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polkadotpenguin16 · 2 months

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The Five Stages of Grief: Denial

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: more angst; language

Word count: 1,871

Previous parts: Prologue

You went from crying on your bathroom floor to your best friend’s kitchen. Floors seemed to be the best place for a mental breakdown. Your friend wasn’t much of a drinker, but she did have a couple boxes of white wine meant for cooking. She said this was a much better use.

It did the trick.

You couldn’t believe you just walked away from Sonny like that. But you felt like you had no other options. You’ve spent far too long in relationships, both romantic and platonic, being someone’s second choice. Waiting for them to choose you. You couldn’t do it again.

“And he just stood there trying to explain why he just HAD to help AMANDA tonight.” You were retelling the night’s events, a little tipsy from the shitty wine. “How could he think that was okay? Spending all night at some other woman’s house?! How can someone be so smart, and so cute, and so…fucking stupid?”

“Probably all that hair gel,” she suggested nonchalantly. “Too thick to let any commonsense in.”

That made you snort through your nose. She was always good at making heavy situations feel lighter.

“I’m really sorry, girlfriend. You deserve better.” She tenderly rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your broken heart. “But you know Sonny. He’s a little…thick…but he’s got a big heart. He just wants to help everyone. That’s why you fell in love with him, remember? Sonny the Superman?”

“Whatever.” You took another swig from the box. “It’s probably better this way.”

“Hey, now, you don’t mean that—”

“I DO mean that! I was never good enough for him!” You were getting animated, spilling wine everywhere. “You’re right—he’s Superman. He needs to be with somebody just as super. Someone he can fight crimes with. Or talk about his lawyer-y stuff with who actually understands him. I mean, who knows what the hell he’s talking about? He should come with a translator. And build a perfect life with them. Y’know, the two-and-a-half kids, a dog, and the white picket fence and shit!”

You started crying again. How did you have any tears left? “He deserves the best. And she’s it! Hell, he’s probably been in love with her since they met. Why he settled for a nobody like me in the first place, I’ll never know. I’m no superhero. My power is organizing spreadsheets and tripping over my own feet. He could have Wonder Woman. Why would he want to be stuck with…whoever the fuck Superman’s lame girlfriend is!”

Your friend was quiet, letting you vent and trying to find the right words. “I know it seems that way right now.” She softens her voice, forcing you to listen more intently to hear her. “That this is all doom and gloom. Just give it time. Have some grace. His love is genuine, and he never considered it settling. You’ll work everything out.”

Resting your head against the refrigerator, you sighed. “I don’t think this can be fixed, girl. Maybe…maybe it shouldn’t be.”

She leaned in for a hug, wrapping you tightly in her embrace. You sob into her shoulder, deeply leaning into her for support. You sat silently for a while, the same thought echoing over and over in your mind.

Maybe it’s better this way…

Sonny was brought out of his trance by his alarm buzzing. He hadn’t slept at all. He just kept replaying what happened last night. It was in crystal clear high-definition in his head. How heartbroken you were. How hurt you were.

Then you just disappeared.

He hoped you’d text him when you got to your friend’s place like he asked. For his peace of mind and a sign that you didn’t completely hate him. Anxiously staring at his phone for much longer than he knew it would take you to get there, it felt like his heart was going to erupt from his chest. The list of horrific things that could’ve happened to you was getting too long. Desperate, Sonny texted your friend. He just had to know where you were. It wasn’t until after 2 in the morning that he got a reply.

Yeah she’s here.

Well, at least he knew you were safe. Still uneasy, he dared to ask if you were okay. Deep down, he already knew the answer, and it was reinforced by her response.

You think she’d be here if she was okay? Give her some time. When she’s ready, you better fix this mess you made.

This disconnect was torturing him. He wanted to fix things now. But your friend was right. He resigned himself to waiting until you came back later.

He tries his best to put himself together and heads to the precinct. Dragging his feet, he stumbled into the bullpen.

“You get hit by a bus on the way?” Rollins immediately noticed his haggard appearance. “You look like crap.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered sitting at his desk, head in his hands, trying to collect himself.

“What, your girlfriend kick you out or something?” Fin joked from his seat.

“Actually, she left last night.”

“Wait, really?” Rollins was surprised to hear this. He made the two of you sound like a fairytale love story. You were his favorite topic and would bring you up in every conversation he could. She wondered what could have changed.

Fin glared at him suspiciously. “Whaddya do?”

Sonny took a deep breath. “I, uh, forgot about our date last night, and I, sorta…stood her up.” He was mentally kicking himself for being such a moron. The guilt made his stomach churn and his head throb.

“Dude...” Fin sat back in his chair and leered.

“I know, I know. I was helping Rollins, and I just—I spaced it. She packed a bag and went to stay with her friend.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” Rollins tilted her head back and forth as she weighed out his actions. “But I get why she’d be upset. You should’ve told me you had plans, Carisi.”

Sonny buried his face deeper into his hands, feeling even guiltier.

“Stood her up? She ain’t ever gonna forget that, man,’” Fin remarked, rubbing salt into his wounds.

“But it’s gonna be fine.” Sonny sat up with a newfound determination. “We’ll talk tonight when she gets back. I’ll beg for forgiveness, and it’ll all work out.”

Rollins looked at him skeptically. “You sure about that?”

“Of course, I’m sure!” He huffed, astonished she would even ask. “Couples fight, it’s natural. They kiss, they make up, and things go back to how they were.”

“Most fights don’t include the girl leaving in the middle of the night,” Fin pointed out.

“She just—she needed some time to cool down.” You’ve always been able to resolve your arguments. They’d never been this intense before, but Sonny was confident this was all going to blow over. “She’s gonna come home and we’ll talk. I’m gonna fix this, and this will all have been a horrible dream.”

“If you say so.” Sounding unconvinced, she returned to her laptop.

Luckily, it was a slow day at the station. A rarity as of late. Sonny busted his hump finishing all his paperwork so he could ask Benson if he could head out early.

“Leaving so soon?” Rollins questioned as he put on his coat.

“Gotta run to the store and grab some things for dinner. I want everything to be perfect when she gets back.”

“I’d be picking up some flowers if I were you,” Fin advised as he sipped his coffee.

“That too—the whole nine yards.”

“Well, best of luck to you,” she hollered as he sprinted toward the elevator.

He went to the store and picked up everything to make chicken marsala. It was the first dish he ever cooked for you. He bought extra ingredients so he would have enough leftovers for you to have lunch for work tomorrow.

He swung by the flower stand to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorites. He planned out his apology in his head on the way back. Thinking of all the ways he messed up and how he would rectify them.

When he got home, he called out to you, but didn’t hear a response. Setting the bags down, he looked around the apartment to see that you weren’t home yet. Concerned, he checked his watch. It was a little early. You were probably still at work. He unpacked the groceries and started preparing dinner.

After washing the produce and still no sign of you, worry started to creep in. He knew you needed some space last night, but surely, you’d come back soon. He was positive you missed him as much as he missed you. So, he decided to send you a text.

Hey doll, what time are you coming home? Getting dinner on the stove and want it to be ready when you get back.

There was no answer. Five minutes turned into ten. He chopped up the mushrooms and garlic and let them sauté in the pan before checking his phone. There was still nothing. He opened a bottle of beer to help settle his nerves. It was half-way gone when he checked again.

Still, nothing.

Not wanting to panic yet, he texted you again.

I’m sorry about last night. I really need to talk to you. I miss you.

Several more minutes passed. He could see the messages labeled as “read” on his phone. You just weren’t responding. Skipping past panic and going into full-blown hysteria, he fumbled with his phone trying to call you. He paced around the kitchen anxiously while listening to the phone ring.

Once. Twice. Three times.

He heard the call pick up after the fourth ring. But he couldn’t hear anyone on the other end. “Doll?” He asked hesitantly, wondering if you had actually answered.

He barely heard a whisper, “…yes…”

“Doll, are you okay?! When are you coming home?” He was frantic, talking a mile a minute. “Please come back! I’m really sorry and have to talk to you—I need to explain. We’ve gotta work this out. Just please—I need you to come home!”

You silently wept while listening to him ramble. You wanted to believe this could all be fixed, but your heart was telling you it would be futile. The cycle would just continue. What would happen the next time someone else needed him? Would you be enough?

“I’m sorry…” You were barely able to get your words out. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” It felt like his whole world was slipping through his fingers. Like water through a sieve. He was unable to stop it or even slow it down. “We have to fix this! Please come home!”

“I love you, but I just…” The line went quiet. He called out your name once, twice, but it was useless.

You were gone.

Sonny had never felt so defeated in his life. Slumping against the counter, he slammed his phone down. His eyes started to feel wet. He stood in the kitchen and quietly cried, taken aback by the fallout of one night. One mistake. One forgotten date.

#oh god she writes now #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu #anti rollisi

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therobotmonster · 1 year

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Let's talk about Toys in Cereal

This is a part of several posts of mine that have gotten big, but I figure it's best to address the phenomenon itself in a new post.

If you want to just browse a ton of cool old cereal toys once we're done, go to: www.cratercritters.com. It's a neat site.

Cereal toys are a long-standing American tradition. Some tag-questions asked if they went away because of greed or because of regulations, and that's complicated.

There are food regulations that complicate things. You may have heard that Kinder Eggs are not legal in the US.

This is usually framed as a "fear the stupid American Kids will eat the toy" kind of thing. This is not the case.

The actual regulation that blocks the Kinder Egg is about food safety from bacterial and undisclosed allergen contamination. Inserting a baggie with a toy into that exposes everything in the cereal bag to the outside of the toy package, and that's a no-no in the US market. The rare thing we're more strict about than the EU.

But that doesn't affect cereal toys, because they can get around it by having it in a separate package outside the food bag, between the inner back and the cardboard box. Much easier on the parents to find when you open the box, too.

Kinder has, themselves, addressed the US Kinder Egg problem the same way, with the Kinder Joy.

Splitting the package. into two sections that are individually sealed.

But a big blow to the practice was the end of the Australian R&L Toy Company.

R&L made tons of simple pack-in Premium toys from the 60s through the 80s. They were the primary supplier to Kelloggs, and made everything from simple one-piece figurines to little build-yourself-action-toys.

For instance, these "Wacky Walkers" worked by tying a string to the figure and the weight, then dropping the weight off a table. The figures would hobble forward on their feet, pulled by the weight. Neat-o!

Then there's stuff like these Toolybirds. I'd sell any one of you to the goblin king for a set of these, because I sure can't afford them at $25 apiece or more. I'll probably just make some dinosaur-knockoff version or somesuch to 3d print, eventually.

R&L went out of business in the 80s and its molds were sold to a toy manufacturing company in Mexico that produced their stuff as bag toys for awhile, before everything just faded away.

Meanwhile, the cereal market was forced to contract elsewhere without a devoted company doing essentially just that.

Liscenses came to the rescue. Fun fact, if you wanted toys from most of the Disney Afternoon, your only hope was Kellogg's.

As time went on, you started even getting software in cereal.

Chex gave out a free, PG-version of DOOM for free. Not a couple of demo levels, a whole game, run on the doom engine, with aliens you zap with a spoon.

But as time went on, companies got less and less into the idea of enticing with freebies, and parents started objecting to the marketing of sugar cereals with toy surprises, because given the opportunity, most parents will blame the company for making something the kid wants for their unwillingness to say "No."

The eternal conflict:

Cool thing the kid would enjoy that you might have to put your foot down over because enforcing moderation is a parent's job, verses unobjectionable conformist mush designed to increase your kids' "goodness levels."

I think the banning of cartoon mascots for snacks in certain countries is also ridiculous.

Thing is, any company could bring them back at any time.

