#but yeah it happened in high school and my brief stint in college

[courtingchaos]

Also, what’s it called when your life feels like off? Like I’m almost watching from the bleachers. I know that has a term and I can’t be fucked to remember it right now but I’m getting that weird almost out of body feeling I’ve had before. It’s not making me panic but it’s giving me a weird personality.

[everybodyscupoftea]

the plug

college au jj x reader

word count: 3025

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of jj’s dad, four year age gap (20yo jj and 24yo reader)

synopsis: you’re the pogues’ alcohol plug and jj’s favorite person

a/n: this was an anonymous request, age gaps are kinda sensitive, nothing here happens until jj is almost 21 but please be careful out there folks; also i got kinda carried away 

You grew up in the Outer Banks, spent most of your time surfing or playing soccer for the local school’s team. Your house was near the Heyward’s shop, and you picked up odd jobs working Kook events all throughout your high school years. When college rolled around, you started working at the Wreck with Kie.

The Pogue and Kook rivalry never particularly interested you, it seemed frivolous, and after a brief stint on the mainland, you realized the world was so much bigger out of the scope of the Outer Banks. Your refusal to participate was what originally drew Kie to you. The two of you hung out after work on Friday nights, you had access to good weed and were willing to share. Eventually she invited you to a party her friends were throwing.

Honestly, you weren’t exactly over the moon at the idea of partying with a bunch of 17-year olds, but the idea of free beer and a night on the beach seemed promising. You figured you could say hey to Kie’s friends and slip away to walk by the ocean.

Until the afternoon of the party rolled around, and you found out that they had no alcohol. Kie scrambled to explain that the guy who normally sold them beer underage had moved and someone stricter had taken his place and refused their fakes. You sighed and stood, “How much do you need me to get?”

“Wait, what?” Kie asked, taken aback.

“Beer. You want packs or a keg?”

She blinked a few times, “We normally get a keg or two.”

“Let’s go.”

You led Kie to your car and cranked it up, immediately turning up the AC as high as it could go. She plugged her phone in to play some music as you drove to the nearest liquor store to the Boneyard.

“Stay here, I’ll be back,” you told her, and she nodded, promising to sit still. The guy inside was in fact different from the guy who used to sell to you and your friends underage, so you fished out your ID. You knew you looked pretty young for your age and had to resist rolling your eyes when he stared at it intensely for a few seconds before charging you for the keg.

When it was filled, he helped you carry it to your car and the two of you set it in the back. Kie stayed still and quiet in case he tried to card her for some reason too, but you weren’t too worried. Soon enough the two of you were back on the road, heading toward your house for a quick change of clothes.

“Can I borrow something?” Kie asked, looking a little nervous.

“For sure, Kie, take what you want.”

You were only there for about 30 minutes before leaving to get the keg to the Boneyard before party time. Kie was really excited to introduce you to her friends, they’d been hearing all about the cool college girl she’d been hanging out with in her spare time, and they were really interested to see who had her so enthralled.

Pope was the first to greet you, recognizing you from when you worked with him and his dad. He nodded at you with a small smile, and you returned it. John B shook your hand with a huge grin, babbling on about how awesome it was to have someone willing to buy them alcohol again. The last of the group, JJ, was the quiet one.

You weren’t sure what he thought of you at first, it was easy to see he was hesitant to just accept anyone, but you did buy him alcohol. He offered you a fist bump and a small smile before telling you, “Really appreciate the plug.”

“No prob, new guy was pretty suspicious, sorry for your loss.”

JJ let out a loud laugh and warmed up to you instantly. From then on, he followed you around. Whether it was hanging around the Wreck while you were working and he was free, or asking to smoke with you some weekends. Kie thought your new shadow was hilarious and she would send you videos of JJ talking about how funny you were or how pretty you were. It was…endearing.

And then you graduated college and got into grad. You wanted to finally move off the island, and with the money you’d saved up from the Wreck, you finally had enough money to rent an apartment just off Chapel Hill’s campus. The Pogues came with you to help you move all your stuff, which you were grateful for.

You let them handle pizza and went to go pick up alcohol for the group as one last hurrah before they left. John B picked through the bag you brought back with a watery smile, “Gonna suck throwing parties without our favorite plug.”

“Aren’t you dating Sarah Cameron now? Get Rafe to buy your alcohol.”

“He hates us,” JJ whined, “not everyone is cool like you.”

You pointed the bottle in your hand at him, “That’s right, don’t you ever forget.”

And then that was it. You were onto the next, without the Pogues. Or, so you thought.

You’d gotten a job at a coffeehouse just off campus while working through your grad degree. It was easy and brought in a surprising amount of tips, and the atmosphere was really chill, so you loved it. Mostly you dealt with regulars, until one morning. You had your back to the door when it opened, making another coffee, and you called over your shoulder, “Be with you in a sec.”

A familiar, slightly deeper voice, answered back, “All good.”

Whirling around, you grinned widely at the boy, “JJ! Long time no see, bud.”

His eyes widened and he laughed, “Holy shit, dude, you work here?”

“Have for the last few years. What can I get you?”

JJ smiled widely, “Actually, just got hired, I’m here for training.”

You passed the customer their coffee and wished them a good day before turning back to JJ, “Okay, go wash your hands and I’ll grab your hat.”

The rest of your shift was spent goofing off with JJ, every so often interrupted by a customer, and you showed him the ropes. He picked up on it pretty quickly, only stumbling through using the register a few times.

“What brings you here?” you finally asked.

JJ took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair a few times, “Family shit. My dad was an asshole and I wanted to get out. I started picking up extra hours at the hotel, but my dad knew where I was, so I decided to just move to the mainland and start over.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “sorry to hear that. Everything okay now?”

He nodded, “Yeah, um, started taking a few classes at Chapel Hill, and Pope’s family is helping me keep rent until I get my feet under me.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“Yeah, I just, I needed to start over. And I saw the hiring sign on the door, so I stopped in a few days ago to apply.”

You nudged his shoulder gently, “If you need anything, gimme a call, yeah?”

JJ blushed and nudged yours back, “Yeah.”

Because of the small number of customers, most shifts at the coffeehouse were solo shifts except for opening and closing. You and JJ both had mostly afternoon classes which meant that the two of you were scheduled several times a week together opening and closing.

One night you had soft music playing while he was doing dishes and you were sweeping and mopping the dining area. JJ watched you dance around with the broom, small smile on his lips, and when you caught his eye, he looked away with a blush.

“J,” you called out, trying to catch his eye again.

He looked back, blush still present on his cheeks, “What?”

“You hungry?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I could eat.”

You motioned out the window, “That place has fire po-boys for cheap if you want to get one with me after.”

JJ stared at the lit-up restaurant across the street before shrugging, “Sounds good.”

Thursday closing shift dinner became a thing after that. One of you would call in your food and pick it up before going back to one of your apartments to eat and do homework. JJ had a quiet focus to him that you liked, it helped keep you calm while scrolling through mounds of research you needed for your final paper.

He had one afternoon shift a week, unbeknownst to you, and walked in for it one week to see you laying face down on one of the tables near the counter. JJ paused, glancing over at the guy he was replacing in confusion. Your coworker shrugged and clocked out without saying anything else.

You felt someone crouch down next to your table a few minutes later and he softly called your name. Opening your eyes felt like a chore since you’d had them squeezed closed for so long to block out the anxiety over your paper that for some reason wasn’t writing itself.

“Want some coffee?” he asked, as soon as he finally saw your eyes.

The thought of caffeine made you want to throw up, and you made a face before finally responding, “How about some tea.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me,” you told him tiredly.

JJ squeezed your shoulder once and walked back around the counter to start making you a drink. You woke your laptop back up to see the word count of 406 staring you straight in the face, and just as you went to put your head back down, a steaming mug of tea was placed in front of you.

“That should help,” JJ told you, smiling softly.

And shockingly, it did. It was warm, and with JJ’s steady presence, you were able to knock out over 1000 words before you had to leave for your afternoon class. He called your name just as you went to push the door open and you turned around, “What?”

“Text me if you need anything else, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Unintentionally, you let JJ worm his way back into your life. One of the classes he struggled with you’d already taken so you fished out your old notes and tutored him for the rest of the semester through it. Sometimes he’d show up at your closing shifts he wasn’t scheduled on and sit at the bar doing schoolwork and distracting you. He did at least always help close which was a huge improvement from when you worked at the Wreck and he showed up to cause problems.

One night was interrupted when the door swung open five minutes from closing. You sighed, not wanting to dirty anything you’d just cleaned, and forced a customer service smile on your face. To your surprise, Kie walked through the door, beaming widely at you.

“Long time, no see!” she called out, opening her arms for a hug.

You beamed and set the rag down on the counter, wrapping her up tightly. She squeezed around your middle hard and you sighed, “Missed you, Carrera.”

“Missed you too.”

She sat next to JJ and the three of you caught up while you and your coworker finished the closing duties. You nodded at her to leave when she held up the garbage bag to let you know she was heading out after a trip to the dumpster.

Kie stood, “Okay, we have to meet up with everyone else, none of us have seen JJ’s apartment yet.”

“Hope you cleaned, JJ,” you told him, bumping your elbow into his side with a laugh before continuing, “last time I was there it was questionable.”

“It’s clean,” JJ defended himself, “you caught me on a bad day.”

“Bad month, more like,” you retorted, laughing when he flipped you off in response.

Kie watched the two of you, amused, “Wow JJ, you’ve come a long way.”

John B and Pope stepped out of the restaurant next door, hands full of food bags, before you or JJ could respond and greeted you just as eagerly as Kie had.

“Getting the gang back together,” John B cheered, lifting two of the bags in the air.

You originally had plans to drink wine and watch the new season of Stranger Things, but the prospect of seeing some of your old friends was too enticing. JJ’s eyed you as you shifted on your feet, “You sure you guys want me butting in.”

Kie rolled her eyes, “We thought you knew we were coming in. JJ said he’d tell you.”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me, I wanted it to be a surprise!” he defended.

Pope spoke in what you think was meant to be a mockery of JJ’s voice, “Don’t bother bro, I’ll just text her and let her know.”

With a laugh, John B added, “It was just like old times whenever we needed alcohol and you’d be all ‘I’m going to visit her at work today, we’ll just swing by and get some after, I’ve got this’. The nostalgia was overwhelming, J.”

JJ scowled at his friends as the teasing continued. You’d known about his crush on you back then, tried not to encourage it because you knew you were leaving and because of the underage situation, but it was funny to hear about it from the other side.

“Okay, so we headed to JJ’s place?” you finally interrupted, saving him from the merciless teasing.

“My place,” JJ confirmed and you broke apart into two separate groups, one in JJ’s car and one in yours.

Kie rode with you and took control of the music, like always. You smiled, “Really is just like old times, huh?”

A few weeks later, one of the Thursday night shifts, JJ seemed less enthused than normal. You didn’t want to pry but you were worried about him. After a few more half answers from him, you finally stopped drying the dishes, “Maybank, what’s going on?”

“My fucking-“ he trailed off for a few seconds before shaking his head and continuing, “my dad called asking for money. Apparently, he’s broke and he owes his dealer. I just can’t, god I can’t fucking escape him.”

He wasn’t crying, but you’d never seen JJ’s jaw so tense before and your heart ached for him. You dried your hands off and pulled him into a tight hug, “Your dad is a piece of shit and you deserve better.”

“Do I?” he asked, almost hysterically, while he tried to pull away.

You didn’t let him go far, “Yes, you do. You’re a good guy who deserves to be happy and successful and far away from his dad’s reach.”

“I wish I could see it like that,” he murmured, voice breaking halfway through. JJ’s whole body shuddered a few times as he fought tears harder than he ever had before. He didn’t want to break down in front of you and look like a child.

“How about you go get dinner, I’ll go buy some alcohol, and we meet at my apartment and watch movies tonight.”

JJ’s lips quirked up into the briefest smile you’d ever seen, “Stepping back into that plug role, huh?”

“Turn 21 then,” you told him, shoving him away gently.

“Two months, and then I’ll finally be able to start repaying my alcohol debts.”

“You’re going to be buying me drinks for years, J.”

He held his pinky out, looking significantly more cheered up, “I promise.”

You linked pinkies with him before pulling him into one more hug with one last thought, “You’re going to have to stick around for a while to keep that promise.”

He cleared his throat, almost nervously, and you pulled away, confused. JJ wouldn’t look you in the eye when he spoke, “Surely you knew.”

“What?” you weren’t really prepared to have the conversation that seemed to be happening.

“That I liked you, idolized you practically. You were so cool and older and you dealt with all my shit.”

“J,” you warned, not sure if you liked where it was going.

He let out a sad laugh, “Please just be honest with me, you knew right?”

With a sigh, you pulled your hat off and clutched it in your hands, “I knew.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, hands shoved deep in his pockets. JJ looked up at the ceiling with a sharp inhale before continuing, “Fuck, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. And then I came here and started doing it again.”

And you had to stop that train of thought right there, “Woah, wait, it doesn’t bother me, JJ, you know that right? Like I do enjoy having you around.”

Eyebrows raised, JJ finally made eye contact with you, “What?”

“Well I mean,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly unsure how to continue, “I guess it was a little weird when you were in high school, but it’s not so bad now.”

“What?” he repeated, faintly this time.

You rolled your eyes, “Fucking hell, JJ, really?”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I was walking into this conversation ready to get rejected, let me be surprised.”

“I cannot deal with you, go buy the food, oh my god.”

JJ grinned at you cheekily, “Is this a date?”

You hated him. So much.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed, “Are you asking me out right now?”

“I’m about to rescind the offer if you don’t quit.”

“I can’t believe the day has finally come. Kie is going to flip her shit,” JJ told you, leading you out of the empty shop.

“God, what have I gotten myself into,” you muttered.

JJ stopped walking and looked at you with a soft smile, all traces of teasing gone, “Hey,” he got your attention, “thanks for everything, now and then.” Before you could answer, he continued, “Best plug I ever had.”

“God dammit, JJ!” you exclaimed and his laughter echoed down the empty street as the two of you walked to the po-boy place, hands swinging between you.

[reversecreek]

hi it’s me... clicks across the linoleum of the dash wearing high heels w a spray tan like i’m a member of jersey shore suddenly..... best summary of willa is that she got moira rose as her #1 chara on a What Character Are You Most Like personality test out of thousands of options.... says so much. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here 😋 like this or hmu fr plots!!

* ashley moore, cis female + she/her  | you know willa deneurve, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, most of her life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to watch me by the pom poms like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sticking gold stars over old polaroids until you can barely see faces, dressing as marie antoinette at your high school prom & delivering fake laughter to a bratz doll you’re pretending is a talkshow host thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 1st, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before. they just Clicked n no-one cld believe she’d chosen him bt she was jst. completely head over heels n didn’t care what anyone had to say bc that was That

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like "i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying “dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from irving at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next? i think she’d graduate n then jst suddenly decide to move to irving in a fit of impulse. to all her college friends she’d be like “ugh a beach retreat is so necessary honestly the city is sooooooooo toxic this place cld literally enlarge my pores if i wasn’t so rigorous with my skincare routine” bt like 🤔 what u seeking girl? results pending.

