plastered on her face as she trekked to the kitchen. I chuckled at the urgency and stood, following after her when I was sure I wouldn't erupt into a coughing fit.

I make it through the threshold just as she sets everything down on the island. "You hungry?" she asks, practically tearing the whole bag apart. "I brought Chinese food!" I snorted, realizing that was the source of her giddiness. "Sure, love—wait, are you even supposed to be eating Chinese food?" She shrugs, taking several takeout boxes from the bag and placing them on the table. "It's a little high on the sodium, but I don't think rice and chicken is anything to worry about. You know I only get General Tso's chicken, and maybe a crab rangoon here and there." "I don't think you should be eating this, Liv," I tell her warily. "But baby wants it," she whines, and looks up at me with her best puppy-dog eyes, her bottom lip jutted out as she pleads.

My stomach growls when I get a whiff of the food, and boy, did it smell heavenly—I peered over the bag to see what she bought. The usual: General Tso's chicken like she said, a pupu platter for one to pick on, and shrimp lo mein for me.

"Fine," I huffed. She won me over with the damn lo mein. "But we're not making this a habit, okay?" "Deal," she mumbles through a mouthful, having already popped a piece of chicken in her mouth. "You're going to be the death of me," I shake my head at her, trying not to laugh, and cradle the back of her head to kiss her forehead. "You know that, right?" She giggles and hums in acknowledgment before grabbing both mine and her food. "C'mon," she urges, cocking her head in the direction of the living room before spinning on her heal and trotting away. As she went, I noticed one small thing, and I couldn't help the enormous smile from spreading on my face when I realized what was glistening under the light.

She was wearing her wedding ring again.

|Chapter 18|

[ejzah]

For @anonkp, who wanted a continuation of my previous story, “Shattered Beyond Repair”. (I originally said the companion fic was a different title, but that is incorrect).

***

We’ll Make it New

The past three weeks has been miserable. While Deeks had officially ended their relationship, he hadn’t left NCIS or LAPD. At least not yet. Apparently he’d handed in his resignation, but told both Bates and Hetty he would stay on until they found his replacement.

It was a unique kind of torture. Seeing Deeks every day made her chest ache with longing, yet she coveted every moment they had together. To make it a little easier on her, Sam and Callen had taken to splitting she and Deeks up more days than not.

Thankfully they’d refrained from making any comments so far. Small favors, she supposed.

Today, started out with a debrief in OPS as usual on a suspicious double murder. Instead of standing next to Kensi as he once did, Deeks took position near the back of the room. As though he was physically distancing himself as much as he was emotionally.

“What do you think, Deeks?” Callen asked after Nell and Eric had gone over all the current details. Everyone turned to face Deeks, unusually quiet these days, and he considered the question for a few seconds.

This new version of him was quieter, more serious, more prone to deliberation. Like so many things recently, she regretted ever wishing that Deeks would less talkative, less the jokester…less him. She regretted not appreciating what they had.

“I think it’s suspicious that Lt. Anderson knew both victims and just rolled back into town two days ago,” Deeks said eventually. And that was it.

“Ok, then Sam and Kensi you can go talk to the Lieutenant. Deeks and I will interview his immediate superior,” Callen decided.

***

“How you holding up?” Sam asked as they drove to the Lieutenant’s home.

“Barring my father’s death and the times I’ve thought Deeks was dead, these have been the worst weeks of my life,” Kensi answered truthfully. “And I know what you’re going to say: I told you so,” she added with an exhausted sigh.

“Actually, I wasn’t. I don’t take any pleasure in your or Deeks’ pain,” Sam replied. “I do think you have some considerations to make.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you two are clearly both miserable. Deeks wants out, you don’t. I’d say you need to figure out if there’s a way that you can make both of those happen while existing as a couple?”

“Well, if it were that easy, I wouldn’t be single or searching for a new home.” She didn’t mean to snap, but she was on edge and feeling judged.

“I never said it was easy.” Sam chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Believe me, Michelle and I had this “conversation” more than once.” He smiled softly. “When Michelle got pregnant, it was a big surprise. She was the one who decided to resign from fieldwork, but we argued a lot about whether I should stay in or not. In the end, we decided that me staying would work.

“I wouldn’t say that I regret that decision, but I missed out on quite a few bedtimes, school events, and all over the years. Those are times I can’t get back. And I can’t get back the missed date nights with Michelle. Or the days when she had to be the only parent to our kids.”

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Kensi said with mild annoyance.

“Sorry. Basically, if being an NCIS Special Agent is what does make you happy, then that’s fine. If not…maybe it’s time to reconsider,” Sam said. “Work will always be there, people won’t.”

***

Kensi found herself rethinking Sam’s advice for the next several days. Somehow, once he’d laid it all out for her, it did seem amazingly simple. She wasn’t happy or content, even if she didn’t find some amount of pleasure in her work. It all seemed dull and worthless without Deeks by her side.

Which is why four days after talking with Sam, she found herself walking up the cracked sidewalk to the address she’d convinced Nell to give her. She knocked on the door before she chickened out and waited, heart pounding.

When Deeks opened the door a few moment later, he blinked in apparent surprise at finding her on his doorstep.

“Kensi, what are you—?”

“I quit,” she blurted out before Deeks could even voice his entire question. Which was not what she’d planned on saying at all.

“You quit?” Deeks repeated slowly, shaking his head slowly. “As in…?”

“NCIS. As of this morning, I’m not an NCIS Special Agent.”

Deeks’ face lit up for the briefest of seconds before he sobered, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. “Why?”

“Because I want you,” Kensi said reaching for his hand. She didn’t let his lack of response dissuade her.

“That didn’t make a difference before. At least not enough of one,” he reminded her. Kensi dipped her head, acknowledging his comment with a short nod.

“Yeah, well, I had a talk with Sam and he gave me reconsider some things.”

“He’s pretty good at that,” Deeks murmured softly, with a hint of his usual humor.

“He is.” She lifted her head, tears pricking the back of her eyes, as she took a step closer. “And I really missed you. More than any position, or mission could ever make up for.”

“But Kensi, you love field work. You love everything about helping people, the intrigue, and danger of it all. I can’t live up to that.” Her heart ached at the quiet hope tinged with resignation in Deeks’ voice.

“Yes, you can,” Kensi insisted fiercely, grasping his hand and pressing it to her chest. “Because I love you. More than anything. I can find ways to help people and fulfill my inner daredevil that won’t put me in danger the way that fieldwork does.”

“Are you sure?” Deeks whispered, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of her hand.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Yes, I want to be with you.”

Deeks made a sound that was a cross between a gasp of relief and a sob, drawing her into his arms. Kensi cupped her hands around his jaw, almost desperate in her need to kiss him.

“I love you,” he whispered, burying his nose in her neck. She felt him shudder against her, and held him even tighter.

She’d come so close to losing this, him, forever. She’d never make that mistake again.

“I love you too,” she repeated. “So much.”

***

I hope that was alright.

Thanks for the prompt!

[lakesparkles]

LiS True Colors fanfic (prologue)

Terrible title, I know lmao, but it doesn't have an actual title yet. I'm finally ready to start sharing my fanfics, this being the first one here.

The main idea was "what if Alex had Max's powers too?" because I wanted to write a time travel story, basically. It starts after the ending of the game, but not an official one, I guess? I kinda mixed two of them. The beggining of the fic will be more Alex/Steph but there are a lot of mentions of Alex/Ryan in this prologue too.

Last thing is that English is not my main language so sorry for any mistake! Here's something I drew for it:

You can read it on this google doc or under the cut: (1424 words)

Prologue

.

.

.

Alex doesn't understand how doing exactly what she wanted can be so scary

Or

What if Alex had Max's powers?

---

  The bus gave a sudden lurch, and Alex had to catch herself from falling off the seat. For that measly second, her mind returned to the real world, looking around. Beside her, Steph was going through the same thing, cursing under her breath as she returned to her previous position.

  Then it ended.

  Her attention immediately returned to the window, her cheek resting on her hand. Outside, the trees and mountains were farther apart. Different. Quite different from Haven Springs. The realization of that knocked her over again, making Alex swallow hard as she began to think about how her own decision hadn't made her as satisfied as she'd hoped.

  Maybe it was because she didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, Alex was never an optimistic person. Far from that. Because optimism never made her life easier. However, part of her had found small hopes just a few weeks ago, when she'd been on a bus much like this one: seeing Gabe again could be weird, but could also be good. She could find connections, comfort, and everything else she'd lacked before. She could make Haven Springs her home.

  She would be lying if she said that things didn't turn out the way her more unrealistic self imagined.

  And again, even that hadn't gotten her anywhere. For there she was, heading towards the opposite side of the country, just as she had started.

  Alex sighed, burying her face in her hand.

  "Look," Steph's voice made her reluctantly focus on something that was not her thoughts, "you might be the one among us who reads minds... Buuuuut something tells me you'd have a blue stain around you right now ... It's blue, right?

  A second sigh came out of Alex's throat, but this time, she too turned her head and smiled slightly. A sad smile:

  "I am really sorry. I think I'm kind of tired."

  "But already?" Steph didn't seem convinced, "It's the first hours of our incredible journey! When we're in Pennsylvania you won't even be able to stand up then!"

  There was a certain good humor in her voice, which Alex appreciated. She was already tired of all the disguised judgments she had received in the last few days in that city.

  "You're really used to traveling, huh!?"

  "I prefer to believe that I wasn't born for only one city!" Steph closed her eyes in a dramatic pose, pointing at herself.

  It was lovely. Alex's smile rose a few inches, until she noticed the blue stain start to appear around the other one. It was small and lasted a few seconds. Alex even tried to avoid reading Steph's thoughts, but it was almost involuntary: as none so far made me feel like I should.

  "I'm with you on this one!" Alex laughed awkwardly.

  She knew her thoughts would take over again. So she didn't even turn her face to the window. Instead, she slowly laid down on Steph's shoulder, giving the other woman enough time to stop her if she wanted to. But of course Steph didn't move a muscle, just resting her head on Alex's.

  The contact was still awkward. Something she knew she would need more time to get used to. It was just one of the many consequences of growing up with little affection. She now avoided and begged for it in equal measure. It was like that when she hugged Gabe for the first time after meeting him again: awkward, out of place and strangely nice.

  She felt her brother's affection in unusual ways, being when she discovered that he had bought a guitar as a gift, days before she arrived; or when everyone in town spoke to her with a certain familiarity during her first week there. "Gabe couldn't stop talking about you!", Ryan confessed one afternoon that he spent at her apartment, "He guaranteed that everyone would love you! He said that you could form a band with Steph. That you wouldn't even complain about watching the boring documentaries I liked. Scary how right he was... And now I understand why he thought that...".

  Every time she talked about Gabe with Ryan, she felt a warm feeling in her chest, in a way she knew she wouldn't feel with anyone else. The two understood each other and expressed their love for Gabe through each other as well. It made that anything but real, as if they were just two old friends reminiscing about stories and would soon see Gabe again.

  Affection for Alex often took that form: being able to pretend everything was fine with someone else.

  At that very moment, Alex had her legs on top of Ryan's. He gently placed his hand on her knee, lightly caressing the area. Something so small and ordinary and…weird. She didn't know if she liked it, and it made her uneasy.

  She wanted something real and different from the feelings she'd stolen from someone else. And she knew reality was always a little scary, so she seemed to be on the right path.

  It intensified when she handed him the rose at the festival, her heart beating a mile a second. Even worse when she kissed him for the first time, the gold and purple mingled in him as well as her. She was close enough to feel everything that went through his mind. It was always a mixed bag, just like it was with Alex. Confused. Scary. New. Comfortable.

  Maybe all that fear wasn't so bad after all.

  Purple certainly followed her through the rest of that short relationship.

  She saw how Ryan was paralyzed as she confronted his father. Or when he himself yelled at her, telling her to stop it.

  Ryan didn't believe her.

  It wasn't the anger she was so used to that washed over him as he refused her touch, almost as if he was disgusted with her. Or when he started avoiding her for the next few days, his guilt prevented him from even getting close.

  No. It wasn't anger. Or sadness.

  It was fear.

  Now Alex couldn't help but think of everything from the start. At all the other times that emotion was present.

  Maybe it wasn't as normal as she wanted to believe it was.

  "It's like this in the beginning!" Steph's voice again brought her back to the real world.

  Alex needed a few seconds to even understand what was said:

  "Huh?"

  "This weird bus adrenaline! It's always kind of sad, at least it was like that for me too" She said while practically rubbing her face against Alex's, "But let me tell you a secret: Salem will never be the best part! We have many places to visit even before there!"

  "Is that talk about 'the true treasure are the friends you made along the way?"

  Steph lightly punched her arm, even though she was laughing:

  "I'm serious, okay? The good part is that we'll never know if Salem will really be our final stop. Maybe we'll walk into a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Ohio and decide that's where we belong."

  "Is that what happened when you stopped in Haven Springs?"

  "No..." She admitted, "But that hope always wanted to get me out of there."

  Alex still appreciated how much the other tried to cheer her up, so she decided to shrug her shoulders, giving up:

  "Who knows, right? We might not even stop anywhere! Let's just keep traveling. We just need to get temporary jobs to buy a van."

  "Then we can make a short list: ‘places to visit before death'! We will travel the country!"

  "And then we'll go down to Latin America. Somewhere has to be our place."

  "Or no place will ever be our place!"

  "You make it look like a good thing." She chuckled.

  "You understand me, Alex."

  That simple sentence cut the conversation short. Alex lifted her head from her shoulder, then made eye contact with Steph. She had said the last sentence simply, as if she was joking. However, the way she was looking at Alex now, it was as if she had confessed to something much bigger, which she had been keeping inside for a long time.

  The color purple washed over Steph.

  Alex smiled.

  Maybe she wasn't so wrong about affection and love.

[impossiblepackage]

We left our comfortable homes behind and began our trek eastward. We found a promising location beside a river and a great hill some 10 stories tall. As we looked about the immediate area, the wheel of the wagon fell off, which made the decision to stay much easier.

We were in a peaty bog, beside a large hill, and across the river from the red sands of that terrible desert. A quick survey from the top of the hill showed us a bounty of plants to forage, many beautiful feathertrees, and the desert stretching out far beyond the horizon.

There were some otters and a snapping turtle in the river, along with a great many fish. And another creature, in the sand.

An elf, carrying a stringed instrument, was standing in the desert, just watching us work. We made a mental note to keep an eye on her, and got to digging. We had barely finished digging out a first farming room when an abhorrent sludge began to fall from the sky. Thankfully, it seemed confined to the desert, but that poor elf was caught in it. We took pity, and hastily constructed a rickety bridge and urged her to come inside. Considering the circumstances, I hope she doesn't mind that its made of wood.

Punching through the aquifer was troublesome, as it was deeper that expected, but Ber the miner did an admirable job. We had to go 15 stories beneath the surface before we got through and the real work could begin. It was the 20th of Slate when we finally started hollowing out our new home.

I laid out a simple floor plan. A carpenter's shop on one side, jeweler and stoneworker on the other, and dining hall, with kitchen and brewery attached. The floor below would have bedrooms, and some food storage.

Or, at least, the floor below WOULD have those things. Instead, while carving the stairs down to where the bedrooms would go, Ber mined his way into a cavern. The floor of the cavern was very muddy, so I decided we had best farm down there, instead. Our crops would like the cavernous soil much more than the peat above. Ber became the manager, and set our stoneworker Zutthan to work making blocks for the wall we were about to build in the cavern.

Summer went by quickly, with little to report. We started cutting gems for trade. A wandering monster slayer found their way here, and offered to hang around and kill anything lurking in the caverns. Some new migrants came, one of whom is a talented armorer. We also began construction of a larger bridge across the river, in case somebody comes by on the wrong side of it. There are quite a few rutherers down in the caverns, large four-legged creatures covered in thick fur. At one point one of them snuck up through the fortress, and wandered off into the desert. Poor beast.

Ah! The first trade caravan arrived, and I've completely forgotten to build a depot! We got it built in time, but still! We traded for some leather and cloth, some rock nuts to plant later, a mixture of food, to give us some more variety.

The rest of autumn was fairly uneventful. A giant cave spider was spotted in the caverns, but we locked the door up tight and it stayed away. We built a grand gate to seal up the front door in case of emergency, and started smoothing the walls up. More monster slayers have offered to stay, but I turned them away so far. And the damn cats keep leaving fluffy wambler remains all over the place!

Just before winter ended, I carved out a small room to use as a rudimentary temple, to keep our spirits up. Eventually that room could be used for something else, and a better temple built elsewhere, but it'll do for now.

The elf from before has been spending some time there, and has actually been making friends with Zutthan, our stone carver. That bard hasn't done any work, or even officially petitioned to stay, but Zutthan likes her anyway. It's funny, because Zutthan is not a musical dwarf whatsoever, but maybe a song while carving out the rock isn't so bad?

In the last month of winter, something like 20 crundles were seen in the caverns. They ventured too close to our cavern entrance, forcing us to close it up for now. Nobody was hurt, thankfully, but our resident monster slayer will have to wait a while before heading back out there. I hope he's alright. He's been upset and depressed ever since he got here. Apparently he's just like that, but I'm hoping a little time off will cheer him up a bit.

Just before the end of the year, I spied a demon rat running around in the desert's muck. Awful creature.

But the year is ended. It was uneventful, overall. We have bedrooms, food, drink, a place to eat, a place to pray, and we've started making some crafts to sell to the next caravan. They'll be bringing lots of seeds next year. You can never have too many, I always say. But anyway, it's time for me to retire, do some whittling, and cook some food.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/14/23

oops! all friend recs edition. this post brought to you by viewers like you. thank you!

listening

green day's last ride in, courtesy of @dying-suffering-french-stalkers. this DOES belong on a daisuke jigen lupinthethird playlist ur correct. not quote four minutes of a laid back, surf rock instrumental. above all this is the american genre of music that Wants you to think it sounds effortlessly cool, and jigen is one of very few fictional characters who puts that much work into looking effortlessly cool.

ran across some apocryphal reddit posts that are like "yeah they came up with this riff during a sound check and liked it so much they decided it didn't need lyrics". sure i'll buy that!