The Monster cereals did figurines of their mascots in cosplay in 2021. Of course, they did it as a limited edition bullshit thing where the actual monster cereal mascots were chase figures, but they made them, they could do them at any time if they wanted to.

They could bring the magic back. Nothing is stopping them.

'cept there's no room for joy on the spreadsheet.

Gotta hit you with a little ennui. It's that ambergris stink that makes the perfume truly sweet.

#cereal toys #R&L toys #the merch #prize in your cereal #cereal #kellogg's #monster cereals #count chocula

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saltminerising · 9 months

Note

S from Shadow here. First of all, I want to apologize for my part in the thread killer list. I know the list did damage to the entire UMA community and I think everyone in it deserves an apology for my idiocy. I also want to clarify some things about my role in the thread killer list, because there's some misinformation about me being spread around that I want to clarify.

I did not end up helping with the list. That was all D. I pushed for a longer time for skins to be considered thread killers. 2-3 hours was ridiculous at the time and I pushed for longer. The only thing I did was suggest a spreadsheet and offer to code it.

The reason I did in the first place is because I genuinely thought I was helping the community. I know it sounds dumb, but at the time I thought it was the right thing. I didn't stop to consider the effect it would have on the artists and if I had thought about it for even one second, we wouldn't be here today.

I understand now that what I said and offered to do was stupid and harmful. I'm sorry for all the damage I caused to the UMA community as a whole. I have edited that post where I offered to code the spreadsheet with an apology. I don't expect everyone to forgive me, I just want people to understand there was no malice.

I don't stand for art elitism. I think it's made the art community a toxic place and I try to go out of my way to encourage other artists. I feel like people have been assuming I was trying to be elitist when that wasn't my intent. I understand how what I said could be interpreted that I was and I want to work on that.

I am not friends with S, D, or RW. I don't think I'd really talked with any of them before this and I haven't talked to them since. Please stop calling us buddies. I don't know about the relationship between S, D and RW but I don't know them. I would really like if people would stop acting like I'm as bad as them. They all doubled down on the thread killer list being right, I didn't. They're full ass adults, I'm a minor. If the minor in the situation can admit they were wrong, the adults in the situation sure as hell can. Instead they've chosen to double down and I don't think they'll change their minds.

I've asked SMR to pause posts containing me. You're allowed to hold me accountable and be upset with me for my actions, I get it. However, it's messing with my mental health and that's why I've asked SMR to delete posts mentioning me. As horrible as you may think I am, I don't think what I did was egregious enough to justify severely messing with my mental health.

The idea of the thread itself is flawed. It's fundamentally "I hate this art, so I'm gonna go get another artist's art I like more!" This was inevitable. This thread was always going to be a clusterfuck and Aeq should have just locked it when this issue started. Something similar is probably going to happen again in this thread. The entire idea of this thread is doomed to fail.

Once again, I'm sorry for the damage I caused the UMA community and I understand I'm going to have to face the consequences of encouraging the thread killer list to grow. I just want people to understand my side and understand I didn't do it with malicious intent. I don't speak for S, D or RW. I don't know what their intentions were. I just wanted a chance to apologize and explain my intentions. I feel judged without the chance to explain myself. Thank you for taking the time to hear me out

#long post #skins and accents #forums

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universitypenguin · 1 year

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Chapter XIII

The Princess & The Lawyer

Summary: A scare with her stalker causes Princess to take matters into her own hands. Meanwhile in Idaho, Lloyd finds himself between a rock and hard place.

Word Count: 8,058

Masterlist

Warnings: Description of a physical assault with a blunt weapon, stalking, harassment, dangerous encounter with a semi-wild animal, cowboy/ranch work, illegal drug trade, and corruption. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors.

Author’s Note: I wish this installment hadn’t taken so long, but between going on interviews and then changing jobs, the past few months have been crazy. Thank you for waiting, encouraging me, and sticking with this story.

Chapter XIII

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

You were counting down the seconds until you could end this call but Weston Tafferty was in prime form tonight. Even though you’d clocked out thirty minutes ago, he seemed to think your personal time was fair game for work-related conversation. He continued to fire off questions as you struggled to fill in your eyebrows and carry your end of the conversation. If he didn’t wrap this up soon, you’d still be on the phone with him during your belated family birthday dinner.

“Why wasn’t I cc’d on your emails to Detective Roth?” Weston asked.

“I’m not using my work account for those messages. Roth set me up on their encrypted server.”

“And this prevents you from emailing me how?”

“Wes, that information is too sensitive to share.”

“Hmmm. I’ll give you a pass for now, but next time, make sure I’m in the loop. I also noticed you haven’t been using my spreadsheet system. If you don’t comply with departmental requirements, I’ll have to write you up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Listen, I’m already off work and I have plans. Email me the details and I’ll take it up with HR.”

A while ago this sort of micromanagement would’ve sent you through the roof. Tonight, other stresses were taking up too much mental space for you to care. And thanks to Weston’s call, you were running ten minutes late. You tapped your phone to check the time and realized ten minutes had become fifteen. Great. Your Mom would kill you if you were late to your own party.

Another icon on the home screen caught your eye. There was no little red number hoovering in the corner of your message app to announce new texts.

There had been no new messages for a week.

Aiden had just… stopped. It should feel good, but your nervous system was screaming. An impending sense of doom settled over you and kept you trapped in the house all week. Your gut said this ceasefire was temporary and Aiden was biding his time.

You’d filed a complaint with the police and he'd gone no contact. It was disorienting. Just when you started taking Aiden’s threats seriously, he stopped making them. Filling out the paperwork at Metro had stripped away the delusion you’d maintained last week. Writing the incidents in black and white on police forms laid waste to your sense of security. As the silence had stretched from one day into two, and then into four, fear sank deeper into your consciousness.

Staying locked in Lloyd’s house forever wasn’t an option. If it were, you’d do just that. But your parents had already delayed your birthday celebration because of the Singapore trip, and backing out now would demand an explanation you weren’t prepared to give.

Checking your reflection in the full-length mirror, you frowned. Thanks to Aiden’s threats about your apartment, you’d avoided going home, so the only dinner outfit you had was the dress Lloyd gave you in Singapore. Unfortunately, the skirt didn’t cover your knees. Self-defense lessons with Landon and Jake had left them covered in ugly bruises.

There was no way Vivan wouldn’t notice and then your mother would make a fuss. You tried covering the marks with concealer. As you were applying setting powder, your phone buzzed. Hands full of makeup, you glanced at the screen.

A message read: Here.

You were expecting Jake and tapped ‘K’ in reply.

There was a noise from below as the front door opened, then the scuff of sneakers on tile. You tossed the concealer into your makeup bag and rinsed your hands before heading downstairs.

“Hey, Jake! Guess what? No new messages today. He’s gone from obsessed to silent. It’s crazy…”

You turned the corner and froze. The visitor wasn’t Jake.

“Zach!”

He removed his sunglasses, hooking them on the top button of his shirt.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by,” you said.

“I texted. Jake’s working late. He asked me to check in, said there’d been trouble with raccoons knocking over garbage cans.”

“Yes… Racoons.”

“Everything okay?” Zach asked.

“Absolutely.”

He cocked his head. “Yeah? Who were you talking about before?”

“Uh… I was scheduling a follow up with a witness. A witness in another case. He was responsive at first, like, obnoxiously, but suddenly… you know. He’s ghosting me.”

“You seem nervous.”

You needed to lie - convincingly.

“I’m fighting with Vivian, and my birthday dinner is tonight. It’s going to be interesting.”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah. Just family drama.”

“Hmmm. Jake’s been cracking his knuckles all week, which is never a good sign. I checked the location history on our work phones and saw Landon and Jake have been stopping by regularly. What gives, Y/N?”

“That sounds like an invasion of privacy,” you said.

“They’re my phones. Speaking of… give me yours.”

He held out his hand.

“No way.”

“Suppose the racoons aren’t just racoons, Princess. Give me your phone. I won’t check the location without cause.”

You hesitated.

Zach wiggled his fingers. “Give it.”

You handed him the phone. Zach tapped in commands as you collected your purse. By the time you’d checked your wallet and keys, he’d installed the app.

“When did you hear the racoons?”

“Ten-thirty.”

“Did the floodlights come on?” Zach asked.

“Ah… I don’t remember.”

You wished Jake had given you a heads up about the cover story. Zach passed you the phone.

“I’ll take a look. Don’t let me keep you, I’ve got my own keys.”

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“Charlene, don’t be a bitch. Let’s talk about this before you do something crazy.”

Lloyd tried to make his tone as cajoling as possible. Facing down the bad-tempered female with death in her tawny eyes, he was willing to press any advantage he could, including charm.

The cow snorted and bobbed her head. He recognized that look and untethered his rope from the saddle horn in response. Through the act his eyes stayed locked on Charlene. She might be a Charolais heifer, but her temperament rivaled the most vicious Jersey bull. He uncoiled his rope and extended the loop to allow for her horns. While he understood his father had been sick, it was a crime not to have de-horned this monster when she was born. Her attitude was defense enough without having weapons attached to her head.

He swung the lasso a few times, getting it into shape.

“Charlene” – so named because all Charolais heifers were Charlene in his book – pawed the ground. Getting her out of the pasture hadn’t been easy and herding her through the corrals was an event he’d rather forget. But he hadn’t expected the sight of the narrow alley into the loading chute would turn her into a psychotic demon.

The rail-road tie fencing of the alley was six feet high and not much wider inside. Charlene had made up her mind about it in an instant, despite the fact she’d probably never seen such a thing before in her life. He’d found most of his father’s herd balked at the loading chute. Even in the pasture they acted half-wild, like they hadn’t seen a human in years. After that discovery he’d installed a series of gates in the alleyway for better control. The first was at the entrance and another positioned in the middle to prevent cows from backing up or creating a crowd-crush. The system worked, assuming the animal went in.

Charlene bellowed and raised her head, puffing herself up. Jane, the quarter horse under him, shuffled back a step. He hoped she had nerves of steel because the last thing he wanted was to snap his neck getting bucked off and finding out what the business end of Charlene’s horns felt like was equally unappealing.

“Can you hurry it up? We’re behind schedule!”

The semi-truck driver called to him over the fence and Lloyd ignored him. He adjusted the rope and turned it so the loop’s bottom strand flipped over his wrist. When he raised his arm, muscle memory kicked in. Without a conscious thought his thumb clenched and his fingers curled, while his elbow and shoulder rolled in a familiar motion. He stood up and put most of his weight into the left stirrup, preparing for the throw. When Charlene’s muscles rippled, he angled the lasso down and threw the loop, relishing the speed as it flew over his hand.

He was still focused on the mechanics of the action when Jane spooked. He’d leaned into the throw which placed his weight in the opposite direction of where she’d run. When she bucked again, he swore and lost a stirrup. Lloyd grabbed the saddle horn and fought to keep his seat.

The lasso sailed over Charlene’s horns despite Jane’s fit. He drew it snug and anchored the rope to his saddle horn. When the little roan under him felt the rope pull, she spun around, leaning back on her haunches. Charlene tossed her head, fighting the restraint.

“Good girl, Jane. You’re a roping horse, aren't you?”

The mare flicked her ears in appreciation. He laughed, surprised at his good fortune. His father hadn’t had many good traits but his taste in horses was impeccable. Lloyd twisted the rope back and forth. Charlene bellowed as it rubbed and moved forward. When he clicked his tongue, Jane backed into the narrow alleyway, dragging Charlene along.

“Hey, kid!” Lloyd called to the driver’s assistant.

“Yes, sir?”

“Shut that gate!”

This was the farthest he’d gotten her. If he lost his grip on the rope, he’d rather chase her in the confinement of the alley than around the corral. When the gate clanged shut behind her, the heifer kicked at it and made contact, causing the panel to clang against the chain fastener.