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to irving little over a yr ago. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show tht filmed in one of the larger beach houses where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating irving like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unrequited flame: willa burns thru people like matches. bright n fast. honestly i feel like she struggles to take romance seriously so it cld be fun to play around with someone who’s been singed by that in the past…. mayb they hd actual feelings whereas willa was just messing around n having fun…. living la vida loca so to speak…….. we can discuss a time frame or specifics to expand upon this but. sexy angst perhaps.

those she knew from childhood: willa moved to NY at 11 n i feel like it was very sudden n soon after the accident. maybe she didn’t even say goodbye. maybe they were rly close n all of a sudden she didn’t show up to school the next day n when they rode past her house on their bike the sign said sold and that was that. honestly very dramatic of her even at a young age. we love a disappearing act. houdini who?

acting rival: honestly jst feel like this cld be funny. willa’s so dramatic she’d be like i literally want them dead they’re a despicable little gremlin fr trying to steal my spotlight. cld be as simple as having auditioned a few times fr the same parts or something.

childhood sweetheart: i think it cld be rly cute n sad if there was someone that kind of echoed the dynamic her mum n dad had except she was the celeste n they were the marlon…. (open to any gender)…….. so like. willa was always very larger than life commanding attention in a room n they were more to the sidelines but they just kind of got each other n brought out the best in one another. added angst to the fact tht willa wld maybe want to avoid them as much as possible now bc it dredges up feelings she doesn’t want to confront where her parents r concerned n also in a way any possibility of them winding up together feels like sellotaping an expiration date to both of their foreheads in willa’s brain

someone who was either a fan of or also on the reality show willa was: i imagine it like a reinvention of the hills honestly except based in these irving beach houses…. probably didn’t run that long bt there was a bunch of drama on it mostly staged…… maybe they were willa’s love interest bt it was all fake fr the cameras…… it wasn’t like. a huge deal n didn’t rly catch flight so much where popularity’s concerned bt. cld be fun to play with <3

patti frands: jogs in high knees to translate that into party friends as i adjust my spectacles. willa’s very sociable bt she’s also like kind of full of herself n obnoxious so do with that what u will. KFHGKSHGKGHFSKG. she knows hw to have a gd time tho like growing up she was rly into the gay club scene n the drag scene in NY so like. let’s hear it fr the gays who know how to do it right <3

someone equally over the top: i luv the idea of willa having someone who just like runs with made up scenarios n roles she makes up on the spot n them hanging out is like a 24/7 improv session tht they reel random surrounding strangers just fr the fun thrill

the other woman: willa is quite detached n selfish so she wld easily be the other woman in a relationship n not care about it n this cld make for good spice <3

[fire-fira]

Nonbinary Awareness Week Day 2: Coming To Terms

(This is probably going to get wordy as heck.)

First time I heard terms around being nonbinary or about there being more than two genders:

Whoooooo boy. Okay, so the first time I heard terms for it was sometime in my teens (because yay, the now dated af documentary [Middle Sexes]-- dear gods, I had to be around 18 or 19 even though it feels like I saw it when I was way younger, more around 13, smh). First time I was aware of there being more than two genders though... That was back when I was 4. I didn’t have the words for it back then beyond ‘I know I’m not a girl. So does that make me a boy? ...Noooooo, I’m not that either.’ (Not that I was saying that to anyone around me, because no one asked.)

When and how I realized I was nonbinary:

LOL

Like I said with the first question, I knew I was nonbinary when I was 4. (I’m an allistic hyperlexic and I was WAY too smart for my own good as a little kid. I was thinking through cause-and-effect when I was 4 and reading at a college level in first grade. So me going through that whole ‘Why are they calling me that? That’s weird and isn’t right, I’m not a girl. Okay, if I’m not a girl does that mean I’m a boy? ...Noooooo, I’m not that either’ string of logic at that age was entirely on brand for me.)

Something else that was entirely on brand for me at that age was looking at the world around me and not seeing any examples of what I knew I was and immediately coming to the conclusion that if I told anyone I wasn’t a girl or a boy that they’d think I was insane and have me committed to an asylum and I’d never be let out. Not fun times. (Though hilariously enough, that same logic I had as a kid also came to the conclusion that since I wasn’t a girl or a boy that it was impossible for me to be straight. Yes, I seriously thought out that sort of crud and came to that conclusion as a kid. And considering I’m aroace turns out I was right-- though obviously not for the reasons I thought back then. lol)

Though the first time I saw an example of anything in fiction that said ‘that’s what I am’ in terms of my gender to little me was when I was 5 and saw the anime Dominion Tank Police for the first time. (The character didn’t even have any lines and was unconscious in a sort of stasis, and then wasn’t even on screen for long. Pretty sad if you think about it, but 5-year-old me was enthralled by the idea of seeing a character like me when I didn’t think that was possible.)

Second example of a character in fiction that read as nonbinary to me was way back in 1st grade and it was a book on tape. I can’t remember the title or the author (infuriatingly enough), but I do remember that the main character (named X) was able to mentally jump from one person to another and ‘inhabit’ them without anyone knowing they were there ‘controlling’ the person’s actions, and that X’s pronouns shifted with whoever they were temporarily inhabiting. (Little me both was and wasn’t envious of the idea. On one hand, being able to switch around like that would have been nice; on the other hand, never being seen as me and only as other people is something that I found unnerving, and still do.)

Did I ever consider being a label other than the one I identify with, and what was the process of finding my gender like?:

From ages 4 to 18 there was a TON of me not saying outright what I was, but also trying to be read as nonbinary as possible. I was so painfully obvious about being nonbinary that it was like a rhinoceros wearing a tutu and a tiara and trying to hide behind a 1 ft tall bush and claim it was a ballerina. No one was buying it. But since most people around me didn’t have the mental framework to even conceive of anyone nonbinary, there was a lot of me freaking people out because they could tell I was ‘weird’ but they couldn’t put into words or place how I was ‘weird’.

I tried to figure out terms back in junior high to early high school, but the ones back then didn’t really stick. (They were way too caught up in my aroace-ness too, and just didn’t feel right. I let go of the two terms I thought up back then because they also felt kind of pretentious to me and I didn’t like that feeling.)

I came to third-gender as the term that just felt right when I was 22 or 23 thanks to self-education and finding Will Roscoe’s [Changing Ones]. (And damned if my mixed-race Native ass wasn’t relieved to know that a lot of NDN cultures recognize(d) people like me for who we are/were. And yeah, I know there are some things in that book that are questionable, but at the time it was what I needed.)

For a while in my early-to-mid 20s I considered identifying as genderqueer, but I couldn’t pin down the definition for it in my head and that made me uncomfortable-- and with the fact that one of the possible definitions is ‘a person not identifying with socially constructed gender roles’ (which can apply to some cis people), I felt like it wasn’t clear enough in stating that I am not a woman or man. So I ditched it pretty quickly.

I also had a brief stint in my early 20s of wondering if I was intersex and had been operated on before I fully grasped the concept that anatomy =/= gender. (I might or might not be, genetics and biology is weird and complicated and I don’t really care, though as far as I’m aware I’m not.)

Calling myself nonbinary more generally clicked into place when I was about 25.

I’ve vaguely considered Two Spirit, but 1) I don’t feel like I have a right to that term without someone else Native saying that I am (for complicated personal reasons), and 2) part of me feels it’s not quite as specific as I’d prefer for my own self-description.

Have I come out to anyone else? Who?:

AHAHAHAHAAAAAA-- I started coming out more openly in my early 20s and I never freaking looked back.

First person I actually came out to (in that complicated ‘I’m not a girl or guy’ way) was the school counselor for my grade on the last day of my senior year of high school. Talk about dropping an info bomb and running.

First person in my family I came out to was a cousin who I’m not close to (and has serious issues, which I’m hoping she’ll eventually get better from), and even though I haven’t seen her in years (she kind of burned all bridges with our family) my fiance’s seen her around recently and has told me that my cousin used the right pronouns for me. Honestly didn’t expect that when at least two (loud) members of my family won’t even give me that respect.

My family knows, all my friends know, back when I was in college I made it a point to come out on the first day of classes every class, and I make it a point to come out if I’m going to be interacting with anyone for an extended period of time rather than just a few minutes. Why? Because I am still PAINFULLY FREAKING OBVIOUS, and if I tell people right off the bat then they’re able to get over the internal ‘OMG THAT PERSON’S WEIRD! BUT HOWWWW????????’ pretty quickly instead of freaking out over trying to pick apart why I trip their sense of ‘this person is strange’.

If you’re not out, are you planning to come out? Is being out important to you?:

I am SO thoroughly out.

I cannot and WILL NOT go back to lying about who I am. I was so damn miserable before I stopped lying and trying to hide that I’m an enby. No one can pay me enough to ever willingly go back to that.

And again, I’m painfully obvious. I can’t hide, even if people have the biggest cis-normative goggles on, because my behavior, personality, intonation, and body language-- everything of who I am-- gives me away. It’s honestly safer for me to be upfront about my gender than it is to try to hide it, because if I’m going to be tripping wires for people anyway then I may as well give them the framework to understand it so they don’t stress and obsess over it to the point of either ostracizing me or being outright hostile. (Yes, that’s happened to me a lot in my life.)

Plus my being so blatantly out has helped a bunch of other people where I live come to terms with the fact that they’re enbies too. And there is no way in hell I will ever regret having helped others have the confidence to be who they are.

[colossal-guest-2011]

My experience with Todd Haberkorn

I first met Todd at Anime Central 2010, if you can call it a meeting. I got his autograph and a picture, and I attended a few of his panels. He mentioned he was going to Japan in a week or so for work, and I joked with friends that it would be funny if I saw him during my own study abroad trip to Japan that was in just over a week. Lo and behold, at my connecting flight in San Francisco, I saw him waiting at my gate, waiting to board the same plane as me. Internally freaking out, I snapped a sneaky photo and texted my friends. They shared the news on Facebook, and many hours and a long flight later, he saw it. I posted the pic and tagged him, and despite the photo accidentally having cut off his head, he admitted it was him and joked that the next time we shared an international flight, I should say hi.

Flash forward to Colossalcon 2011. Todd was one of the guests, along with a few other VAs we adored, so my best friend and I decided to take a road trip out to Ohio for the weekend, rooming with a few people she knew from the internet at a hotel up the street. We finally got the chance to be in Todd’s autograph line. When it was my turn, I said, “Remember last year when a girl snuck a creeper photo of you at the airport and said you guys were on the same flight to Japan? And that she should have said hi? Yeah, that was me.” We laughed about the whole absurd situation, and as he signed my item, he asked if I played soccer. Confused, I said no, I hated soccer, but I was a newly-christened marathon finisher, since running was basically free and I was a broke college student. He smiled and said something like, “Ah, I knew it had to be something like that. I could tell by the legs.” I was confused and (admittedly) a little flattered — I had always been a scrawny kid, but my muscles had developed well through high school volleball and my marathon training, and it did feel nice to have that appreciated. I was (and am) a socially awkward mess, though, so I attributed my flash of discomfort at my inability to accept a compliment. I asked for a pic, he agreed, and we went on our way.

Later that evening he had a panel, I believe about his fanclub that he had just started up. My best friend and I weren’t the ones who started it, and I can’t recall how we got involved (maybe via Twitter?), but we were in contact with the group’s founder, and we were essentially some of the first volunteers. After the panel, he hung around a bit to take pics and chat. When my friend and I approached, he said, “Hey! There’s my runner!” We got a pic, and then my friend mentioned that we were working with his fan club. He lit up, asked us to hang around while he did a few more pics with other attendees, and then asked if we wanted to go somewhere and chat. My friend and I, being young, weeb-tastic fangirls, excitedly agreed. He asked us to meet in the resort’s lobby.

When we met up, it was just the two of us and him. For a while, we just talked about his fan club, Team Haberkorn.It was still not really a big thing, brand new, and he animatedly talked about what sort of things he wanted to do with it, how he wanted to connect with his fans. For roughly 20-30 minutes, that’s all we discussed. Then he started some small talk, asking how our weekend had been going. I told him it was fun, going to a con at a big resort and far from my home, but since my birthday was on Monday, we were treating it like a pseudo birthday vacation. He asked how old I was turning, and I said 20. He excused himself for a moment, and when he came back, he had a clear glass from the bar. “For the birthday girl,” he said, handing me the glass full of pink liquid and ice cubes.

As a woman, you’re taught never to leave a drink unattended, and never to take a drink if you didn’t see it made. Not wanting to be rude, though, I carefully took a sip. I asked him what it was. He never said, just smiling and saying, “Something good.” In my head, I was thinking, “There’s no way he would have put something in this. Your friend didn’t get one, and if he tries anything, she’s right here, watching. It’s fine.” So I kept the drink. I don’t really remember details of what else we talked about, but I distinctly remember him telling us about how he had a long-distance girlfriend in college and how he would drive to see her every weekend to “read books” as he put it, complete with a knowing smirk.

Eventually we said we needed to go, since we had to get back to our own hotel. He asked us if we weren’t staying at the resort? And we admitted that we’d made our plans to come far too late for any resort rooms to still be available, so we had 7 people crammed in a small hotel room a mile up the road. Then he said, “Hey, if you guys want, I have plenty of space in my room. You’re free to sleep there if you want.” A combination of social awkwardness and weird vibes had us quickly and graciously declining. We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. We didn’t talk the rest of the con, but I know he saw us at one of his panels the next day, and he smiled and waved.

At this point, despite my clearly-remembered unease, I wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly had weirded me out so badly. It was a long time, years, that I was able to fully come to terms with the fact that a 28-year-old convention guest had said I had nice legs, bought me alcohol knowing I was 19, and invited me and my friend to sleep in his hotel room. I look back sometimes and shudder to think about what might have happened if we had said yes.

We saw him again at Colossalcon 2012, though his busy schedule and other things (unrelated to anything serious) kept us from interacting one-on-one outside of his autograph session. Online, he and I would occasionally bicker on Twitter or Facebook, egging the other on. In time, though, college kept me a lot busier, and I had no time for anime or cons or banter. I graduated, got a job, and did other things. Todd seemed to get more and more argumentative online, often taking big news stories and playing devil’s advocate. His fan club had gotten wildly popular, though my friend and I had only stayed on for a few months. He seemed to be more hostile, less open-minded, and much quicker to mock people in a way that didn’t seem like friendly banter. In October 2016, he and I butted heads for the final time. I’ll let the screenshots tell the story.

After that, he deleted me from his Facebook. What’s hilarious is that he then proceded to send me an Instagram DM, which meant me had to look me up. He definitely had my e-mail address from my brief stint as fanclub volunteer, but he chose this.

He and I have not spoken since, and I have no desire to ever speak to him again. In the years following the 2011 incident, I grew so much and learned just how skeezy he had been. He denies malicious intent, but I know for a fact that he has slept with two other convention attendees in the past, one of whom I know. Regardless of their age, that’s still scummy. I don’t want to think about if there have been other young women like me, maybe teenagers, excited at being singled out by their favorite anime voice actor, showered with compliments, given a drink or two, invited to a hotel room.

[clexacon]

Here’s a full transcript of the UnConventional episodes featuring  Natasha Negovanlis and Elise Bauman. 

Huge thank you to Rebecca Soileau for doing this transcription for ClexaCon!