-

reading

The Skylark of Space by E.E. "Doc" Smith, courtesy of @believerindaydreams. restarting this audiobook available through my library, which is apparently the 1946 hardcover edition that differs wildly from editions before and after. what are those differences? who can say! i cannot easily find a breakdown!

critical reception of this book was mixed. i think the criticisms about scientific plausibility (even by 1919 standards) and dialogue are warranted. doc smith was a chemical engineer, who are certainly. types of guys. most of the fun of this book (for me) comes in recognizing the building blocks of the space opera. i like peeling up the seams and following this novel's construction decisions. i don't fully agree that this is where space operas started, but arguments about how it's the most imitated space opera are convincing.

it's quite rare i listen to an audiobook bc my ears are not friends with my brain, and it's easier to listen to chattier podcasts where if i tune out for a moment i don't miss much. the reader? performer? reed mccolm has a voice i do better with (neutral american accent in the baritenor range). i don't really know if i'd find the paper version easier or harder to follow, bc mr mccolm is doing his absolute fucking best with the voicework but doc smith does not seem overly fond of dialogue tags. it is occasionally difficult to figure out who's speaking.

a line that made me stop folding laundry and yell HELLO??? out loud: "Each girl looked at the other, and liked what she saw." unfortunately no gay shit seems to be going on, but we spend a fuck of a lot of time in this chapter going over how the spaceship works, so it's very possible they're engaging in quiet bisexualism in the background and doc smith has simply not noticed. gay shit going on in the background is not critical to our understanding of how the spaceship works.

-

watching

What's Up Doc? (1972, dir. Bogdanovich) courtesy of @nikkifromtabs. i had a fucking marvelous time with this screwball comedy. i could not give you any of the finer details of the plot or who has what bag when but i enjoyed every goddamn minute. as i write this on monday night it is singlehandedly responsible for improving a miserable day. MANY short sharp barks of laughter

i love screwballs but they tend to stress me the fuck out-- bringing up baby is verging on a horror movie for me. even though streisand's character would be the very best of friends with hepburn's character in bringing up baby, this movies stresses me the fuck out WAY less. perhaps its bc it feels more like a stage play, or more deliberately humorous, or just that the stakes feel way lower. the mile a minute dialogue is best appreciated with subtitles

can we go back to the halycon days when dudes were not waxed bare and dangerously dehydrated in order to have a shirtless scene? ryan o'neal is a handsome if slightly bland man and he looks like Just Some Guy with his shirt off. great! love it! give me more!

i was going to write a whole little thing about "everyone is beautiful and no one is horny" but we can boil it down to "seventies beauty standards are wildly different from today's" and "everyone in this movie is almost always too busy sliding in and out of various scrapes to be horny"

kung fu hustle, arsenic & old lace, and this movie are now in a three-way tie for my favorite comedy.

-

playing

Dead Man's Rest courtesy of @jaimehwatson who recced this nearly three years ago and @pasta-pardner who gifted it to me last week. i have played it for three hours got three different routes and none of them are "happy". are any of them happy? is this a commentary on the inherent tragedy of revenge and the inherent tragedy of the american western, never able to escape stolen dreams on stolen land? the tyranny of the small business/farm owner only able to exist on a mountain of skeletons and heavy subsidies from the government? i am rotating this game in my mind at helicopter speeds.

also chase i agree with you this sheriff is definitely supposed to be lee van cleef

storytelling: it is uneven at best. the native american love interest's route is a particular weakness. as a review on steam said, it reads very much like the only media the devs consumed researching this was disney's pocahontas. there are some very moralistic and defensive statements throughout other routes as well that read like the devs trying to get ahead of any accusations, which makes this game much weaker as now it is neither a product of its time or ours. the mystery does unfold in a way that surprised me, and you have to go through multiple different routes with multiple people in order to get more of the solution. this is very hard to pull off and i liked this murder mystery/tragedy aspect of the game very much. i am not a mlm so i can't really comment on whether or not these romances are fulfilling, although they are straight up gay and there isn't a bisexual reading that can be applied. i, noted bisexual cowboy enjoyer, was a little disappointed that the MC cannot have a bisexual reading applied to him, he does seem very firmly at one end of the kinsey scale.

construction: there are four different ways of presenting dialogue. there are SO many routes in this thing and i feel like standardizing the text boxes would have made their lives easier? i do appreciate the vibes-based subtitles for the music and sfx. this is startlingly good caption work for a tiny idie studio.

is it "good"? did i have a "good time" playing it? fuck if i know. compels me tho.

-

making

this one is For a friend but it fits the theme. baby blanket progress, about a repeat and a half in. the tentative baby date is march 5th and the tentative blanket date is uhhh probably end of may? at this pace?

[shamelessfangirl204-blog]

Dagger Attack Pt. 1

It’s been a while since I wrote something, so take it easy on me maybe. 😂 

Summary: Maverick’s daughter, Lauren “Viper” Mitchell is top of her class of Top Gun fighter pilots, much like how her father was, as well as her long time boyfriend, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. When the time comes for the mission, Maverick choose Rooster to be his wingman, leaving Lauren to listen to the chaos back on the ship.

Many of Top Gun’s top graduates had been called back for a special mission. A dangerous mission, one we were all made very aware that someone may not come back home from. We were all eager to be apart of it, despite our obvious fears of not coming home, or seeing our friends not coming back. We all did our best, worked harder than we ever had, to get ready for the mission and to stand out enough to be chosen to go. Rooster and I had talked about it from the moment we learned the entirety of what might happen. The reality was, Mav was probably going to choose one of us. That was if he could get past his feelings, it couldn’t be an easy thing to do. Choosing between his daughter and his best friends son. Granted, Rooster and my dad didn’t talk for a really long time after Brad found out that Mav had removed his papers from the academy. 

But we knew he would choose one of us at the end of the day. And it terrified both of us. Knowing that one of us would get chosen, and may not return home to the other. So, every time that we had the chance, we would spend every second together making happy memories with one another so that we would be able to look back at them later on. Rooster said that’s what really helped him get through the loss of both his parents, “Whenever I was really missing them, I would think about one of the thousands of memories I have with them. I don’t know, it somehow made it easier. Maybe it’ll work for this too.” He spoke softly as we both laid in our shared bed the night before the mission. His fingers were slowly raking through my hair, and my hand was placed on his chest gently tracing over the scars from his previous accidents. 

“I don’t want us to go into this acting like it’s gonna be one of us that crashes...” I whispered softly and stopped tracing one of the scars, hoisting myself up onto my elbows to look down at Bradley. “Mav taught all of us everything we need to survive this mission. We don’t know for sure that someone isn’t coming home. Or that it’ll be one of us.” I saw his face soften, then his jaw clenched as he lifted his hand to brush a strand of hair back behind my ear. “Laur, you know the odds. And a mission like this...” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Nobody has ever done a mission like this, and people have died on other missions that were more simple than this. We have to be prepared to face the facts.” His voice was raspy, I could hear the sleep creeping up on him. 

My own jaw clenched now looking at his still tight. Without saying a word, I laid my head back down on his chest, and we both said nothing the rest of the night. It was an hour later when I finally heard his soft snores and I clinched my eyes shut feeling the tears beginning to swell.

...

We all stood at attention in front of my dad, who I could tell was still fighting with his decision. “It’s been an honor, flying with all of you. This is a very specific mission, requiring very specific skills. My choices are reflections of that and nothing more.” Before he could say anything else, Cyclone instructed him to choose his Foxtrot teams. “Payback and Fanboy. And Phoenix and Bob.” My heart dropped hearing Phoenix and Bob. Phoenix was my best friend, she helped me get through basic training, and we always flew together during our time in Top Gun. She had to come home. “And your wingman,” Cyclone instructed dad to speed along the selection. After a few paces, he finally answered, “Rooster.”

I closed my eyes and looked down at the ground as we were released from attention. Everyone started to congratulate those who were selected, as well as wish them luck. I lifted my head and looked over at Rooster who looked terrified. I didn’t blame him, I was petrified. But we were trained for this, it was going to be okay. It had to be. Quickly, I walked to Phoenix who quickly engulfed me in a hug, and started to say her ‘if I don’t come back’s. But I stopped her as soon as she started, “Hey, you’re the best of the best. Okay? You’ll come home. And when you do, drinks are on me alright?” She gave me a weak smile and a quick nod, “Right. I’ll hold you to it.” 

I walked over to Rooster, and did my best to keep my game face on for his sake. He could see right through me though, “I know. We knew it would happen right? It’ll be alright,” he gently pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “You have to come home...” I said softly tucking my head into his chest. He placed his head on top of mine, and let out a deep breath, “I’ll be home. Keep the light on for me?” He asked in a joking tone, trying his best to lighten the mood which he usually did so easily. This time, I’m not so sure it was working. But I smiled up at him anyway, and said, “Deal.”

TO BE CONTINUED

So I definitely didn’t plan for this to be more than one part, but here we are. I’m not too sure when part 2 will be out. But if you made it to the end, thank you! 

[kaybreezy3000]

The Anti Hero's Pitfall of Arrogance

Five Hargreeves / Female OC

What happens when you disarm an exceptionally arrogant person, one that is a self-absorbed, teleporting, teenaged superhero?

The answer is not great things.

Get ready for a taste of Five like you've never had before...

(Chapters Three and Four Post)

- This AU starts off when the Hargreeves are 16 and but is based off the show. It's going to give you a look inside Five's mind at that time of his life and not all of it is good, but I promise it's not all bad. I always make sure to give our boy his day to shine.

Warnings and Tags: sexually explicit content, flashbacks, teen bad behavior, survival horror, bad decisions, regret, POV Five, aggression issues, suffering, humor and angst and fluff, redemption, sweet Five and mean Five in same story, Dolores is a factor, hurt Number Five, Five makes fun and dirty check lists in this one, Young Five is really something, Plot twists and many tags left off to avoid spoiling the story.

Link to Full Summary and Chapter One and Chapter Two

Chapter Three: House On Fire

I followed her.

I felt like I had no choice.

Or maybe I did it because of her very nice-looking butt that was within my hands reach. She wasn’t even trying to cover it, so how could me looking at it be my fault?

Well…maybe she was covering it, but that towel wasn’t doing a great job. It was way too small, and I could see her flawlessly rounded ass cheeks just fine, not that I hadn’t already seen everything else too, but this was all still blowing my mind and I was hardly thinking with my entire brain. 

Even in the very dim light as she was showering, just seeing those perky tits nearly did me in.

My conduct was normally never so rudimentary. I knew that I was acting out of character and that I was better than this.

In my fucked-up brain, I believed that I was better than her, but it was easier to blame my ill-thought-out decision to come in there on anything but myself.

Just the fact that I met up with a girl, all so I could possibly fool around with her was wrong. Me thinking she went to a respected private school somehow made it easier for me to reconcile, but even as dense as I was, I knew that it was something entirely different if the girl was homeless and not at all who she originally appeared to be.

The second she realized I was following her, she let go of my arm and I could have left, but I still didn’t retreat.

That would have been even worse than the first time I blinked away, so I rationalized that was a good enough reason for blindly following her like I was a lost puppy.

What I should have done right then was apologize for showing up like I'd just done after openly blowing her off on the street, and then I also shouldn’t have gaped at her after that, but no, apologizing for either of those things was far from what I did.

It might have been guilt that made me finally pull my eyes off her cute ass, but it was probably just my training kicking in. I glanced around us making sure it was safe. Again, all I saw was the old, deserted workspace where her things were laid out. It was cold, damp, and dark and it didn’t seem right at all, but there appeared to be no immediate danger here.

I nearly ran into her when she stopped and turned my way, and I could tell she thought that was funny because her eyes crinkled at the corners, and she held a hand over her mouth for a second or two in an effort to hide that she was cracking up over my inability to walk.

“Gosh... I can’t believe you are here. I didn’t really think you would come, and then I saw you-" She paused, her smile getting bigger as she carefully hoisted up her bath towel, which showed me less of her chest but offered a better view of her legs. “I am so excited. I am a huge fan of the Umbrella Academy, but mostly that’s because of you.” Even in the dim light I could see her blushing from saying that and I was eating up. “I mean… Oh, my God, that sounds so dumb, I am sorry.”

She looked so worked up over seeing me; it was helping me feel less uncomfortable, but only a little.

“I know this looks bad,” she said, gesturing around her, “but I can explain. This situation is temporary. I swear I’m not a weirdo or anything.” She laughed again ad this time her laugh came out much more openly and I found that I liked the sound of it. It was delicate and feminine, just like her voice and everything about her. “Not that people living on the streets are weirdos or anything, it’s just that something bad happened and well…” She didn’t finish and I didn’t press her about it, because truthfully, I didn't care about anything other than watching her. 

Being a little less of an ass, I cleared my throat while looking around aimlessly to try and keep my eyes off areas of her that I shouldn’t be looking at, like the drops of water dripping from her hair that then slipped down in-between her breasts.

“Ah, yeah," I mumbled, acting totally unaware of what she was talking about. "Sorry about that. At first, I didn’t realize that was you on the corner.” My eyes continued to dart anywhere but at her as I anxiously rubbed the back of my neck and continued lying. “I mean, I didn't recognize you without that school uniform on,” I clarified, before I stupidity rambled on. “I read your note. It sounded like you had something important you needed to see me about. Being available to help people is sort of what we do. I am here, so...”

She said nothing, so I raised a brow at her, indicating that she needed to lead this.

Going with the ‘Superhero, here at your service’ thing was such a dumb thing to say, because helping your normal average people on the street was not at all what Reginal Hargreeves was about or what we normally did at The Umbrella Academy, but seeing as most my blood wasn’t pumping to my brain, that was all I had.

Her eyes widened with what I assumed was recognition, and her hands tightened around her towel as I did my best to level a hard stare at her again.

“Uhm, wah-w-would you just give me a second,” she stuttered. “I just… I am sorry, I’m so nervous. I still can’t believe it’s really you, like the real live Five Hargreeves, with me, here.”

She bit her lower lip with her upper teeth as her eyes trailed up and down, taking me in like I was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen.

“Ah… I just need to-”

She quickly bent down, frantically digging through a plastic bag with what appeared to be clothing in it.

“I can’t imagine what you think of me,” she said as she waved her hand at all her things, “of all this, and-" She looked up from her crouched position. “You know, with this place and my whole improvised shower thing. Since I thought you changed your mind about meeting me, and it started to rain, I figured I may as well enjoy a rinse, but you are probably thinking all sorts of things about me doing that,” she added, snatching a shirt out of her pile.

“I don’t think anything, and I didn’t see anything," I replied, way too quickly, but I'd already lied once, and she didn’t call me out on it, so I figured that I may as well lie again because she obviously was too rattled to call me out on it. 

“Oh... Okay.” Her lips pulled to the side like something was bothering her. “I only wore that uniform because I wanted to look less…” she looked down at her hands, “-less me, I guess. It's just, when I heard about the press conference today, I jumped at the chance to go and I wanted to look nice, so that’s why I wore that.” Her head very slowly shook side to side, then she looked back up. “I did go to that school, but I don’t anymore.”

“Sure,” I indifferently retorted as I tucked both my hands in my pockets rather that anxiously fiddle with my blazer's lapels.

With a puff of air to blow my hair out of my eyes, I tipped back on the balls of my feet in an effort to look as cool and calm as possible.

“That’s…ah, fine," I added. "I wasn’t trying to make it seem like it matters or anything So, yeah... I am going to just look over this way so you can-” I pulled my hand out of my pocket, gesturing the other way, then I turned, giving her a moment to make herself decent.

Behind me, I could hear more rustling, then a few seconds later, the area we were standing in lit up with a warm glow of light. It totally took me off guard, and despite the fact that the girl was trying to get dressed, I immediately turned back her way.

My mouth gaped as I breathed, “What the-"

Her big blue eyes looked startled as I felt.

“It was so dark in here. Isn’t this better?” she worriedly asked, interrupting me from asking how in the hell she managed to light so many candles that fast.

I nodded an affirmative yes, as I thickly swallowed.

My mouth felt dry, and my hands felt so unbelievably hot.

I could see her much better now. She wasn’t fully naked or in her little towel anymore, but she was only wearing a long white t-shirt and it didn’t appear to be her size because it was falling off one of her shoulders, exposing her slender upper arm and the delicate curve of her collar bone. Behind her, I could see that along the ledge of dirty windows that faced out to the factory floor, she had dozens of candles that I hadn’t noticed before, and each one and many of the others that were strewn about were all lit. There were at least thirty or more, but I never heard a strike of a match or the flick of a lighter.

“How’d you-"

She raised a hand, stopping me because when she did, I got a glimpse of her lacey little red panties. Then I turned red, and she giggled at my gawking wide-eyed reaction to that.

“I’m making you uncomfortable,” she taunted.

“No.”

I knew my fast answer was as unconvincing as all my others, but I couldn’t help it.

The girl inched closer.

“Hey, I promise I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to,” she purred. “I meant it when I said that you are my favorite member of the Umbrella Academy. I really did want to meet you and that was in part because I figured you would be the only one willing to listen to me, but I really like you too, Five.”

She was right in front of me now. I held my ground. Something felt off, but when she reached out and took my wrist, pulling my hand out of my pocket, I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let her pull me closer.

“Why am I your favorite?” I quietly asked.

She smiled. “Because you are extremely smart. You always seem to be a million steps ahead of the rest.”

In the glowing candlelight I could see her cheeks light up from saying that, but it only made her look more beautiful. 

“You are my favorite because you are, well… Because you are so-” She looked down, eyeing my neck or maybe my tie, I wasn't sure. “I feel so silly saying this to you, because you are you, and you are famous, and so incredible and everything, but you are my favorite because you are so charmingly mannered and serious all the time and because you are so uniquely handsome."

With each thing she said, I felt like my brain could not compute. “You think I am handsome?” I asked, sounding like a complete buffoon.

“Yes, I do. I have a huge crush on you. I think you are so hot,” she breathed as her fingers ran across the inside of my palm. She twisted one foot around her opposite ankle and her knee bumped into my leg, brushing against my nerdy knee sock.

She was so close. All I wanted to do was touch her.

Again, my eyes felt drawn to her body, especially to her chest because I could see plain as day that she was chilled from the night air coming in from outside.

When I looked back up, she quirked a brow, confidently holding my hungry stare. Her long lashes fluttered as she leaned in expectantly and one of her hands fell against my chest with a teasing softness.

“It’s pretty clear that you like what you see too,” she said, followed by another giggle. “I don’t mind if you do. I am glad you find me attractive. I may have been dangling an intentional carrot when I promised to make this worth your while. But that's only because I really wanted you to come tonight. I did ask you to meet me because I needed to talk to you about something important, but we can definitely do more than talk if you want that. I really, really like you, Five, like a lot."

Her toes bumped my shoes and my eyes moved down to see there was no space left between us.

“It looks like you want to touch me. Do you?”

“Yes," I said as my voice shook.

My answer was so pathetically soft, but I felt at a loss for words, so I was lucky anything came out. This girl was all I could think about, and she was knocking me off my game big time.

Her smile looked so sincere. “I’m all yours then."

Holy shit. This was it.