Charlene lunged at Jane.

The horse reared and Lloyd leaned into the movement just in time to avoid a tumble. Jane turned in mid-air and landed facing the gate that had just been shut. Lloyd yanked his rope over the saddle horn, and leapt off. He smacked Jane’s hind quarters, sending her galloping, and whistled at the heifer to keep her attention while the kid opened the gate for the horse.

Whistling really pissed Charlene off.

He turned and sprinted for the fence and felt her breath on his back pocket just as his foot hit the railing. He managed to climb halfway up before she slammed into his leg. Lloyd gasped at the burst of pain. When the pressure let up, he jumped down and rolled under the second gate.

“Holy shit, you’ve got a death wish,” the driver said. “I’m not taking this one!”

“She’ll calm down. She just doesn’t like trailers,” Lloyd said.

He had no idea if that was true, but he wasn’t about to keep her around to find out.

Charlene paced back and forth, eyeing him on the other side of the gate, dragging the rope he’d dropped through the mud. Lloyd stood up. She shook her head and bellowed, making the rope whip around. By a stroke of good luck he caught the end and pulled it under the gate.

As the alley narrowed, barricade posts set inside the high fence guided the cattle into the loading chute. He wound the rope around one and tugged, testing its strength. Charlene was big and this post wasn’t built to withstand that kind of weight. Lloyd wrapped the rope around again.

“If this cow kills me, I’ll sue you,” the driver said from the other side of the fence.

“I don’t think you’re the one she’s looking to kill.”

The assistant climbed over from the corral and landed beside his boss. He looked at Lloyd.

“You okay? Did she break anything?”

“No, I’m good. Do me a favor. Be ready to shut that trailer, fast.”

“What?”

Lloyd unchained the gate and moved to the far side of the alley. He glanced at the kid.

“Ready?”

The assistant ran to the trailer. Lloyd tightened the rope around the post, lashed it around his hand for good measure, and unlatched the second gate. He moved to the other side of the alley, parallel to the barrier post, and kicked the gate open, making it crash against the fence. This time the noise didn’t spook Charlene. She was too focused on Lloyd to care.

He stood there and let her charge. The barrier post served as a pivot point, creating a zig-zag that shortened the rope. Charlene was just a few feet away when she ran out of length and was swung around by the force of her own momentum. She stumbled into the loading chute and Lloyd shoved the metal panel into place behind her. He climbed up the fence and pulled the rope off her horns. When it was off, he whistled. She bolted in the only direction she could, straight into the trailer. The kid slammed the door shut.

Jane was waiting by the gate, exactly where she’d run after he’d jumped off. Lloyd led her out of the corral around to the cattle truck. The assistant watched him secure his rope to the saddle with obvious interest.

“Do you rodeo, sir?”

“Nope, never have.”

The kid’s expression was disbelieving. “Why?”

“My father preferred to train and sell horses instead of competing with them.”

“You could’ve made a killing at jackpot ropings!”

Lloyd chuckled, amused by the kid’s enthusiasm.

The driver scowled. “We’re behind schedule.”

“That’s the pleasure of working with animals,” Lloyd said.

“I’m charging you for the delay. You should’ve shot this one, she’s going to kill somebody.”

“She’ll be fine once you unload her. Do you have everything you need?”

The kid answered. “We just need your signature.”

The driver fetched the paperwork while Lloyd fielded the kid’s roping questions. It surprised him to find he enjoyed giving the advice.

When the livestock haulers were off, he walked Jane to the barn.

“You earned some oats for not breaking my neck,” Lloyd said.

Jane snorted and picked up her pace.

In front of the barn, he noticed marks in the dirt. He looped Jane’s reins through a hitching ring without bothering to secure them and crouched to study the boot prints. The mixture of clay and loam soil held its shape well, and the sun had baked the dirt into a detailed cast. He’d found similar impressions on Tuesday morning which had motivated him to spend the next few days herding cattle on the outskirts of the ranch.

The sneaky, unwanted visitor didn’t surprise him.

Settling the ranch’s affairs was his duty. Dealing with his father’s illegal side business wasn’t. He’d be insane to get involved in a drug running operation and risk a second strike on his record.

Lloyd studied the print. He knew it wasn’t from him. The first thing he’d done when he’d arrived was dig out his cowboy boots and start cleaning the barn. His boots were leather soled, designed to slide easily in and out of stirrups. They left a distinct heel and triangular forefoot print. The visitor’s boots had a tread pattern that was usually found on rubber soles. Whoever wore these shoes spent his days on city streets, not on a ranch. A sinking feeling settled in his chest. He had a strong hunch about the visitor’s identity, but hoped he was wrong. Lloyd dusted off his jeans, and went to untack Jane. He placed the saddle and blanket over the door of an empty stall.

He glanced toward the tack room and his stomach clenched. Inhaling sharply, he turned away.

After Jane was settled with a bale of grass hay and a bucket of oats, he walked to the small pen where a sick calf was bedded down in the straw. His eyes and nose were running with thick green mucus that left no doubt infection had taken hold. Lloyd checked his water. It hadn’t been touched.

“Whatever bug you’re fighting might not kill you, but dehydration sure will.”

The calf wheezed.

Lloyd shook his head. “You need a vet.”

His ears twitched at the words, but he didn’t raise his head. After changing the calf’s water Lloyd went to the house and used the landline to call Anderson’s Feed Store.

Henry Anderson picked up on the first ring. Of course, he not only knew the local vet, but promised he’d have them swing by around six. Then he started firing off questions with the zeal of a Spanish Inquisitor. How was college? Did he like Harvard, or did he wish he’d gone to Notre Dame? What had he enjoyed about England? How much did it rain over there? Did he know Coach Olsen had hung a framed picture of him receiving the Bushnell Cup in the gym lobby?

Lloyd sat down at the kitchen table and answered the inquiries. He noticed when Mr. Anderson skipped over questions about his post-college years and fast forwarded to current events. The effortless way he sidestepped the uncomfortable subject squeezed Lloyd’s heart. His unseemly history didn’t warrant such a tactful maneuver and because of it, Henry’s easy grace hit him like a three hundred pound linebacker.

“I knew that determination would take you places. I haven’t employed another highschool kid for four years straight since you.”

At that time, he’d done his best to stay out of Joe’s way which meant the long hours at Henry’s store were a perk. Later, their fully stocked breakroom fridge had allowed him to avoid going home for days at a time.

“How’s April doing?”

He finally asked about the topic he’d been expecting would come up, but hadn’t.

“She’s doing well. Married a boy from Portland and now we’ve got four grandchildren. The oldest is a senior this fall, and the middle one starts seventh grade. The second youngest is in kindergarten and the baby turns two in a month.”

“Wow… that’s a range of ages.”

“The baby is her Mama’s spitting image. It took four tries, but her genes finally hit copy paste.”

Henry laughed at his own joke while Lloyd tried to imagine it.

“I’m sure you’ll catch up with her, but I’ve got to let you go. A load of grain just pulled in. The vet says they’ll be by after 5:30, probably closer to 6.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

He hung up and tried to wrap his head around the bombshell that April Anderson was married with four kids. He wondered why Henry had suggested they catch up. It seemed to imply she still lived in the area. Lloyd shook off the curiosity and grabbed the truck keys. He didn’t have time for a social call. Already, it was mid-afternoon and his errands in town couldn’t be put off any longer.

Lloyd paused at the door and reached into the side table drawer. As expected, his father’s loaded .22 Sig Sauer was inside, encased in a leather shoulder holster that held two extra magazines in a pocket on the right strap. Being a felon, he wasn’t legally allowed to carry a gun, let alone a concealed gun. He thought of the boot prints and his suspicions about the night-time visitor, then removed his denim shirt and slipped on the holster. He covered it with the shirt and checked his reflection. The loose garment and compact weapon rendered the bulge under his arm almost invisible. He put on his sunglasses and grabbed a baseball cap from the shelf.

It was just a quick trip to town. He’d be in and out before anyone knew he was there.

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

You tugged at your skirt, trying in vain to shield your bruised knees. Even with setting powder, the concealer hadn’t provided the coverage you’d hoped for.

Vivian stirred her yogurt and watched you from the corner of her eye. Your birthday dinner had gone better than expected. For dessert you’d taken the family out for frozen yogurt and, at your Mom’s suggestion, walked down to the park so Alyssa could run around. She’d behaved well at the restaurant, but after two hours of sitting, she was getting antsy.

With the efficiency of a general, Mom had taken charge of Sam and ordered Juan to mind Alyssa. She had sent you and Vivian off to ‘enjoy the peace and quiet,’ which was code for ‘go make up because I said so.’ From a shady bench you watched Mom encouraging Sam to walk through the splash pad spray. She was bent over, letting him hold both her hands for balance, uncaring of the mist soaking the lower half of her linen pants. Hector, Caleb, and Diego were kicking a soccer ball in the grass and Juan was hovering nearby, watching Alyssa play in the landscaping.

“What’s Alyssa doing?” you asked Vivian.

“Playing with rocks. I don’t know why, but if you give her a rock, she’ll look at it for hours.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

“What happened to your knees?” Vivian asked.

“I fell.”

“Were you drinking?”

“Vivian!”

“What, you’re not uncoordinated. Were you drinking?”

“No!”

“Well, I have to ask. You’ve been acting super weird lately,” she said.

That was true. You cringed under her scrutiny and decided to change the topic.

“I’m sorry, Vivian.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“My reaction to your pregnancy was uncalled for. I overstepped, and I’m sorry.”

“I dropped it on you like a ton of bricks, so there’s that. You don’t handle change well and I should’ve known to break the news gently.”

“Hey! I’m great with change.”

“Absolutely, you just roll with the punches.” Vivian snickered, and dissolved into giggles. Then her gaze shifted to your frozen yogurt. “Can I have a bite?”

You held out the cup. She sampled it and made a face.

“Yuck.”

“First you insult my adaptability, then my taste buds.”

“Speaking of taste, congratulations on the break up.”

It took you a second to realize what she meant. “When did I tell you about that?”

“You told Caleb, which is like telling the whole family.”

“Right.”

“Does your boss live in the Historic District of Alexandria? By those swanky townhouses?” Vivian asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

Her eyes gleamed. “Last night I checked your location on Life360. Guess where you were?”

Oh, crap…

“Why were you at your boss’s house at three a.m?”

“I’m house sitting,” you said.

“For three weeks? Bullshit.”

“Damn it, I’m going to delete that stupid app. I thought I already did-”

“I stole your phone and reinstalled it. Before you ask, yes, I check your location every night. Are you dating your boss?”

“He’s not my boss. Technically, Weston Tafferty is my supervisor.”

“Lloyd’s last name is Hansen, right?”

You frowned. “Did you Google him?”

“I really should apply to the FBI someday,” Vivian said, grinning.

“Listen, you can’t believe everything on the internet…”

She was already opening a website on her phone.

“Have you seen this?”

You braced yourself to explain Lloyd’s escapades, but it was an article from the Boston Globe sports section dated 26 October 2001. The headline read “Harvard Beats Penn, Cinches Ivy Title” and the photo underneath showed a group of sweaty men in tight white pants and hulking shoulder pads. Lloyd was in the middle. He’d taken his helmet off, revealing a clean shaven jaw and hair three shades lighter than it was now, but there was no mistaking that bone structure.

“Look at that man. He is fine,” Vivian drew the middle vowel of ‘fine’ into a throaty purr.

“It’s not like that, I’m-”

“You’re sleeping with him, just spill.”

You groaned and covered your face.

“Y/N, please? It’s just us. And unlike Caleb, I can keep a secret. I can keep all the secrets, so tell me everything.”

Your sister was absolutely reliable as a confidant, but your relationship with Lloyd was so new and undefined. Then again, maybe you could use some outside perspective on the matter. It would probably go a long way toward repairing the rift between you.