Opening Song

“Give me someone who loves like me, up there on the tv or movie, anything would do. Cause I’ve learned surviving isn’t living, we deserve way more than a brief romance on an episode or two, we deserve something unconventional”

Hey there Clexacon-ers! Welcome to another episode of “Un-CON-ventional”, the ClexaCon podcast! I am your host as always, Dana Piccoli and we are less than 2 months out from ClexaCon 2018! Can you even handle it? Before we head into this really really fabulous episode which I’m really excited to share with you, I do have a couple things I just want to tell you. On March 1st, which is coming up very very soon, tickets go on sale for “Breakfasts with Clexacon Guest”. And that is something you do not want to miss if you can score a ticket to. You’re going to be able to possibly be able to meet Katherine Barrell, Dominique Provost-Chalkley, Tamara Duarte, Emily Andras, Anna Silk, Natasha Negovanlis and Elise Bauman. What an incredible opportunity to dine and dish with some of your favorite, favorite stars! So keep that on your calendar, March 1st, tickets go on sale and they are going to go fast. Also on sale, speaking of good stuff, ClexaCon has added some really really cool new merch to there store! They’ve got slick, black on black and blue on blue “ClexaCon 18” shirts, they also have new hats and all sorts of cool stuff so check out there store, just click on the little store button all the way on right of their ClexaCon website and there you go and you’ll be looking ah-mazing!

I don’t want to keep these guests from you any longer because I know that your super amped about it so, we are going straight into my interviews with Natasha and Elise! Here we go!

I am very very happy to introduce my guest for this episode of “Un-CON-ventional” because they are 2 of my favorite people in the world, you know them, you love them, Natasha Negovanlis and Elise Bauman...LADIES! Thank you for being here!

Elise: I’m giving us a round of applause

Natasha: Thanks for having us

Dana: I mean come on, it was a given right? I’m gonna throw a monkey wrench into this whole thing, so dear listeners, I am not going to ask these actresses, these multi talented creative types, anything about their flagship Carmilla. No i am not.

Elise: Whaaat?!

Natasha: Whatt?!

Dana: Because I don’t know if you know this but these guys are going to be doing a “Hollstein” panel at ClexaCon so there’ll be lots and lots of Carmilla questions there. So this, this is my version of the actors studio and i'm just going to ask them all sorts of weird ass questions, and hopefully some thought provoking questions, so you can get to know them a little better as people. How do you feel about that lades?

Natasha: I feel fantastic about it

Elise: Very excited

*laughter*

Dana: Alright! So my first question: this is for both of you...

Natasha: Ok

Dana: What would you tell your 15 year old self now, if you could go back in time?

Natasha: You know what, I was thinking about this recently, actually, haha, I was thinking about it bc I was taking a painting class with my mom and I was thinking about how i'm more a  creative person than someone who can follow instructions and I think if I could go back in time I would maybe tell my 15 year old self that she doesn't have to go to university. Um, here in Canada, university and college are different things, so what we call university, I guess yall call college but college and university are different here so usually when your very academic and a straight A student, it’s expected that you go to university to get a degree. But I think that um yea, I think I would tell my 15 year old that it would be ok to like go to an acting school or go do a diploma program instead. That being said, I don't have any regrets. But I think I would tell myself and also tell young people now that it's ok if you learn differently from others. Yea, I don’t know something that just popped into my head recently.

Elise: I am into it. And I would probably tell young Elise that she could just skip over the vegan stage that she was in for a brief while.

*laughter*

Elise: There was like a year and ½ that I just went without dairy and you know like why? Why..

Dana: You would tell young Elise to eat that ice cream girl, eat it!

Elise: Cheese is a great invention. I understand that humans are like probably incapable of digesting it very well and like it probably really bad for environment and like cheese pizza is a great thing so that’s probably the sage wisdom I would gift young Bauman.

Dana: *laughing* I would expect nothing less from you Elise. So eat cheese.

Elise: Eat the dairy, don’t forgo the yogurt. The whole course of my life could’ve been very different. I’m kidding. It was great, it was a great time. Nothing against vegans, vegans are great people! Gonna get a lot of backlash for this.

Dana: Now’s she’s backtracking. *laughing* So speaking of food, if you and Natasha were attending a dinner party, what do you think the other one would bring?

Natasha: oohh

Elise: I would say Natasha would maybe, I mean this is a little on the nose, but maybe like a greek salad.

*laughing*

Elise: But like a REAL greek salad! Like real, authentic feta cheese and all that good stuff. Either that or she would go straight to like a meat platter. Be like alot of cured...

Dana: Just like lamb on a stick or something?

Elise: No it would be, like it would be really nice. She would have hand selected a bunch of really nice meats and pickles and cheeses and she’d thrown like, a good platter.

Dana: So she’d be like the queen of charcuterie?

Elise: Charcuterie! Thats what its called. Yea yea yea, she would do that. It would be on a really nice wooden board or something.

Natasha: Ooohhh that’s very accurate. I think I would do something like that or at least some ingredients for someone else’s charcuterie board, for sure. Some like, preserves or something. Um yea i don't think I’d bring a salad because no one likes the girl who brings the salad

*laughing*

Natasha: Also it would be a little be cheap of me too, you know? I think, to let it impress. Also I have a secret, culturally i'm not greek, but I do make a mean greek salad, my family's macedonia.

Dana: Macedonia!

Natasha: So the food is actually terrible, it's like boiled potatoes and overcooked flavorless meat.

Elise: Nobody wants to be the girl with salad, but especially nobody wants to be the girl with the boiled potatoes.

“laughing”

Natasha: Yea I brought you some boiled potatoes, hahaha. I think that Elise would bring like some hummus, some appetizers for before dinner. Like some really good hummus, maybe some kale chips, or she would just bring her own separate meal that she would eat out of her own tupperware while everyone else is eating. Which like I secretly do admire because I wish that I had Elise’s discipline. No or she’d surprised everyone and bring a really nice dessert actually, like a good pie.

Elise: Ooohhh yea! I baked a pumpkin pie recently, it was a good time.

Natasha: Yea

Elise: Yea, alright I like that, I like that. I think we should throw a dinner party. I think that's really where this is going.

All: yea!

Elise: Make a mental note, make sure Elise doesn't bring kale chips

Dana:  Alright Natasha, what's the biggest misconception about you?

Natasha: I think the biggest misconception is that i'm extremely vain and/or high maintenance. And I was thinking about this, I don’t know if its my bone structure or what but I was thinking about this recently and its interesting that a lot of people who take care of their appearance, or are really good at self care are perceived as high maintenance because my being good at taking care of myself means that i dont need alot from other people! Know what im sayin?

Elise: Ha. “know what im sayin.”

Natasha: I think that would be one. I’m not so fancy. I think that's the biggest misconception that i’m fancier-

Elise: She's into fancy cured meats but nothing else.

Natasha: ...that im fancier than i am, but i mean,

Dana: But she’s not like using them as facial hydration or like...

Elise: Yea.

Natasha: That's what i use greek salad for.

*laughter*

Dana: It’s astringent, it works.

Dana: What about you Elise, what is the biggest misconception about you?

Elise: Mmmm, I think probably somewhere around, I think people think im only ever a positive person, which may be a bit of a far stretch sometimes (she says laughing). I think I have a lot more aggression than people realize,

Dana: “Although she is little, she is fierce” is what you’re saying?

Elise: Yea something like that.

Dana: Do you have a punching bag, something you can work with?

Elise: I don't have a punching bag, I just signed up for soccer again! I signed up for a soccer team.

Natasha: That's awesome

Elise: Yeah I used to play soccer from maybe like 10 until high school and I loved it and it was definitely my sport and then I, well i just stopped playing after high school because there weren't many opportunities to play. And I have terrible knees, but that's not stopping me so i'm going to go do another stint at soccer. Just for fun. I think I need that outlet. I think I really need to get back to my tomboy roots. I've been feeling that way a lot lately. I’m like “why am I trying so hard to be this other thing? I don't know.” So I’m going to go back on the field.

Dana: I love how this shit got really deep right there.

*laughter*

Dana: See there was a method to my madness guys! Ok so, what is the question that you’ve always wanted an answer to, but have yet to get one?

Elise: What happens after we die? Like thats been a huge one since I was a kid.

Dana: I think that's pretty fair.

Elise: I thinks that's really what is the meaning, why am I here, what the point, what’s the purpose?

*laughing*

Elise: You know, things like that, generally what I think about on a Wednesday afternoon.

*laughing*

Elise: Natasha?

Natasha: I was just going to say, how one changes their fitted sheet when they are by themselves?

Elise: Or.. How one folds a fitted sheet!? That is something  would love an answer to.

Natasha: Yes. Im sure there are YouTube tutorials for this, but putting a fitted sheet on a bed when you're one person is so tricky. Because as soon as you tuck one side in, the other side lifts up..or like putting your duvet cover on.

Elise: Oh yea

Dana: Oh the worst! And then you get trapped in the duvet cover when your by yourself

Natasha: Yea!

Dana: Then you just hope someone comes to the door, like UPS.

Elise: That one i figured out, you have to like lie the whole thing down on your floor and then take the two corners and then like pull it over and it's a logs and anyway...

Natasha: The germaphobe in me does not like that. I’d think of the dog and it would be like, ugh on my floor. Although he does sleep in my bed technically, so what's the difference?

Elise: Oh yea a dog.

Dana: I’d introduce you to my dog right now but she's currently snoring and farting, simultaneously

*laughing*

Natasha: Amazing!

Dana: Ok ,what are you guys nostalgic about?

Elise: Pogs

Dana: Pogs? Like the little paper things?

Elise: You can get medal ones too or plastic ones

Dana: Oh haha pardon me!

Elise: You were really fancy if you got a metal pog, that’s when you know you made it.

Natasha: Oh yea

Dana: But what’s the purpose of pogs? Like what did pogs do?

Natasha: It was a game!

Elise: Um, elevated, like your self worth as a human. *Laughter* Like you know, feeling really blue today, but let me just look at my pog collection and know I feel alot better about my outlook

Dana: Did you throw them? I don’t, I remember pogs but i didn’t play with them. But what did you do with them? Did you just throw the little pieces of cardboard, excuse me, metal?

Elise: I think you just hoarded them and like compared your pogs to other kids.

Natasha: Nooo it was a game, it was like a serious game guys, there were tournaments!

Dana: Is this, were pogs more popular in Canada? I’m starting to think they were.

Elise: That and Tamagotchis, Tamagotchis were the it thing for a while.

Natasha: Yea

Elise: But I killed all my pets so I wasn’t very good at that one. I would set my alarm and wake up at 3 am and be like “I gotta water this thing again?” and it’d be dead by 7 am the next day. Yeaa

*laughter*

Dana:  What about you Natasha? Are you nostalgic about pogs are is there something else that really gets your nostalgia button?

Natasha: Oohh I don’t know, I mean, gosh, I get really nostalgic over children's choral music.

*laughter*

Natasha: I was a choir nerd so I can’t hear children’s choirs without getting very emotional. And then I can’t listen to it. Or like really obscure like choir folk music. Because I used to go, I used to compete in competitions with my choir and like travel across North America and yea. There’s this one cd we have of, it was like, my choir sang with like ten other choirs from all across North America and it was this massive church and we were all, it wasn’t, it just happened to be in a church, they weren't religious choirs, but we were like all along the outside of the aisles and in the balconies and I just remember it was a really cool experience having hundred and hundreds of voices under 12 coming together. So yea, whenever I hear kids choral music, especially around the holiday times if there's something playing. I don't love the holiday season but if there's something with a  kids choir I get really nostalgic cause my best childhood memories were surrounded by choir and singing so yea.

Dana: That's really sweet. Alright super serious question here guys, have you ever seen a ghost?

Elise: Yes I have.

Natasha: Whoa what!

Dana: What? Tell us who was it, what ghost was it, where was it? I want details, I want everything.

Elise: I’ve seen a couple ghosts. I was a kid and a lady ghost just flew over my bed one day, well not flew, it was just kind of like there, I don’t know. And then another time I was in a church and I saw a man in like a uniform or something walk by and then I was like what the, so I went into room but there were no doors leading out of that room so I was like “probably a ghost, probably a ghost”.

Dana: Did your sightings of ghosts stop as you got older?

Elise: Yes, yea. I only saw the 2 when I was a kid. Maybe they weren't real, maybe they were figments of my imagination.

Dana: Or you were really intuitive as a kid and you were open to it. I think a lot of kids see things that adults turn their minds off to.

Elise: Totally. I totally think that are other parallel realms going on and we can kind of pop in and out of them occasionally.

Dana: What about you Natasha? Have you ever seen a ghost? A spirit? Poltergeist?

Natasha: No i’ve never seen one, I think i’ve shut myself off to that stuff so. But a medium did once tell me that i had a posse of ghosts around me, she did not use the word posse (laughter) but there were many spirits around me that were not related to me and that I didn’t know and I was like “oh that’s disturbing”

*laughter*

Natasha: Particularly there's this little girl ghost that follows me around and I was like ok, not the most terrifying of the ghosts.

Dana: The good thing is you’re never alone.

*laughter*

Dana: Why aren't they helping you with your f***ing fitted sheet though is my question?

*laughter*

Natasha: Yea, like who’s refilling the ice cube tray, come on ghost posse!

Natasha: But weirdly enough both my mom and my brother saw the same thing in the house I used to live im. They used to see this dark shadow that was darker than a shadow move across my basement wall in the same spot and they hadn't told each other until years later because my brother was a really little kid when he saw it and my mom saw it but she didn't really believe in that stuff. Then like years later my brother had mentioned it and it was really strange that they both saw the same thing without and had described the exact same thing without talking to each other about it. So that was kind of bizarre.

“Scary Music”

Dana: Next question.

Natasha: I like these questions.

Elise: I know. I’m into this I like this. This is fun.

Dana: : Let's talk about failure.

*laugher*

Natasha: Oh great! How much time do we have?

Dana: Says one of the most successful actresses working today. So what is a time that you failed spectacularly but learned a lot?

Elise:  Oh god like every day.

Natasha:  Yea, I was gonna say, every day

Elise:  Im really, this is very interesting. I have like an allergic aversion to failure. I really don't like for people to see me failing in any capacity. Which leads me to put up a front of “I've got it all together, everything's fine, dont worry about a thing”. Which is not always the case because I’m a human being and I don’t think I know any human beings who have it all together. But I was thinking about this the other day. Because the emotion I remember the strongest of being a kid is embarrassment. When I think about times I got embarrassed as a kid, I will still get a flush in my cheeks. For whatever reason, that is still such a pungent thing I can connect to being a kid and I think a driving force has been me trying to avoid that feeling. Which has led me to make safe choices a lot and do things, which really goes against my nature. By nature I’m a person who is a risk taker, who is a person who puts themselves on the line so i'm trying, it's really interesting that your bringing that up, because that’s something i’ve been thinking about a lot the past couple weeks is fearlessness and failure and wanting to really re-evaluate my relationships to those words.

Natasha: Yea, so well said. I think that I also fail on a daily basis but learn from it every time. You know it's interesting because I was also a very studious young person who always wanted to succeed and do really well at things, and I remember when you were talking about nostalgia and we were talking about choirs, I have this memory of me in this voice competition between, I took a year off between highschool and university and I was in this really serious voice competition and I had to sing like 8 different pieces all by memory and four different languages from particular years. It was the most intense thing I had ever done, this huge national competition. And in the middle of one my songs I forgot the words and I forgot the words for the first time ever in my life in the middle of this really intense competition and I stopped. And I remember I wanted to just fall and run out of the room but I just looked over the  shoulder and I looked up and I started again and then I did the rest of my piece after that and then of course immediately threw up when I left the room. I was so humiliated than I had ever been, I think that’s my most embarrassing moment that I blocked out for a long time and i’ve never been so so humiliated. But I had to stick around for hours because all these professores were adjudicating it, and I ended up coming in 1st place and I remember being so shocked and the reason why is because of how I was able to recover and it was really amazing. It was a really great lesson just when your talking about failure and what you learn from it. It was a really great lesson in that its ok to make mistakes and its ok to not be perfect and it’s really about how you dealt with it. And I remember how the professors were like “Yes, you forgot the words, but you were able to keep going, even though you wanted to cry, you were able to get through the rest of your pieces flawlessly and you composed yourself so well”. So I think that was a really good lesson in that you don't always have to thrive for perfection all the time.