This is what I came for, so…

Leaning in, I tilted my head down like I assumed you should do if you’re going to try and kiss someone slightly shorter than you. She silently reciprocated my small overture, clearing the distance between us.

My eyes automatically shut.

Then, as if I was having an outer body experience, I felt my mouth pressing against hers.

Wow.

Her lips were smooth as silk. I could smell her even better now; the flowery scent and heat of her body were pulling my mind out of that dank factory and taking away all my usual anxieties and racing thoughts.

All I felt was her.

Right then, I understand why people did this.

I was finally getting what all the fuss was about and why my brothers were constantly going on and on about it.

Who knew that something as simple as kissing was so awesome?

I am sure that I grazed her mouth too hard at first, but I didn’t know how to do it. That was the point in coming there. I didn’t know how to do any of this, but I found that I was desperately wanting to know, and lucky me, I was getting exactly what I came for.

Thoughts of me being better than her, and her being a homeless teenager, one that obviously wasn’t in the best situation, faded far into the recesses of my mind. Everything that normally bogged me down became just more background noise like the steady thrum coming from the rain.

Feeling the warm pressure of her lips against mine sent a rousing prickling sensation up and down my spine. I felt like every one of my nerve endings ignited, and I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her, but instead, I let up because I didn’t want to scare her off. I didn’t want to pull away from this feeling yet, but thankfully she didn’t want it to end either. As soon as I stopped kissing her, she advanced, pushing her mouth to mine again. 

She still had one of my hands in hers and my other hand felt like it needed to be somewhere other than dangling uselessly at my side, so the next thing I knew, it was resting on her slender waist. The cotton fabric of her shirt slid under my hand as my fingers dug into her hip, latching on. She wasn’t trying to get away, but something in me, something that I didn’t quite understand, wanted her as close as possible and needed to make sure she didn't leave me just yet.

Her lips parted against mine and feeling that, I let my tongue dip inside her mouth like I'd heard you should do. She allowed it and even massaged my tongue back with hers.

It felt unreal and I felt very, very erotically wet and hot.

First time seeing a real naked chick (other than in one of Diego’s Playboys that he kept under the floorboard under his bed): Check

First kiss: Check.

First ‘French’ kiss: Check

This one experience was such a great idea. I would have no shortage of things to lord over my moronic brothers if they were making fun of me and I felt the need to shut them down.

A few minutes later, after more soft tongue twisting, I risked moving my arm around her so that my hand was laying across her lower back and, in doing so, the sexiest sound came out of her. Then to even further prove that she was enjoying this as much as me, she pushed her curvy little body flush with mine, her hip falling even more perfectly between my legs.

My first reaction was to move myself back to a safer distance because I was sure that she could feel my dick and that’s because I sure as hell could feel it. I’d been fighting a hard-on since I first saw her buck naked and I was steadily losing that fight the longer I was in her presence.

Oh, but fuck she felt so good. God help me...

Instead of shying away from my body’s response to her, it seemed that she was loving it. She rubbed her body against my pelvic region and that sealed it. There was no slowing down that not so little physiological reaction I was having.

I could feel my dick getting full hard. Before this, when my hands were in my pockets, I had tried to conceal how turned on I was by tucking it up under the waistband of my briefs in the trusty hide your boner method, but now that was doing little to nothing in hiding the fact that I was very turned on.

When our lips finally parted, I was noticeably breathless, but so was she as she asked, “Do you want me to touch you?”

I didn’t know what she meant. I was touching her, and she was already touching me. As I kissed her, she moved her hands up around my shoulders. Her fingers had been gently moving through the hair at the nap of my neck the entire time and it felt so God damn amazing.

When I didn’t answer her question, she lowered one of her hands, taking one of mine under hers. She took it off her hip, placing it back on her ass in an assertive way that caused a smacking sound on impact. It made me startle at first, but I also couldn't begin to hold in my growing smile over how much I liked that.

She giggled as my fingers splayed across the thin lacy fabric covering her. Trying to make her smile even more, I dipped a finger under the fabric over one of her cheeks as I held my breath in a failed attempt to contain my elation over her letting me do this.

“You can touch me, Five. I want you to,” she assured even though it was already apparent that she was fine with this.

After that open invitation to do more, my other hand joined in the fun, groping her butt cheeks. They were firm yet jiggly and so unbelievably exciting to play with. I cupped them possessively, just enough to lift her off the floor a tiny bit. She seemed to like it and I did too and not just because that caused the weight of her to press into me in the most pleasurable way. She was so easy to lift; it made me feel so powerful and that was not a feeling I was used to. I won nearly every match between me and my siblings during training, but that was not because I was big and strong. My only sibling smaller than me was Vanya, and she and I only had interactions that were in conversation, not combat.

With a smile, I dove back in, kissing her even more confidently. It was sloppy and fucking fantastic, and her reaction to it was great.

There was no mistaking her wiggly hips trying to drive me even more nuts as they rolled against my erection.

This was crazy. I knew that. But I didn’t want to stop.

She felt so perfect. She tasted so damn delicious; like she’d been eating fruity flavored candy. I loved the way her mouth felt as it moved with mine. I loved how her body felt under my hands as I let them explore just a little more freely. Moving up the back of her shirt, my palm slid along her velvety skin, edging upwards.

The girl clearly meant that she liked me and that I could touch her as I wished because when I went for it, tickling my fingers across the side of her breast, she made another one of those amazing little noises.

I broke our heated kiss. “Is this okay?” I asked, wanting to be sure before I did anything else.

“Yes. What you are doing feels so good, Five. Touch me however you want,” she breathlessly assured, her swollen lips parting in a soft gasp as I let my fingers trail over her chest. I let her nipples catch between my fingers, relishing in how hard they were, but I was still too jumpy to stay and play with them more than that even though I was all but salivating as I thought about diving under her shirt and taking her with my mouth.

Feeling up a girl’s warm and so soft and tantalizingly squishy boobs: Big Boner Check!

Her head tipped back, and her eyes closed as I continued to let my fingers explore and I carefully studied her responses.

“Are you cold?” My question came out slightly cocky, but I couldn’t help it. Her tits were so hard! I knew she liked this.

Her eyes slowly opened as a cute smirk pulled her lips to the side. “No. I am far from cold. In fact, I don’t usually get cold like normal people do.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s my magical superpower and it makes it much easier when taking a shower in the rain or when you’re trying to stay warm on particularly cold nights when you are forced to sleep outside. But even with my talents, I am not planning on staying around here for winter,” she replied as I pressed her up against me just a little tighter, letting her hips dance against the bulge in my pants that was dying for as much attention as it could get.

“Where are you going?” I mindlessly asked because I was only a tiny bit focused on our conversation.

The girl’s hand moved under my blazer. I could feel her trying to work up the bottom of my knitted vest as she answered. “I’m not sure yet, but somewhere warmer. After everything, I think that I need a fresh start.”

When she was done running her warm hand under my shirt and over my abs, she pulled it free then dropped it down over the stretched wool fabric of my shorts, and there was no preventing the groan like noise that followed.

“Oh my God, that feels so good. Please don't stop," I breathed as she worked her hand over me.

Getting my boner felt up by a hot chick: Check!

My hair fell over my closed eyes as my body leaned into her touch. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn't help rutting into her hand to increase the sensation.

“Like I said, Five, I really like you,” she whispered alongside my ear, further sending electrifying tingles across my overheated skin.

With each hard pass of her hand over the fabric of my shorts, I felt myself winding tighter. The reality that she could make me come in my pants by simply groping my dick through my clothes was becoming a very real prospect with each second that passed, but to only further add to my inability to back away and my dismay, she started to lower herself.

“What are you doing?” I frantically asked.

I seriously didn’t know, and I urgently felt the need to pull her back up so I could bury my face against her neck and she could continue to touch me like that.

As I gazed down at her in question, her fingers quickly popped the button holding my waistband closed, and no sooner had she done that, then she was examining my fly. As her fingers pulled down the tiny piece of metal holding my zip up, both my hands flung downwards to prevent my dick from springing out in her face, but she smiled up at me with those beautiful sparkling ocean eyes of hers, looking like she was not at all concerned about that happening.

“I want you to like me too, Five. I want to do this for you and for me. I want to make you feel good,” she said.

I didn’t know what to say to that. My mind was spiraling and coming up with zero.

When her hand came up, moving my hands aside, I didn't fight it.

“Oh fuck!” I moaned as she leaned in and pressed her hot lips over the thin fabric cover of my cotton boxers.

Her warm hand pushed aside my pants as she began placing the softest kisses up my entire length.

“Has anyone ever done this for you before?” she asked, letting her words vibrate my aching tip.

The fabric of my underwear was wet from my pre-cum and when she licked at it and then happily smiled up at me afterwards, I croaked out a very embarrassing, “No, never.”

She beamed even more over my answer, then she began working my shorts and my briefs down my trembling legs.

“I’m surprised to hear that,” she mused as her warm hand tenderly ran back up my left leg and then reached over to tug where my pants got stuck on my other thigh.

Her eyes flit up to mine as I watched her shuffling my clothing down as far as she could. Once she had my uniform shorts and underwear down to my knees, I widened my stance in anticipation of her jerking me off because that’s what I figured was going to happen because she was already stroking me.

It felt odd but also so empowering as I stood over her, watching her seemingly taking pleasure in pleasuring me. I was having all sorts of dirty thoughts about doing more to her, but I kept them to myself as I focused on her hand moving where only mine had ever been before.

“Five Hargreeves, you aren’t what I expected.” When our eyes met, her grin told me that she meant that as somewhat of a joke, but in what way exactly, I didn’t understand, and at the moment, I didn’t care. “I figured by how eager and wonderful you are at kissing, that someone with your sexy skills and fame, would have had plenty of opportunities to get sucked off.”

Just hearing her say that made my cock twitch and more liquid slowly drip out of me, but the moment her lips molded around my swollen bulb of flesh, that’s what made me lose it.

I helplessly swayed backwards. The sudden shuffling of my feet and the scuffing sounds of my shoes as I miraculously stopped myself from falling, all mixed with my uncontained squeak of a moan, and it made it sound like something bad was happening to me and I was trying to get away, but that was far from it.

“You really want to do this?” I asked even though she was already sucking on my dick as the words came sputtering out of my mouth.

Her tongue swirled around before she popped her mouth off and she grinned at me with those cherry red lips.

“Yes, I do, but I have only done this two other times and that was with the same guy. I have only been with one person Five, and from what I understand of it, everyone likes it differently, so don’t be scared to help me make this better for you.”

Well, that little piece of information definitely helped ease my worries about STDs, and it also helped ease the lingering thought that maybe she was not only homeless, but maybe that she was also the type to try and earn money by hanging out on dark street corners picking up drunk strangers on their way home from bars.

I nodded that I understood what she meant by helping her even though I didn’t, then she placed her mouth on me again and began really working me over.

On her knees, her face was at the perfect height for this as she bobbed her head, letting her mouth wet my length, inch by inch. Gazing down at her as she performed this act on me, I very gently placed my hand on her head, feeling her damp hair slip under my fingers before I gently tucked it back behind her ears so I could see what she was doing better.

Getting my dick sucked: Ch-Check yeah!

This was turning into way more than I could have ever imagined. I was knocking off sexual millstones at an alarming rate, but I was normally fast and good at everything I did, so excelling at this wasn’t really anything that shocking, and in that glorious moment, I found myself feeling pretty damn pleased with myself about it.

The sight of my dick moving in and out of her mouth was enough to make me feel like I could do anything. My hips very slowly began to push towards her mouth each time she took me in. This got her making tiny moaning noises of her own and I also found that she was taking me deeper with each thrust, so it had to be okay.

“You are so good at this,” I encouraged because saying that seemed like the right thing to do, and that smart move got me rewarded with her free hand falling over mine where it was still gently resting on her head, her fingers lacing with my own.

I was confused at first, but when she applied pressure to the back of my hand, essentially forcing my dick deeper in her mouth, I got it.

“Are you sure?” I breathed as my feet shifted, causing a deep squeaking sound followed by a sharp squeak as one of my shoes slipped on the water that must have dripped from her hair on to the floor. The old floorboards creaked again as I dug in, looking for any kind of traction as I started to pump my hips a little harder even though she hadn't replied yet.

She made a sound that had to mean yes, and that was it. My entire body felt like it was already quivering in anticipation of my release, but that didn’t stop me from taking her by the back of the head like she had shown me so I could fuck her mouth at the very brutal pace I was used to jerking myself.

All at once, the hand she had been using to assist in blowing me was down at my tensely flexed thigh, and it was joined by her other hand on my other leg shortly after my throbbing dick started to slam down what her throat.

I could see and feel her gagging a few times, but she contained that reaction very quickly. Her short nails dug into my skin, but other than that, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to stop, so I didn’t.

The familiar tension was building in my balls, and I knew the inevitable was coming. Breathing in quick shallow puffs of air as I took a few final marvelous feeling diggers at her wonderful mouth, I finally let up on her hair, letting go of her completely.

The pulsing heat was on its way.

I tried to step back, shifting my weight on one foot to back away and pull out, but she held me tight, even moving one of her hands up to cling to the bottom of my academy jacket so I couldn't escape.

My entire body shuddered as her mouth continued to glide over me. She swallowed my waves of pleasure as they tore out of me, and her other hand made sure to help drain every last quivering ounce of seed I was spurting as she milked my shaft.

I could hardly see straight. My eyes kept falling shut as I shook all over. Feeling beyond dizzy, I’d have to force them open again as I held on to her shoulders because I honestly needed the support her small frame was giving me.

It probably took me a full minute to focus my vision. When I did, I saw that she was still on her knees, but I already knew that her mouth wasn’t on me anymore. The girl’s cheeks were very red, and her eyes looked watery. She was even sniffling a little.

As the euphoria faded, my feelings of deep remorse began creeping in. I was way too rough. I forced myself down her throat, gagging her and cutting off her ability to breathe and for some reason she let me do it, but still, I shouldn't have.

Even as she wiped at her eyes and started to stand up, she tried to smile, clearly making an effort to ease my worries.

Her trembling lips looked so beautiful. I didn't understand it, or her, especially her attraction to me. I had just defiled her and treated her like my own personal cum dump, yet she looked like she was in love with me.

Her soft laugh that came out sounding so genuine as she peered up at me and it helped shake off most of the guilt I was struggling very hard to suppress.

“Again, Five Hargreeves, meeting you had been full of surprises, but also not.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I fumbled with my underwear and my shorts, pulling them up and fastening them as best I could because I was still somewhat hard and again had to adjust myself northwards in accordance with that.

“I mean that you know what you want, and you know how to get it. I like that, so please don’t take it as a bad thing. And for the other thing, about not being surprising... Well, yeah. All guys like their dicks sucked," she said with another laugh that I think wasn't to make fun of me, but I wasn't really sure.

As was the norm in my brief conversation with the girl, I didn’t know how to reply to that.

“That was truly an unforgettable experience. You were so good at-" I started to say, but then stopped because the right words to thank her for blowing me wouldn’t form in my mouth.

“Thank you for the compliment.” She chuckled at my ineloquence as she straightened her baggy shirt, but a second later it slid down her slender shoulder again.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she continued to smile. It was as if she was waiting for something else. She probably had a right to be expecting something else from me after what she just did.

I didn't know what exactly that would be or what I should do. Hardly thinking, but at least realizing that I should say something other than a few muttered words, I began rambling again.

“Phoebe, was it?”

She smirked as she shifted her weight just a little, lifting one of her bare feet so her toes were rubbing over the top of one of my dusty black shoes. Her bare foot left a clean streak on top of the hard leather as it whipped away some of the dirt that had gotten kicked up on me from the filthy floor.

“Yes. It’s Phoebe. But you can call me Fee.” She appeared to be laughing off my only now recalling her name. “Everyone who knows me does.”

I didn't know her, but I said, “Okay, Fee.” I ran my hand back over my hair as I glanced around, feeling like a total idiot. “So, ah…you said that you don’t live here?”

“No. This place is temporary. I used to live on campus with my mom. Like I said," she laughed at me again, "I used to go there. My mom was employed by them as an instructor under a work visa, so I was lucky enough to get a chance to apply on a student visa and I got in.”

“Where’s your mom?”

I realized this was all something she mentioned before, and I also realized it was rude of me not to have asked more about her or her situation earlier, but I didn’t mention that or that I had actually thought she probably stole the uniform or that I thought she was probably making it up that she attended such a prestigious school.

“My mom passed away three months ago. They diagnosed her with stage four cancer and things happened very fast after that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but why are you here in a place like this, hanging out on the streets at night?”

For the first time, the girl looked slightly offended. She pulled her foot back from where she had left it next to mine.

She let out a tired sounding sigh. Her eyes looked unfocused as she looked off at a pile of books on the floor next to her bedding. “The reason I am here in this dump is because I had nowhere else to go. Homeless shelters aren’t great or safe, and right now they aren’t an option for me anyway.”

“Don’t you have family?”

“All we had was each other. Mom was an only child and her parents wanted nothing to do with her after she decided to keep me.”

“Why would they do that?”

She shrugged. “Because she was so young. She was doing her own thing, traveling around the world at the time. They weren’t happy about her choice to delay going to university and then when she came home with a baby and wouldn’t tell them anything about how it happened, that was it. They were stuck up, heartless assholes who cared more about their precious reputation than their own child, so they disowned her.”

“Where are your grandparents now?”

She was giving me a look like she didn’t understand why I wasn’t getting this. “For one, those people who left my mom and I to rot are not my grandparents, and two, the last I knew, they are still in France, living just outside of Paris. When my mom was dying, social services and the kind people from U.S. immigration were ready to ship me off to go live with them but I wasn’t having that. I want nothing to do with them and I know the feeling is mutual. They were only taking me in because the law said that they had to.”

“But how are you going to live here?” I stopped and shook my head back at her in disbelief. “I don’t mean here, but like here, in the states. You can’t be much different in age than me, so you can’t live on the streets. If you were on a student visa that would mean you aren't a citizen, right?”

She all out laughed at that and rolled her eyes. “I am almost seventeen, just like you, and my citizenship in the U.S. is a temporary issue, just like my housing situation. I was born in Albania, so technically I guess that means I could claim citizenship there or in France since my mom was French, but I'm not going to do that. I am no child and I'll figure it out. Just like my mom, I am very resourceful.”

“Okay,” I replied sharply, still not understanding what this was all about. “What did you say you wanted to talk to me about? You did say that didn’t you?”

The girl named Fee unfolded arm arms, looking up at me with so much emotion in her expression that I didn’t understand.

“I wanted to tell you that there are others like you out there.”

“What? What do you mean, others like me?”