“Okay. So, Aiden ended things-”

“Shut up! He broke up with you?!”

Her outrage was a delight. “Unfortunately. Lloyd took me out for dinner and you’ll never guess what happened then…”

By the time you left the park, dusk was falling. Talking to Vivian had settled your mind about the crazy twist your relationship with Lloyd had taken and confirmed that you were enjoying the new status quo, as tenuous as it might be.

There was a flier stuck under your windshield wiper. Assuming it was an advertisement, you grabbed it, slid behind the wheel and turned on the air conditioner, then unfolded the page. Breath froze in your lungs and your heart dropped like a stone as blood drained from your face so fast your vision blurred.

It was a photo of you and Vivian on the park bench. You scanned it for clues, trying to decipher the angle it had been taken from and realized the photographer must have been on the other side of the splash pad from where you’d been sitting. A shiver ran down your spine. You scanned the street, with its long shadows and fluorescent lamps. Aiden could be anywhere. Fragments of the messages he’d sent flashed through your mind, raising goosebumps on your arms. Your hands clenched into fists. This was no way to live. You couldn’t tolerate it.

Trying to calm your racing heart, you took several deep breaths. After the pressure eased in your chest and you felt clear-headed again, you evaluated your options. There was the obvious choice - contact Detective Diskant at metro and give him the photo. But hadn’t you already done that? Aiden had responded by stepping up his game. Not only had he followed you, he’d followed your family and been bold enough to leave behind photographic evidence of the act.

The message was clear: I’m watching, and you can’t stop me.

Reporting him had made things worse. You threw the car into reverse; it was time to show Aiden who he was dealing with.

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

His errands took longer than expected.

The health district office was slammed, and he’d waited more than an hour for copies of his father’s death certificate. Paying property taxes in person was a bureaucratic nightmare, and so was settling the funeral home bill. His last stop was the priest, and he’d cut that visit short. To make sure they wouldn’t cancel Joe’s service because of his rudeness, he’d added a zero to his donation. With one eye on the clock, he made the final turn towards home. The clock ticked off another minute. Not wanting to miss the vet, he sped up.

Sirens wailed.

Lloyd hissed. He hadn’t risked speeding on the interstate after spotting the black and white vehicle tailing him, but he’d thought he had shaken them miles ago. Red and blue flashing lights followed him to the edge of the road as he pulled over.

Great. What a fantastic ending to an afternoon filled with unpleasant errands. He’d handed over a small fortune to the county and fucking donated to an organization that owned more land than Bill Gates. Like an ice cream sundae wouldn’t be complete without the cherry on top, this miserable day couldn’t be finished with anything less than a traffic stop.

He parked a few meters from the ranch’s front gate. The police truck didn’t pull in behind him; instead, it maneuvered around and turned into his driveway. It swung to the right and reversed into a parallel park, blocking the road.

The side decal on the pickup read ‘SHERIFF’ in bold print.

Lloyd watched the driver climb out. Even at a distance, he recognized the well-built man thanks to the distinctive outline of his Montana crease cowboy hat. This one was pecan colored instead of gray. It matched the tan uniform better than his old one, Lloyd noted.

He rolled down the window and propped his elbow on the ledge to hide the holster under his arm.

“Evening, Sheriff. Was I speeding?”

“License and registration.”

Lloyd took his time finding the papers and handed them over, one by one.

“You’re looking well, Holbrook. It’s like you haven’t aged a day.”

The jab made the Sheriff’s upper lip curl, but he didn’t bat an eye as he examined the papers. Charles Holbrook was his senior by twelve years, though the way he wore those years made it look like twenty. His bulky aviators didn’t cover the wrinkles around his eyes and what Lloyd could see of his hair had gone gray.

Holbrook tilted his hat back.

“Where were you headed in such a hurry, son?”

“I’ve got a sick calf and the vet’s due any minute.”

The Sheriff looked to the passenger seat where the file of tax papers lay.

“What’s in the folder?”

“If you’ve got a warrant you can look, but if not…”

“Where are you coming back from?”

“Town.”

Holbrook ran his tongue around his teeth. “You sure about that? Just town? Nowhere else?”

It seemed his instinct about being followed had been correct. He wished he hadn’t slipped their tail earlier, because it had given them the chance to set up this speed trap.

Lloyd shrugged. “I’m just trying to get home and take care of my animals, Sheriff.”

Knowing who he was dealing with helped Lloyd keep his temper in check. Thirty years ago, when he’d been a young deputy, Charles Holbrook had joined Joe’s drug running operation. Harsher sentencing guidelines made his father cautious enough to find an insurance policy and Holbrook fit the bill. He proved himself effective and ambitious, which was why Lloyd hadn’t been surprised to hear they’d had a falling out after he’d left for college. Rumor was, the Sheriff and Joe had spent the past twenty years at war, fighting over control of the intermountain west drug trade.

Holbrook grasped the butt of his gun. Lloyd tensed, then a blur of action drew his attention. The passenger door of the police truck flew open. A young man in a deputy’s uniform burst out with a pump action rifle.

Shit.

The .22 under his arm wouldn’t be any defense if the deputy was a good shot and given that Holbrook was nobody’s fool, especially in these matters… carrying illegally had been a colossal mistake. The tiniest infarction would be an excuse to throw him in jail. Lloyd’s jaw clenched as he appreciated that in this scenario, Holbrook’s definition of “jail” would mean “the bottom of Redfish Lake.”

“Watch your back, Lloyd. You know the rules in these parts.”

Rage bubbled in his chest at the threat. His nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath, struggling against the urge to fight. The Sheriff smirked.

“It’d be a shame if there were two Hansen funerals this week, Lloyd. Don’t do anything stupid. We need to have a serious chat about-”

Holbrook cut off at the sound of gravel crunching behind them. Lloyd saw another vehicle had pulled up behind his truck and scowled. He couldn’t decide if he should be amused or annoyed that he warranted backup. This was a run of the mill shake down, not… Damn it. His gaze swung to the rearview mirror. The white pickup had boxed him in. With the sheriff on his left, the deputy in front of him, and the newcomer behind, he was trapped.

It was a straight shot through the windshield with the pump action rifle. Lloyd figured he could shoot Holbrook and take cover behind the engine block, but that left him vulnerable to the occupant of the white pickup. By the time he got off a shot he’d have six rounds in his back.

“Luke! Put that away!”

Holbrook straightened up and faced the new arrival.

Lloyd didn’t blink, eyes tracking the deputy’s every move, while he complied with the request. His attention stayed on the rifle until it was out of sight. Only then did his attention return to the Sheriff, who wore a welcoming smile for the approaching woman. She wore a navy baseball cap, plaid button down, and Levi’s tucked into cowboy boots. There was something familiar about her that tickled the edge of his memory.

“Dr. Ward! Haven’t I told you it’s not wise to interrupt police business?”

Holbrook’s tone was the same one used to discipline golden retrievers - exasperated, but indulgent.

“Well, Sheriff, this time it’s you interrupting my business. I’ve got a sick calf to see and you’re blocking the road.”

She nodded at the police truck, and when she turned her head, he spotted the auburn ponytail. Lloyd’s jaw dropped.

“April? April Anderson?”

“It’s Ward now,” she said, grinning. “Dad mentioned you had an emergency, but this isn’t the kind of emergency I expected.”

“Nah, no emergency here. Sheriff Holbrook was letting me off with a warning.”

“That’s sweet of you, Sheriff. Do you mind clearing the road?”

Holbrook’s lips twisted into a sour pucker, but he touched two fingers to the brim of his hat and nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

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

You sat in your car, gripping the steering wheel tight.

Just being parked on this street felt dangerous. Despite the risk, anger was more powerful than logic in your current frame of mind. You hung onto that fury. If the past few days had taught you anything, it was that living in fear wasn’t sustainable. Rage felt like a suitable alternative - it was certainly more pleasant than terror.

Thoughts of rage turned your mind to Lloyd. If he knew about your situation, he’d be apocalyptic. He’d protected you in Singapore with no consideration for himself and that recklessness worried you. If he flew off the handle there was a decent chance he’d end up facing a second round of felony charges. The prospect of Lloyd being sent to jail because of your mistakes was untenable. You needed to handle Aiden yourself.

From the spot you’d parked, on the opposite side of the street to Aiden’s house, you had a perfect view into the living room. He was inside and based on what you’d seen in the last thirty minutes, he was alone. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and imagined you were Lloyd. You thought of the irritable man who’d stormed into the paralegal office and invaded your life. The image filled your mind, thrilling and comforting in equal measure. You remembered the boisterous, almost wild energy that version of Lloyd had carried into a room.

Thinking of his confidence helped ease the tug of caution that insisted you’d be safer turning around and driving back to Virginia. You twisted your neck, warming up the muscles and taking deep, steady breaths. In less than a minute, your shoulders relaxed and your jaw unclenched as the last clouds of doubt rolled away.

Moving with purpose, you stepped out of the car and stalked across the street toward the two-story brick colonial with an immaculate front lawn. Your heart was hammering, but the fear was buried under a thick fog of anger. You were going to demolish Aiden.

You rang the bell and waited. The door opened and Aiden looked irritated to see you. The sight of him made your lip curl into a snarl.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

You shoved the photo in his face.

“This, Aiden. I’m talking about this!”

“Huh?”

“I found it on the hood of my car an hour ago. You took this picture and left it to threaten me.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Don’t lie.”

Aiden scoffed. “You’re crazy. It’s just a picture.”

“You’re harassing me. You’ve been texting me, stalking my building, and trying to make me uncomfortable. Well, guess what? I’ve already forwarded the texts to your father and filed a complaint with the police. Even with all that, you don’t seem to be getting the message, so here it is. Stop. Bothering. Me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, Aiden. If you make my life hell, I’ll be happy to return the favor - in triplicate.”

“You’re a drama queen, you know that, right? I’m not the one who came to your house. You should be glad I’m giving you the time of day - it’s not like you’d do the same.”

“I know you sent the texts. You’re taking your problems out on me, and if you keep doing it, you’ll find out that I punch back. Stay away from me. Stay away from my family. This is the last time I’ll say it - next time you find out I mean what I say.”

He crossed his arms, straightening. “You should watch your mouth, bitch.”

“And you should watch your back. You’re going to leave me alone. If you don't, I’ll put you in a world of hurt.”

“See if I care.”

“You should. Because if you don’t, I’ll give you a reason to.”

“Whatever.”

You raised your chin.

“I don’t need you to believe me. Because whether or not you think I’m serious, I am. This is me giving you the chance to turn things around. Go very far away from me and stay there. If you don’t, you have no one to blame but yourself for what happens next.”

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

The calf ended up with a prescription for long-term antibiotics, and he persuaded April to have a beer with him. He couldn’t help but stare as they sat on opposite sides of the small kitchen table. She broke the silence first.

“Nice mustache. It ages you, but somehow it suits you.”

“Thanks. I can’t believe you’re still here. I figured some city boy would sweep you off your feet and take you to Seattle or Boise.”

“He did, but I took him home instead of the other way around.”

“I guess your taste in men improved after high school,” Lloyd teased.

“Given my starting point, it couldn’t have gotten much worse.”

He laughed. “After Tyler, I was a step up.”

Tyler Claffey had been April’s first boyfriend. He played defensive tackle to Lloyd’s quarterback and they’d been on the same team since fifth grade. Their hatred of each other ran deeper than the traditional offense vs. defense rivalry every football team suffered. Tyler still held the distinction of being the most insecure person Lloyd had ever known. For his part, Tyler hated Lloyd’s sullen disposition, lack of regard for other people’s opinions, and most of all, for being a superior athlete.