Elise: Totally

Natasha: Yeah, have little universal reminders of that everyday.

Elise: Even like setting your alarm and sleeping in. I failed, i’ve already failed at the getting up at the time i said i was going to get up. Like there are moments of little failures throughout the day yea risk. That's another thing, i have to risk the failure too.

Dana: Can i share my failure with you?

Both: Yes please!

Dana: So you may know that I used to work at this website and I loved it and I was very devoted and after I did this event for this little show called Carmilla, I came home and I got a phone call from my big boss that my position was going to be eliminated. After I had worked, you know, really really hard to establish myself in this position, and I was so humiliated by it that I didn’t leave my room for 2 days.  All I could think was “i’m nothing without this job” like I cease to exist, who Dana Piccoli is ceases to exist now that this job is over. I was so worried what people would think of me, would they think that I sucked, would they think that I wasn’t good at what I was doing and I was so nervous about facing up to it. But what I think I learned through all that is that who I am is more than any job and what I do and what I’m trying to do, what I’m trying to give is bigger than all of that. And I think it really made me a stronger person, it made me a stronger writer, it made me a much more intuitive, empathic person to because I failed spectacularly in front of the internet, and the lesbian and queer internet who I had become very intimately connected with. So, that humiliation, that failure, led to me being who I am today and it's something im proud of and I’m happy with. So thats my big failure that I learned from.

Elise: Your sense of worth and external things, those things can be blown down like a house of cards in an instant and so if I haven’t developed the things that are in me then when those things do inevitably fall down, such as aging, like if I place so much value in my looks then im you know all of a sudden those by nature start to lessen. Um, then yea like I think that's just so on point what you said about how I though i didn’t have any value outside of this external thing. That's something i'm really trying to work on right now too. Like whoa  whoa, what have I placed my own value in? And then what is it actually outside of those things, you know? Yea that’s so good.

Dana: Alright, let's go into something slightly lighter than that. What's the best thing you've ever bought yourself with your own hard earned cash? Or loonies, loonies I should say!

And it doesn't have to be a big thing. But it's a thing that your like I bought this with my own damn money and hard work.

Elise: I think for me, maybe not a thing necessarily, but coming to LA for this winter, that's where I am right now, that's been a big thing for me, is taking these few months off of working to be here and really focus on what I want to be focusing on. Also I went through a brief stint of buying some really awesome New Balance sneakers and i’ve got a few pairs now and i’m just really loving my collection of sneakers.

Natasha: Oh man. I think one of the biggests misconceptions about our type of internet fame or how we got “famous” is our followers equal dollar signs

*laughter*

Dana: We know that Natasha.

Natasha: Well I was going to say, im in so much student debt because I put myself through 3 years of school that I still live paycheck to paycheck. That I would say that my ability to pay my rent every month and not worry about paying rent anymore is a really wonderful accomplishment and I also recently closed off one of my student lines of credit sooo...

Elise: Nice!

Dana: Congratulations!

Natasha: Simple, I’m like oh my credit score has gone up and improved greatly and I was able to buy myself eye glasses so that I could see again, and I might go to the dentist this week.

Dana: It’s the little things!

Natasha: Yes! So I think it’s humble adulting. And being able to adopt my doggie and take care of him responsibly. I think that's like the best thing.

Elise: Yea they can be expensive.

Natasha: Yea, they can. I mean he’s not so fancy but he’s better dressed than I am.

Dana: Mine’s costing me a fortune!

Dana: Ok so final question before I get to always final question. Where is your happy place?

Natasha: One of my happy places, because I really can’t choose just one, it depends on where i’m at in my life and what I need in that moment, you know, my happy place is most of the time on set, when i’m doing my job and doing a job that I love and i’m on set, thats like the best feeling in the world. But outside of work, I’d say, I still work at a farmers market for no real reason and I do that every 2 weeks or so or once a month with one of my best friends that I used to work in his restaurant when I was a starving artist and yea. I think just seeing the same faces i've been seeing for the last 5 years getting my hands dirty, and selling like wholesome and organic food, it's just really nice. It really is one of my happy places and I call it my therapy because for a moment I can go and like just be girl selling pie and eating delicious food and catching up on life with my friends and it’s so nice to have something that forces me to wake up in the morning and be accountable and show up. I don’t know. It really is just one of my happiest places. There's always street performers and musicians that play every week and there's always that great music like someone playing accordion and it such a Toronto thing too but it’s just so cute. There’s all these families around that are all mixed race and speaking different languages and there’s just a really nice peaceful vibe to that particular market that i enjoy. So yea, that's one of them.

Elise: I’m just a girl, standing in front of a pie, asking it to lover her.

*laughter*

Natasha: I do that every time I’m there

Elise: Ah man thats too funny. Where is my happy place? Um I went to Joshua Tree this Christmas and fell in love with it there, its so beautiful. I went rock climbing with my brother. Like any time im outdoors in nature that's when I really feel like most connected to my higher self and the planet and the universe and all that good stuff. So yea but I mean, I generally live in giant garbage ridden disgusting cities, like NY and Toronto and LA. I don’t really get that alot. So those moments when I am outdoors, like I went snowshoeing up on these mountains with my friends in BC over Christmas and yea those are def my happy places.

Dana: You guys are such beautiful souls.

Elise: Someone just recently, not told me, because I knew they existed but baths man! Baths are so underrated. I haven't had a bath since I was kid probably….Natasha’s face right now is like ugh ugh. But baths are just so relaxing! I had one the other night and I was like this is really great. You guys are so not on board, just trust me! Put some epsom salt, light a couple of candles, you might surprise yourself.

Natasha: No. I’ve tried to take baths all the time and i've just accepted that i don't enjoy them. Everytime i do it im like why am I forcing myself to do this? Because i'm going to be like 30 in a few years and society tells us that women loves baths. Like, no.

Dana: Not only do we love baths, we love eating yogurt in baths.

Natasha: Yea

Dana: All I  can think about is getting epsom salts up my who-ha, that’s not relaxing to me.

Natasha: No, sitting in my own filth and having to stare at my naked body and like accept my body issues is absolutely not! And also being confined to a small space and being wet, im not about like water, im like no, no.

*laughter*

Dana: So to hell with your bath Elise, your happy place.

Elise: Well thanks for ruining my happy place.

Dana: We just made it a sad place.

Natasha: Hey to each their own, no judgment. I get the concept of the bath

Dana: You guys are heading to Vegas, soon, as am I. As are the many people who are listening to this. Was last year your first time in Vegas?

Natasha: It was.

Elise: It was indeed.

Dana: So I always ask everyone at the end of the podcast, what their favorite things about Vegas are and what would they recommend? I know your guys were really busy and you didn’t have a lot of downtime, but did you get to do anything where you were like, this is kind of crazy fun!?

Natasha: We had a really nice time in the artist alley. We went to some cool vintage shops and went to a really nice cafe, that I think was really more our speed. Elise and I are really similar in that we take our jobs pretty seriously and want to be in high spirits, so I feel like all the bartenders and like restaurant folks hated us because we were like “We’ll just have water and a salad.”

*laughter*

Natasha: And went in at like 10 every night but I did see a Cirque du Soleil show that was incredible! I saw “Love” and i’m so glad that i did it. I was like when in rome, im going to go see a show even though it was past my bedtime and...

Elise: I was so mad I didn’t go to that.

Natasha: Yea, like the word spectacle, that's what it was, it was spectacular. Cirque du Soleil is always amazing but the fact that it’s in a theater that's built specifically for the show, everything was seamless and flawless, from the lighting design to like even the technical cues, like someone in a booth cue-ing them up and they’re seamless. The dancing was amazing. I saw “Love” so it’s all Beatles music, which I love so much, so yea it was really fantastic. I hope I get to see another show this year.

Elise: I’ll be down, lets go, lets do it.

Natasha: The performances were just like really really amazing. I also just love the desert. I love dry climate and I love desert life but I’m not as into debauchery as my. I don't know what it is man, I don't know what people think im like.

Dana: I’ve spent numerous evening and experiences with you and I would never describe you as debaucherous.

*laugher*

Natasha: No, i know i know! I think I had a brief moment in time like 7-6 years ago and then I was like cool, im good

*laughter*

Dana: So what about you Elise, besides the slot machines?

Elise: Artist alley was pretty rad, there's all these crazy old vintage stores just chalk full of weird Vegas antiques.

Natasha: Yeah.

Elise: So that was pretty cool. The strip itself is not really my jam, but I don’t know, I mean I’m not really there to see, im more there to meet people and hang out and yea. Im really looking forward to it, Vegas was such a good time last year.

Natasha: Yea, I mean I enjoyed the convention itself so much, I think its my most favorite one I’ve done so.

Dana: Oh yay!

Natasha: I’m really looking forward to it again this year, more than the city. It could be anywhere and I would enjoy it.

Dana: Do you hear that ClexaCon? Next year we could be in Iowa!

Elise: Let’s not push things Dana

*laughter*

Dana: No offense Iowa! I’ve been to you, you’re lovely. Well thank you to the two of you, you are always so thoughtful and interesting and funny and i’ve probably interviewed you guys a gazillion times but it's always a new and interesting experience!

Elise: Thank you for having us, this was fun!

Natasha: Yeah you always have the best questions!

Elise: You really do, we sometimes have the same questions all the time.

Dana: I know you do so you going to see the 3 of us, well the 2 of them and i'll be there too at the Hollstein panel at ClexaCon. Not sure what day it is yet but they're going to be there. And where can our listeners find you on social media if they aren't already following you, which im sure they are

Elise: @baumanelise and that is now both the same on Instagram and Twitter because I was a baby when I made my twitter and it involved numbers and it really didn't need too so it's all matching now.

Natasha: You can find me on Instagram and Twitter @natvanlis, my first name and then my last name mushed together! That’s it!

*laughter*

Dana: Oh well, you guys have a wonderful next couple of what... we have less than 60 days until ClexaCon?

Natasha: Really? Time flies.

Elise: I gotta start packing.

Dana: It does. I know right? I have all my outfits planned out. I have a spreadsheet with my outfits on it.

Natasha: That’s impressive! Can you come over and do that for me please?

Elise: Organizational queen-ness right there!  That is awesome.

Natasha: That's amazing. Elise and I usually have a crisis the night before amd

call each other or meet up in our hotel rooms and up wearing like running shoes and a t-shirt

Dana: Please! You guys looked amazing last year.

Elise: Looking back on what I've worn, it really does look like there's not been a lot of planning in there.

Dana: You goobers. Every time I've seen you you look amazing.

I’m going pink, so the next time you see me i'll have dark pink, ombre hair so crossing my finger that that works out

Natasha: oooohhh! I hope it works out better than my bangs.

*laughter*

That is going to do it for this episode of “unCONventional”. Thank you so much for listening!

Are really liking “unCONventional”? Then do a us favor and leave a review, tell some friends, tweet about it, we’d really really appreciate it. You can find ClexaCon on Twitter, Facebook and tumblr @clexacon. You can find me, Dana Piccoli on Twitter @dandpiccoli. And our theme music, our wonderful theme music is by Stephanie Berlanga and you can find her at stephanieberlangamusic.com. We are so close you guys, we are so so close, we are going to have one more episode  before the show and planning to do a live taping like I mentioned last week so looking forward very much to that. Until the next time we meet, here's Dana Piccoli swearing fealty to you.

[eternaljohnlock]

16. ? 😊

16.) Who was your first crush?

Oh boy, here we go. 

When I was in seventh grade, I developed a crush on The Most Popular boy in school, and his name was Jake. (If you frequently read my tags, you already know where this is going.) He was always dating The Most Beautiful and Popular girl in school, was a soccer player and a drummer in the school band, and didn’t even know I existed. But then, we were sitting in class together one day, and we discovered that we were born on the same day, eight hours apart (he’s older.) From that day on, I was on Jake’s radar, but he treated me like his kid sister. It was enough for me.

Fast forward five years. My crush has only grown, and Jake flirts from time to time, but he’s always dating some other girl and frankly, I’ve given up on ever being more than friends. But then, a few things happen. Jake breaks his leg. Goodbye soccer, goodbye crazy-popular friends. And then, he joins marching band.

LET ME TELL YOU A THING. I was fucking OBSESSED with marching band. It was my life. His joining changed everything. We became best friends. He briefly dated a colorguard member, but I could tell he had interest in me.

He dumped her. Asked me to prom. We started dating just before high school ended.

I went to college far away. His attention span was short–as I should have learned from this story. We broke up after a brief but intense 8-month stint.

So yes, I’m very lucky in that I got to date my celebrity crush of six years. We were madly in love. But shit happens, and it’s been a year and a half since it all fell apart, and I’ve only recently come back to myself. So yeah, be careful with your heart, but also—don’t. I was never happier than I was that year, and it was fucking worth it.

Sorry that explanation was so long, but everyone likes to hear a good underdog story! Thanks for asking, nonny!

From this post.

[directionlessbuthappy]

Dawn of the Draugr: p3

Modern AU: Alex H. Anderson x Reader

Warnings: depictions of violence

Prev. part

Tagged: @missrobyn81 @steadypiepsychicflower

Alex was the youngest and only a few months younger than me. David was second oldest, then there's Marco, Jordan, and Alexander, who we stuck 'Xander' to for short. Xander was the oldest, way older than Alex, by something around 15 years. I never asked specifically. Frankly, it seemed impolite.

I sat down after Jordan pulled up a chair from the dining room. The brothers were all gathered around in the living room.

"Elyse...how's it...going," Jordan managed to croak out. He looked shocked I was here. Oddly enough we always got along. Probably because he was the more responsible one out of his brothers, and I was the one always breaking up their fights. Mutual parental bonding.

"About as well as...actually, I take that back," I replied. "How long have you guys been here? Its a mess in here!"

It was true, and I wasn't being picky about it. The place had beer bottles everywhere, guns and ammo strung about on all the tables and counter tops. It looked like the Mafia threw a party and we were all sitting in the aftermath.

"Leave it to a girl," Alex snorted. I shot him a glare but kept quiet; I was still grateful I suppose.

"Been about a month," Marco commented. "How long have you been home?"

"I haven't left," I shrugged. "I was going to Westview Community a few months ago, but when shit started getting out of hand they shut down the school. Funding quit. How about you guys?"

The brothers all looked between each other. Maybe looking for answers, maybe not, but it made me uncomfortable. I stood up to ease the tension. Alex spoke up first after a swig of his beer.

"I've been back for about three months," he shrugged. Finally David spoke up.

"I just passed police academy in Brixton. I was gonna graduate last week..."

"And I came to see him walk the stage. Took time off from the hospital," Marco interjected. I remember, vaguely, Marco has gotten his EMT license last year (I saw it on Facebook). "Xander and Jordan got..."