She licked her lips as her eyes pulled away from mine, looking across the room at the rusty old desk pushed up against the farthest wall. The candles she had grouped together on top of it suddenly flickered. It must have been a gust of wind that blew in from the hole in the roof on the other side of the wall, but to me, it felt like it was getting hotter in there, not colder as the storm outside got stronger and the rain pelted down harder on the roof.

A sad looking smile appeared in place of her other mysterious expression as she looked back up at me.

“I mean that you and your adoptive siblings aren’t the only ones that were born with special powers.”

Taking a step back, I cocked my chin to the side as I narrowed my eyes at her.

“How would you know that? What is this really about? Why do I get the feeling that you are full of shit and that you are trying to get something out of me with all this?”

I shot off that rapid fire of questions and none of them came out very nice, but I couldn't help myself. I was getting very defensive and anxious all of a sudden.

The heat in the room vanished and I could see my breath and hers.

Something felt very wrong.

There was a small puff of air out of her nose and that pretty smile disappeared. “I want a lot of things, but I don’t like what you are implying. I didn’t ask you to meet me so I could get something from you. And I know that there are others like you because I met one of them.”

“Okay, so you say you’ve met one of these other super powered people out there and I’m just supposed to take your word for it? I don’t even know you, so I have no reason to trust a word you say, and what difference does it make if there are other kids like me and my family out there. Why should I care?”

“You should care because Sir Reginal Hargreeves isn’t telling you guys everything he knows and he is clearly using you, and you are right, you don’t know me, but you did just blow your wad in my mouth, so I think that makes us somewhat friendly, wouldn’t you say? You trusted me enough to do that, so why are you being like this to me now?"

My jaw dropped as I clenched my fists at my sides.

“What, you think that you can shower me with compliments and flirt with me and then give me a blow job and then what, I’m going to ask you to come back to the Academy with me and we are going to live happily ever after or some other crazy delusional shit like that?”

Her laughter would have sounded beautiful if it wasn’t coming out to mock me. “Wow! No, that is not what this was about. I told you that I liked you because I do, or I did. Now I feel very stupid for letting myself feel that way about you.”

The girl’s eyes glossed over as she poked a finger at my chest, pushing me back with it, proving that even though she was smaller than me, she was not scared of me, and I didn't like that one bit.

“I actually looked up to you. Fuck!" she furiously yelled as she threw her hands up. "Stupid me because I even idolized you out of all of them! I thought you were different and that you would care to know that you were being lied to.”

“I don’t get it!” I yelled back. “Nothing you just said matters even if it were true. I already know that my dad is using us! There is nothing to idolize about my life, so you were wrong in thinking anything like that involving me. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of us!”

“Yeah, I don’t. You are right about that, but I didn’t idolize you because of your life. I just thought you were something you weren’t. I do know people and when I saw all your fake smiles, I knew that you weren't happy and that you aren’t being given a choice in how you live. I just wanted to let you know that you have one if you are willing to take it. If anything, I wasn’t trying to shack up with you and all the cool kids at the super powered snob academy. I was actually foolishly thinking you might want to leave that place. You don’t owe that horrible man anything for taking you in. You’d be fine if you left him.”

“And how do you know that, huh? You seem to think you know a lot of things, but I really doubt that. I'm also doubting that anything that comes out of your mouth is true.”

If looks could kill, I would have been dead.

“God damn, Five, you are mean when all the walls come crashing down around you," she spat back hatefully. "I never would have guessed you would have been like this.” She laughed away her tears and straightened her back as she stared me down. “You are right. I don’t know everything, but now I can see that you aren't who I thought. You are a total prick who lashes out at anyone that threatens the bogus reality you built around yourself."

“Oh yeah! And what bogus reality are you referring to?”

“The one where you are so terrified of being rejected that you do everything in your power to make it seem like being loved or accepted doesn’t matter to you. You are scared of making yourself vulnerable but it's the only way you will ever get the thing you really want which is acknowledgement. Even big arrogant assholes like you want to be liked. Actually, people like you want it more than anything and I'm pretty sure that’s part of your problem. I know that you and your family aren’t in that place because you want to be. I just thought that maybe knowing that you weren’t alone with your powers out here in this messed up real world would help you see that you could walk away from all that crap, and it would be okay. Like I said, I really liked you, Five. I was wrong to care, but I did.”

My mind was a torrent of thoughts about what she said. It felt like she was deliberately trying to hurt me, and it made me so fucking mad that she was talking about majorly private things like she could see right through me. It was like she knew just how to push my buttons.

I couldn't let her get the better of me.

I had never felt so weak and exposed, not even when I was younger and dad verbally tore me apart, or when he would leave me broken and sick with blood oozing out of my nose and ears from over exertion after one of our lovely private training sessions. He didn’t care about me at all even though I desperately wanted him to. To make that all even worse, it was Grace that would have to scoop my limp body off the floor. My traitorous tears would stain her cheerfully patterned dresses as she did her best to sooth me in her motherly yet robotically programmed way. It was just another hit, another insult among so many others that slowly closed off my heart to the world around me.

“I am not scared of anything, and you don’t know anything about me!" I screamed. "You are a dirty, homeless, Umbrella Academy obsessed slut that is just disappointed that I am not falling for your manipulative bullshit. You have no fucking clue what you are talking about, not about my family, or about what I want!”

I watched her confidence crumble with each cruel word I said.

I smiled.

The candles flickered again, this time the room became fully dark before the flames calmed and it slowly illuminated again. During that confusing and rage-filled moment, she must have swiftly stepped back away from me because now her back was up against the wall, and she was standing on sparkling shards of glass from one of the broken windows. She looked terrified and it was clear that getting away from me was more important than preventing foot lacerations.

My mind was a mess. Her hands were in front of her, held up in a defensive way. She actually thought I was going to try to hurt her and that and seeing her bleeding feet made me even more mad.

“Sure, whatever, just calm down," she said. Her body was visibly shaking, and her voice quivered in fear even though all I had done was yell sort of crazily at her. “I am sorry I wasted my time telling you that stuff. I thought maybe you would have already started to piece all that stuff together and that it was possible you already knew that you guys weren’t the only ones born this way. If you didn’t know, I thought you’d care and maybe you'd at least want to meet my friend, but I see now that you don’t and that this was a big misconception on my part.”

There was a moment of silence and in it, I thought about telling her that I thought she was a lying piece of trash, but something in me knew that was going too far and that it wasn’t fair to do to her after everything that I had already just said and after everything that had just happened between us.

I had no right to call her a dirty slut. If she was one, then I was worse.

None of this was right or fair, not my life or hers, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the truth of that or the things she said, and I unleashed my hatred and resentment on her with no filter.

“Please just leave,” she whispered as her tear-filled eyes fell to her injured feet.

With a sudden flash of blue and an instinctive blink, I did go, but I couldn’t let go but I couldn't let it go.

~~~~~~~

Then the next evening at dinner with my family, I made an even bigger mistake. After agonizing all day over what happened, I found the silence of my siblings ignoring each other, as dad ignored all of us, too much to take. Not even Vanya’s worried looks were enough to thwart my immense anger.

I hated all of this.

I hated my life.

After starting a useless argument about my abilities with dad and getting his usual nonsense that I wasn’t good enough to time travel, with the smile of a mad man pulling on my lips, I took off out of the dining room as he called out begging me to come back.

For the first time ever, Reginald sounded scared.

And he should have been. I was about to ruin my life.

I was about to walk away from it all and leave them and all my pain behind.

Riding high on adrenaline and defiance, at first, I thought I’d done it.

As I propelled my body forward in time, the atoms crackling and snapping as they repeatedly broke apart and pieced back together, I sent myself years ahead of them. I appeared out of my burst of blue swirling light while sprinting down the block away from our home.

I felt free for the first time ever.

I couldn’t control it, but I foolishly thought I could. I kept pushing forward, thrusting my power out like never before and I felt so fucking superior compared to the world around me while doing it.

They were wrong!

That girl was wrong!

Dad was wrong!

I knew that I was better than them and this proved it.

Then, I stopped in my tracks, looking around me, my mind muddled in sudden confusion.

My entire world was on fire.

Panicking, I tried to go back but my power failed me, again and again.

I ran down the block, dodging burning debris as I raced back to my family.

Stopping at the crumbling gates of what was once my home, I watched with tears streaming down my face as the flames and black smoke rose out of the piles of rubble. 

Everything was gone.

They were all dead, and it was just me on what was left of our burning planet, stuck twelve years in the future.

For the first time, I had no one left to blame but myself.

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

Chapter Four: Train Wreck Fucking Dumpster Fire

The funny thing about passing out is you don't remember doing it, but as I come to, it's pretty obvious I fainted.

I am extremely disoriented, and my face feels like it slammed straight into the ground. Consequently, I have several loose teeth. I can still taste the coppery taste of blood in my gummy mouth, and I can feel a disgusting layer of dried spittle on my chin.

I roll over on my back with a low, very pained sounding groan crawling out of me.

I am hardly functioning well enough to take stock of my situation, but I know that I need to. It’s still light out and the ruthless heat hasn’t let up. With an even sicker feeling sinking in, I realize I might be paralyzed from the waist down, because when I try to move my legs, I can’t. After a few more tries, I find that I can move them but it’s extremely minimal.

“Dolores?” I weakly cry.

I can see her. She’s trapped in our cart, watching me splayed out on my back, sizzling like I am laying in a huge frying pan.

My heart feels like it’s trying to jump right out of my chest, and that’s because my body is fighting to maintain its required oxygen levels. I am no doctor, but I am aware that I’m dangerously overheating.

I fall over and over and over as I ineffectively try to get up.

I helplessly cry out again.

This pattern goes on for an undetermined amount of time and that’s because I black out several more times. Each attempt only pushes me further past my limit, causing my blood pressure to drop even lower.

It’s not until waking in the darkness that I am able to stay awake long enough to pull the wagon closer.

I know that I am going to die here and it’s from my own foolish mistakes.

I never should have left the city where I at least knew my surroundings and had some idea of what to expect. Again, my inability to question my own flawed reasoning is what has placed me in the hands of yet another cruel and torturous fate.

As I tug the strap that’s still hooked around me, the tires of my cart slowly roll up next to my side. From there I can wrench myself up enough to reach inside and pull out our bag with filled with the minimal food rations we have left.

I have no actual water, but I am literally dying for even the smallest amount of it. If I don’t get some moisture in me, my organs will start to shut down. My blood is already full of toxic levels of sludge.

‘You have to get up, Five. I’m getting really scared.’ 

“I know. I am sorry. I'm trying,” I say in panting gasps for breath.

My head is pounding, and I can hardly bring myself to say that, even though Dolores deserves so much more from me after all I have put her through.

Struggling to open the tin can with my corroded opener takes every bit of focus and strength I have left. After shakily wolfing down the mystery contents, I drop the rest of the way back down to the ground, falling against the sun hardened soil hard enough to give myself whiplash.

I black out again and I don’t wake until the next day when the sun’s rays are beating down on us all over again. Upon first opening my eyes, I am greeted with the evidence of my dinner on the ground next to my bruised face. I only vaguely remember vomiting.

I still can’t move my legs enough to get myself up and stay up, but I do manage to pull my injured foot within reach, and with extreme difficulty, I eventually get my boot off and roll up my pant leg to examine the damage.

I am greeted with the tell-tale signs of advanced inflammation, rash, and intense red lines streaming from the soiled bandages. The markings move all the way up what I can see of my leg, and I know this is very bad news and it’s the reason I am in such bad shape.

Infection is a big mean bitch and she’s clearly out to get me with vengeance because I am a supreme asshole.

I cleaned the laceration as best I could when it happened, and I covered it and taped over the hole in my boot. I took the antibiotics I had with me in my medical kit, but that evidently wasn’t enough. Some kind of nasty bacteria must have gotten inside the wound anyway. The drugs were expired but I had thought they were still good and not rendered useless by the extreme temperatures they have been exposed to, but like so many other things, I was wrong in thinking that. I was also very stupid to wander after dark in what was left of that house that I came past because that’s when the knife-like shard of glass sliced right through my weathered leather boot and dug deeper in when I tripped and fell further on to it.

Ironically, I am going to die next to a gigantic crater made by what I presume had to have been something from outer space and was also probably the same thing that is responsible for killing everyone else. The size of the hole indicates that the piece of space rock that collided here was big enough to end all life on Earth, so that at least explains what happened. For all I know, this may not be the only place of impact. Based on what seems to be complete ecosystem failure in every direction I have gone, I am betting it isn’t.

Up until now, I could only guess it was the fucking moon or a meter or something like that smashing into Earth that ended it all, because the newspapers I found didn’t have any talk of looming nuclear war and he moon was missing. I had found it very suspicious that my childhood home was destroyed right before the rest of the world was left in ruins, but perhaps the two things had nothing to do with each other. The eyeball Luther was holding likely means nothing world saving and has nothing to do with the lack of lunar activity in my sky, but I’ll never know.

The thought of laying here, again all day, slow cooking until I am gone, with the pain I am already in… I just can’t.

As I start to lose it and hot tears distort my vision, I feel a manic smile pulling at my cracked lips.

“Dolores, this is it,” I hoarsely laugh, crazed over the fact that after suffering over these years here, this is how I go. “If I could just get back, I might be able to save them somehow, but I failed them and everyone else.” One single tear tries to escape the corner of my eye, but it doesn’t make it far. The arid air sucks it away, just like it’s going to soon devour me.

Feeling a final burst of panic and desperation mixed with sheer terror that I am clearly having a problem suppressing, I throw everything I have left into sitting up one more time. Reaching for the wagon, I tip the whole thing on its side, dumping our belongings and my beloved onto the ground next to me.

“I’m sorry,” I gasp over and over as I tow Dolores across the dirt into my arms. My body shudders as I fold myself around her rigid frame, looking for the comfort that she is always willing to give. Even she feels like she’s on fire, but I won’t let her go.

At least we can lay here together, burning.

‘I love you so much,’ she whispers in her unconditional, beautifully compassionate way.

“I know. I love you too, sweetheart. I am so fucking sorry.”

Not at all thinking straight, when I open my eyes again, looking over her shoulder, I see the shiny black revolver laying there. My labored breath catches, and I instantaneously reach for it.

‘Don’t,’ Dolores frantically begs.

She knows the real reason I carry this gun with us, and it isn’t for protection or hunting. There is nothing to hunt and no one we need protection from other than me.

My throat makes a thick, sticky sound when I try to swallow. I can feel my hand shaking as I clamp my eyes shut. The barrel of the gun is painfully hot as I drive it inside my mouth.

‘Please, Five. No!’

God damn it!

Yanking the gun back, I scream as I pull the fucking trigger over and over, sending a deafening round after round out into the nothing around us.

Rage and defeat and pain, that’s all there is left as my hand flops down and I drop the weapon so I can hold her. Again, I tell the only person that ever loved me that I am sorry I failed them as I shut my eyes and wait for the hurt to end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime later, I’m pulled from unconsciousness by something other than the dead silence of our wasteland of death.

Other than the sound of rain, wind, or things that are storm related, there is usually no other background noise in my world. Sometimes the eerie sound of a building collapsing, or even the explosions that were very frequent in those beginning months, could make me look up from whatever pile of rubble I was digging around in, but that is very infrequent these days. There is no reason to look up now.

I stopped hoping to hear real voices a long time ago. This strange sound in the distance isn’t a voice, but it is another human made sound I am familiar with.

The low, echoing bang, bang, bang fills the crater in the vast open space around me, causing the sound to circle back in an impressive refraction of sound.

My breaths are coming so shallow at this point, I know I am not going to make it to nightfall. I feel like I can’t even open my eyes, but my mind is processing this.

Bang, bang, bang....

It happens again in a steady pattern that seems intentional.

I know that sound. I can’t tell what direction it’s coming from, but I know what it is.

It's a powerful gun, one like a rifle and the way sounds when you fire it.

Guns need people to fire them...

But I’m alone. This doesn’t make sense.

Just as I’m drifting off again, it happens again. Three times.

Bang, bang, BANG!

Even though I am hardly thinking, it dawns on me that this is similar to the pattern for Morse code. It’s like someone is sending out a distress signal.

I begin forcing my filmy eyes open, peering out as they burn and blur. Of course, I see nothing other than the heat waves swimming across the ground, creating a mirage effect that makes it look like I’m lying in a river of water, dying by drowning rather than baking like a pathetically skeletal and unsatisfying piece of meat.

Sliding my hand a few inches from where it’s been feebly pressed against Dolores's back, I bump into the revolver.

My stiff fingers wrap around the scorching grip. I am unable to raise my arm, but I twist my wrist enough to fire the weapon out at a small angle from the ground.

The popping sound reverberates in the otherwise motionless air. The sound repeats over and over until it fades away.

I wait because I have nothing else that I can do.

Nothing. Just silence.

I start to think I imagined hearing anything at all.

I shut my eyes again.

I only had one shot left. I left one in the chamber on purpose. That small piece of lead had been my last chance to end my suffering quicker. I had decided I couldn’t do it, but that doesn’t mean that knowing the option was still there wasn't something that was giving me some fucked-up form of solace if I couldn’t take this anymore.

The hope that someone is out there is what circles around and around in what is left of my mind as I drift off into the fiery nothing that makes my parched body rack in waves of fevered chills until even that subsides again.

~~~~~~~~~~~

My mind is gone, lost to the insanity of my thirst. I know this because I swear, I just heard a braaaping, rumbling like sound moving across the landscape somewhere not that far away.

Hearing things that don’t make sense, that’s how the mind of a once admired genius is going out. Figures.

The idea that it might be thunder hits me and that idea isn’t that nuts, but it’s too late anyway. Even if it did rain, I have no way of collecting it in this condition and I still have a raging infection taking hold of me at an alarmingly fast rate, and that’s no doubt because it’s being fueled by extreme dehydration.

In my confused state, it does eventually occur to me that thunder doesn’t sound like this. It stops, then there’s intermittent random intervals between the growls.

This isn’t stopping and it’s getting closer, but I still don’t understand what it is.

Sudden thoughts of getting eaten by a monstrous creature from my childhood nightmares terrorize my mind even though that’s so far out there and doesn’t make any damn sense.

The only thing that gets me to open my eyes at this point is my crazed level of dread over what I perceive to be a very frightening sound. I am sure that a terrifying beast is bounding across the dirt and is about to dig its jagged teeth into me, ripping my body to shreds any second.

Squinting, I don’t understand what I’m seeing even though I am seeing it.

A cloud of dust is blooming out from what looks like a very fast-moving metallic object. My fingernails dig into the hard clay as I try to push up so I can look at it as it shoots past, but I can’t raise my head enough and I lose sight of it.