When he was caught cheating on her the week before junior prom, April had asked Lloyd to be her date. He knew the goal was to twist the knife in Tyler’s side and had accepted the invitation. They went to prom together and ended up dating until graduation.

“Tell me about your husband,” Lloyd said.

“Michael. We met in college, but didn’t date until after. He’s a lawyer.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Is he tall, dark, and handsome… with a mustache?”

April snorted. “No, no, yes, and absolutely not. I know you aren’t married, because no woman would tolerate that facial hair. You should grow a beard.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t mind it.”

Lloyd felt a ripple of concern at how naturally the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off his tongue, but pushed it aside. He considered April - the first and last woman to hold that title - and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you stuck around.”

“I didn’t hate it here, you did.”

“I had to get away. You know why.”

April nodded. She picked at the label on her drink and lowered her voice.

“How did you feel, when they told you he was dead?”

“Shocked, disbelieving. More of the latter, to be honest. The hospital called and explained but I just… I thought he couldn’t die.”

“Are you okay, being back? Like, here, in this house?”

Lloyd shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Have you been in touch with your family?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m it.”

April raised an eyebrow. “Your sisters?”

He looked away.

“You never searched for them? After all these years? I…” she broke off. “Lloyd? Did something happen to them?”

“I can’t say for sure. I didn’t look them up because I knew what I’d find.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mother couldn’t take care of them. Even back then, I knew.”

“She left the summer before fifth grade, right?”

“Yeah. My father was away, it was just me and the girls. The house was peaceful. That’s what I remember most about those last days.”

April’s brow creased in confusion, so he explained.

“She didn’t have any of her normal outbursts, episodes, whatever you’d call them. Looking back, she must have started on some kind of antipsychotic meds. A few days before Dad returned I woke up to an empty house.”

He looked out at the barnyard and saw it as it was thirty years ago. Almost exactly thirty years to the day, he realized with a jolt.

“Her car was gone. Josephine’s closet was empty and so was Ingrid’s. Only some of my mother’s things had been taken, but when I saw the suitcases were missing, I knew they weren’t coming back.”

“I’m sorry,” April whispered.

She reached across the table and covered his hand. Lloyd folded his fingers around hers.

“I hate remembering. I can’t go through the barn without thinking of Ingrid and that evil little Shetland who bit everyone. I taught her to saddle him, but I think I put on his bridle every time she wanted to ride.”

“Clever girl.”

Lloyd smiled. “She’d hunt for arrowheads with me. Josie used to go with us because if we didn’t take her, she’d cry and that would set Mom off. She liked to collect flowers and press them in parchment. The first night here, I went into her room and…”

Emotion choked him. A piece of wax paper had fallen from the pages of one of her story books. It was a bright, cheerful Black-eyed Susan. He’d stood there staring at it, as if it were a rattlesnake.

Lloyd shuddered.

“My mother may as well have driven them off a cliff, instead of off the ranch. I never looked them up… not knowing is easier.”

April squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“When I was in prison, the psychiatrist asked me if I’d ever felt love. The question made me furious. I couldn’t believe he’d think me incapable of such a basic emotion, but then I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt love - no offense -”

“None taken.”

“I knew my reaction was genuine, but until Monday night when I saw the rocking chair, I couldn’t figure out where it had come from.”

Their eyes drifted to the pine rocker by the front window.

“That’s where they let me hold Josie for the first time.”

April squeezed his hand. “Is your girlfriend coming for the funeral? I’d love to meet her.”

“No. I didn’t want her to see me like this.”

Lloyd turned his hand, bringing hers to rest on top, and studied the impressive diamond ring on her left finger.

“Nice rock.”

“It spends most of its time on a chain around my neck. That’s what he gets for marrying a vet.”

He used his thumb to turn the ring left and right, admiring the way it caught the light.

“I knew we wouldn’t last, but I loved you, April.”

“Not really. We were good friends, Lloyd. But it didn’t run deeper than that on either side and you were turning bitter.”

She paused, eyeing him curiously as her tongue traced the edge of her upper teeth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What happened between you and Coach Olsen?”

Lloyd slipped his hand free at the naming of his former football coach. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s been decades and I’m still curious.”

“Olsen took bribes. USC paid him to make sure I didn’t sign with Harvard.”

“But you liked Harvard the most.”

“He was stringing them along, making it sound like I hadn’t decided so the money kept flowing. Obviously, that’s not kosher with the NCAA.”

“He put your scholarship at risk. I understand why you cut ties.”

His lips twisted.

“It was more than that. I got a call from USC in July, which was odd because I’d already committed to Harvard. Their rep let it slip about Olsen. I was livid. Mind meltingly furious, unlike anything I’d felt before.”

The memory made his stomach pitch. Something visceral had come over him and he’d felt his mind loosen, allowing the monster to emerge. The dam holding back years of rage burst and nothing could stem the tide.

“I’d worried I was like Joe, but until that night I wasn’t sure. Whatever had held me in check snapped. I don’t remember the drive into town, just walking across the field and seeing lights on in the shed. Olsen was in the office, working. The football shed wasn’t air conditioned back then, so the garage door was open.”

The scene played behind his eyes, undistorted by time. He saw the white cinder block shed and felt the thrill of finding his prey. Later, that feeling had become an addiction, better than cocaine and longer lasting than ecstasy.

“I snuck under the garage door into the storage area. They’d brought in the baseball equipment and there was a rack of bats beside the door. On my way through, I grabbed one. He turned when I stepped into the office and started to speak. I swung for his head but he ducked, so I only clipped him. He rushed me, and I struck his right knee, got him on the ground, and then…”

He remembered it in flashes. The sound of bones crunching, screams, then agonized cries.

When he’d snapped out of the trance there were blisters on his palms.

“I thought I’d killed him. That’s why I left for college a month early. When the team went to state a few years later, I read he was still their coach. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.”

April stared at him. “That was you?! We thought there was a psychopath running around town!”

“There was.”

“I don’t agree with everything you did, but your reaction was understandable.”

“The only thing I regret is not saying goodbye to you.”

“I figured you wanted a clean break. Once I accepted it was what you needed, I got over it. But I worried about you. I figured we’d stay in touch, you know?”

He hadn’t wanted anyone too close to him, not after realizing what he was capable of. If he was a monster then the safest place for April was far away from him. Hence, why she remained his first and last girlfriend.

“Speaking of the past…” April frowned. “Have you spoken to Elliot lately?”

Lloyd’s eyebrows rose. “Elliot? No.”

The mention of his cousin surprised him.

Elliot Hansen was the illegitimate son of his father’s sister and some drug dealer from Boise. The drug dealer had vanished upon learning of the pregnancy and two years later, his aunt committed suicide, orphaning her young son. Joe refused to acknowledge him and Elliot became a ward of the state. Like his parents, Elliot got hooked on drugs early and by the end of highschool, he’d been a certified junkie.

“He went to rehab and was working down in Nevada. When your father took a turn for the worse, he came back to help. For the past few months he’s been on Sheriff Holbrook’s list.”

“Is he on drugs again?”

“No. I knew Holbrook was shaking you down when I saw the traffic stop because he did the same thing to Elliot.”

“Which earned you a warning to stay out of police business,” Lloyd said.

“I pay my taxes, I have the right to be nosy.”

“Damn it, April. I told you Holbrook was dangerous. Why would you put yourself in his line of fire for that lowlife?”

Her glare was withering. “He kicked meth without anyone’s help and re-built his life from nothing. Don’t call him names.”

“Fine.” Lloyd held up his hands. “No name calling. Please, continue.”

“I caught the end of their argument. There was something about the ranch and ‘mercury’ but I couldn’t hear anything more.”

“Did you ask Elliot about it?”

She shook her head. “No, because I haven’t seen Elliot in two weeks. I’m worried about him, Lloyd. I think something’s happened to him.”

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

Next - Part XIV

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hwaightme · 2 years

Text

Family for Hire (Ch3.5)

(family for hire ml) -> blurb and general tags in series ml

☀️ pairing: single dad!seonghwa x business woman!reader ☀️ genre: romance, family, domestic, fake marriage, slice of life ☀️ ch. summary: adult to adult conversation should be easy, except when it is with someone who you are definitely not indifferent about, and who you had just spent a family-style day with. what will a conversation under the stars bring? ☀️ ch. wordcount: 5.3k ☀️ ch. warnings/tags: language, hwa being tactless, late night stargazing, banana milk hours, some mysterious texts, implied past family issues, fears, children, mixed up feelings, lmk if anything else! ☀️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo ☀️ series taglist: @yunnierights @moniesmoon @jackinmyarea @hwalysm @sankatchu @hijeongguk @likexaxdaydream @treasure-hwa @paralumanniluna @naiify @dementedaly @lilactangerine @ameliaag1117 ☀️ a/n: Hello there! big hugs and much love, hope you enjoy this chapter~ (p.s.: who else will never recover after the hwa madrid live? xD)

Chapter 3.5: Starting Something

After dinner, much of the time was spent with you three chatting away, until Nari, who was sat between you on the couch had begun to doze off and knock either into your or Seonghwa’s side. As soon as he disappeared up the stairs, with a sleepy Nari who was clinging onto his neck in his arms, you fished a long-forgotten phone out of your pocket. You saw that you had a few texts from Yunho, which clearly showed his progression from worry to 'don't have too much fun' with a series of wink emojis, making you roll your eyes. If only he knew what kind of a battlefield being in a closed space with a toddler was - even when said child's parent was the most attentive being you swore you had ever met and the little girl turned out to be infinitely precious - unpredictable and blunt, but still a wonder.

In addition to the cheeky messages, there were of course the classic out of hours work emails, which you, on any other day, would have probably gotten to answering that instant, but it did not feel right to do. Some strange desire to be respectful of family hours that were not even yours had overtaken you, and with a swipe, you removed the notifications. Stock markets were not going to crash if you were to delay responding to a basic question about plugging in random numbers into a spreadsheet until they looked right - may the internet be ever in their favour. What had caught your attention was something else entirely. An excited, friendly greeting, followed by a rather odd request - you would not put it beyond the author of the message to be rather bold on his asks, but considering your present plans, it was less than welcome.

>> heeyyyyy Y/nnnnn boss lady~~~ quick q, can I give your number to someone??? They're cool I promise :))))

You narrowed your eyes, rereading the notification. It would not hurt to have another networking opportunity, right? Wooyoung had never provided you with a faulty connection before, with some even having led to obtaining a new loyal client for the company, and others, like a certain Choi San, having become a reliable source of information, both in business, and in socials. But there was something almost unnatural about how he had approached the matter. First of all, he asked for your permission to send your contact, which is something that he had never done before, and you had never expected him to. Second of all, what was the promise for? Was it necessary? Since when was coolness a measure of influence that one had if all that was to come out of your communications was a new to connection on a professional site? A deep frown had etched itself onto your face as you took a screenshot of the message to send to Yunho for evaluation. An uncomfortable fuzziness occupied your head, and you could not help but want to stop thinking altogether. At least about people.

"Hey, Nari's all tucked in and dozing off... so... oh sorry, am I-" Seonghwa froze in the middle of the living room, which still bore a couple of signs of playtime chaos. He had wanted to take a seat beside you at the kitchen island that served to separate the two conjoined zones of the house’s base floor but refrained once he saw you glowering at the screen of your phone.

"No, no, I am just, uh, you know how compliance people are, email after email from them and nothing concrete." You were quick to brush off the suspicious message, wanting to feel confident that it was nothing important and was just Wooyoung being Wooyoung ‘in the best way possible’, also known as him having the spirit, but going about making good things happen in a very roundabout way. The last thing you could possibly wish for at this fragile moment at the beginning of your grand scheme was any kind of social disturbance.