"Shut up dude," Jordan interrupted. I looked at him questioningly but he shot me a look that said not to ask. Still, after that, he smiled.

"We're glad to see you Leesy," Jordan said warmly. I swallowed, tasting the many questions I had but knowing better.

"Want a drink?"

"Sure..."

Alex disappeared into the kitchen. I looked around, seeing pictures alongside maps and things along the walls of their living room. I walked towards the wall that had the TV hung to it. Maps, pictures, a few screenshots of some livestreams I’d never seen, all clung to the wall with tape.

"You guys really...fortified the place."

"Its hardly a place to hold up for long," Marco nodded uncertainly. "We were actually planning on taking a roadtrip."

"A...roadtrip?" I asked incredulously. "What, to the beach? To get a tan in between getting your arms eaten off?"

They all looked at me with much less apprehension now, and I even heard Xander chuckle. 

"Nice picture Elyse," David said. I scowled at him.

"We're driving out to our aunt and uncle's. They've got a farm down outside of Strawberry we used to visit as kids. Its up on a hill overlooking this giant valley. Perfect place to defend."

"Its a good idea," I shrugged. Strawberry was a very small town, so I can only imagine how empty the outskirts of such a town are now. Or at least, will be...

"You gonna tell her what you had for breakfast too?" Xander mumbled. My eyes trailed over to him; the eldest of them had such a pissed off expression all the time.

"I wasn't going to ask. You know Xander, I thought that stick up your ass would wear off when we were younger. Guess it just went deeper."

Marco and David were laughing at least. Jordan looked amused and smiled but kept relevantly quiet while Alex returned with a beer bottle, top cracked off.

"So," he started, sitting down next to me after I took the bottle. I sat back down as well. "What's persuaded you to stay in this fine neighborhood?"

"Convenience," I shrugged. "I have no where else to go until...er, if, my mom comes back."

Alex swallowed hard while everyone listened to my short retelling of how I ended up sticking around here. Nobody asked specifics, nor did I ask anything about their parents. It felt good to talk to people again. Strangely, it weighs on you to be alone for the few weeks I was by myself. We went into talking about my schooling; I was nearly done with my science and medicine based courses, about to go into school for veterinary medicine. Alex was going to photography school in Denmark. He loved photography; ran the only photography club that's ever existed in our high school. He posted his acceptance letter to a college out in Denmark last summer. My mom insisted on me dropping off cookies to congratulate him; he was grateful, it was awkward.

"Why'd you come home?" I asked. "Seems like I'd feel safer in a small, freezing European country."

"Copenhagen's a big city. Too many people to be around in these times," he replied. Jordan swallowed hard; he was sitting across from me, so I could hardly miss it. I swallowed and glanced at a notebook on their coffee table.

"You guys have a lot of weapons here..." 

Alex looked over at the dining table, covered in metal. "Oh. Yeah, Xander's a collector of this kinda stuff."

"You've...had to use some of them?" I asked. A few of the men chuckled.

"Well, yeah," Alex shrugged. "No use having them all if we don't know how to use them. The draugr aren’t going anywhere."

"Draugr?" I said with a crunched nose.

"You've got a lot of questions, huh Elyse?" Jordan said. He leaned forward in his seat.

"I've had a lot since my mom left. I've seen...things."

"So have we," Xander replied stoically. "But you've survived this long. Better learn how to do more of that."

I glance at Alex, but kept my hands in my lap and remain silent. The beer was numbing the insides of my legs.

"Whats a draugr?"

"Them," Alex nodded. "The people who got sick. The dead that walk."

"What?" I gasped. "They're not...dead. You can't come back from the dead, that's just fantasy stuff."

"The virus shuts your heart down and restarted your brain after a two to twenty four hour stasis. What do you call it when the heart stops?" Marco asked.

"Flatlining?"

Marco laughed pretty hard at that one, but I wasn't trying to be funny. In fact I felt offended for a moment until Alex touched my shoulder.

"Trust me, Lees. They're dead. Gone. Once they get sick, they die and come back to 'life' until you hit em again," he said. "So I take to calling them draugr. Its from some old mythology stuff. Another word for the dead. Plus its better than Marco's name for them."

Mythology seemed plausible in our current situation. I glanced at his older brother. "What was your name for them?"

"Assholes," Marco shrugged. I actually got a laugh out of that, however brief it was. Looking over at the table again I bit my lip in thought.

"Can you guys...teach me how to use one of those things?" I asked. Jordan shrugged, looking around at his brothers for their opinions. Alex spoke up before even glancing at them.

"Sure!"

"But," Xander stopped him. "They're not for rent. Whenever you use them, you bring em back before you go home."

Alex scoffed. "You're staying the night. That way you don't have to go back in the dark. Alone." That last word he emphasized, looking at his eldest brother with a smirk. Xander turned his head in annoyance.

"Sure," I agreed. "I'd prefer that. Feels...safer here."

With that, Alex popped out of his seat. "Follow me then," he said. I obliged, setting my beer down to keep my seat warm while we went up the hallway.

"We've taken to sort of a camp out style of sleeping. We rotate where we sleep so two people are always sleeping in the living room," he said. I watched his shoulders while we walked; he had some sort of Danish band labeled on the back of it, but I knew the front was simply black. It suited him. We went into the left door next to the very back door. A rush of cedar and shampoo smell hit me as we entered Alex's room.

He had the walls painted black. Probably from that stint in high school he had where he only wore black, only listened to Korn. I knew that because his headphones were always so loud you could hear them over the chatter in the hallway between classes.

"I don't suppose you'd let me take the living room as payment for letting me stay the night?" I wagered. Alex laughed at me.

"No way. You're staying in here. I'm taking the couch," he scoffed. I wandered into the room for a moment, remembering where my backpack was, but before I left to get it I paused. Seeing pictures of family along his wall, it was obvious Alex had taken these shots.

"Wow...you're good," I said without facing him. Alex walked up next to me to look. 

"Thanks. These were from post graduation. Didn't have any real schooling yet," he chuckled. The picture of his mom lined up with three of her boys, Alex being behind the camera, was one of my favorites so far. David was in his graduation getup, cap and gown, while Marco was dressed casually, and Jordan was in camo gear. I vaguely remember him going into the marines right after high school...

"Alex." He turned to me; I was already looking at him.

"What happened to your mom?"

His eyes darted away from me, back to the pictures on the wall. Alex tried swallowing the lump in his throat while the back of his neck turned red. "I'd rather not say. Lets just...I'll tell you some other time."

[mindwideopen]

Spoiler alert: If you haven’t seen and are interested in seeing the movie, “altered states” without knowing the outcome, this kinda sorrrrta gives it away... read at your own discretion.)

Oh no... altered states. Well, it is Saturday night, so I guess it’s ok...

William hurt..... what? He hurt, a goat, by eating it alive, while he was a caveman, in this movie from 1980. Ok, he didn’t. His character did though. professor Edward Jessup did all that craziness, just to find himself.

I was younger, so I didn’t see it in the theater, but holy crazy fish behind him, peyote tea and native men’s spit and his blood drinking shit! This movie, is freaky fantastic! William hurt and Blair Brown? Awesome. And my favorite, his red headed bearded friend from “hill street blues” that screams at him the entire movie. I think that he has screamed in every movie I’ve ever seen him in... wait! I have to look up his name.... please hold... ok, he’s got a really cool name. He’s Charles Maurice Haid III. That’s badass! He’s a 3rd! Not of a man, he is a 3rd generation him! That’s cool! I mean that sincerely. I’m up to the 6th or 7th version of myself. We all develop and evolve over time. But in this movie, William Hurt did not evolve. He devolved. Look:

This is what happens when you don’t move with your personal evolution. Not so pretty. No offense to him, or the actor double. But you become, insane, and upset with other drivers on the road with you, or, in this case, turn into a Neanderthal, break into a zoo, and eat a goat. It shows up differently in us all. For me, it’s the feeling of being stuck, and stifled in my present life situation, usually having to do with my creativity.

I was an actor/singer/performer for around 20 years. It was a thing I did, and will always be a part of the whole of me. Then, after my son was born, I ventured into the world of interior design, first apprenticing a tad, and then, jumped straight in with both feet. Then, I did all kinds of things to try to avoid my creative performance roots. I drew, I danced (a form of performance I love, but professionally? Not stretchy, strong or versed enough...) but, I loved it just the same, and dickered with the idea of being a teacher of an aspect of it. All of these things I say to tell you, the reader, that I am lost, like a lot of people feel. I am a woman who left a whole host of things I have once done, in disappointment, and am now once again, reevaluating my place in society, and the world as a whole.

When I was in high school I secretly always wanted to be an actor. Well, not so secrectly to some, but I got rejected for the first audition I took in high school. It was “the wiz”. They took one look at me, and I was a no. I never auditioned for any plays after that in high school. I am a pretty resolute person. Also, fairly pig headed about rejection. “Oh, you don’t want me?! Well then... bye!” As long as I can remember, I’ve always been like that.

So yeah, I’m kinda a scaredy-cat. Cause rejection hits me hard. So hard sometimes I can’t look back at it easily. Somehow I got back into acting. I think it was due to a conversation I had with a good friend named bob. He helped me get back into the game, after spending 2 years in my home, hiding.

I started my career slowly, but I worked steadily. The jobs were good, some more fun than others, but somewhere deep inside I’d me never felt satiated with just one thing. I was pretty envious of people who worked in their jobs, for years, feeling good that they chose the right path. I felt pretty much like an outsider most of my life. And sometimes it’s really hard to blend in, when your beliefs dictate otherwise. Looking back I’m pretty sure I was the reason for my demise everywhere, with my attitude about what I was doing, but regret doesn’t serve anyone, so I’m deciding to look back more neutrally these days. It was was it was, and it’s gotten me to where I am, and who I’ve become, now.

Professor Edward Jessup was a professor of psychology in the movie, “altered states”. I toyed with the idea of becoming a sexologist (not a joke) for a brief stint. I had a great professor in college that was encouraging, and one himself. I knew, deep down, that I would be bored, even though sex was cool, but performing is what I wanted to do ever since I was little. But as you grow, you evolve, and change, and become more, and different even if you decide to do the same thing you’re whole life.

I’m a semi restless person sometimes. I get bored easily. I want more, and fun, always if I can help it. I’ve just become this more recently, the “demanding of fun” part. Cause I figure it’s important to be that way, for me, and everyone around me on a daily basis. And fun, can lead to great ideas. So I write now. I write a ton, for myself, to myself. I explore me, and how I can create the me I’ve always wanted to be. I’ve decided to look at 2020 differently. Yes, on a way it was not the greatest, but I feel like it was definitely a win for me, because I have learned the subtleties of myself; what I will accept and won’t, but also, how to still be a loving person throughout these situations. I still love and respect myself, but at the same time, all the people in which I’ve had differences of opinion, which is new for me. I’ve learned how to bring more peace to myself, in the midst of chaos. Am I perfect? Hell no, but it’s better. And that’s a promising trajectory for sure. So I’m still a scaredy-cat, but now with a semi decent coping mechanism... within myself.

professor Edward Jessup struggled in this movie to find the essence of who he really was. He was convinced that it was a secret locked within himself that needed to be extracted with gadgets, electrodes and an isolation tank. With peyote, and mystic tribal men, chanting. In his case, he found out a lot about himself, not all great, depending on your point of view. But one thing he did find, is love. His very brilliant and patient with his nut ball self wife, the saint, played by Blair Brown. They married, he left, she left, he went insane, but she never stopped caring about him. She was there for him, during his “evolution” into a loving person.

My life, isn’t dissimilar. I’ve evolved into a more that I now can fully appreciate. I do love, and I do care, even when that love isn’t reciprocated. And I do it for others for sure, but more importantly, much like professor Edward Jessup, who was no longer by the end of this movie, for myself because I want to feel good in my life. And I’ve finally decided that that feeling of love was more important than holding on to hurt....sometimes. You’re catching me in a fairly decent, lucid mood. 😉 But love is something that can heal the lost, and find you in a much better place, if you’re willing to recognize and embrace it. His wife was a willing participant in the love, and that support pulled him through.

Self love is where it starts, but love is a community thing, and the world of humanity is our shared community. So love is an experience better shared. With all this Covid crap, coupled with the fact that I’ve fallen out with 87% of the people in my life, I miss people. But it’s nice to know that there’s always another choice, and a chance to love. Love is universal, and love is a practice. I need more practice, but I’m getting there. I mean, it could be worse. I could be a live goat eating prehistoric man like William Hurt was. But if it does happen to me, I’ll be sure to try relish that the best I can too, cause you only live once as far as I know, so you may as well enjoy the ride, as fucked up as that would be. 🙈🤷‍♀️🤣

[meetmeatthecoda]

Happy holidays!

Surprise, @unruhigwandern, I’m your Secret Santa! :D I wrote you a fic based on what you told me you liked and the things you include in your own writing... I really hope you like it! :)) The fic is set about 6 months after Liz wakes up from her coma, Red and Liz have been in an established relationship for about 5 months, and Agnes is about two and a half. But take all that with a grain of salt, timelines are not my forte. :) Basically, Liz and Red are having some personal, emotional problems this Christmas (based on canon events like Tom’s death and Red’s past) and that leads to some miscommunication and angst in their relationship. I’ve called it “Ghosts of Christmases Past”, hopefully that’s not too cheesy! :) There is a lot of hurt/comfort and some fluff at the end because I couldn’t resist! :D This also turned out to be the longest one shot I’ve ever written so that’s a bit of an accomplishment :) I’m also going to post this on FF.net and Ao3 tonight in case you’d prefer to read it there but I’m putting it under the cut here for now! So yeah, I really hope you like your gift, and Happy Holidays to you and yours!! :) Much love! <3

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house…”

Liz stands at the stove, stirring a saucepan full of water, cocoa, and sugar absentmindedly, listening to Red’s dulcet tones reading to Agnes in her bedroom.

Christmas is in a week.

Agnes, now nearing two and a half, is only aware of excitement in the air and impending presents. Her favorite bedtime story at the moment is “The Night Before Christmas”, regardless of the date, and Red is more than happy to indulge her by reading it night after night.

He loves to spoil her.

“The children were nestled all snug in their beds…”

Agnes has a very specific idea of which parent should read each book and “The Night Before Christmas” was designated Red’s five nights ago when Agnes asked for a “Santa story” and he pulled it off the shelf. She was asleep before the end, of course, (Red’s deep voice never failed to lull her to sleep within half an hour), but the beginning at least had stuck with her and she had asked for the story again the next night.

And every night after.

Liz expects that Red will be stuck reading it until at least Christmas day, if not longer, but she knows he won’t mind. He cherishes his surrogate father duties like she never thought he would.

Red.

Liz sighs a little dreamily and goes to fetch the milk from the fridge, snagging a measuring cup from a drawer on her way back to the stove.

Red and Liz had dived straight into a relationship not long after she woke up from her coma six months ago. Liz figures that the final tipping point had been a combination of Red taking such good care of Agnes while Liz couldn’t and him being there for every step of her recovery. She seemed to have woken up with a new appreciation for Red and everything he’s done for her over the years. And seeing the bond he had forged with Agnes in her absence just cemented the fact that she cared more for him than she ever thought she would.

They have been together officially for only a few months but it feels to Liz like much longer. Their new relationship hadn’t felt new at all, simply moving from one level of intimacy to the next. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. They are now living together, the three of them, as normally as they can and they haven’t looked back since.