Holy Shit!

It’s not a huge, green scaly monster!

Panic rips through me when I finally realize that someone or something just drove past me.

Help.

I try to scream but I can’t even do that anymore.

“Help!” My voice cracks. The word comes out so weak, the sound of it feels like it’s sucked up in a vacuum. The effort of my sobs and the thundering vibration sends pain buzzing through my head.

My brain feels like it’s going to rattle out of my skull. If I could cover my ears I would, but my arms are near useless at this point as they remain tangled around Dolores.

The piercing sound abruptly stops but the ringing in my ears doesn’t.

I swear I hear the garbled sounds of a voice behind me. Then all of a sudden, I see legs! I can’t focus my vision enough to see anything other than what has to be a person's shoes.

It’s a real fucking person!

This time when I try to speak, my plea for help comes out as an unintelligible and pathetically pained moan.

“Shit, shit, shit,” the voice curses repeatedly as their figure looms over me.

I feel the strange sense of something touching my neck, pulling down my scarf as what must be cool fingers press just under my jaw, up against my windpipe. Then I hear more cursing and the same fingers traveling along my exposed leg all the way down to my bare foot.

Again, I moan, and I moan even more when Dolores suddenly gets removed from my limp arms.

“No,” I breathe in protest to the blurry face in front of mine.

The sun is setting, I can tell that much. The pink rays from it are reflecting off this person’s reflective goggles.

Even though they are very cautious about it, when they lift just my head up off the ground, it leaves me feeling like I am a piece of petrified gum being pried off the bottom of a table at a greasy dinner.

God…I miss Griddys. I would die for a donut and a coffee.

Not happening, and you ARE dying, you crazy dipshit!

I whimper as my body protests the movement and my head sickly swims as it lays in what I assume is this person's lap.

A distinctly female sounding voice coming from above tenderly hushes my cries. “Hang in there. I am going to help you.”

Her hand brushes across my grimy forehead, sliding back the wrap of my scarf from my head. Then, though it’s impossible, the person’s hand stops in place over my throbbing brain, and both my skin and her hand seem to get remarkably colder. It feels heavenly and I don’t care at all when the icy fingers gently slip over my eyes too.

A divine liquid begins to tickle my split and bloodied lips, making me instantaneously respond by opening them further to accept the glacially cold water being offered.

“There, that’s it,” she encourages, to which I sputter and cough violently on the first swallow. The water stops so I can catch my breath, then I feel the bottle press against my mouth again. “Try to go slow.”

It doesn’t matter that I can see nothing and I’m totally at their mercy. I’d do anything this angel said.

The hand shielding my eyes and making my aching head feel so much better, moves away, only to be replaced a moment later, cooler again. It feels like actual ice, not the palm of someone’s hand.

I can’t help but marvel over the glorious feel of it. It reminds me of when I was just a little boy and I had the flu so bad that Grace had to stay with me all night, repeatedly doing anything and everything she could to ease my pain, including placing dozens of cold clothes against my burning brow.

The water stops when I start coughing again, and the icy feeling moves to my neck again, trying to unfurrow the tight wrapping even more.

“There, that’s better.” It feels like chilly kisses are covering my skin as she touches me. My body shivers. “You are really burning up. You are lucky I had a flat tire moment where I did, because that's the only reason I heard you trying to signal for help. If I'd found you sooner..." She pauses to wipe my face with something. I have no idea what with, but it feels so much better after some of the filth is removed. "I have been looking for you all day. But there’s nothing out here. That’s why I didn’t come out this far until now. When I heard that last shot, I knew you were due west of me, so I knew you had to be somewhere near the crater, which also explains why I was able to hear the shots from that far away. There’s nothing out here to absorb the sound.”

It seems like she's trying to apologize. At first, I don’t know what she’s talking about with the signal thing, but after a minute or so of slowly drinking this stranger’s extremely valuable water, I remember.

Those first shots she’s talking about weren’t a signal for help, at least not in the way she thinks.

The hand on my head moves away and I hear her rummaging through my things. Thanks to having some liberation from the oppressive heat, I am able to find the strength to open my eyes so I can find Dolores. I have to know if she’s okay.

I quickly see that she is, but she’s been discarded in the pile of my other things. I want to reach out to her, but I’m not sure if I can. She tells me it’s okay and to keep drinking, so I do as she says.

I see the woman’s hand snatching up the bottle of antibiotics that I had tried to use. She holds it up above me so she can read it.

“They didn’t work,” I whisper as water runs down my chin.

She seems startled by me talking. “Clearly not,” she mutters before going back to propping my head more so I can drink easier.  She tosses the pills aside and presses her cold hand to my head again. “By the looks of things, you are going to need something that does work as soon as possible, and I don’t have anything with me, or a way to get you back with me to where I do unless you can get up and hold on to me as we ride.”

She says it all so fast, and with the way my brain is working, I don’t get that I’m supposed to respond. All I can think about is how great this feels and how awesome it would have been to have had a working vehicle of any kind over the last two weeks. My mechanical abilities are far from anything even remotely helpful and though at times I have had vehicles started and used them, keeping them working is another story and getting them around in this disaster is a whole different challenge that makes walking much more logical.

But then again, this magical woman did it, so maybe I should have tried harder.

“Well, do you think you can? Hold on to me, I mean?” she asks, interrupting my ridiculously scattered thoughts.

She pulls back the water and after swallowing my thick saliva a few times, and forcing my brain to work somewhat more rationally, I reply very quietly. “I can’t get up.”

The woman sighs but it doesn’t sound like she's mad about my predicament and what she says next proves that she's not.

“That’s okay. I can go back and get medicine. I will come back for you.”

“No,” I moan like a big baby.

“It’s okay, I promise I’ll come back. Driving around out here is not easy on everyday tires but I have an off-road jeep that can make the journey if I am very careful. It’s going to take maybe two hours or more depending on a few factors, but I don’t know how else to do it. If I try to pull you in this wagon, for one you won't fit, and two, I am not sure you’ll make it. It’s too far and it’s going to take too long,” she explains, already shifting my head off her lap.

I have no ability to stop her from leaving. I can only impotently let her position my head on the jacket she just took off and rolled up into a makeshift pillow for me.

As I lay on my side watching her scrambling around, I can see her some better. As I already gathered, my rescuer is a female. Since she took off her protective outer layer, sacrificing it to me, I can see that she’s wearing a rainbow colored, tie-dyed sleeveless top that’s cropped at the bottom. It reminds me of something Klaus would try to get away with wearing under his uniform jacket whenever dad wasn’t around. In my moment of delusion, I find that old memory of him, defiantly strutting around the academy until he got caught and severely punished, very funny for some reason.

The muscles in my face try to pull my mouth in a look to reflect that sentimental yet sad thought but I am not sure I am actually smiling.

Her pants look almost identical to mine in their utilitarian, multi pocket, militaristic style, but hers are forest green, not grunge covered gray. Her arms and her midriff are tanned unlike mine. I almost always stay covered out of necessity. I am like a ghost.

She looks healthy. Contrasting my dreadful condition, she isn’t skin and bones, but she is very thin and couldn’t be more than a hundred pounds, standing at about five-three in her laced-up riding boots. Even from my spot laying on the ground looking up, I can tell she’s petite.

When she pulls my cart over, I can see her muscles straining. She places it behind me where the sun’s setting rays are burning my back. I feel the instant relief from the small shade it provides.

After doing that, she comes around in front of me, looking for a few more things as her lengthy braid swings across her back. Her hair looks reddish or maybe it’s just the light from the setting sun. I can’t tell.

This time when she comes to me, I can see her face because her goggles are pushed up and her own scarf is pulled down, revealing rosy cheek bones and vibrant blue eyes. She is all color and glowing life compared to the muted harsh tones of this barren landscape, but it’s the kind looking and startlingly familiar smile that makes me suddenly stop breathing. It looks so much like the one that’s been haunting me since I saw it over five years ago.

This smile is a shade different. It’s slightly more mature, along with the face wearing it, but…

Holy Hell.

Phoebe?

Quickly running the math in my mind, I conclude that she’d be thirty-three years old now, not twenty-one like I am, and that is because for her, it would have been twelve years before the world abruptly ended and then five years since. For me, my world crashed and burned just one day after I met her. 

This couldn’t be her. That’s crazy.

My heart feels like it could stop even though it’s dangerously racing as my body aggressively refuses to give up in its fight to stay in the world of the living-the world that I just found out I am not the only living member of.

The woman gets down next to me again, her hand coming up to my face to turn my chin to her bottle the way she did before. Her impossibly icy hand presses against my chapped cheek and I lean into it.

“Come on. Let’s get the rest of this in you. I will leave you with more water and if you feel better from drinking that one, maybe you could eat something?” She waves her hand at my last three cans of food that I only now see that she placed within reach. “Don’t worry, I have more.” I can tell that she’s concerned about my hollow looking appearance as her eyes slowly move over my face. She purses her pink lips unhappily. “I won’t take long. Now that I finally found someone, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let them die,” she declares with a breathy chuckle. "The real problem seems to be that you are about as dried out as someone can get before becoming one with the dirt. I don’t think this infection is that bad yet, but I’m sure it feels that way with everything else you have going on. I have strong meds and I know they will work. You are going to make it, I promise.”

Even if I wasn't drinking and I could reply, I wouldn’t know what to say. A thank you would be a start but there’s so much more than that running through my mixed-up head.

Of all the people that could finally find me, it’s her. I know it is. It’s her voice too. I recognize it now. It’s impossible, just like her velvety cold touch in this heat, but it’s her.

After assuring me that I’m going to live, she patiently stays with me utill I finish all her water. And just like she said, she brings back another and it’s equally cold. I can even see the condensation on the outside of the metal canteen.

Crouching down, she reaches for my left wrist, removing my clenched fingers from the ground so she can make me take the bottle from her. My filthy shirt sleeve pulls up from the motion.

“Do you-" Her words abruptly cut off as her eyes land on my tattoo. “No way…” Her lips part and her brows furrow as she stares at the black umbrella branding that I was adorned with as a child. “You can’t be…” She leans in closer, her eyes wide as they look into mine.

All I can do is lay there and stare back, feeling some better but still very much like death and feel equally as floored as she is that this is happening. After a minute of us looking at each other, in utter shock and disbelief, I finally speak up, confirming what I'm sure she's figuring out.

“I am sorry, Fee,” I breathe.  

The line between her brow grows deeper.

“Five?”

“Yeah.”

She shakes her head back and forth as she unscrews the cap and pushes the next bottle closer to my mouth.

“Thank you,” I feebly offer, because I can’t think of anything else to say and I feel like I might throw up the precious water I just guzzled, so I focus on keeping that down and just breathing instead.

My eyes followed her hand as she reaches out and brushes back some of my long hair that’s stuck to various areas of my gritty face. Her amazing fever reducing fingers run along my jawline as she inspects me. I clench the bottle tighter to my chest as I force a few deep breaths in place of my extremely shallow ones.

I know what she is seeing and I’m sure it doesn’t look good. The look of malnourishment mixing with the scruffy, dark, almost black hair growing on my weather-beaten skin, are probably making it very hard to tell that I am the stuck-up jerk that she had so badly wanted to meet when she was just young girl who wanted so desperately to believe that someone like me was actually going to care about someone like her.

“How is this possible?” she asks, her voice coming out in beautifully hushed sounding wonder. “I mean, how did you end up here? They said you disappeared. It was the day right after that night. You look so…”

She doesn’t finish her thought, so I can only guess what she was going to say. Perhaps it's that I look terrible or maybe even that I look weirdly childish. Both would be right because I am basically a heap of useless garbage, and in spite of the way I look, I am a real grown-up like she is, but I am sure I look much younger still because of all the intermittent rounds of starvation I've been through, this moment being one of them.

Also, am not as old at her even though at one time, we were the same age.

I physically changed in the last five years, but definitely not for the better.

I shut my eyes for a second or two before reopening to the slightest traces of tears trying to form anyway. Rather than looking angry that the last man on Earth is probably the last person she’d want it to be, she looks so incredibly troubled.

“Have you been here the entire time?”

I can feel my lips trembling, but I can’t help it. I feel so awful, and that, and the memories of all that has happened since I last saw her, are merging with my current state of mind and it isn’t putting me in a very good place to act better.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to talk.” She leans in, anxiously adjusting her jacket under my head. Then she tries to move my legs in a more comfortable way for me. Everything hurts and I know she can tell because she moves a blanket from my pack, placing it between my knees so my bones don’t rub together so badly.

More tears threaten to spill over that simple, kind act, but what Phoebe does next for me is nothing but extraordinary.

Folding her hands together as if she’s trying to crush something between her cupped palms, she shuts her eyes tightly. Her whole body seems to tremble from the effort of what she's doing. A moment later, she opens her hands, and at the same time, she reveals what looks like small ice chunks. Reaching up and taking her yellow bandana from around her neck, she dumps the sparkling crystals in the fabric and then props the cold pack against my forehead.

Totally thrown by this, I look over at Dolores.

"It’s her, the one you told me about and she’s special, like you. You’re going to make it, Five!’

Even though there’s tears in Dolores’s eyes, she sounds so happy.

“Can you make it till I get back?” Phoebe’s worried eyes run over me again and it reminds me of exactly how Dolores looks at me when she's distressed over something dumb that I'm doing or have already done despite her warnings.

 Jeezus. I am such a dickhead.

“Yes,” I croak.

She nods, then pushes herself up.

“It’s going to be dark soon, but don’t worry, I am coming back no matter what, so don’t die on me or I am going to be super pissed, Hargreeves.” The corner of her mouth quirks up just a bit.  “And I don’t mean pissed like I was the last time I saw your stupidly handsome face.”

Even though she’s rightly concerned about leaving, she is trying to ease my worries by teasing me and it makes my chest hurt even more. The foreign sound of her unrestrained laughter is so nice to hear. Like years ago, when I first heard it, I love how it sounds and makes me feel.

It’s nuts considering how close I am to death, but my chest is moving up and down as air swiftly moves in and out of my lungs and I could almost laugh over that threatening, and insulting, and sort of flattering comment she just gave me.

She had once told me she thought I was so smart and handsome, and hearing her praise made my head even bigger than it already was. I was so pathetically starved for attention; she was right about that and so many other things she said about me. But we both know she was wrong in both those two assessments. 

Something in my expression must amuse her even more because she smiles at me in that full way that I remember her doing that one fateful night.

I still don’t understand it.

She begins to move behind me where I presume her motorbike is, but all of a sudden, she stops. Swiftly bending down, she takes Dolores by the crook of her arm, hoisting her up.

Placing Dolores down next to me, Fee smiles again, but this time it’s at her, not me.

“Please make sure that he drinks that and doesn’t kick the bucket before I get back.”

Fee is talking as if Dolores can understand her, which of course she can, but it’s still throwing me to see her talking to her the same way I do.

Even weirder, Dolores replies that she will, and I'm so confused, I am only halfway certain Fee didn't hear it. Either way, seeming satisfied with how she’s leaving me, my savior moves to go, swiftly heading out of my sight as I drowsily close my eyes.

“I don’t deserve this, Phoebe.”

There were so many things I didn’t see that one night we were together. I was just a stupid teenaged boy that couldn't concern myself with looking at other people and their suffering. She tried to tell me who she was, and what she could do, but I ignored it. I used her and then I viciously put her down for daring to point out the truth that I was too stubborn and arrogant to see. I have had many lonely years to think about that night and I have never forgiven myself for it or for so many other horrible things I did.

Phoebe comes back. She bends down in front of me. Again, she pushes the bottle towards my mouth. “Yes, you do. You deserve what happened to you. Now don’t die.”

Her lips spread in the most curious looking smirk, then she gets up, and this time I know she’s leaving when I hear the loud roar of the two-stroke engine revving a few times before she tears off over the empty landscape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fee does come back, but I have no idea how long she was gone because after slowly finishing the next canteen, I drifted off in a fit of intense shivers.

Waking to the sight of hazy headlights beaming across the open field couldn’t be a better feeling even though my fever is so much worse again. I’m shaking even more, but it’s not from cold.

I peer out from under my blanket. The wind picked up at some point and it’s whipping across the landscape, covering me in suffocating dust. I can just make her out as she rushes my way from the driver side of the vehicle.

“You still in there, Five?” she anxiously questions the moment she’s on her knees in front of me.

Dolores gets moved back again. A cold hand covers my heated brow.

“Yes,” I cough out, proving that I’m alive.

“Come on,” she says as she starts uncovering me, “we need to get you away from this enormous shit hole you decided to take a dirt nap by.”

My body isn’t working, and I can hardly find the strength to cling to her as she lifts me, but she manages to roll me into a sitting position.

“Alrighty, on three. I am going to pick you up, just hang on. I will try to take as much of your weight as I can, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One, two, thrrr…eeEE!  Shhhh- shhh -IT!”

She gets me up alright, but right after that, my weight proves too much for her when my body limply tumbles into hers. I nearly knock us both back down to the ground. Stumbling backwards, Fee’s knees swiftly lock and the heels of her boots skit and skirt in the dirt before plowing down to prevent our fall.

“I was not expecting you to be so heavy,” she gasps.

She is clearly struggling, and I feel awful about that and just plain awful, especially when I start to dry heave on her. Thankfully nothing comes out or she'd have puke running down her back.

“I am sorry,” I wheeze, holding her as tight as I can. I try to put weight on my good foot and the other but the lightning like jolts of pain shooting up from my feet are making my legs about as useful as mush.

“It’s okay,” she grates out through what sounds like very clenched teeth.

My feet all but drag as she trudges the few yards to the jeep where she smartly left one of the back doors open. I tumble into the back seat, then Fee has to pull me the rest of the way in from the other side.

I feel so sick, more heaves have me hanging my head down to the floor as I start to weakly cry. “Dolores!” I sob just as Fee slams the door shut.

There is no way to explain how relieved I feel when the door opens again and Phoebe has her. The backseat area is cramped but Fee throws the passenger seat forward and places Dolores on the floor in the back behind it so she's easily within my reach.  

If Fee sees me crying, she doesn’t let on. As soon as she saves Dolores, she's off again and all I can do is lay here. My head feels like it’s spinning as I listen to the back hatch open and things banging around. I realize that she must be loading my things, and even maybe my treasured cart, but I can’t help her.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before she’s done and back with me. Opening the back door, opposite from where my head is, Phoebe gets back in. The dome light is dim when she flicks it on, but I can see that her bright clothing is now covered in the same silt that I am bathed in. Not stopping, she reaches in front and grabs a bag. Taking things out, she immediately starts cleaning her hands with sanitizing wipes and what smells like rubbing alcohol.