“Here’s to you saying you wanted to do that back in first year!” Seonghwa chuckled and made a cheers motion with his hand in the air, manoeuvring around you to head into the kitchen.

“Yep… and now I am arguing with them basically every week, they really should learn to elaborate and explain…” you commented vaguely, choosing to not spend any longer on the peculiar message, closing the matter by tapping out a question mark and sending it to Wooyoung, followed by your trusty switch to ‘do not disturb’. You would rather have your attention on the dark-haired man next to you, who was currently appearing to look for Narnia inside of the refrigerator.

“And not email you on the weekends. That’s a crime. Milk?” he agreed and reappeared with two familiar plastic bottles, one in either hand.

“You have banana milk?” the surprise on your face was evidently clear enough for Seonghwa to be entertained, as he was motivated to continue.

“You know it. This is how dads get lit, I’ll have you know.”

“Wild and absolutely radical. How do you live like that?”

“Live fast. Here,” he passed the drink to you, pointing out the attached straw, “let’s go on the front porch, the neighbourhood is really nice at night.”

He was not lying about it being ‘nice’ - the term appearing to be a Park family favourite. In fact, it was much more than that. Perhaps picturesque or idyllic would be the right word. Sleepy houses under a blanket of a deep navy blanket, decorated with bright glittering stars, and not a cloud to remove the illusion of it being endless. Seonghwa had insisted that you wore your blazer again, while he had tugged on a zip up hoodie, insisting that this was so you would not get cold and scolding you when you initially had said that ‘it was no big deal'. Though now, you could not be more grateful for the well-meaning nagging as the chilly evening breeze caressed exposed skin, and you pulled the piece of clothing tighter around you.

When was the last time you and Seonghwa had shared a moment, any moment, alone together? Oh, that was right. You bit your lower lip, accidentally having retraced your memories. Now that you were more or less aware of his side of the story with regards to the confession, and it was easy enough to process; the opportunity was there to forget one entry in the series of misfortunes. However, prior to this final cry, there had been a build-up of occurrences in your life that had led you to grow more desperate, and, whilst you hated to admit it due to your work-pride you had cultivated, grow lonelier. And this build up was not something you would be capable of neither erasing, nor revealing any time soon. In hindsight, Seonghwa’s rejection could had been a better choice for the past you, too.

At least now, with a steadier foot on the ground as both of you began to walk your paths, you were able to enjoy their crossing. And now, as you were peering out beyond the refurbished fence gate and well taken care of greenery, you caught yourself wishing that your experiences and the years of being strangers would not weigh down so heavily on you. You had an inkling that perhaps that was why you could only register today as a billow of emotion – challenge, after challenge, and generally, not something you pondered at all. At best you thought you would just shake hands with Seonghwa, agree on terms and conditions, and be done with it. But here he was, welcoming you into his space, his life.

“This is all… a little crazy, isn’t it?” the question was a natural conclusion to your internal blur, which you physically accentuated with a particularly sharp stab of the milk’s metal film that served as a lid.

“I’ll be honest, for me this is the first ‘crazy' in a long time that isn’t about getting shots, bed times, or proving to strangers that no, I am not ‘some dude’, I am actually Nari’s father. So, if you were wondering why I even agreed in the first place... I guess part of it is that."

Seonghwa informed and lowered himself to occupy the space beside you. 'Part of it', huh. Keeping his secrets, then. The lamp above you flickered a couple of times, though upon closer inspection, with you tilting your head back and resting on your free hand, it was a small group of moths dancing around the illumination. As soon as your partner sat down, you reached out and offered to clink bottles, which he readily accepted with a shy smile.

“Wait, they do that?” after taking a sip through the tiny straw, you inquired. Seonghwa squinted, confused as to what part of the discussion you were referring to.

“What?”

“Like, strangers… asking you-”

“Ah, yeah. It has happened a couple of times. Not so much around the neighbourhood, since people know my daughter and I, but outside…” he trailed off, not knowing whether you would be interested to hear about his experience. Since you had proposed this family deal in a more business manner, he was not sure where that ended and relations that were too personal began.

“…outside?” you urged him on, eyebrows knitted, and concern growing clearer on your face by the second.

“We went to a playground out in the centre once, by the Han river, and this one lady with a pram and a kid, about Nari’s age, right by her side decided that it would be a good idea to ask my own daughter: ‘is that really your dad?’.”

“No way…” you uttered, growing irritated at the well-meaning, but insensitive action, “Do people like that exist?”

“Yeah-”

“So, what did you answer?” you hoped that at least a sliver of university-Seonghwa had remained for that; alas, there was not a trace.

“I just left. Calmed down Nari and left.” he elaborated. What could have he done, anyways? He understood why the woman had been concerned, and it was not the question itself that had internally set him off, but the fact that she had approached his daughter to ask it.

“Fair, but I want to find that mother now and see how she is doing. Just want to talk.” you hissed, pinching some of the grain that had eroded away from the steps on which you were sitting, rolling it between your fingers before angrily flicking it away.

“Ominous.”

“Just talking.”

“You verbally throw hands, Y/N, that much I can remember.” he retorted, with an out of place fondness, not dissimilar to how one would look over a photo album and reminisce.

“Verbal cosmetic surgery, Hwa, it can be more than helpful sometimes. Though honestly she should go get her eyes checked instead if she can't see the likeness." You concluded, taking another sip and looking up at the starry night sky. Now this was something you could get used to, instead of the fine dust particles that slammed against your nearly always closed windows.

A warmth spread over Seonghwa as he listened to you. It was not the first time he had heard about Nari being a mini version of him, but the first time he wanted to ask for an elaboration. In addition to that, you had used his nickname, which he did not realise he had been missing hearing as much as he actually did. Not finding any reason to filter his amiability, he inquired into what you meant.

"What exactly?"

"Oh, come on, it's easier to say what isn't." You retorted, feeling Seonghwa's gaze on you.

"No, really."

You were not sure why exactly he was so bent on hearing you list off random features that had stood out to you but were too tired to resist what probably was just standard father behaviour.

"Well, there's the eyes, of course." You began, imagining the two faces as if they were drawings set out in front of you.

"No way." He intentionally disagreed, biting back a cheeky grin as he saw you scowl and raise an eyebrow, still trained on something invisible ahead of you.

"Yes way!"

"How can you say when you're not even looking at me?"

"How can I say when Nari is in bed, asleep?" You shot back, finally turning to face him, almost gasping because of the intensity with which the man was openly gawking at you. The movement, however, appeared to break his boldness as he lowered his head and glanced at his Crocs - as he had explained, they were the most effective footwear to put on if one needed to pop out of the house for a short while, but you were sold when you saw the Star Wars themed decorations on both pairs which he had presented. So very Seonghwa - some things did remain.

"Fair point... but still, for reference." Barely a mumble reached your ears, but you preferred it, for the sake of your own heart. It did not overpower your strict convictions by volume.

"Right then, mister hypocrisy, the side profile of your singular sensory organ that is reactive to visible light, and your daughter's looks pretty similar if I do say so myself." You deadpanned, listing off what little you could remember from secondary school biology.

Seonghwa nearly choked on his milk, making it bubble as he snorted in response to your unexpected observation. Your hand instinctively moved to pat his back but retracted as he raised his own to show he was alright. Quickly enough the cough was replaced by a chuckle, utterly confusing you.

"Don't mean to be that person, but what's so funny?"

"Ahem, just thought of something totally tactless, don't mind me." He elaborated, mumbling.

"Okay impress me."

"No, no, it's fine."

"If it's a dad joke, I'll just give you an imaginary gold star.”

"Seems, I," he lightly punched his chest a couple of times to get the last of the fit out, "lose my breath around you." You erupted into a loud groan and demonstrative rolling of the eyes, secretly loving the phrase, and how Seonghwa's ears burned up into a bright pink.

"Damn, thanks for the warning, otherwise I would have lost my breath."

You did not think much about what you had said, considering the sentence to be innocent enough and far removed from emotional involvement, however it appeared that Seonghwa was on a roll, or lacking in oxygen as he followed up with a total breach of reason, forcing you to put physical effort into restraining yourself from destroying the plastic bottle with an untimely hand crush.

"Lost mouth to mouth opportunity...”

"NOW MISTER PARK SEONGHWA THAT IS ILLEGAL." You squeaked, unsure of how to handle Seonghwa suddenly leaning closer to you, looking you up and down asking:

"What, conflict of interest for our little business deal?"

You were lost for words, so automatically fell back on highly effective defence tactics:

"What if someone was saying that to your daughter, hm?"

Whatever he wanted to say was lost to his dominating creativity. You observed his expression turn sour as he visualized the scene, but with Nari in the starring role. A good dad, through and through, after all.

He need not explain himself, though to reassure Seonghwa that you meant well and this was lighthearted, you gave him a quick squeeze on his lower arm. In acceptance, he covered your hand with his, keeping it there for as long as he could. It was still a challenge to process that what was happening was real, and not a vivid dream. The day was a journey through time, making him realise just how much his life had changed and took a radically different turn compared to his peers. In all honesty, he had never expected to have any ability to return even a tiny fraction of that reality, and chose to assume that with his new role as a father, he had no right to reminisce. Especially at the beginning, that was almost true - he had no time to think, let alone take steps into the past. But now, when his regrets of his past had transformed into his present opportunities, Seonghwa felt like something in him had woken up after an impossibly long hibernation. If only every tomorrow that was to come, were to be like this.

"Ahem, okay, okay. So, uh, you said eyes? What else?" He tried to return to the previous conversation, and thankfully, you were equally as eager to move on from the unexpected moment of toeing a line that had been drawn by the years and uncertainty.

"There's the nose shape... at least the baby version of it if you get what I mean."

"Definitely would be strange to have an adult nose on a kid's face, yes." Seonghwa agreed, tapping his nose a couple of times for emphasis.

"I am glad we are on the same page there."

"And, what else?"

"Eyebrows for days, oh! And your smiles. Congratulations to her for winning the genetic lottery." You wondered whether the phrase was too much, but Seonghwa's proud grin dissipated your concerns.

"I'll save that for when she is a teen so I can remind her. "

"Oh yeah... that's going to be a thing..." you mused out loud, failing to conceal a twinge of pity as you recalled your own adolescence: not particularly enjoyable for any parties involved.

"Yep. Barely out of the woods ourselves, huh?"

"Yeah... but I think you'll handle it. Of course, I don't have much data to go off, but my first impression is that you are... you are doing a good job, Hwa."

"Thanks... though, Y/N... can I be frank?"

"Yeah, Frank and Frederick and Ferdinand." Mainly for the sake of lightening the mood, you threw out the random garble.

"I am winging it so hard it is unbelievable. And unacceptable."

A regular occurrence for everyone - for as long as one is alive, they continue to learn, absorb the world and patterns around them until they create what is called an identity, and then keep growing the embellishments. Simultaneously, Seonghwa sounded anxious, possibly wishing that he was a parenting pro from the get-go. As someone who had to reevaluate all priorities and step into a caring role, it was an unfortunate side effect of doing things objectively right, to feel as though the best, the real way to address one's kid's needs was always just out of reach.

"Same."

It was a struggle to fully relate, but that did not mean that you would stop trying, if at least for your own benefit. With all your might you tried to conjure an analogy, but the only thing to come close was standard perfectionism and religiously abiding by deadlines. Enough to say 'same'.

"Would have never guessed that was the case." Seonghwa, ever so supportive, despite the fact that you were, unknowingly making him regretful of his sudden career change.

You seemed to be doing well enough, and if the few years of intensive corporate grind had not made your drive and opportunity-seeking nature fizzle out, then combining family and a better paid and degree-based job would not be a problem. Some kindergartens he had considered had extended hours on offer for kids of working parents, with pickup times being later after work; had he gone down that route, he would not be suffering the judgmental gazes of the other kids’ mothers who likely assumed the was an unemployed leech. Admittedly, he had felt a certain level of satisfaction when observing the stunned crowd as your very obviously expensive car rolled into the parking lot to pick up Nari from the activity centre, especially since many of the kids, and thus the parents, were connected to the same school.