Red has become such a father to Agnes, filling a hole that Liz and Agnes hadn’t quite realized was there, and Liz can’t imagine someone better for them. He has been there every step of the way (sometimes more so than Liz) and has taken over all the fatherly duties that Agnes needed, from nighttime drug store runs to visits to the zoo to bedtime stories.

“When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter…”

Liz certainly doesn’t mind Red taking over story time for the time being. Agnes had a long stint of “Guess How Much I Love You” and no one could read it to her except Liz and that had meant more to Liz than Agnes could ever realize. So, Liz figures it’s Red’s turn to read and it suits her just fine. It gives Liz some time to think.

Things between her and Red have been truly wonderful in a way she has never experienced with anyone but lately things have been…off. Liz first noticed it around the first week of December, initially dismissing it as phase of Red’s, deciding not to worry about it. But now, a week before Christmas, Liz can’t deny it anymore.

Red is being clingy.

He’s not only intruding on her personal boundaries and space but more so wanting to be nowhere but where she is. Ordinarily, Liz wouldn’t mind this at all. In fact, normally it would be the opposite.

Liz turns down the fire on the stovetop burner, continuing to stir the brown, sweet-smelling mixture, staring pensively at the swirling liquid.

It’s true that with her previous relationships, she would be the one to ask for space, pushing her partner away if they were too close too often. In some cases, that was the sole reason for her breakups. It had been a frequent problem with some of her early flings with high school and college boyfriends and even occasionally with Nik, who had a habit of overwhelming her. (That was half the reason she had gravitated toward Tom in the first place.) She hadn’t had this problem with Tom, however, who liked a fair amount of space himself. This fact was certainly one of the reasons she thought they were so perfectly matched.

(How naïve she had been.)

Liz truly not had thought that this clingy behavior that had so bothered her in her past relationships would be a problem with Red. In part, this was because from the moment they got together (and, if she was honest with herself, a fair amount of time before that), she didn’t want to be parted from Red. Perhaps it was all the death-defying things they had been through together or maybe the fact that they had spent so long dancing around each other, but they wanted to be together all the time. Liz knows that it’s still relatively early in the relationship, however much it may not feel like it, but she had felt that up to now, it was a sign of how strong her and Red’s relationship was: she wasn’t getting tired of him.

Liz delighted in Red’s closeness and he seemed to do the same, as they spent time together literally whenever they could, either with Agnes or without. It didn’t matter where, when, or how; they just wanted to be together.

“With a little old driver, so lively and quick…”

But then December hit and Red got very close very fast. And Liz is uneasy about it. She doesn’t like the fact that she feels this way. She likes feeling that he was never close enough, she’s happy that way. She’s angry at herself for wanting space and she certainly doesn’t want to hurt Red by telling him this.

Even so, this doesn’t feel like the other times she’s wanted to get away from a boyfriend. At those times, she had simply grow tired of them and wanted something new. This time, however, she feels distinctly ill at ease, like she’s fighting something and trying to find her way back to Red. Usually, he can sense when this happens and he backs off a little, trying to give her time and space to work things out herself. This happened many times after she awoke from her coma, when she simply needed time to think through the events that had changed her life so completely. But those mental blocks only lasted a few days at most and this odd funk she found herself in was getting worse every day.

And so was Red.

Liz continues to stir mechanically. She is using this story time to try and channel her inner psychologist (who has been dormant for far too long) and consider what is disturbing her, what is preventing her from accepting Red’s attention. What could possibly be different right now from the past few months when she has delighted in Red’s company?

Well, it’s the holidays, for one thing. That can be stressful, of course, but Liz feels nothing but excitement, mostly for Agnes and their first Christmas together as a stable family unit.

Hm.

Family unit. And first Christmas. That’s not exactly true, is it? Agnes is two and she’s had another Christmas before this one. It wasn’t very special, as things had been hectic at the time, what with work and Tom and all the drama that came with those things. Just a few presents and a brief celebratory dinner, mostly store bought. Nothing festive. In fact, Liz is rather glad that Agnes probably won’t remember it. Tom hadn’t even –

Tom.

Oh.

That’s the difference, Liz realizes suddenly, the spoon she’s holding drifting to a stop in the pan. Why did it take her so long to realize that Tom isn’t here this Christmas? She realized on a conscious level, of course, that he was gone, and she’d accepted that long ago. Things had been wrong between her and Tom long before his death and Red had calmly explained the reasons behind his murder and Liz is well aware that it was partially his own fault. She had held on to some residual anger at his motives for putting her and Agnes in danger despite being warned repeatedly by Red to let things go but she had realized soon that there was no point. Tom was gone and at least they’d had a chance to make some peace before he’d died. He was out of their lives now and they were probably better for it.

But, be that as it may, he hasn’t been gone for a whole year yet and Liz is apparently still feeling his absence during this time of year that had once been special to them. After all, for the four years before Agnes was born, she and Tom had been together every Christmas, celebrating as a married couple. Liz hadn’t known the truth about Tom at that point, how could she, and she had genuinely enjoyed those years with him.

Now, the first Christmas after his death, she finally sees the Tom-shaped hole she has been trying to identify for days. It is not a gaping, raw thing. She’s not mourning him by any means - her mourning period for Tom was blessedly brief – and anyway the time for that has long since passed. This hole is a cold, dark thing, peaceful but still there, regardless of her current feelings, and apparently Liz still has some adjusting to do, as much as she may loath the necessity of it.

She feels better now, lets out a little breath she didn’t quite know she was holding in, but her uneasiness is nowhere near resolved. She has identified the problem but she has not addressed the issue (boy, she’s stretching her psych muscles now). What she really needs is time to herself to think –

But Liz is startled out of her revelations by a pair of familiar hands at her waist. She takes in a sharp breath purely out of surprise, and quickly relaxes into Red’s grip, feeling a certain amount of comfort from his touch.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Red murmurs in her ear, his lips running lightly around the edge.

“That’s okay,” Liz says, trying for lightness but feeling a little like she’s forcing the words out, trying to shake the lingering fog of her realizations. “Is Agnes asleep?”

“Yes. She almost made it to the end of the book tonight. St. Nicholas was just bounding down the chimney when she drifted off…”

Liz smiles, managing to relax at the mention of Agnes, leaning back into Red as his arms drift to wrap loosely around her waist. “You must know that thing by heart by now.”

“Pretty much,” Red mutters, chuckling a little. “But I don’t mind. That smells good by the way.” He adds, peering over Liz’s shoulder at the simmering hot chocolate in the pan.

“Thanks,” Liz says. “I’m getting pretty good, I think. Haven’t burned a batch for a few nights.”

It has become rather a nightly holiday tradition of theirs, drinking hot chocolate together after Agnes has gone to sleep. It is a chance for them to relax at the end of the day, winding down from the day-long high that comes from caring for a two-year-old. Red has been particularly gracious in drinking even her early batches of hot chocolate where she somehow managed to scorch the chocolate before she even added any milk.

But Red never complains.

“That’s right,” he says now. “You’re doing quite well. Improving in leaps and bounds, just as I knew you would. I think it will be hard to top last night’s batch though. It was the best yet.”

“Well, let’s see. I think this is ready. Can you grab the mugs?”

Red nods, squeezing her waist lightly before going to the cabinet to fetch their Christmas themed mugs, his with Santa Claus and hers with a snowman. Liz uses the free moment to try to shove her realizations about Tom to the back of her mind. She’ll deal with them later.

This is her and Red’s time.

Red carefully pours the hot chocolate in their mugs while Liz grabs the marshmallows she likes to add to her cocoa and heads to the couch, turning out the main lights on her way. Her and Red have taken to sitting tangled together under a blanket with their warm beverages, only the multicolored lights adorning the Christmas tree and the bright white string lights hung over the doorway illuminating them, enjoying the closeness the semi-darkness provides. They talk quietly together or sometimes just sit in silence, cuddling until they are sleepy enough to move to their bedroom.

Red joins her now, letting her get settled under the blankets before handing her mug to her and then making himself comfortable, sitting very close to her and taking her hand. They enjoy their drinks mostly in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It is enjoyable for the first little while (Liz has missed Red today) but after their mugs are empty and moved to the coffee table and Red pulls Liz close to press his nose into her hair, Liz can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable.

The longer they sit there, the more her unease pushes at her, the more she longs to be alone to sort through everything she’s feeling. The sooner she deals with it, the sooner it will be over and she can enjoy her time with Red as she usually does. But Red is so close to her and no matter how far she tries to surreptitiously tries to move from him, he simply closes the distance with a content hum.

He won’t stop crowding her.

Liz desperately tries to push the unease away, at least for tonight.

She can deal with it all tomorrow.

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

As it turns out, she can’t.

She wakes in bed with Red wrapped around her. She showers with Red at the sink brushing his teeth. She feeds Agnes with Red sitting next to her. She eats breakfast while Red plays with Agnes at the table. She has playtime with Agnes on the floor with Red sitting above them on the couch. She reads on the couch during Agnes’ nap time with Red’s head in her lap. She entertains Agnes while he fixes snack time in the kitchen. She takes Agnes on a walk in the park with Red’s arm wrapped around them both at all times. She makes dinner while Agnes is in her bouncy chair with Red cutting and chopping and simmering at her side. And Liz would have had story time to herself but Agnes requested both of them in her room that night and how could Liz deny her baby girl? Then Red and Liz have their hot chocolate and its bed again, where Red pulls her into his arms and doesn’t let go until morning.

Liz can’t believe it.

The next day is much the same except for Liz’s rising irritation and anxiety. Red won’t leave her alone for a second and she doesn’t know why. He has never been like this before, going out of his way to spend literally every second at least in the same room as her, if not touching in some way. Liz knows she would be flattered and grateful for the attention if she didn’t have her huge unresolved issues nagging at her all the time. If she could just get away from Red for a few hours, maybe she could sort out her confusing feelings.

Liz ponders while giving Agnes her bath for the night, Red sitting on their bed where he can see them both through the open bathroom door. Liz alternates between playfully splashing her giggling girl and desperately trying to figure out what she can do to be alone tomorrow. What could she possibly do five days before Christmas and where…

Christmas.

Shopping.

Liz almost smacks herself in the forehead. Of course. She can go Christmas shopping. At least, that’s what she’ll tell Red she’s doing. She’s already got everything for Agnes, tucked safely in the closet, and she’s got Red’s present, hidden carefully in her nightstand.

But Red doesn’t know that.

She’ll tell him she’s going shopping for him. That should unglue him from her side for at least a few hours.

Red loves surprises.

She’ll take Agnes as well. She likes the mall and Liz could use the touchstone of her happy daughter in her arms while she’s sorting through her confusing feelings.

Yes. That’s what she’ll do.

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

“But where are you going?” Red is pacing anxiously around the living room, holding Agnes tightly in his arms. Liz watches him from kitchen where she is slowly and methodically cleaning their breakfast plates, completely baffled by his behavior.

“I told you, out,” says Liz, trying her best to be patient. “It is almost Christmas, you know. I’m allowed to have some secrets.” She turns to smile teasingly at him but he doesn’t meet her gaze. She frowns.

“Well, why can’t I go with you?” Red demands, a little rudely.

Liz turns back to the plate she’s washing, channeling her annoyance into the sponge, scrubbing a little harder than necessary.

“Jeez, Red, normally you can read between the lines a little better than this. I’m going Christmas shopping for you, that’s why you can’t come, okay?”

She figured he’d perk up a little at that but for some reason it only makes him pace faster, striding back and forth across the small room now, pulling Agnes closer to him and stroking her hair. Agnes, who has just had play time and is almost ready for a nap, can sense Red’s uneasiness and is starting to fuss. Red rubs her back distractedly and she settles down a little but Liz can still see that pout on her lips that warns of incoming tears.

“But why can’t Dembe or Baz go out and make your purchases for you?” he presses.

Liz grits her teeth, now truly starting to lose her patience and probably taking a layer off the plate in the process.

“Because I don’t know what I’m getting you yet. I’m just gonna wander around the mall until I’m inspired or something, okay? Why are you being so difficult about this?” she snaps.

At that, Red whips around. “I’m being difficult? Why are you being so cagey?”

Liz gives up and tosses the plate in the sink, turning to face him. “I’m not being cagey! I’m being honest, I’m just unprepared for Christmas, is that a crime?” she’s raised her voice without realizing and now Agnes is starting to whimper in Red’s arms.

Red’s eyes flash with anger.

“I just don’t think there’s any reason for you to go alone so why can’t –”

“I just don’t understand why you think I need protection everywhere I go so I don’t –”

Their voices start to overlap as they get going and Agnes starts to cry.

“God damn it, Red!” Liz yells over them both, frustrated and upset. “You are smothering me!”

Red, who had been about to fire back with something, snaps his jaw shut, looking at her with curiously accusing, wet eyes.

“All right then,” he murmurs, frighteningly quiet all of a sudden. “Here.” He moves toward Liz and hands her Agnes who is now beside herself, wailing, with tears streaming down her face.

(Liz has to ignore the tug in her heart at how gently he handles Agnes, despite the anger he obvious feels, carefully pulling her little hands free where they are gripping his shirt and placing her lovingly in Liz’s arms, a hand ghosting soothingly over her hair before he moves away.)

“I’ll just give you some room to breathe, then, shall I?”

And he grabs his coat and hat and walks right out the door.

Liz barely makes it to the couch before she collapses, the anger swiftly draining out of her, Agnes crying into her shoulder. Liz presses kisses into her daughter’s hair and tries to console her but it’s difficult.

Liz is crying right along with her.

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

Liz holds out for three days, moping around the apartment feeling sorry for herself while, at the same time, trying to console Agnes, who starts asking for Red the moment she wakes up the next day.

“Red, Red!”

“Red’s not here, baby, he had to go away.”

“Chris-muss?”

“I don’t know if he’ll be back for Christmas, hon.”

And Liz has to quickly distract Agnes with a toy or a snack before she starts crying.

Liz uses the first day to sort through her feelings, eventually, without any fanfare, reconciling with Tom’s absence while lying alone in bed that night. She simply realizes that different does not necessarily mean bad, and just because Tom isn’t there doesn’t mean that she can’t enjoy the holidays with who she has around her: Red and Agnes. She doesn’t need to feel any guilt over the fact that Tom is gone and that fact certainly shouldn’t keep her from enjoying the holidays with her family. She immediately feels better, having thought things through and put her mind at ease, the only wishing that she could have had just a few hours to figure that out before, and then she wouldn’t have exploded at Red.

Red…

Liz is still confused about his clingy behavior over the last few weeks and she spends the next two days pondering why that could be. She is unfocused with Agnes the whole time, her baby having to pat her cheek or cry out to get her attention. Having fixed her own problem, she is now occupied with trying to solve Red’s, and spends the day going backwards through their interactions for the past few weeks to the best of her memory. What there something she said or done that could have triggered his behavior?

Think like a psychologist, Liz, come on now.

But for the life of her, Liz can’t figure it out.

She continues to think in circles even after Agnes is tucked in bed for the night, feeling as though there’s something very obvious she’s missing. Liz mentally examines their fight, looking for something that could have set him off, while slowly and methodically cleaning the living room, putting Agnes’ toys away.