“I know you feel horrible, and this ride isn’t going to help that, but I am going to try to make it as tolerable as I can.”

I silently lay there, watching as she discards her soiled materials on the floor at her feet, and then starts in, working the button on my cuff so she can get my sleeve up on my left arm.

“It's been a long time, but I have done this many times back when my mom was sick, so don’t be scared, I sort of know what I am doing.” She laughs but it sounds nervous despite her assurances and shot at humor over what has to be a very sad and tragic memory.

The chill of the alcohol as she cleans my skin sends a new wave of shudders through my burning body. I shut my eyes as I feel the syringe prick me, then I hear the ripping of tape before she seals the needle down on my arm so it can’t slip out.

“Okay. That part was easier than I thought. Your veins are very easy to see.”

She breathes a sigh of relief as she scrambles around. Peering up at her again, I see her pulling out a clear bag of fluid and more medicines and supplies all in sterile wrappings.

“I found all this stuff at a clinic that was miraculously still mostly standing. The drugs should be good,” she explains as she hangs the bag on the clothing hook above my head and extends the clear plastic tubing down, attaching it to one of the two ports sticking out of my arm. “We are going to pump you full of nutrients and I will inject the Ceftriaxone all one go. It’s great for treating infections that other antibiotics might not be able to fight, so I'm sure it will do the trick.”

With a determined look in her eyes, she lays her fingers against my arm to steady them so she can slowly inject the drug into the other port that isn’t attached to the bag over my head.

“There, two things out of the way.” Fee appears apologetic for leaning on me as she adjusts herself a little, moving her weight off my pelvis, but I hadn’t even noticed her backside was pressed up on me. “I need to watch you for a little while, just to make sure you aren’t having any bad reactions to the meds. Then, if this part goes well, I have something I can give you to help you get through the trip back to where I have safe shelter,” she explained.

Her hand falls on my upper thigh, rubbing softly and I don’t think she realizes that she’s doing it until my eyes move from hers to her hand. She stops, and starts to take it away, but I sluggishly move my arm with the IV in it over enough to place my trembling hand on top of hers to stop her retreat.

“Thank you for saving me.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome.” The wind outside blows hard enough that the jeep gets rocked from one of the harder gusts. She scrunches her mouth in a funny way. “This weather sucks, huh?” 

“Ah-huh.”

Fee lets out a pretty little laugh over my lame answer.

“Yeah,” she says, still giggling, “it usually does out here and pretty much everywhere else I've been, but playing with the extremes of hot and cold are my areas of specialty, so I can tolerate most of this crap climate we have found ourselves in. But, when these nasty winds come with all the sand, I can’t do shit to make it better.”

I want to laugh over that, but I can’t. Instead, I gulp down a sob and look at Dolores again.

“I am sorry for what I did to you.” My words come out broken by the incredible emotion behind them.

She says nothing, so I hesitantly look back at her. Her smile falters for a moment before the quick easy kindness returns to brighten her stunning features.

“I know, Five. It’s okay," she quietly replies as she gently squeezes my leg.

Confused and on the verge of losing it again, I shut my eyes to block the tears.

I feel her moving her hand away again and I reactively increase my hold on it, and she stops again.

“Hey...it's okay," she quickly assures. "That was a long time ago. I may have been very naïve, but even back then I understood enough to realize that you were acting like that and saying that stuff because you were very messed up. We both were. I was young and so romantically inexperienced.”

She chuckles at herself over that, then bends down and starts picking up the trash as she further took the blame from me.

“I was crushing on you big time and I thought maybe I could make you like me too, and you'd happily want to run away with me if I could show that we were the same. That was crazy and I didn’t tell you everything, and I didn't act right either. I was wrong for not being totally honest about my intentions, and you called me out on it, and you were right to be mad, because I was up to something very misguided, but even so, you were an impressively douchey top shelf dick weed.”

Her mouth pulls to the side in a grin that looks exactly the way I remembered it when she was flirting with me, only now, it's even more beautiful.

“True,” I agree, "But I still want you to know how sorry I am for everything."

The hand she has resting on my thigh pulls away and I have to fight the urge not to reach for it again.

“Five, I forgave you a long time ago, but I accept your apology if you accept mine.”

There’s no hiding my tears from her now, so I don’t even try.

Another strong wind blows the side of the jeep making her look out anxiously into the shadows behind the dark glass. “I need to get us out of here before the tires get buried in this shitstorm. As you found out, when you are out this far, things can get very bad, very fast. Why were you here of all places, what happened to you?”

I don’t say anything, so she looks away again and finishes cleaning up, then she starts trying to adjust my legs for me, even reaching in back to grab a clean looking pillow for my head and a blanket to tuck between my legs again. “Never mind. You don’t have to talk. I think it’s safe to say you’re okay with the meds at this point, so just rest. I’ll get us out of here.”

Fee leans over and starts to brush my hair back out of my face again by tucking it behind my ear. A breathy sound of contentment escapes from my parted lips.

Seeing as I can't even begin to hide how nice this feels to me, she babied me even more, running her cold fingers over my temples over and over and the light pressure feels like it's helping push all the pain away.

My throat clenches and my eyes burn as I start to speak. “I thought there might be somewhere better. That’s why I did this.”

Phoebe’s hand stops and she pulls it back even though I wish she wouldn't. “What happened?” she asks.

Again, I feel like she’s asking me about the ‘big what happened,’ not just about why I wandered into a desert of nothingness to die. It’s easier to look at Dolores again, so I roll my head to the side, burying my dirty face in the clean smelling pillow.

“I made a big mistake. Instead of just leaving my life behind like you said I should do if I wasn't happy with it, I ran from it, only I didn’t think it through. When I took off the day after we met, I didn’t mean to jump so far, or to this.”

“You have been here since then, all alone?”

“Yes."

The sound of the sandstorm fills the void as she appears to think about that.

"I couldn’t get back. I tried and tried. I still try. This whole time, I thought I was the only one left. I did this to myself, and I hurt so many people. I know I deserve this, but it’s been so hard,” I whisper as I bite down and swallow the cannon ball sized lump in my throat.

Phoebe shuffles the things in her hands, and I see that she has another vile and syringe at the ready.

“No, you don’t deserve this. No one does. And I didn’t find anyone either, not until you. I never wanted anything bad to happen to you and I am so sorry that it did.”

She sticks the needle in the bottle, pulling the plunger back to fill it. She spurts out some of the liquid to clear the needle before she sticks it in my arm.

“The only reason I survived is because I didn’t burn or get buried when the shock waves hit," she added. "And then the only reason I have persisted after the world fell into a seemingly endless atomic winter for the first two years is because I can regulate my temperature and even the temperatures of other things. I don’t know how you made it this long in these conditions.”

She looks so sad again and I don’t know what to say.

“You can make ice,” I breathe as I verbalize just one of the zillion things running through my head.

She smiles and then looks down at her hands. “I can manipulate water to either very hot or very cold extremes. I can also somewhat control or create fire. Turns out those two things come in very handy in the apocalypse, especially when that includes being able to pull water molecules from the atmosphere, even when it seems there are none, as you saw with the ice thing.”

It’s as I am thinking about that, linking it back to the thousands and thousands of charred bodies I have seen, and the cold feel of her hands, and her dozens of magical candles around us that one night, amazing yet horrible night that I suddenly realize I don’t feel any pain.

“Wha-dd-you-" I start to groggily ask.

“Just sleep, Five. We can talk all you want when you’re better.”

Thinking of the past, my mind and body slip away into a numb bliss, but I know I am not alone anymore.

Link to chapters 5, 6, and 7 to complete the story and also find and extended scene link.

Thanks for reading. If you are enjoying it, let me know. Three more chapters to go and I will be posting them all together very soon.😘

Master Post List to all my Five Centric stories and art

Link to my other Tumblr posts

Link to this and my other works on A03

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Amber!!!! 😘😘😘

Really??? Wtf was Steve thinking??? I was catching up with the The pack series and I'm so so so made at Steve. I love him. I'm a whore for him but his decision of leaving his little one was.... idk what to say, disturbing??!! I felt betrayed, can't think what little one must have gone through😑 Steve, you dumb ass!!! I want to kick him.

Ya know, if I put myself in little one's place, I won't forgive him easy. I would just make him regret and grovel. I would rise above his betrayal and just live for myself 😭😭 easier said than done. I really want our sweet little one to kick his ass in combat while in wakanda, show him her moves, make him rock hard for her and then don't let him touch her. Just show him that she's doing alright without him, I'm okay if she cries in the pillow at night. I would do the same. He fucking broke her. As much as l love them together, I would want our little one to be independent confident woman who can beat anyone's and everyone's ass including her Alpha. My heart hurts for her more than Steve. I understand where Steve is coming from, but can't he just talk things out, who is he to take the decision for them. He was scared, I get that but still.

I need a panther rebound for our reader😂😂 I know its not fair, okay not a rebound, at least some flirting in front of Steve, make him jealous, growl in frustration, provoke his wolf to rip everything apart.

I can't fucking wait to see what happens. Maybe she gets drunk in wakanda's bar, shout some profanities at Steve, tell him that she would never forgive him.

Ugghhhhh... I'm so hurt with Steve's decision, felt like my own breakup...

Baby, no please don't give up on Steve entirely. But yes be mad at him. Rage at him, shake him, smack him, scream at him, definitely be mad. But don't give up on him. Not yet anyway.

You have to know this so messed Steve up, he saw himself almost kill his mate, that one person who he would do literally anything for, saw his whole future with, and would have laid down his life and soul for her. And he had to see himself almost squeeze the life out of Little One by someone else's choosing. He couldn't even say no or fight against it. For an Alpha especially, that is something they have never experienced before. The Alphas are natural protectors of those they consider theirs and to be made to hurt them is like shattering them, a torture that broke him.

It fucked him up, making him think that she was better off far away from him. That he wasn't good enough for her, that he could lose control again and finish what Brock started. His fear and guilt is outweighing his common sense.

Yes, I too want to see our Little One grow into the wolf we know she is. She has been controlled and forced for her whole life, now is her time to figure out who she is. More than Steve's mate or a female others tried to break and submit to make her theirs.

Now is Little One's time to be a huntress against those that are determined to underestimate her.

Should she just forgive Steve? No, I don't think so. He has to take into account what his actions did to her and accept that if and when they try again, that is when they are both ready for it. Who knows, she might not want him back after this, unwilling to put herself in that vulnerable position again. They both have to be ready for the other.

Now the question is can Steve join her in this hunt and follow her wherever it takes her or will he become one of those she tears down because he can't get past what happened?

[deannagrey]

Scene where Sam tells the boys he’s leaving

Note: I wrote this scene as a look at how the guys would have differing reactions to Sam’s decision to leave. It didn’t make the cut because I felt like the book was getting too lengthy and their reactions could be further explored in other books. 

I pulled up to our house. Everything looked clearer after talking to Aderyn and this clarity was warm. Bittersweet. I passed by Finn's van on the way to the front door, taking a quick peek at the wayward sweatshirts, forgotten earbuds, and old hockey equipment in the back seat. All of us often left things in the van, knowing that we'd come back eventually. It was our version of a scrapbook. I'd have to take my things out before leaving. I definitely wasn't looking forward to doing that. But it was going to happen. It needed to happen because I needed to grow. I needed a chance to figure out who I was when I took chances and didn't know what the outcome was going to be. I needed to completely shed old Sam for the new version. The hopefully stronger version. 

The guys were in the living room, sitting around the coffee table with the game Clue laid out in front of them. The sound of my shoes on the hardwood was enough to capture their attention 

"How did it go?" Henrik asked. They all looked at me, eyes wide with curiosity, ready to lend me a shoulder if needed. 

I nodded, smiling at the thought of Aderyn. "G-good. Better than good. Amazing." 

Lincoln raised his arms and smiled wide with pure happiness for me. As he cheered, Henrik and even Finn laughed at his excessive show of support. 

"I thought you were going to have bad news," Lincoln noted, eyes dancing with satisfaction. "You're still stammering a bit. But, thank God, I'm wrong." 

I tried not to let my smile fade. All in all, this was good news. 

"Right…well, there's something else." I cleared my throat. "So, next year, I'm not going to be needing my room."

Finn's brow knitted but he kept his questions to himself. His gaze ducked down as he focused on his hands. He could sense this was going somewhere he wasn't necessarily going to like. 

Henrik gave me a small nod. He knew what I was going to say. And the firm line his mouth made clued me into how he wouldn't give protest. His rapid blinking told me he wanted to but whatever argument he cooked up would stay in the back of his mind out of respect for my decision. 

On the other hand, Lincoln had no clue where I was going. We were on one side of the field and he was on the other. 

"You don't want to live here anymore?" Lincoln asked. "It's a fixer-upper sure, but we have our fixer." 

Finn grunted when Lincoln gestured in his direction. 

"No, it's not that–" I tried. 

"Fine, we can look for other options." He sighed like he'd given plenty of thought to the matter. "But, finding a place better and this close to campus is going to be tough – if not impossible. And moving costs are wild. We were lucky this place came furnished. I do have some savings and that couch we saw at Ikea is within budget if everyone pitches in two hundred." 

"Link–" I tried with a smile. His interruptions were annoying but hell, I was going to miss them. Going to miss everything about this guy who was wholeheartedly ready and committed to doing anything and everything in life together. 

"Naomi and Finn should get the master this time because they need the space," Lincoln said. "No offense but Aderyn's not exactly moving in this early…or is she?"

"Lincoln," Henrik's tone was harder than mine. "Shut up. Just for a second. He's not done and you're not making this any easier to swallow." 

Lincoln's forehead wrinkled but he followed the order. 

"I'm not going to need my room because I'm not coming back to Mendell next year," I said. 

"That's a shitty thing to joke about," Lincoln teased. When I didn't refute my statement his smile faded. 

"Are you…" Lincoln looked at the other guys for support. "Wait, seriously? This is happening again? First Finn's moderating for a streaming star. Naomi's said star. And now, Sam's leaving. Another thing I didn't know about?"

"What do you mean you didn't know?" Henrik asked. "You drove him to Aderyn. You had to deduce something might change, Sherlock."

"To stop her. I deduced that he was going to stop her, Waston," Lincoln insisted. "I drove him because I thought the plan was to stop her. To convince her to stay or convince her to have a long-distance relationship. Not leave…us." 

"Lincoln," I tried to soften my tone because I could see the genuine hurt in his eyes. "I'm only going a few hours away." 

"That's a lot, Sam. That's a lot and you know it and this is bullshit," Lincoln argued. There wasn't fire in his voice. He wasn't necessarily upset with me. He was sad and ready to mourn what would be the first time we all were in different places since becoming friends. 

"I think this is going to be good for me," I told him. "Healthy for me to try something new. To be in a place where I don't know everyone and they don't know me." 

To be with Aderyn, someone who didn't necessarily need me but chose me. Wanted me. Someone I could build something with that stood far longer than a college career. 

"So, spend a few months at a boot camp if you don't want people to know you. If you want a new challenge," Lincoln suggested. "Not transfer to a different program." 

"Bootcamp isn't the same as starting a life somewhere new," I told him. 

"It was going to happen eventually, Link. We all have to split up eventually to figure out our own path, so why not start now," Henrik said in a gentle tone. It sounded like he was trying to be empathetic to Lincoln's stance. He was going to have to learn how to be more understanding of Lincoln's passionate bursts of emotion. Especially since he'd be in charge next year. 

Lincoln huffed, unconvinced and desperate to have someone on his side. "Finn, are you going to say anything? Give us a clue to what you think about this?" 

Finn remained quiet for a few more seconds, taking his time to gather his thoughts. "Sam sounds happy. And he's right, it could be healthy for him to move on. Move forward somewhere else. Move forward with someone he can see a future with. If he's happy, I'm happy. That's all I'm thinking…I'm happy. Sad to lose him but glad he's doing what he wants."

I smiled. His answer was far more heartfelt than I would have expected. 

Lincoln groaned, slouching. "I'm happy too, of course, I'm happy."

"You don't sound very happy to me," Henrik mumbled. 

"I'm ecstatic," Lincoln insisted, voice flat. "All I would like is for Sam to consider that he has more options. We invented cars for a reason. Number one on that list is to drive a few states over to see your girl."

"Eh," I interjected. "I don't know about number one."

"Yeah, that feels more like a number five thing," Henrik agreed. 

"Five or five thousand," Lincoln said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever the number, it's on the list. My point is, I thought maybe your friends might be higher."

"I don't think his decision says anything about how he feels about us," Finn noted. 

"Agreed," Henrik said. 

"Maybe not, but it feels like it." Lincoln shook his head still in disbelief. 

I chewed on my lip, trying not to laugh at his stubborn insistence. "I love you, too, Link. I love all of you guys." 

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Save your attempts at ending toxic masculinity for someone who cares." 

"You care." I moved closer to shove his shoulder. "And I care. We all care and that's why this is going to be hard but not impossible." 

Lincoln huffed but at least untangled his crossed arms. 

"I know you guys got this," I said as I joined them on the floor. "You guys are going to kill next season. You have the talent and the drive. Now, with Stoll out of the way, you have the support. We laid down a foundation, I cleared the way and now, you guys are going to finish this for me."

"You're still playing, though, right?" Finn asked. 

I nodded. "Hell yeah. I'd never quit. Just refocusing. I'll play for Westbrooke."

"Good." Finn nodded. My answer seemed to make his shoulders relax. 

"So, we're just going to kick your ass," Lincoln concluded. "You know what…fine, I'll take that as payment for the heartbreak you've caused all of us. That should cover half damages."

I laughed. "That so?"

Lincoln nodded. "And that other half is you telling us everything we need to do to win this goddamn championship. We need one." 

Henrik nodded in agreement and scooted closer to the table. "With Stoll out of the way, we can actually play without fear of people being benched or suspended out of the blue. Except for you, we have all our seniors coming back. Plus, some killer rookies."

I took a deep breath, pushing away the sadness of not playing with them and replacing it with the excitement of planning for their final season. 

"Jack's going to be a big asset," I said. "His suspension is long but he'll be back on the ice before playoffs. Finn, Jack, and Hen are the best wing players in the league. You have strong first and second lines."

"We're losing the best center, though," Henrik noted. 

I smiled but nodded. "You are but that rookie from Bellamy High is Mendell or bust. He’s almost as impressive as me" 

"Right." Henrik nodded and rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. I could see him moving players around in his mind. Working out plays and matching up the guys who could best execute them.

"Link," I said, leaving Henrik to his thoughts for now. "You're going to commit one thousand percent next year. I mean it."

"I always commit," Lincoln pressed his hand on his chest like he was offended. 

I gave him a look. "Seriously."