He wondered how quickly would rumours spread, and could already imagine himself wearing a satisfied grin as he… technically he could not say anything, could he? Since this was all an elaborate plan and would be over at some point? Well then, he would just have to remain mysterious and let the gaggle come to their own interpretations after seeing an attractive young woman step out from the driver’s side, stylishly dressed in Forbes-chique, and carrying herself like you knew what the future held. In other words, you could threaten them, with a confidence which he could not find within himself.

"Same. You are a natural." You returned the kind words, wishing that it was not such a hard feat for you to do. Conveying numerical fact and artistic white lies was easy enough, but sourcing feelings from the bottom of your heart… problematic.

"If only I felt that way too..."

"Then maybe you would be less careful and therefore less of an amazing dad. It kind of reminds me of the interns at work - the more confident they are, the more likely they are to commit an error." You gave Seonghwa a light pat on his upper arm as you attempted, in your own special say, to comfort him.

"Are you saying people should have low confidence and self-esteem?"

"No, what I am saying is that unshakeable confidence that is beneficial to a person is one that is built through experience. Many, many years of it. I bet you know the car thing." Anything to make the topic relatable to you; you were searching once more for any way to remove yourself from the concept of family, make it more 'user friendly', but this only served to add to the confusion.

"Car thing?”

"You know, the whole thing about some of the most reckless drivers being those who already have a license, have driven just enough to think they are the shit - so like, one or two years, and then... get to experience the joys of insurance, in the best-case scenario."

"Hah, noted. So, basically, stay alert."

"Guess so, but with a kid a lot of it is just a constant learning journey, isn't it?"

"Yep, just people constantly figuring things out. From fees to Nari suddenly not liking a food she was obsessed with for a year to her wanting to try doing something independently when we are running late..."

"You have the patience of a saint, Hwa."

"Job requirement, no?"

"I wish it was."

Silence fell over the two of you as you let the phrase slip. Seonghwa was not sure about how to respond, and you were not sure how to change the topic of conversation without making it sound too jarring.

It was obvious that your mind had gone elsewhere, miles, or perhaps it was more correct to say decades, from the conversation. You were looking inwards, searching for something, trying to clamber up your barriers. But it appeared to be a fruitless venture, as you repeatedly tried to start a sentence, words on the tip of your tongue, only for it to go dry and sabotage you at the last second. This turn of the discussion had striken a dissonant chord with you. Even though Seonghwa would not dare begin to guess why, he knew that it was essential he lightened the mood. It just felt right.

"Then you would be walking on thin ice, Y/N." He leaned over and whispered into your ear, beaming.

"Hey! I'll have you know I am a professional!"

"Yeah, yeah... sure. I have no doubt your market forecasting capabilities."

"Backhanded, but I'll take the compliment... you're right, not with kids." You huffed and took one final slurp of your drink. Compared to your relative optimism a couple of days ago, you could only perceive yourself as a trainwreck.

"I am only joking though, I think you have some talent. You say that but at the same time, Nari really took to you. I can see it. What we have to work on is you not getting jump-scared by everything she does and relax. We will help each other. We're husband and wife after all."

The phrase made you freeze in place. Right. That was exactly what you had signed up for. That title so you could flex it in front of your colleagues, and most importantly your bosses so that you would have a shot at bigger money, bigger dreams. Was this fair on Nari? Was this fair on Seonghwa?

You hummed in half-hearted agreement, tuning into the atmosphere surrounding you and Seonghwa. A myriad of questions glimmering above you like the stars dotting the sky. Constellations of misconceptions and miscommunications that were yet to be put right, or learned to be ignored for the better of you both. As you felt the presence beside you lean forward and sigh, breath abandoned to an infinite expanse of anxieties and hushed ruminations, a morbid curiosity began to plague you. Was it too late to do anything? What was it that you were actually trying to achieve here? Was a promotion the result, or the pretense? You rubbed your temples, with your inner wrists, disconcerted by the audacity which your inner conscious seemed to have. If you had said: goal, it meant goal. Funny how you needed to remind yourself of it, even if you had deemed it so important.

After a few more minutes of staring out into the dark, in silence that was filled only by the rustling of the tree leaves, you felt that it was time to leave, if you wanted to remain level-headed and prepared for an interrogation from Yunho. With a stretch, you pushed yourself off the steps and wobbled into a standing position, much to Seonghwa's surprise. Though that did not last long, and his face relaxed in recognition. Turning back, you were about to pick up the empty bottle, but he quickly intercepted, not giving you as much as a chance, only mumbling 'I've got it, don't worry' on repeat.

"But I feel like I have not done anything to help you today?"

"There will be tomorrow. And the day after. And the day after that. Don't worry, if you want your hands full, I can organise that pretty fast."

"No doubts about that. Once events coordinator, always events coordinator, right?"

"Absolutely. And organising a bunch of frat bros is a very good parent prep experience, I’ll tell you that one for free."

"Welp, I hope I won't be as much trouble..."

"I'm not too worried for the beginning, it's once you get comfortable..."

"Right, okay, same rule applies to me then: stay alert."

"In a meerkat fashion." With astonishing speed, Seonghwa rocked forwards and stood up beside you, running a hand through his locks to smooth them down after being rashly disheveled. Then to imitate the furry animal, he bent his arms at the elbow and wrist, earning an amused chuckle from you, along with a grin which you hid behind a closed hand, with a knuckle pressed to your lips.

“And to think you’re a grown man with a kid.”

“To be a good parent, you need to be a little bit like a kid, Y/N. Not through and through, but a smidgen is enough.” When you did not answer, he added more encouragement, hoping that his promises were significant enough to leave a positive effect on you.

Seonghwa would not want to admit it to you just yet, seeing how you were still adamant on abiding by business restrictions, albeit loosely, but throughout the day, he was hesitant to treat your appearance as something temporary. Ignoring time restrictions, he had indulged in fantasies of ‘what could be’ if you were to stay even for just a bit longer. But that was only natural to do after meeting someone from the past, right? To add, he did not want to regret his decision to introduce you to Nari, and Nari to you. If you two were to bond, and then you would take your leave… Seonghwa would never be able to forgive himself for letting you into the little circle he called family. The signs were already there, of his daughter quickly warming up to you, and it was only a matter of time until the point of no return would be reached.

You had heard of the notion that Seonghwa was explaining to you before this – to understand a child you needed to have an ability to tap into an inner child, a healthy, happy and nurtured one, that was. That was where your comprehension stopped, and you had previously ceased to bother. But now, as you were about to part with today and step into tomorrow as a changed woman, you guessed that this might be something worth learning. So long as you could sustain the belief that this was for a role than a calling.

“Right, so, um… I better get going… it’s getting kind of late…” you cleared your throat and announced, stumbling over your words slightly as Seonghwa would not take his eyes off you, following all your gesticulations and reading nuance.

“You sure? I can organise something for you here, so you don’t have to travel. I’d be more than happy to.”

“See, I have this thing tomorrow, and um, before that need to, you know, do some human things and uh, change and stuff…” your rambling did little to make you appear convincing, but Seonghwa was kind enough to not inquire further – you were sure that if he did, you would have cracked. When it came to him, you had always struggled to make up excuses and fables, even if sometimes that could have saved both of you from hurt.

“Okay.” What was new in your dynamic was how accepting and empathic Seonghwa had become. Or who knew, maybe he had always been that way, but in university had tried to hide himself away in the effort to appear ‘cool’.

In a spur of guilt as you followed Seonghwa back into the house to fetch your shoes, you spontaneously offered to drive him and his daughter to kindergarten on Monday morning. You could see the young man hiding his reaction from you by appearing busy.

“And what makes you think we couldn’t find a place in the local one?”

“Because the activity centre was hell knows where?”

“Fair point. And you’re right, kindergarten is equally far, so I’ll gladly take you up on that offer.” He agreed, and provided you the details of timings, and promised to send you the address.

Fumbling for a way to say goodbye, Seonghwa and you stood on either side of the doorframe, knowing that this should not be as hard as you were making it out to be. It was only once you recalled the message you had received sometime earlier that you quickly made your exit, acutely aware of his gaze trailing your journey away from the front porch to the fence, and disappearing behind the bushes. For some time after, he remained in the same place, letting himself come down from the paradise he had invented as slowly as he could, to return to functioning as a single, independent unit, at least until the dangerous play pretend were to continue on the early Monday morning.

Heart beating wildly, you crashed into the front seat of your car and sank deep until you were half lying down and able to look up at the sky. Not that the action helped distract you. Your mind was struggling to process why you were so on edge, and you desperately wanted to replace the sensation with the usual emotional numbness you associated with the concept of familial closeness. What was happening to you? You reached for your phone again, switching the mode back to see more texts flooding in both from your best friend and from Wooyoung. And the implied meaning of messages from the latter were everything but what you needed.

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autismswagsummit · 1 year

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FAQ - Please read before consulting the askbox! (Warning, moderately long post)

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When is the next poll?

Upcoming/ongoing rounds will always be marked on the pinned post! Any dates will be stated clearly there, and all active polls will be linked as such.

When are the polls in terms of time?

All polls go live at Noon, Central Standard Time. Polls are all 24 hours long (save for the Finals), so they last from Noon of the first day to Noon of the following day.

What is the Wheel of Doom?

The Wheel of Doom is the functional "redemption round" for the major tournament. After every main bracket round the Wheel of Doom returns, and after every round has concluded the final winner goes on to participate in the Grand Finals.

How do I nominate a character/how do I vote?

If nominations are open, there will be a post with an active link to a Google Form in which you can submit your characters. All official voting is handled through Tumblr Polls. Nominations or votes sent in through the askbox or via post comments are disregarded.

Will the nomination spreadsheet ever go public?

Probably not! Mostly to preserve the privacy of anyone who linked to their accounts with essays and such, and wouldn't appreciate potentially hundreds of eyes on their stuff. Sorry!

Who are you rooting for/who do you want to win?

Nobody, at least not while the polls are ongoing! As a general rule I try not to influence the results of the polls too much, so if anyone asks this during an active poll there is a good chance it will be ignored. After, though, feel free to ask!

I think there's voter fraud/misconduct occurring, what do I do?

This may sound harsh, but without concrete evidence of voter fraud there is very little if not nothing I can do about it fairly. If there is no evidence/only speculative evidence, I request you keep it to yourself as to not fill my inbox with unactionable accusations.

What happens if there's a tie?

In the event of a tie, a character (or characters) who did not make it to the base bracket will be introduced as a tiebreaker. In the event the tiebreaker character happens to win, they will of course proceed in the competition. Following a precedent set in the 2023 summit, tiebreaker winners on the Wheel of Doom will not be granted a "second life" in the event that they lose.

I made propaganda (artwork, edits, fanfiction or otherwise unmentioned pieces dedicated towards the tournament), what do I do?

Ping me in it! I truly love looking at all your work, and I appreciate that people take the time and effort to make fan pieces for this. If you wish for it to be reblogged, remember to tag @autismswagreblogs for archival purposes.

Will you do another season/side round/etc?

Maybe! Depends on if I feel like it or not.

#autismsummit2023 #autism #polls #tournament #faq

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worstvideogamesong-poll · 11 months

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Worst Video Game Song Tournament Masterpost

The tournament has begun! We are currently in round 4, and each poll will be open for a week. I will also be reblogging each poll 12 hours after it is posted so that people in different time zones are able to see them more easily. If you don't want to see these reblogs, block the tag #12th hour reblog. There will be a total of 8 polls in this round. 4 polls will be posted a day for a total of 2 days.