She’d given no hint of uncertainty about their relationship that she can remember, at least not intentionally. And if Red had had any concerns, he certainly would have voiced them. And obviously Agnes didn’t do anything to worry him, she’s an angel, what harm could she do? Liz remembers only too vividly how tightly he clutched Agnes as he paced when they were fighting, almost as if he was afraid to let her go, as if something would –

Liz freezes, half bent over reaching for a toy, the three she was already holding tumbling back to the floor.

Of course.

Red was afraid something would happen to them.

Because it’s Christmas.

Oh, Liz, you idiot.

She’d been so preoccupied with her own stupid feelings that she hadn’t even stopped to consider how Red was feeling during the holiday season.

He has ghosts of his own, after all.

His poor wife and daughter, those awful events so many years ago, the fact that he had never truly recovered. And this is his first Christmas with Liz and Agnes as a family. Of course, he’s paranoid, terrified probably, of something happening to them. That’s why he didn’t want Liz to go anywhere without him, why he kept Agnes in sight at all times unless he knew she was tucked safely in bed, why he kept physical contact with Liz every second he was able to. It is comforting to him to be with them, to be at ease, to know they are safe. And how can she blame him? As irrational as his fears may be, there is obviously a legitimate reason for them and, above all, it is just because he loves them.

He just loves them.

Oh, Red.

He doesn’t like to talk about that awful Christmas Eve all those years ago but –

Christmas Eve.

Tonight is Christmas Eve.

Oh, Red.

Liz abandons the toys and whips around, frantically looking for her phone. She’d gone and pushed Red away when literally the only thing he wanted was to be close to her and Agnes in the days leading up to Christmas. And, here it is, Christmas Eve, and he’s sitting alone somewhere, wondering, worrying –

Oh, what has she done?

Liz snatches up her phone and dials.

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

Red swirls the amber liquid in his tumbler, slumped in a worn armchair in front of the large window in his hotel room, all the lights off, staring fixedly at Lizzie’s apartment building.

He hasn’t left this room for three days.

He knows it’s ridiculous. And paranoid and unhealthy and more than a little creepy. But he can’t help it. Staring at her building is the only thing that quells the otherwise relentless anxiety that radiates through his body at being away from Lizzie and Agnes.

This time of the year has always been hard for him, ever since that year, and here, now, with Lizzie and Agnes and this fresh start he has somehow been granted, he can’t help but worry about them.

He is so afraid.

He has nightmares, both awake and asleep it seems, about coming back to their apartment, expecting to be greeted by a giggling Agnes and a smiling Lizzie – Christmas presents in the car – feet of snow – nothing but blood –

No.

Red grimaces and squeezes his eyes shut, trying in vain to ward off the unwelcome thoughts. He can’t lose them. He just can’t.

He was aware in the back of his mind that he was crowding Lizzie, being too nosy, pushing too close, holding too long, but he couldn’t help it. If Lizzie is there, with him, next to him, wrapped up in him, no harm can come to her. And Agnes, Agnes, with her just a room away, he almost felt okay again, able to breathe, able to relax.

Almost.

But he was so absorbed in his own past, his own demons, his own comfort, he gave no thought to Lizzie.

Lizzie.

She has been through so much in the past year, a ten-month long coma, becoming a widow, losing almost a year of Agnes’ life, to say nothing of her own, and then having to re-adjust to everything when she woke up. Red is endlessly proud of her and he had foolishly assumed that after six months, she had made peace with things and settled into a rhythm and a routine.

With him.

But, of course, the holidays would be hard for her as well. Her father is gone and this is the first Christmas without her ex-husband and only her second with Agnes. Lizzie has every right to be overwhelmed, who wouldn’t need a little space for all that?

She just wanted space.

And Red had given her the opposite. No wonder she was feeling claustrophobic.

God, he was smothering her.

Red downs the rest of his scotch bitterly. He wants to call and apologize but Lizzie is probably still angry. He doesn’t want to encroach any further, he should wait and –

Ring, ring.

Red is up and out of his chair within seconds, racing for his phone, panic coursing through him. Has something happened? Did he miss something? What if –

His heart rate spikes as he checks the caller ID and sees Lizzie’s name flashing there.

Oh, god.

He presses accept as quickly as he can.

“Hello?” he croaks.

“Red,” he hears Lizzie breath.

He tries not to cry at the sound of her voice.

“Lizzie, are you alright?” he gasps.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine and so is Agnes. Everything’s fine, Red, we’re fine,” she sounds very patient and kind, much more so than the last time they talked. Red can feel himself relaxing in a way he hasn’t been able to in three days.

“Good,” he sighs, relieved.

He missed her.

“Then, why are you calling?” he questions after a moment, confused.

“Well, I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few days and I realized some things and…listen, I’d really like to talk. Do you think you could come over?”

“Yes,” he blurts without thinking. “I mean, yes, uh, I can be there in…ten minutes?”

“Perfect,” Lizzie says and he wonders if that’s a smile he hears in her voice. “I’ll see you in a bit then?”

“Okay,” he murmurs and hangs up.

He gets to see Lizzie.

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

Red skids to a halt in front of what he hopes is still their apartment door and takes a moment to collect himself before knocking.

The door opens even before he has fully drawn his hand away and there is Lizzie, looking soft and wonderful in yoga pants and one of his sweaters, her eyebrows knitted in something that looks like concern.

Red stands there for a moment, staring, drinking her in, feeling the anxiety and paranoia draining from his limbs.

“Lizzie, I’m –”

But he gets nothing more out before she lurches forward and throws her arms around him. He lets out the air in his lungs in a huff, more out of surprise and true physical impact and takes a moment to breath in her familiar scent before wrapping his arms around her the way he’s wanted to for the last three days.

He’s home.

They stand there for a moment, in the hallway of their apartment building, just hugging.

It’s wonderful.

Eventually, Lizzie slowly and reluctantly pulls away and takes his hand, tugging him gently into the apartment. Red doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the feeling that washes over him as he steps over the threshold, knowing this is where they’re safe and happy, the three of them. Lizzie shuts the door and starts to lead him to the couch. He sees a few of Agnes’ toys still scattered on the floor from playtime.

Agnes.

Red feels his chest ache at the thought of his little girl and he pulls Lizzie to a stop in the middle of the living room. She turns to look at him questioningly and Red just stares at her, pleading. She understands immediately and turns without a word, still holding his hand, towards Agnes’ room. Red squeezes her hand in silent thanks as they walk quietly down the hallway.

Lizzie eases Agnes’ bedroom door open and gestures for Red to go inside. He leans in tentatively at first, another flash of fear for another daughter rocketing through him, but Lizzie is still holding his hand and everything is okay.

Red leaves Lizzie in the doorway and moves silently into the room, taking in the wonderful sight of little Agnes asleep in her pink big-girl bed, her stuffed fish clutched under one arm and her blond curls tangled on her pillow. Her face is pressed endearingly into the pillow, her mouth open as she sleeps peacefully. Her pink nightlight ebbs and flows gently in the corner, illuminating her precious features at slow, even intervals. The effect is very calming.

(Of course, it’s meant for Agnes but it does wonders for Red as well.)

He moves closer and ever-so-gently pushes Agnes’ tousled hair out of her face. She gives a little sigh in her sleep and rolls over and Red takes the opportunity to pull her purple comforter over her shoulders where it has slipped down.

(She may not biologically be his daughter but it doesn’t matter.

He loves her so.)

Red can’t help but lean in and press a quick kiss to the top of her head before turning to leave, catching sight of Lizzie watching, teary-eyed, from the hall. Red smiles at her, trying to convey all of his love and gratitude in that one expression, and takes her hand again, tugging her away from Agnes’ room and pulling the door halfway closed as he does so.

“Come on,” he murmurs and leads Lizzie back to the living room.

They sink down next to each other on the couch and it’s only a second before Lizzie is wrapping her arms around him, practically climbing onto his lap to hold him. He sighs and presses his face into her neck, feeling more at ease then he has in days.

“Thank you, Lizzie,” he says quietly, not exactly sure what he’s thanking her for.

(Probably everything.)

“You don’t need to thank me,” she whispers, and he’s not exactly sure what she’s referring to.

(Hopefully everything.)

They snuggle for a few minutes more before Red sighs and gently pulls back from her. She looks adorably put out for a moment before remembering that she asked him over to talk and yet they’ve only said a few words. She nods to herself and moves away a little, more on her own couch cushion now, but still reassuringly pressed against him.

“Lizzie,” he starts. “I’m so sorry that –”

But, once again, he doesn’t get far because Lizzie presses her fingers to his lips to stop him. He frowns lightly at her. Why won’t she let him apologize?

“No, Red,” she says. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was in the wrong and I’m a fool for not realizing it sooner. I’m so sorry.”

Red starts to shake his head but Lizzie won’t move her fingers.

“No,” she says firmly. “I was completely pre-occupied with how I was feeling, trying to process all the changes that have happened within the last year and how they made the holidays different from previous ones and stupid stuff like that. I just wanted space to think and all I knew was that you were crowding me and I gave no thought as to why that might be. I didn’t even stop to think about Christmas and the significance that holiday holds for you. If I had just tried to be a little more observant and caring towards my partner, none of this would have happened. The only thing you were worried about was our safety and you just wanted to be near us and I kicked you out –”

She can’t continue, her eyes filling up with tears, but she doesn’t need to. Red has heard enough.

“Lizzie,” he murmurs, pressing kisses into her hair as the tears spill over and race down her cheeks. “Lizzie, don’t cry. You weren’t to know, it’s all right, Lizzie.”

“I made you leave!” she gasps, wiping her eyes.

“I didn’t go far,” he whispers, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay, Lizzie, I forgive you.”

She gives a little hiccup at that but seems to accept it and her tears slow to a stop.

Red is glad.

(He can’t stand to see Lizzie cry, least of all because of him.)

He gives her a moment to calm down before giving her a final kiss on the cheek and taking a breath.

“And now it’s my turn.”

She is about to protest but he quickly presses his hand to her mouth like she did to him, smiling teasingly at her. She rolls her eyes but he can feel her mouth pull up in a grin beneath his fingers and she sits quietly, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry as well, Lizzie,” he begins. “I was also pre-occupied with my own demons and I didn’t think for a second that you would be dealing with things too right now. You were completely right to want space to process things because so much has happened in the past year. And this is your first relatively calm Christmas with all of these changes and I should have known things would be hard for you. I was thoughtless and rude, Lizzie, and I’m sorry.”

Lizzie smiles sadly. “It’s okay, I’ve already forgiven you. Now I just want to spend Christmas together.” She cups his neck and scratches her fingernails lightly over his scalp, the way that she knows he loves, and he hums contentedly, his eyes drifting shut.

“I suppose we could’ve avoided all of this if we’d just been open with each other about our feelings, huh?”

“I suppose,” Red murmurs, opening his eyes and bringing his fingers up to play with a lock of her hair. “But arguments and miscommunication are part of a relationship. Frankly, I think we were a little overdue. Things had been going frighteningly well between us, don’t you agree?” he questions teasingly, grinning at her.

Liz laughs at that, throwing her head back, glorious in her happiness, and Red can’t believe he didn’t notice how long it had been since he’d seen her smile. Red chuckles along with her, his deep voice complimenting her lighter one.

They fit so perfectly.

“Yes, I think I’d have to agree,” she says eventually, patting his chest lovingly.

He smiles and looks over her shoulder at the Christmas tree standing majestically in the corner of the room. As his gaze moves to the piles of neatly wrapped presents underneath, an idea occurs to him.

Liz watches as his mouth slowly pulls up at the corners in a smile.

“What?” she asks, curiously, touching one corner gently with the tip of her finger. 

Red turns his gaze back to her and takes her hand from his face, pressing a kiss to each finger in turn.

“What would you say to exchanging presents now?”

Lizzie’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Now? But it’s only Christmas Eve!”

Red glances at his watch. “Actually, it’s 12:23am, so technically it’s Christmas day already. And if we open our gifts now, we can let Christmas morning be all Agnes’. I know how dreadfully excited she is.”

Red sees Lizzie’s lips purse in that familiar, disapproving way of hers but he sees her eyes twinkle at the same time and he knows she’s already decided.

“You spoil that girl, you know,” she says, playfully frowning at him, trying to pretend that the idea of Red spoiling her daughter isn’t completely and utterly endearing to her.

“Of course,” he answers simply, shrugging.

She shakes her head, smiling at him. She hasn’t said yes yet, though they both know she will, so, just for fun, he lids his eyes and pushes his mouth into that pout he knows she can’t refuse.

“That’s not fair!” Lizzie cries indignantly, but she presses a quick kiss to his pouty lips anyway. “Oh, alright!” she sighs, pretending to be put out but she can’t quite hold back the giggle that escapes when Red bounds off the couch, excited, to retrieve her present from under the tree.

Red plucks a long, slender box wrapped in gold paper off the top of the biggest pile and gently carries it back to the couch. He hands it to Lizzie.

“For you,” he says softly, lovingly.

Lizzie blushes prettily and carefully peels the paper off to unveil a jewelry box.

“Red…” she murmurs, before she’s even seen it.

She slowly opens the box to reveal a beautiful, delicate, silver, heart-shaped locket, engraved with tiny, hand-painted flowers and vines. Lizzie gasps quietly and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears again.

“Open it,” Red murmurs in that same low tone of voice.

Lizzie sniffs weakly and takes a fortifying breath before carefully opening the locket. She gasps again at what she sees and she can’t keep the tears from falling his time, crying openly, pressing a hand over her mouth.

On the right side of the locket is a tiny perfectly fitted photograph. Lizzie took it a few months after she’d woken up from her coma and promptly proclaimed it was her favorite picture.

(In that instant, four months before Christmas, Red knew he had his gift for Lizzie.)

The photograph, candid but beautiful, is of Red and Agnes, who was almost two at the time. They were outside in the garden and Red is holding her, propped up in his arms, her blonde curls framing her face beautifully, while she points happily at a flower.

Red remembers the day perfectly, Agnes asking to be picked up to see the pretty pink hibiscus blooming on a bush high above her head. Red had picked her up and told her all about how flowers open like that to see the sun and once they are nice and warm, they go away again to sleep.

He didn’t know that Lizzie was standing off to the side, her phone in her hand, snapping such a perfect photo.

(It is his favorite.)

Red sees Lizzie’s gaze drift to the left side of the locket, where there is an inscription in French: “Ma vie, mon coeur…”

“What does it mean?” Lizzie breathes.

“My life, my heart…” Red whispers back. “I thought it appropriate.”

Liz closes her eyes and reaches for him blindly, knowing he’ll catch her.

(He always catches her.)

She kisses him a little desperately and he responds in kind, his hands gripping her waist tightly.

God, he loves her.

They break apart with a gasp. “Thank you,” she whispers, sounding a little broken. Red simply rubs his nose against hers, touching their lips together once again gently.

They sit together for another quiet, peaceful minute before Lizzie surprises him by huffing a quiet little laugh.

“What is it?” he asks curiously.

“I feel my present will rather pale in comparison,” Lizzie mutters, smiling a little sadly, disentangling from him and wiping her eyes.

“You didn’t need to get me –”

“Shut up, Red.”

He smiles.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“That’s better,” she grins fondly at him. “It’s in our room, I’ll be right back.” 

Red watches as she stands, straightens her sweater, and gives him a final loving smile before turning and hurrying back to their room. He watches her go in something like wonder. He doesn’t have to wait long before she is coming back, carrying a rectangular package, wrapped in green paper, slightly larger and bulkier than the jewelry box she’d just unwrapped.