"What?" he asked, squirming a bit in his seat. "I do." 

"Don't fuck around. Give it your all."

He sobered a bit and nodded. "I will."

"Swear it," I dared with a little nudge of my chin. "Swear it on Darcy's grave."

"Who's Darcy?" Finn asked in a low voice.

"Link's hamster who he trained to count," Henrik explained. "And be a semi-decent acrobat." 

"Trained to…" Finn shook his head. "You guys get weirder and weirder the more I learn about you." 

I laughed and then looked back at Lincoln. "Swear it." 

He scoffed. "What are we, twelve?" 

"Chicken," I taunted. 

"Oh, well damn. That's the breaking point. Can't be seen as a chicken," Lincoln said sarcastically. 

"You do seem a bit scared," Finn joined in. 

"My God, fine." Lincoln held up his hands. "I swear on my beloved Darcy's grave. I will be the best damn goalie you guys have ever seen. And I will be the reason we win the championship."

"That's a lot of promises." Henrik raised a brow. "You could just stick to trying." 

"No, I'm calling it. I'll be the reason," Lincoln promised with a determined nod. "Mark my words." 

"Marked," I teased. 

"Well, there we have it." Henrik nodded. "We're going to have a season people won't forget…Training starts tomorrow morning. I'll text the rest of the team."

Lincoln and Finn's eyes widened. 

"Excuse me?" Lincoln asked. "We're on break." 

"Which is why I expect you guys to be at the rink bright and early," Henrik said. "We're not training for the playoffs this year. But that doesn't mean we have to stop training altogether. We have big plans. And since we only have Sam for a limited amount of time, we have to make it count." 

I smiled at the thought. "Off-season practice sounds perfect. Fun."

"A chance for Sam to give some parting wisdom," Henrik said when he heard Finn and Lincoln's collective sighs. 

"True…unfortunately true," Lincoln agreed. "Well, can I at least be in charge of the music on the rides to the rink?"

"No," Finn said sternly. 

"Come on, it's a short drive. And I need surround sound to pump me up." 

"Didn't I buy you a pair of noise-canceling headphones," Henrik asked, mouth turned down as he wondered if he was recalling things right. 

Lincoln shrugged. "Yeah, but it's not the same, you know?" 

"Sucks to be you," Finn joked under his breath. 

"Doesn't it?" Lincoln let out a purposely dramatic sigh. "Losing a friend to Westbrooke. Having to prove I'm the best goalie in the league to my other friends. Nursing a lovesick heart. It's rough out here."

I chuckled. "Your melodrama will be one of the things I miss most." 

Lincoln jumped at the opportunity to be sappy. "So, if you were to make a list, theoretically–" 

"You and this theoretically," Henrik muttered. 

"Who would you miss most?" Lincoln leaned closer, ready for my answer. "Theoretically." 

"I love all my children equally," I teased without missing a beat. 

"Boo, tomato," Lincoln mimed throwing the fruit at me. 

I laughed. "Seriously. I'm gonna miss you all in different ways. But the intensity of it feels the same."

Lincoln stuck out his bottom lip and nodded. "I would fake barf but that actually meant a lot to hear you say." 

"It did," Henrik agreed. "Thanks. For everything. Leading us in high school and here. We know it took a lot out of you." 

Finn’s gaze met mine as he said, "Yeah, thank you, Sam. For being there. Listening. Having you there for me after the accident – giving me a break from the drama just to figure my shit out – it means a lot." 

My throat tightened so I simply nodded. 

"Glad to know I'm not the only one who has a heart. For a second I thought you guys were going to let him leave without telling him how you really felt," Lincoln teased them. "And yeah, you deserve all the thanks, Sam. We will give it to you in the form of a trophy. We will win in your honor."

"In Sam's honor," Henrik seconded with a smile. 

"For Sam." Finn nodded. "A Mendell championship, for Sam." 

"I appreciate that, I do." I nodded, still feeling a little misty but proud. "You guys better win with all these promises. Or else, your speeches are all cheese and no backbone." 

"I told you I got this," Lincoln promised and gripped my shoulder for a gentle squeeze. "Cheese and all. I'm going to bring it home."

"We're going to bring it home," Henrik corrected.

"You guys will be there, too, yes," Lincoln agreed. 

Henrik snorted and Finn chuckled. They would be fine without me. They were going to win without me. That thought didn't hurt as much as I assumed it would. We were growing up, ready to trust ourselves just as much as we trusted each other. It felt incredible. It felt freeing. It felt like this was how things were meant to be. 

[teacherintransition]

Crisis of Confidence

Life lesson day 1: things rarely go as planned…Transitions in life are by their very nature CHANGE.

When obstacles come, keep driving forward, alter your path, but for god’s sake don’t ever, ever, ever go back!

“The best laid plans are …,” …100% reliable? …are easy to put together? …will often go sideways? …unnecessary? Which are most accurate? If you chose, “unnecessary,” go to the back of the line and cover yourself in bubble wrap… cause you’re gonna get beat the hell up by life. Bring Tylenol. The other answers are all possibilities with “total reliability” being possibly 0.0001% likely. Truly, how often do grand designs go off without a hitch? Not often, but there has to be a goal. I absolutely love the line from George Harrison’s song, Any Road, “But if you don't know where you're going

Any road will take you there!”* George was the man. You pick a road, but for damn sure you can expect bumps, potholes, detours and even a fender bender. The ticket is not to give up and turn back.

We made the decision to retire, I set my personal goals and we set goals for us, we envisioned where it would end up; and very little of what we’d planned turned out the way we saw things happening. Death and loss due to Covid…. nuff said. I never planned to write a book, we never planned to have to cancel travel plans, we never planned for the selling of the hospital where Kim worked for thirty three years to a soul crushing entity, we never imagined living in Alexandria, Louisiana or Granbury, Texas… but here the hell we are. Not what we expected, but we are still headed in the same general direction. The lives of our sons took extremely unplanned trajectories that affected our path and delayed some of our plans. Detours and delays have been in abundance, but the overall outcome is still doable.

This series of articles has always pushed encouraging words and a positive outlook during a period of major life transitions. It ain’t always easy… disappointments abound; and despite the freedom of the pressures of time philosophy I push, one is acutely aware that there’s more behind you than ahead of you. The diabolical “what if’s “ begin to surface: what if I don’t get this or that done? What if the place we go isn’t what you expected? What if time runs out? Heavy thoughts to ponder; and if disappointments occur with some regularity, any number of less than positive outcomes can occur. It can just seem easier to go with the flow of less resistance. In other words…compromise. During this period of life that was to be filled with calm, peace and dreams can often start to resemble the stressful struggles of the work world that you tried to leave.

My oldest son is a Marine and their famous motto, “ADAPT, IMPROVISE, OVERCOME,” has more depth that it might appear. I’ve had to adapt what end goals might look like in the end, but still recognize the spirit of what I wished to attain. Creative, quick thinking or improvising is essential. The free spirit mentality I try to promote when writing lends itself to goal improvisation. All sorts of metaphors come to mind and references to “Roads less traveled,” when finding confidence in an altered path and an open mind can reveal attainment of dreams that might go unnoticed. We’ve always wanted to live in a city and through Kim’s travel nursing job …we did! We have also wanted to live in the Hill Country, and now we are …temporarily. These were dreams that had been buried and forgotten; but zig was the path instead of zag, and we received a major surprise. Overcome: plain and simple, don’t let unwanted circumstances rob you of what you are wanting to do. Putting things off is ok, but giving up on them isn’t.

Nothing looks like you thought it would, but that doesn’t make it a failed attempt. The key is to not let struggles turn into stresses …this is your time. You should see the process as your adventure not the burdening obligations that retirement/transition was to free you from in this path. To paraphrase George’s earlier referred to song lyric; “If you know where you’re going, there’s not just one road to take you there!”

*Harrison, George; “Any Road;” Brainwashed; Parlophone, Dark Horse Label; 2003

[ashe-delta-manic-mumblings]

Happy Birthday, Ashe

I tend to name my demons. Gives 'em personality, and when you can address them by name, and lets you specifically call them out when they try to bother you.

Not all demons are bad, of course. Some are just misunderstood, with good intentions. Some are straight up good to you.

I'd call the transgender part of myself a "demon". Her name is Ashe. It wasn't always Ashe, but it is now.

Ashe laid dormant for over 17 years. The first time I saw her was in 2017, in junior year of high school. She worried me, terrified me, mystified me. She was set on destroying my life from the inside and making me, no, her, into the person she wanted to be.

I agreed. This gender shit was stupid anyways (at least, that's what she told me).

For three years, she was in charge. She had a plan for life, one that required secrecy and staying vigilant. She promised me that as long as she was in the lead, she'd take both of us to a better place. Just make sure to not make too many friends, and have as little connections as possible. Get a job as soon as possible and run. Run and never look back.

Little did I know she was in cahoots with Susie (the demon of anxiety and depression, of course).

Three years later, she quit. She failed, and gave up.

I stopped hearing from her. My closest friends, those who helped me find her in the first place, knew she existed. I couldn't just pretend that she wasn't a part of me anymore. Yet to me, it was as if she never existed. I stopped hearing her whispers, her promises.

Even if that spark was gone, I couldn't give up. I wasn't allowed to, at this point. I had told my family about her at this point, so even if she was gone, I can't back out now. So I carried this façade of still having Ashe within me, because it was easier for everyone.

I think part of me wanted to believe she was still there. She rubbed off on me, after all (I mean, she was me).

I was always caught up on how hard Ashe's dream was to start. Find a doctor. No, one wasn't enough, you might need a couple. Get their signatures, go beg for meds. Don't forget the waiting list. So I gave up. I'd say I'd love to, but it was too difficult, so I shrugged it off. Future me's problem.

It's always future me's problem.

A year ago, I made a brash decision. Even if Ashe was all but a distant memory, I decided to take a long shot. Scheduled an appointment with Planned Parenthood to see how they could get me started in this path Ashe wanted to work so hard for. See if her dream was worth realizing.

April 27th, I entered the online meeting and signed some documents. The next day, I was holding the pills she tried so hard for her to get.

A long forgotten memory spoke out to me, holding the pill bottle I'd grow to become familiar with in the coming year. A voice I thought who had died, and was long since buried.

She cried out to me, laughing. "It was that easy?"

I couldn't help but laugh as well. All that work I was afraid of was that simple, it was such a cruel punchline. Her dream, no, our dream, was in my hands. All from an appointment I made on a whim.

It was refreshing to see her again, I wanted to cry. Holding that pill bottle was the happiest I've ever been in years.

I told her to wait just a bit longer. It wouldn't be long until she could have the helm again, but we should only do it when we're ready, the both of us. She agreed. She knew I wasn't long for this world after all. She's used to waiting. Another year or two is nothing to her.

A month into taking meds, she started pointing out the little things she was noticing. She seemed giddy. I was glad.

Three months in, Evelynn (the demon of lust, obviously) quit. That was pretty weird, but Ashe didn't seem to mind. It was a side effect of the meds, and shrugged it off. Bit of a shame, I liked Evelynn, but also I didn't need her or anything. Anything to see Ashe's dream realized.

5 months in I abandoned he/him pronouns. They didn't feel right anymore.

About seven months in, Ashe didn't like my name anymore. I was inclined to agree, as it felt weird to still be attached to it. I started researching names over and over to no avail, nothing ever stuck. Ashe suggested to just name myself after her. Worked for me. It would be her vessel soon, anyways.

Nine months now, and Susie started throwing fits. Couldn't figure out for the life of me why, but Ashe had a theory, that it was her. Can Ashe even do that? Turns out, yes, taking Estrogen can give you period like symptoms. Ashe was strangely excited about this. I guess she cherishes the little things. I loved that part about her.

Finally, yesterday, laying in bed, she spoke to me. Or rather, I spoke to her. I guess the lines between us were blurring at this point.

Her birthday was coming up. April 28th, the day I started taking the meds. I wanted to celebrate for her, how far our dream has come, even if it's little by little. We weren't nearly done yet, but to make it this far after the both of us have given up was an achievement in and of itself.

I called it Ashe's birthday, but that wasn't right. Ashe's birthday, well, my birthday, was on the 7th of July.

I looked down at my arms, Ashe's arms, my arms. Then the legs, Ashe's legs, my legs.

I got up and looked in the mirror, I needed to see something.

Ashe's face. My face.

That sly dog. I knew I said that she could take the wheel when the both of us were ready, but it snuck up on me. The old me had been gone for a long, long time now.

It wasn't some sudden outburst, or huge revelation, like I figured it would be. I didn't just decide to cast away my old self in a spectacle unique to me. It was a slow burn, over the course of a year, into a new person unrecognizable to who I was when I started.

I laughed, and maybe even cried. I was Ashe. It wasn't a dream. It was a reality. I wasn't "going to be transgender", going to do it in the future. It wasn't future me's problem.

I just was.

Ashe simply smiled. It wasn't the first one I've seen, and heaven knows it won't be the last. She was seeing her dream realized right in front of her eyes, and only now have I noticed it.

How cliché.

I know Ashe isn't done yet. We've only gotten started.

She, no, I seemed giddy at the prospect. This journey that we worked so hard for was just beginning.

I wonder if that demon from over 5 years ago is happy with the results of today. Probably not, to be honest. We were young, and dreamers. But now that I see it in real time, we can't help but be mystified, like I was in junior year when I first saw her. She helped me become this, to better fit her image, my image.

Thank you Ashe, and happy early birthday. Here's to the rest of our lives together.

[lucy90712]

Fabio Quartararo- official

Going to my first race is something I thought I would be more excited about than I am but really I'm just incredibly nervous about the whole thing. Fabio and I have been going out on dates for many months now but nothing is official between us as we have been taking things slow and making sure things will work out with our lifestyles before we commit. This is why I have never been to a race before so when Fabio invited me Germany to actually attend one in person I got a bit nervous. I have watched every race since my first date with Fabio but going to a race in person is completely different and I know that which is what is making me nervous. Being there in person means I will be spending more time with Fabio and getting to see him do what he loves which is the reason I'm excited to go but it also means there will be media and cameras around which is the part I'm nervous for.

The thought of all those cameras being around worries me because things between me and Fabio aren't official so I don't want people to see me there and start rumours that aren't true. For some reason my brain keeps telling me that if things get out and people don't react well to the possibility of me and Fabio being together that he will end things between us which I know is silly as there is no way on earth he would do that but I can't help but think about it. He has been trying to reassure me all week leading up to this race that everything will be fine and that if I need anything he or the team will be there. He has also promised me that nothing will change between us no matter what is said which did make me feel a little bit better but I still have those intrusive thoughts running around my head.

To get the full experience and properly see what Fabio does I decided to go and be there for Thursday as well which is the riders media day. In my mind although I am nervous about the whole media side of things I know that if I want to be with Fabio which I do that it will become part of my life so I may as well experience it all now and get used to it. Another thing that influenced my decision was the fact that on a Thursday Fabio always goes on a track walk and I thought it would be a good way for me to learn more about how the bike actually works as I don't particularly understand it all. Being there early also gives me a chance to get to know some of the team members and other people Fabio is close to because I haven't met any of them before as we have been keeping things between us mostly.

As I decided to be there for the whole weekend it meant that Fabio and I could fly out together and spend a bit of time together before the chaos of the weekend ensues. Flying together meant it was easier for us to spend the night together so that we could leave together early in the morning. We have spent the night together many times before whether its at my place or his we often sleep over at one another's places after going out or staying in for dates as it allows us to spend more time together before hanging to go back to our normal lives. No matter how often we do it I don't think I'll ever get used to waking up and feeling Fabio's arms around me as every time it bring butterflies to my stomach and makes my heart beat out of my chest. This morning is no different either because even though the alarm went off at a ridiculous time the second I came around from my slumber and felt Fabio's arms tightly wrapped around me the butterflies came flooding through my body. That only got worse when he too woke up and pulled me in closer before starting to mumble something in his sleepy voice which I think will be the death of me its just that cute.