When you vote, I would recommend listening to as much as you can of each song before voting, but how you choose is up to you. Remember to be civil in the tags and replies! Some posts will have propaganda included with the songs, but feel free to add more propaganda in the tags and replies, or send it to me in the ask box and I'll try to share it as soon as I can!

View the bracket, make predictions and more on Challonge here

View the spreadsheet of submissions here

View the original introduction post here

Read the FAQ here

Listen to the full playlist on YouTube here

Full list of polls under the cut:

Round 1

Match 1 - Lavender Town (Pokémon Red/Blue) vs. Vs. Odd Yo-Kai (Yo-Kai Watch)

Match 2 - K.K. Synth (Animal Crossing New Leaf) vs. Bad Feeling (Mad Rat Dead)

Match 3 - This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku) vs. Morpho Knight (Kirby and the Forgotten Land)

Match 4 - Track 6 (The Ring: Terror's Realm) vs. Fallen Down (Undertale)

Match 5 - Rodeo Time! (Yo-Kai Watch 3) vs. The Fade (Dragon Age Origins)

Match 6 - Rivers in the Desert (mito Remix) (Persona 5 Dancing in Starlight) vs. Birthday Cake (Jet Set Radio Future)

Match 7 - Let's Start the Killing Game (Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony) vs. You've Got to Eat Your Vegetables! (Commander Keen 4)

Match 8 - Venus (Doom Troopers Sega Genesis) vs. GB Hunter Theme (GB Hunter)

Match 9 - Know What I Mean? (Mario Party 2) vs. Boss Theme 1 (Sonic Superstars)

Match 10 - Area 4, 8, & 13 (Santa Claus Saves the Earth GBA) vs. The Yoshi Clan (Yoshi's New Island)

Match 11 - Bomb Rush Blush (Remix) - Splatoon 2 vs. Mansion Basement (Resident Evil Director's Cut)

Match 12 - Monkeys (Nancy Drew: Ransom of the Seven Ships) vs. Vacation Music 1 (The Sims 1)

Match 13 - Hazy Lane (Yo-Kai Watch 3) vs. Central City (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood)

Match 14 - Mumble Blues (Armed and Delirious (Dementia)) vs. Crazy Bus Title Screen (Crazy Bus)

Match 15 - Striptease (Persona 4) vs. Professor Birch's Laboratory (Pokémon Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire)

Match 16 - Oppression (Cave Story) vs. Spookwave (Undertale)

Match 17 - Nocturne (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Ancient Chozo Ruins (Metroid II: Return of Samus)

Match 18 - Diggity Dog (WWF No Mercy N64) vs. YZAP (Yo-Kai Watch 3)

Match 19 - Versus (Sonic Eraser) vs. Neo-Opportunist (Mad Rat Dead)

Match 20 - 50m (Donkey Kong '94) vs. Black Tar (Xenoblade Chronicles X)

Match 21 - Shadow World (DE DE MOUSE Remix) (Persona 4 Dancing All Night) vs. Mushroom Road (Tales of the Abyss)

Match 22 - Fest Zest (Splatoon 2) vs. Survival Instincts Kicking In (Bravely Default II)

Match 23 - Drawbridge Dilemma (WarioWare: Get it Together!) vs. Fight Theme 1 (Omikron: The Nomad Soul)

Match 24 - Thrifty Megamart (Pokémon Sun/Moon) vs. Metal Gear MS DOS Soundtrack (Metal Gear MS DOS)

Match 25 - NLA (Night) (Xenoblade Chronicles X) vs. Spooktune (Undertale)

Match 26 - Namco Arcade 80's Retro Medley (Super Smash Bros. for Wii U) vs. I Love Beijing Tiananmen (Hong Kong 97)

Match 27 - Stage Theme (1942) vs Red-Green-Yellow-Yellow (Mother 3)

Match 28 - Din's Power (Harp) (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword) vs. Wildfire (Honkai: Star Rail)

Match 29 - Midna's Lament (Remix) (Super Smash Bros. Ultimate) vs. Tired of Life (Lady of Beestmeel Bro)

Match 30 - Holy Orders? (Guilty Gear XX) vs. Burning Men's Soul (Persona Trinity Soul)

Match 31 - Built to Scale (Rhythm Heaven Fever) vs. Main Theme (Beverly Hills Cop)

Match 32 - Just Leave Me Alone (OMORI) vs. Denegul (Lagoon)

Match 33 - Now or Never! (Remix) (Super Smash Bros. Ultimate) vs. Crown Dungeon (The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages)

Match 34 - Heart and Soul (Cutscene) (Sonic Frontiers) vs. Dungeon Man (EarthBound)

Match 35 - Resetti's Theme (Animal Crossing: Wild World) vs. Rise & Shine, Ursine! (Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony)

Match 36 - Belly Flop (Splatoon 3) vs. Lemon Jelly (The Sims 2)

Match 37 - mmm yess put the tree on my pizza (Pizza Tower) vs. The Moving Gigantic Ship (Tales of Xillia)

Match 38 - Comin' at ya, My girl (Yakuza 5) vs. Track 7 (Frozen Fruits)

Match 39 - Battle (Field) (The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild) vs. Title Theme (The Adventures of Rad Gravity)

Match 40 - Emphasis on Scat (BattleBlock Theater) vs. Shipwreckin' (Splatoon 2)

Match 41 - Tem Shop (Undertale) vs. Character Select (Marvel vs. Capcom 2)

Match 42 - Title Screen (Tagin' Dragon) vs. Path of Pain (Hollow Knight)

Match 43 - What's Your Name? (San Fransisco Rush) vs. Pathetic House (Undertale)

Match 44 - Mine: Zew (The Void/Tension) vs. Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy 2)

Match 45 - Versus Giegue (EarthBound Beginnings) vs. Dragon's Den (Pokémon Gold/Silver)

Match 46 - Great Bay Temple (The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask) vs. Sagat's Theme (Street Fighter 1)

Match 47 - Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy X-2) vs. Honeylune Ridge (Super Mario Odyssey)

Match 48 - Close in the Distance (Final Fantasy XIV: Endwalker) vs. Shrimp Shuffle (Rhythm Heaven Fever)

Match 49 - Desert (Super Mario Bros.) (Super Mario Maker 2) vs. National Anthem (Double Dribble Arcade)

Match 50 - Dubble Bath (DIY Remix) (Splatoon 2) vs. Fun House (Spider-Man the Animated Series)

Match 51 - Options (Sonic Spinball) vs. Welcome to Mario Cars 2 (Mario Cars 2)

Match 52 - Twilit Battle (The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess) vs. Confusion (Digimon World 3)

Match 53 - 25m (Donkey Kong) vs. Buying Goods at Palmira (Evergrace)

Match 54 - Crazy Shuffle Theme (Action 52) vs. Joke's End (Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga)

Match 55 - Treasure Caves (Wild Woody) vs. Long Elevator (Undertale)

Match 56 - Conspiracy (わるだくみ) (Muv Luv) vs. Opening (Sonic Blast 3D 5)

Match 57 - Digital Roots (Deltarune Chapter 2) vs. Lying in the Darkness (Tales of Graces)

Match 58 - Victory Road (Pokémon HeartGold/SoulSilver) vs. Title Music (Manic Miner)

Match 59 - Donut Plains (Super Mario Kart) vs. Nightclub (Sabotaged) (Payday 3)

Match 60 - Credtrap (Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill) vs. Cole Train Rap (Gears of War)

Match 61 - Tragic Prince (Castlevania: Symphony of the Night) vs. Theme of Stardust (Yakuza 2)

Match 62 - Vital (Fornite) vs. Title Screen (Ballz 3D)

Match 63 - Emblem Engage! (Fire Emblem: Engage) vs. Sub-Tree Area (Kirby Super Star)

Match 64 - Maximum Power (After Burner (Amiga)) vs. Imp's Song (DOOM)

Round 2

Match 1 - Lavender Town (Pokémon Red/Blue) vs. K.K. Synth (Animal Crossing: New Leaf)

Match 2 - This is Where You Are Caucasian Destination Boy (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage! feat. Hatsune Miku) vs. Track 6 (The Ring: Terror's Realm)

Match 3 - The Fade (Dragon Age: Origins) vs. Birthday Cake (Jet Set Radio Future)

Match 4 - You've Got to Eat Your Vegetables! (Commander Keen 4) vs. GB Hunter Theme (GB Hunter)

Match 5 - Know What I Mean? (Mario Party 2) vs. The Yoshi Clan (Yoshi's New Island)

Match 6 - Mansion Basement (Resident Evil Director's Cut) vs. Vacation Music 1 (The Sims 1)

Match 7 - Central City (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Title Screen (Crazy Bus)

Match 8 - Striptease (Persona 4) vs. Spookwave (Undertale)

Match 9 - Nocturne (Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood) vs. Diggity Dog (WWF No Mercy (N64))

Match 10 - Versus (Sonic Eraser) vs. 50m (Donkey Kong)

Match 11 - Shadow World (DE DE MOUSE Remix) (Persona 4 Dancing All Night) vs. Survival Instincts Kicking In (Bravely Default II)

Match 12 - Fight Theme 1 (Omikron: The Nomad Soul) vs. Metal Gear MS DOS Soundtrack (Metal Gear MS DOS)

Match 13 - NLA (Night) (Xenoblade Chronicles X) vs. I Love Beijing Tiananmen (Hong Kong 97)

Match 14 - Stage Theme (1942) vs. Din's Power (Harp) (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Match 15 - Tired of Life (Lady of Beestmeel Bro) vs. Holy Orders? (Guilty Gear XX)

Match 16 - Main Theme (Beverly Hills Cop (PC)) vs. Denegul (Lagoon(SNES))

Match 17 - Crown Dungeon (The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages) vs. Dungeon Man (EarthBound)

Match 18 - Resetti's Theme (Animal Crossing: Wild World) vs. Belly Flop (Splatoon 3)

Match 19 - The Moving Gigantic Ship (Tales of Xillia) vs. Track 7 (Frozen Fruits)

Match 20 - Title Theme (The Adventures of Rad Gravity) vs. Emphasis on Scat (BattleBlock Theater)

Match 21 - Character Select (Marvel vs. Capcom 2) vs. Title Screen (Tagin' Dragon (NES))

Match 22 - What's Your Name? (San Fransisco Rush) vs. Mine: Zew (The Void/Tension)

Match 23 - Versus Giegue (EarthBound Beginnings) vs. Sagat's Theme (Street Fighter 1)

Match 24 - Chocobo Theme (Final Fantasy X-2) vs. Shrimp Shuffle (Rhythm Heaven Fever)

Match 25 - National Anthem (Double Dribble Arcade) vs. Fun House (Spider-Man: The Animated Series)

Match 26 - Welcome to Mario Cars 2 (Mario Cars 2) vs. Confusion (Digimon World 3)

Match 27 - Buying Goods at Palmira (Evergrace) vs. Crazy Shuffle Theme (Action 52)

Match 28 - Treasure Caves (Wild Woody) vs. Opening (Sonic 3D Blast 5)

Match 29 - Lying in the Darkness (Tales of Graces) vs. Title Music (Manic Miner)

Match 30 - Nightclub (Sabotaged) (Payday 3) vs. Credtrap (Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill)

Match 31 - Theme of Stardust (Yakuza 2) vs. Title Screen (Ballz 3D(SNES))

Match 32 - Emblem Engage! (Fire Emblem: Engage) vs. Imp's Song (DOOM)

Round 3

#if you think i should add anything more to this post let me know and i'll think about it!#my posts #worst video game song tournament #not a poll #music poll #music #video games #tournament poll #poll tournament #poll bracket #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr tourney

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