We laid in bed together for a bit longer before the second alarm went off and we both decided it was best we got up. Luckily I had prepared my things last night so I had my outfit already picked out for me and only the things I really needed out in the bathroom which made packing so much easier unlike Fabio who hadn't even started packing which meant I had to help him in order for us to get to the airport on time. He sure does like to stress me out with his way of living sometimes and how he does everything last minute but somehow he still manages to do everything on time which never ceases to amaze me. With my help we were ready to go and in the car with a few minutes to spare which I was proud of as for a while things were looking pretty risky in terms of us making it to the airport on time. The car journey wasn't long but it went by even quicker as Fabio and I were just talking and singing along to music like it wasn't still the early hours of the morning which is something I love about being with Fabio as we always have fun.

~~~~~~~~~~

The plane ride went by pretty quickly and before I knew it we had arrived in Germany and were on our way to the track. I've never been to Germany before so the whole journey I just looked out of the window at the beautiful scenery to take it all in while I could. Soon enough we arrived at the track and the calmness I felt in the car disappeared straight away when I saw how many people were walking around and how many had cameras too. Before I could get too panicked I felt Fabio's hand slide into mine and hold it tightly which made me look over at him to see the smile he had on his face which is so infectious.

"Please don't be too worried I'll be right here for you and I promise they won't care as much as you think they will" he said to comfort me

"Thank you Fabio I appreciate it" I said

"Wow you must be really nervous I've never heard you speak so formally" he laughed

"You know me so well" I laughed back

With that he got out of the car and ran around to my side to open the door for me which was funny to watch as he almost fell over from trying to run so quickly. Once I was out the car he offered me his hand which I took and we began to walk towards the track entrance. We walked right next to each other to hide the fact that we were holding hands mostly but also because that way I couldn't get lost which I feel like I'm bound to do at some point but I would rather it not be the first time I go into the paddock. On our way in a few people stopped Fabio to say hello or to ask for pictures which is the only times he would let go of my hand but he would grab it again right after. I thought I would be more worried than I was but just seeing Fabio so happy and enjoying being at the track made me forget all about my worries as it was just nice to see him doing what he loved so much that I wasn't thinking about what others were thinking. Along the way other than being stopped for pictures Fabio also introduced me to some of the other riders that he is friends with who were all very sweet and welcoming which made me feel a lot more comfortable as I felt as though there was more people I could go to if Fabio was busy.

Eventually we made it to Fabio's motorhome where we dropped our stuff off and got to sit down for a few moments. I was prepared to stay in a hotel nearby but Fabio insisted that I stay with him instead so that I wouldn't have to navigate the paddock on my own and because he said he wanted to spend more time with me so that he could show me everything he does. We didn't have long together as Fabio had to start doing interviews but we did have enough time to plan our weekend and what we wanted to do each evening. This evening we decided to go on a track walk together as Fabio will do one during the day with his mechanics to look around the track and he said he wanted to take me round too to show me some things.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fabio left for his first round of interviews before lunch which went by super quickly and before I knew it he was back to bring me to the team hospitality for lunch with him where I got to talk to some of the team members and get to know them a little bit. All of them were really interesting people with cool stories of how they got into working in this field and they even told me bits about the bike so I could understand more of how it works which was super useful as Fabio isn't the best at explaining that sort of thing to me. None of them minded me asking stupid questions which was great as I definitely had a lot of those and getting the answers really helped me learn a bit more.

After lunch I was about to head back to the motorhome but Fabio stopped me before I could go up the steps and told me he wanted me to come to his afternoon interviews and the press conference with him. I agreed but regretted it as soon as we got to the large interview room as I sat down in a corner and immediately the room filled with journalists and other people from the media which was very overwhelming to say the least. To start with no one really paid any attention to me until a few people noticed I wasn't recording or writing anything down and was just sat there which is when more started to look over and began asking questions to Fabio about who I was. He told them all I was just a friend with such a straight face that I almost believed him and I won't lie it hurt a bit because even though technically we aren't official I feel like we are more than friends and I wish we could tell people that but I understand Fabio's reasonings. Luckily those interviews were over quickly and all that was left was the press conference which went off without a hitch as I could sit in the audience and go unnoticed so the questions were just about racing and the weekend ahead.

I actually enjoyed the press conference as it was basically just the riders having a laugh while doing their job. Although I enjoyed it I was glad when it was all over as it meant it was track walk time which I have been looking forward to all day. We left the press conference together and went to Fabio's garage which we walked straight through to get to the pit lane which gave us access to the track. Even though I know its going to be a long walk all the way around I'm just so excited to see the track that I don't care if its going to be exhausting plus I could probably use the exercise anyway. Right away Fabio was telling me all sorts of information about breaking zones and apexes which I tried my best to listen to and take in but I know I won't remember everything straight away. As we walked he was swinging our arms between us which started off at a normal level but the further we got round the track the more he started swinging our arms to the point that we definitely looked really ridiculous but it was fun and no one was around so I didn't care.

We walked around most of the track before the sun started to set which is when Fabio dragged me towards the gravel and made me sit down in it to watch the sunset. Sitting in the gravel was very uncomfortable as it was like a stone beach (we have these where I live and they are super uncomfortable) but the scenery was so beautiful that after a few seconds I forgot about it. Over time I got closer and closer to Fabio as it was cold and he is always warm which meant I ended up leaning my head on his shoulder and he put an arm around my waist. In that moment all I was focused on was Fabio's arm around me and how his fingers were tightly gripping my side making me feel safe. It was like there was no one else there even though there was other people walking or cycling the track they all sort faded into the scenery and all that mattered was Fabio.

"It's so beautiful out here" I commented

"Yeah it is but I'm looking at something even more beautiful" he said while looking at me making me blush like crazy

"Stop it your making me blush" I said hiding my face

"Don't hide your face you look cute when you blush" he flirted while taking my hands off my cheeks

"You don't have to lie I know I look like a tomato" I said

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He blurted out

"Wait what yes I would love nothing more" I replied a bit stunned

"Oh thank god I didn't mean to blurt that out it just felt like the right moment" Fabio explained

He asked me again this time properly and of course I said yes again which made him pull me to him and kiss my lips just as the sun went down over the horizon which I think is a the most romantic thing that has ever happened in my life. We stayed sat down for a few moments longer before we got up and continued our walk around the last part of the track and this time Fabio had his arm around my waist so that I was closer to his side. Once we made it back to the paddock there was a few guys stood around looking over to us and when Fabio nodded his head they all cheered which made me laugh. He must have been planning to ask me for a while as loads of people seemed to know which only made the smile on my face bigger as it meant he had been talking about me to his friends which I didn't think he had because of how private we have been trying to keep things.

~~~~~~~~~~

This whole weekend has been absolutely amazing and I have enjoyed every second even though it has been stressful watching Fabio as I'm convinced he's going to crash all the time but he just doesn't. As much as it's stressful it has been so fun watching him especially as he has been doing really well all weekend and even qualified second which I was so proud of as some of the others had been looking really good all weekend but of course he managed to pull out the lap when it was needed. Today is race day and I couldn't be more excited because I have watched so many races on tv and always wanted to experience it live and now I finally get to. I've been so excited that I woke up at 5am and couldn't get back to sleep so when Fabio's alarm finally went off I took the opportunity to wake him up myself by climbing on top of him and peppering his face with kisses. He opened his eyes and gave me the most devilish grin before flipping us over and beginning to tickle me because he knows I'm super ticklish and he takes joy from making me suffer. Eventually he stopped when I was really wheezing from running out of breath and pulled me up from the bed so that we could get ready for the day.

Since we have become official I have been a lot less stressed about being seen with Fabio as it feels like rumours or things said don't matter so much anymore because before I was worried that Fabio would be put off if people didn't like me but I don't feel like that anymore as I don't think he'd make me his girlfriend if he could be so easily influenced. Having the cameras on me while in the garage also hasn't bothered me like I thought it would as I either just ignore them like Fabio told me to or just simply wave and then go back to watching the session. Knowing that Fabio is mine and that we aren't hiding our little thing from everyone has made this weekend a whole lot more relaxing as it's not in the back of my mind the whole time and we don't have to be quite so careful around the paddock of an evening.

The whole morning was hectic as first it was warm up then the other 2 races were before the motogp race. As Fabio has friends in the other classes he wanted to watch those races so we spent most of our time stood in the pit lane watching the races which was a lot of fun as I haven't had the chance to watch too much of the other classes all weekend so it was cool to get to see some other younger riders who could be the future of the sport. Once those races were over though it was time for Fabio to head back to the motorhome and get himself ready to go out there himself. All morning I haven't really been thinking about the race as my attention has been on the other races but now that there is nothing else to think about I can feel myself getting more and more nervous as the minutes count down. Over the weekend I have been able to control my nerves as I know Fabio is more than capable and that its not over yet but now that it's the race and the result matters I don't know if I'll be able to control the nerves.

Fabio did all of his preparation in the motorhome before we went to the garage so that he could hop on the bike to do the formation lap. He said a quick goodbye to me before going out as he would be back to the garage after getting the bike to the grid so there was no need for me to properly wish him luck yet. It was only a matter of minutes before he was back and we stood in the garage together while he went over some last minute things with the team including checking he was happy with the tyre choice which he was. Before long he had to head back out to the grid so he gave me a hug and I wished him good luck before he kissed me and ran out the garage to his bike. He hasn't kissed me in front of anyone yet so when he kissed me in the garage in front of a load of mechanics I couldn't help but blush so when he left I was just stood in the middle of the garage looking like a tomato. Luckily no one noticed and I could sit down by the little screens in the garage and watch everyone on the grid until my cheeks cooled down.

Before I knew it the warm up lap was done and the lights went out which made my stress levels go through the roof as everyone went round the first corner as from my experience watching the first corner is always the worst. Somehow everyone made it through fine and I relaxed a little bit more seeing that Fabio was leading and was doing well to get a bit of a gap so that hopefully he wouldn't be overtaken after the main straight. My hopes didn't work as Pecco got him in the run to the first corner but I had no time to think about it as Fabio went right up the inside in the corner which had me closing my eyes until I heard the team celebrating as I knew that meant he had pulled it off. The whole next lap was very stressful and then we got back round to the first corner and the camera switched to further down the field but switched back all of a sudden when a bike went sliding out into the gravel. For a split second I was worried it was Fabio but I quickly realised that it was Pecco and that Fabio had a gap to Zarco in 2nd.

The rest of the race was relatively easy as Fabio just stretched out more and more of a gap until he crossed the line in first. I never thought I would feel such strong emotions about racing but as soon as I saw Fabio cross the line I was overwhelmed with happiness and just so proud of him that I probably would have cried if I wasn't in front of a load of people but because I was I held it back. Everyone in the garage celebrated and some got ready to head to parc ferme to meet Fabio there and originally I didn't think I would go but Fabio's friend Tom practically pulled me out the garage with him and down pit lane. When we arrived to parc ferme Tom went to the front of the crowd of mechanics but I stayed at the back not wanting to get in the way or be in the zone of the cameras.

As soon as Fabio pulled in he jumped off the bike and came over to hug everyone which I watched from afar until he saw me and reached a hand out to pull me through the crowd where he hugged me and kissed me right in front of everyone. To start with I panicked as I knew that the kiss would have been caught on camera but when I saw Fabio's smile I let it all go as I knew that he wouldn't let things get out of control. With that he left for his interview and of course they asked him about it but he answered super calmly and simply told them that I was his girlfriend and that he was happy to finally have me at a race which was really nice to hear him say. All of this does me we are definitely official which is going to be a challenge but one I'm super excited to take on as I'll be doing it with the man I love.

[rubybirdgrad603]

Week Four - Feedback + Illustrator

The first part of the class was focused on getting feedback on our work so far. I printed out some smaller versions of some digital work to bring in, which I made annotations on. 

I also created a couple more poster ideas for the feedback session, as well as making a start on some brochure layouts. 

New Ideas

Poster trial - I like the high contrast of this poster concept. The abstract typography which uses positive and negative space is also very interesting. The issue with this is that it is hard to read; I would need to add another heading with Typografika ‘24 to make it more legible. I’m also not sure about the placement of the information vertically on the right as it is easily missed. For important information, it needs to be thought out more so it has visual hierarchy. While I really like the design, it would be challenging to translate the ideas onto the brochure while keeping the information easily accessible and clear.

This poster trial uses the same type layout as a previous trial but without the photographs. I wanted to test out using letterforms in a more image style way, which I did by incorporating them into the background. I was quite happy with this colour palette, as it is restrained but also has high contrast, which allows the type to be easily digested. The layout of type is something I am not happy with, but this was created more to test out the background idea than anything else. With my typographic decisions worked through more, I could refine this concept more. I also think this idea would be easy to translate to the brochure side.

Brochure Testing

These are first trials of the brochure, using styles I worked with in some poster concepts. This was really useful to do, as it gave me an idea about how much information needed to go on each panel, and what type sizes were able to be used. While neither of these are particularly refined, it was a good starting point that I can continue working with.

Formative Printouts + Notes

From these printouts, I got a lot of helpful feedback on how to improve my work. One key takeaway was that it is easier to work with the brochure side first and translate this into a poster rather than the other way around. It is easy to get carried away with ideas for the poster which are too hard to work into a very content heavy brochure.

Before getting feedback, I wrote myself some annotations on the printouts of things I wanted to work one. A key one was colour, as I hadn’t put much thought into colour use. Some palettes were too high contrast for text to be legible, which wasn’t working. Some typographic layouts needed more alignment to give a cleaner final look. Also, the placement of info like dates, location, and website was not laid out in a way that gave it enough hierarchy in some posters. 

For the brochure layout, some helpful feedback I got was the idea of moving the photos to the edges of each panel, which would give the type more room to breathe. Because of the amount of text required on each panel, I need to maximise space so that I can keep the point size at an acceptable size. I want to use 10pt, which will require more space. Another key piece of feedback about the pink brochure was that I need to aware of how the brochure will be read as one panel. I need to be careful with artist names and photograph placements, as they need to be placed together. In that brochure trial, some artist names were closer to another’s photograph which would cause confusion. The gentler colour usage and lesser contrast in the pink brochure made it easier to consume, which I think is a good point for when I move to finalise the colour palette. The orange boxes made the information appear too disjointed which makes the panels hard to read. A positive piece of feedback I got was that the contrast in text size between the biography text and the name headings was a nice feature. It was slightly too big for the information to be comfortable, but with moving the photos to the edges of the panels, there might be enough space for the information to fit comfortably. 

Feedback + Printing Information Notes

The idea of tiling print is a new concept for me, so I want to test it out a couple of times before the final. This will be good for me to learn this print technique, as see how the work appears at actual size in a physical product. 

Illustrator Tutorial

The class tutorial was about using Illustrator and the benefits it has as a vector based software. The key function of vectors is that they are scaleable without sacrificing quality, unlike raster based images. We practised using the pen tool and stroke functions which will be useful for creating the venue map for the brochure.

The most useful part of this tutorial for me was working with caps, joins, and stroke styles. I wasn’t aware of the range of options available for the stroke, and I found it useful when trying out recreating the map.

Notes

Original Map - From provided copywriting document

Full Detail map - traced all buildings in the area

Simplified map - included only key buildings.

Map inserted into brochure layout - with building and street labels.

[dzpenumbra]

12/19/22

Rough day. Very little sleep. Wrote a very long text to my mom, trying to explain how fucked up our situation is from a 3rd person perspective, which I really need to stop doing. I guess my impulsivity takes some non-traditional forms. I impulsively try to do other peoples' therapeutic work for them. It's really not good at all.

I slept like absolute garbage. I had night terrors. I woke up freaked out, sweating, shaking, white knuckled, teeth clenched. It was bad. I only got 5 hours of sleep, I just stayed up. I chilled for a bit, tried to decompress. I smoked. I ended up listening to a lot of music and writing my music/rant thing I posted earlier.

I did the yoga again, it was even easier than last time. Such a cool feeling. Don't get me wrong, it's very difficult, but it gets easier each time which is awesome. I signed up for a 30 day yoga-at-home thing that I'm going to do starting on New Years. That was a much healthier impulse decision. And I finally stopped payments on my Minecraft server. Because that was getting fucking sad. And they demanded to know why I was cancelling my payments on my server, so I wrote "My friend decided to ditch and I couldn't find any new friends. That was like... 3 months ago... and I think I'm done renting an empty server. Sorry. I might come back if I find like-minded people."

I ordered chinese food. (It was... okay...) I got my packages from the package room when I picked it up. My new whiteboard got here, I was really excited. It's like a rolled up mat and its a big magnet so you can just stick it to the fridge. It works really well, and it's really big, like 16x24 or something. I started getting it prepped up to do a meal plan and groceries... I literally wrote the word "MEALS" and I dropped my brand new dry-erase marker. And it rolled under the fridge. And I was fucking hyperfocused on this task, I was locked the fuck in, so I was like... "welp, we're fishing this marker out now, that's what's going on." So I grabbed Max's fishing rod toy thing, laid flat on the kitchen floor and started fishing it out. And I heard someone very close to me - not sure if it was next door or underneath me - say "really, dude? come on." And I softly but audibly said "please just give me five minutes, I don't want to just give up on this."

I spent like 25 minutes trying to get this fucking pen out from under the fridge. I refused to give up. I ended up moving the entire fridge like 3 times. And I got it. I got the fucking pen. I have it right next to me. But... okay... I feel bad, because I have no awareness of how much sound I make. I have lived alone a VERY long time. I have zero perspective of how the sound that I generate carries to locations that are not... my ears... How would I know? So I try to be super, super mindful of making noise. Especially late at night. I mean, I basically tip-toe around my own apartment every night, and it's a lot of unnecessary stress. But you know, when the most common social interactions you have are being accused, blamed or yelled at... you kinda evolve to... expect it? And to do your very best to avoid it. Even if it's unlikely.

Meanwhile, the neighbors upstairs are constantly making tons of noise, and they even watched a movie tonight. And the neighbors on the other side of my kitchen wall have a dog... who barks pretty much every day. And I really don't mind it at all, but like... bro... I'm fishing a marker out from under my fridge. Like... just put a song on and you won't hear anything. Please. I really don't need to get yelled at for that. I'm still recovering from being yelled at, I'm super, super jumpy and... even this frustrated whisper just... made me emotionally curl up in a ball. And get sad. And get frustrated.

Welcome to my daily life.

On the plus side, I got my Brita filter jug thing set up, so that's cool, I hope it will encourage me to drink more water. And the box was perfectly Max-sized, so I took a blanket that used to be on my studio comfy chair and lined the box and just put it in the middle of the room and I shit you not, she has been sleeping in it all day long. She loves it. And I want to build a little frame for it and put it in the windowsill so she can get some sun in the mornings and watch the birds and squirrels outside. I think she'll love it.

Since I lost all of my to-do lists yesterday. Yep. Thanks a lot, Apple. Never fucking storing a to-do list on my phone again, I swear. Since I lost all like 4 of my to-do lists, I have been plotting to bring the whiteboards back full-force. Whiteboards strategically placed in visible and highly trafficked areas around my house have been my #1 most effective tool for executive functioning. By leaps and bounds. Paper lists get lost. Phone apps... I have to remember to open them, or I just get so numb to the notification vibrations that I just ignore them. But if I walk past a gigantic fuck-off whiteboard every day and train myself to check in with it? No way I'm missing that. And this has worked historically for extended periods of time.

So I got the little one set up. It used to be for meals and groceries, but since I have the fridge one now... this small one is going to be a visible reminder for Repeat Projects. I want to put it right above my monitor. So if it's work time and I don't have a project I'm actively working on... I have a list of 10 things I can start working on. Shape/polish stones, wrap stones, carve wooden beads, weave cordage, wood carving, tarot study, sketchdaily, poetry/lyrics, poetry illustration (for my book), and clothing art. So if I'm not locked in on a project that day, I have a wide variety of inspiration sitting visibly in a location I go to every morning. Seems like it'll work well.

And I just finished working on the BIG whiteboard. I didn't make a lot of progress. I don't have a system. I used to do like... a grid, with spaces to check things off. Stream, exercise, socialize, edit, shit like that. I'm tempted to do like... a symbol system or something? But I'm just... I'm drawing a blank on what to even put on it. I want to track yoga, meditation, maybe even have space for like... checking in with my vitals: food, water, sleep, confidence. And I want to allocate space for like... breaking my big-scale projects into smaller chunks, and giving myself the option of recording those small chunks as daily accomplishments, as well as progress towards big goals. Like the poetry book, I need to brainstorm illustrations for it, look for like... how the fuck you even get started publishing, what you do... then, do that... And actually do the illustrations too. So... a LOT of steps in there. But if I break it down into tiny things, like "decide if I want illustrations for every piece or just a few." Or "find out one thing I can do to move the process of getting published forward." That's something I can and will definitely tackle. So having those visible right next to my daily/weekly accomplishment log feels like a very good psychological association to make.

I am ridiculously tired. I've been nodding off all day but never slept. If I had a futon, I would have passed out on it today, 100%.

No plan for tomorrow, I need to breathe and shed the pressure a bit, I'm still very raw and discombobulated. So my plan is to... prep for when it's time to add structure. Then, when I get my strength back, I have the tools I need to get shit done.

But I really need to get to the grocery store soon, I'm getting super low on food and this delivery shit is insanely expensive.