“Hmm, whatever could this be…” he says playfully, taking it from her as she sits back down on the couch and drapes herself over him.

“Well, gee, it looks like you may have to unwrap it to find out,” she teases. He shoots her a look that makes her giggle and he can’t resist a quick poke to her side that makes her squeal.

“Let’s see…” he turns back to the package and peels off the paper gently, feeling the odd bulky shape beneath the wrapping. “What…”

He trails off as a beautiful, gilded picture frame is revealed and he gasps, distracted by the spectacular quality of it.

“Lizzie…” he breathes, trailing his finger along the edge of the frame. “It’s –”

But then he actually looks at the photograph in the gorgeous frame and his words dry up in his mouth. He almost laughs at the irony: it is a picture of Lizzie and Agnes.

(The fact that he and Lizzie’s gifts to one another were pictures of them with Agnes makes his heart actually ache and swell in his chest.)

It is a beautiful photo and, just like Lizzie’s, he remembers the day it was taken. It was during the first month Lizzie had woken up and she and Agnes were still getting reacquainted with one another. Agnes was about one and a half at the time and the three of them were outside enjoying the sun, Red and Agnes on a beach blanket in the grass and Lizzie laying in a hammock watching them. Agnes had looked up at her mother, beautiful in the sun and swinging lightly in the breeze, and used Red to stand up and walk right over to her, grabbing onto the hammock’s edge for balance when she got there.

The small tug got Lizzie’s attention and she had picked Agnes up and sat her in her lap. There, the mother and daughter had just looked at one another, Agnes staring in something like wonder and Lizzie in something that was definitely love. They both looked beautiful in the dappled sunlight shining through the trees above them and Red was already fumbling with his phone, trying to open the camera app, when Agnes had leaned forward and put both her tiny hands on either side of Lizzie’s face. Lizzie had looked momentarily surprised and then her face split into a gorgeous smile. Agnes had giggled in response and that’s when Red snapped the picture.

Mother and daughter sharing a tender moment.

(This is Red’s other favorite.)

“I thought you could add it to your collection in your Bethesda apartment,” Lizzie says quietly to him. “I know how much you love your photos.”

The tears are falling before Red even realizes it and Lizzie is leaning forward to kiss them away. He quickly turns and wraps her up in his arms.

“Thank you so much, Lizzie, I love it,” he breathes into her ear.

“I’m so glad,” she whispers back, rubbing his back in soothing circles that he never wants to stop. He pulls back after a long moment and they just stare at each other.

(He wonders briefly if he has ever been happier, than here with Lizzie and their daughter.)

“Well, that’s enough crying for one night, I think, don’t you?” Lizzie says after an appropriate amount of time, chipper and giggly, effectively lightening the tender moment.

“Yes, I rather agree,” Red sighs, leaning back in the sofa with a long-suffering sigh. “God, I’m exhausted.”

“Me too. But I’m not tired,” Liz says idly.

“Me neither.”

There is a beat of silence.

“Want some hot chocolate?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Lizzie giggles in that way he loves and hurries off to make the hot chocolate while he cleans up the used wrapping paper and takes their presents to their room, putting Lizzie’s necklace on her dresser with her other jewelry and his photo on his nightstand so he can look at it while falling asleep tonight.

(He thinks if he ever stops looking at it, it will be something of a Christmas miracle.)

Within a few minutes, they have reconvened in the living room with their hot chocolate and blankets, the main lights off and the tree lights on.

Red is about to settle down on the couch when Lizzie suddenly points to the window in excitement.

“Look, it’s snowing!”

Red turns to look, smiling at her child-like enthusiasm. He can only imagine what Agnes will be like in the morning.

(He can’t wait.)

“It’s beautiful,” he says quietly. “Should we watch?”

“Yeah,” says Lizzie, smiling at him.

“Come here,” he says and beckons to her.

Lizzie hurries over and takes a moment to get comfortable, ending up leaning back against Red’s chest, sitting snugly in between his legs, while they both face the window, warm under their blankets, sipping their drinks and watching the snow fall.

Red finds Lizzie’s hand under the blankets and she holds on tight. He presses a kiss to her hair.

“I love you,” he whispers to her.

“I love you too,” she whispers back and his heart swells.

They’ve acknowledged their ghosts and they made it through this holiday together, stronger than ever, and here they sit, happy and content, making new Christmas memories.

“Merry Christmas, Lizzie.”

“Merry Christmas, Red.”

He can’t wait for next year.

[whereimfeminine]

92 truths

i was tagged by the lovelies @gayanqel and @harryismywonderwall (thanks dears! 💖)

LAST…

[1] drink: water

[2] phone call: my basically-grandma 

[3] text message: to a friend about this big journal tryout thing happening rn

[4] song you listened to: the alien ant farm remix of smooth criminal (iconic) 

[5] time you cried: i’m not sure if full tears were shed but i was on the verge a few times yesterday (frustration tears rip) 

HAVE YOU EVER… [6] dated someone twice: no [7] been cheated on: no [8] kissed someone and regretted it: regret is probably too strong?  [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: don’t think so [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: not both lol 

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: [12] pink [13] yellow  [14] coral 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU… [15] made new friends: yeah! [16] fallen out of love: no [17] laughed until you cried: probably  [18] found out someone was talking about you: more or less yeah  [19] met someone who changed you: i suppose everyone you meet changes you in a way so yes! [this was greta’s answer and i like it so im gonna live it but give you credit!]  [20] found out who your true friends are: umm not in any dramatic way  [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: nah

GENERAL… [22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: almost all of them, only a very few who’ve friended me via activist networks, etc  [23] do you have any pets: no [24] do you want to change your name: nah  [25] what did you do for your last birthday: went to dinner with my friends and went out 

[26] what time did you wake up: 7:30am 

[27] what were you doing at midnight last night: about to get into bed  [28] name something you cannot wait for: to be done with all this work i have, esp this brief  [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: mid January :(  [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: umm I’m not sure, I wish I was better at being more emotionally open if that makes sense  [31] what are you listening to right now: right now right now, nothing  [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: yeah  [33] something that is getting on your nerves: my neighbor has their tv or something on and i can faintly hear it and i hate it  [34] most visited website: lmao tumblr  [35] elementary: i dunno it was a time, it happened? i was awkward  [36] high school: a time i Do Not Miss, my life post-high school is immeasurably better lols 

[37] college: it tried me in a lot of ways, but I loved college and I’m nostaglic to go back and visit and lowkey if i have kids i hope they go there 💚 

[38] hair colour: dark blonde  [39] long or short hair: short! 

[40] do you have a crush on someone: nah 

[41] what do you like about yourself? i’d like to think that I’m thoughtful and try my best to always be nice to people? and i work hard i suppose. 

[42] piercings: ears and belly button  [43]blood type: dunno  [44] nickname: i don’t think i have any, beyond when people sometimes shorten it  [45] relationship status: single [46] zodiac sign: libra [47] pronouns: she/her [48] fav tv show: right now, Jane the Virgin  [49] tattoos: want to get one this summer  [50] right or left handed: left handed

FIRST… [51] surgery:dunno, probably a small one on my tooth  [52] piercing: ears  [53] best friend: sonja  [54] sport: was never very athletic but my parents tried me with a brief soccer stint  [55] vacation: dunno?  [56] pair of trainers: no idea

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: a butterscotch hard candy lmao  [58] drinking: water [59] i’m about to: keep working  [60] listening to: this is the third time they’ve asked this??? nothing  [61] waiting for: harry’s album (keepin’ greta’s answer)  [62] want: a lot of sleep  [64] career: in law school, so hopefully a lawyer rip 

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: hugs [66] lips or eyes: depends  [67] shorter or taller: whatevs  [68] older or younger: older i suppose  [69] romantic or spontaneous: depends  [70] nice arms or nice stomach: all arms and stomachs are nice :’)   [71] sensitive or loud: both can be good i guess?  [72] hook up or relationship: dunno bud  [73] troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger? skldfyeah  [75] drank hard liquor? yeah, but it needs to be mixed in drinks well  [76] lost glasses/contact lenses? not glasses but contacts yes  [77] turned someone down: yeah [78] sex on first date? no [79] broken someone’s heart? i think one time in fifth grade i broke this kid’s heart in a middle school kinda way. he’s an ass anyways #noregrets  [80] had your own heart broken? no [81] been arrested? no [82] cried when someone died? yes [83] fallen for a friend: no

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself? yeah mostly  [85] miracles? not really [86] love at first sight? i’m sure that i could never fall in love with someone at first sight but maybe other people can, it might be different for everyone (this is greta’s answer again she Gets me)  [87] santa clause? ummMM yeS  [88] kiss on the first date? i dunno 

[89] angels? hahah i dunno 

OTHER… [90] current best friend’s name: i dont know who i’d consider my “best friend” i have a few really close ones  [91] eye colour: greenish-bluish-changing  [92] favourite movie: chicago, mean girls, legally blonde

ummmm im gonna try to tag different people than earlier so lets see: @nialilouarry @louissgoldchain @harryfeatgaga @louisandharryfic @gloryhalleloujah @hughaz @harryshyles @foxholemonsters @helladonut @hrrystyles  (and as always no pressure to do it and apologies if you dont like being tagged in these!) 

[megadarkbouquettidalwavethings]

I Will Die in This Beautiful Place

Whenever I think of those alternate realities, those theories of time where new dimensions split open every time you choose between hot or cold coffee, I feel like hurtling myself into the sun. It’s just too big, there’s too much, and I begin to feel shackled by the “shoulds.” Which decisions might, or might not, make me the person I’m supposed to be? And, sometimes when you order cold brew they give you yesterday’s coffee on ice, and it’s like: Great, why can’t I be in the dimension where I have drinkable coffee?

There’s something so freeing about abandoning it all, or maybe just the urge to. The way in elementary school my paintings just ended up being a puddle of gray, and the art teacher would sit down with me and ask, “What were you going for? What happened?” And I would stare down at my gray puddle, unable to explain what happened.

East VillageCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

In the vast mythology of New York, it’s the place you go to become who you always wanted to be. You move here and everything finally happens for you in the way where you feel like you’re struggling, but then you eventually get it together enough to look back at it with enough material for a humble-yet-thoughtful memoir that includes a passage about the way there used to be neighborhoods, before the city became a strip mall. And the people back home who never understood you still don’t understand you, and their lives are so nice looking. Good for them.

Maybe it’s the obnoxious way I was, you know [lowers shades], born here. Or maybe it’s because my former co-workers, annoyed and fed up, eventually renamed our group text to “True New Yorkers,” where they began composing paragraph-long fictional texts from the perspective of a rat-battling landlord named Sal who couldn’t find a ride to Fairway. It seems like being from here is the most obnoxious thing I could have done, but also it’s probably that I can’t walk down Second Avenue without mentioning my first kiss, when I sneaked into Lit Lounge at 14.

Central ParkCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Bed shopping at Ikea.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

John’s Deli in the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

When there was a pipe bomb explosion a few blocks from my apartment last year, a friend in the Bay Area checked up on me before I knew that anything had happened. He texted, “hey, you ok?” And from bed I replied, “Yeah, do I not seem it? Am I being too sad online again?”

There is something humbling about someone conflating the response to an explosion at Port Authority and the fear that people know you’re vulnerable. He said that he couldn’t have imagined a “more New York response than, ‘yeah don’t I seem ok?’” He also said he constantly misses New York and thinks he’ll come back, because no one out there would have posted that meme of a bunch of rats eating a birthday cake captioned, “brunch with my girls.”

Another friend who left New York missed it because “there was the sense that we were all in it together.” That sentiment turns on a dime, though, when transplants reminisce about how “back home” people don’t need an excuse to say hi to you.

At the Women’s March in January.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

I have to remind myself that the default is community. That intense or potent solitude is abnormal and even perverse. When I worked in an office, I’d often go home on Friday and return Monday without having spoken to another person. Like other quests for the bottom, I began to fetishize how unhealthy that isolation was to the point of asceticism. Maybe it’s that I’ve always been single when I’ve lived in the city. All my relationships were in college or on brief stints away. Maybe, for me, the community I’ve always known and my ability to really “share my life” with another person are mutually exclusive.

Union SquareCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Times SquareCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Stealing a kiss at the Museum of Natural History.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Central Park SouthCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

There was a time when I yearned to live in Los Angeles — obviously a sign I was deeply unwell — and before that, a list of smaller cities I’d idealized. In high school, I thought I hated it here, or I did hate it here. (Is there a difference?) But: Have you ever looked a rent-controlled apartment in the eye and told it, “No”?

In Manhattan’s diamond district.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Everyone used to say that if you grew up in New York, you’re destined to die in New York. There is always something pulling you back during those brief stints elsewhere: the energy, the pacing of time, family, the golden handcuffs of a good deal on an apartment. Or the way the older Upper West Side women would tap me on the shoulder and kindly tell me I had “a run in my stockings,” when they were so worn and tattered they more resembled those webs when they’ve given spiders LSD. Or the way I will say hello to familiar faces in the neighborhood for years without knowing their name, occupation or anything else besides the casual conversation of which gym they belong to and what they think of the weather.

Mathew Gruber prepares for his 94th birthday celebration with his grandchildren.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Times SquareCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Central ParkCreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

The casual anonymity is another facet, the adjacent face of the diamond of intimacy, the way small talk and cute sayings on mugs of coffee are joyously cynical, like how standard it is for spouses to joke about hating each other, or for parents to mockingly roll their eyes about their kids.

The permission to be fed up with each other is the highest mark, to me, of intimacy and trust. A casual elevator conversation that includes an eye roll, a complaint, shared grievances. Keeping satisfaction, the good things, close to the chest. Why should we commiserate so often about gratitude? Are we bragging? There is a togetherness in the low-grade annoyances, the permission to share that fleeting intolerance, the striving for something better, the simultaneous ungratefulness and optimism of, “Eh, could be better.”

At the bus stop.CreditDaniel Arnold for The New York Times

Daniel Arnold is a photographer in New York. Darcie Wilder is a writer in New York. Her novel, “literally show me a healthy person,” was published by Tyrant Books in 2017.

DANIEL ARNOLD, DARCIE WILDER and EVE LYONS

The post I Will Die in This Beautiful Place appeared first on dailygate.

[flauntpage]

Phil Jackson Once Coached a Team Called Lox Around the Clock

With each lost season that Phil Jackson serves as president of the New York Knicks and every bizarre pronouncement that he makes about an NBA superstar—his own, players for other teams, whoever—it becomes easier for frustrated and perversely gleeful basketball fans alike to dismiss his accomplishments as a coach. Maybe Jackson was overrated, the thinking goes, and maybe it really was all about Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Kobe Bryant, and Shaquille O'Neal. Perhaps this doddering lover of a geometrical basketball system has been a naked emperor since 1991. It's difficult to square Jackson's past success with his grumpy, flailing present. However, it would be a mistake to demean Jackson the coach simply because of the struggles of Jackson the executive. Failures in one field don't erase his successes in another. To the contrary, his career numbers are—like the vastness of the universe, the Triangle offense, or a late-night Phil tweet—effectively incomprehensible.

Jackson has won more championships (11) than Gregg Popovich and Pat Riley have combined (10); in an 11-season stretch, Jackson's teams captured nine titles; he won championships 19 years apart. Since 1969 there have been four title repeats by non-Phil coaches, while Jackson accomplished that feat seven times. Long story short, there has never been a coach like Jackson, from his CBA title-winning days with the Albany Patroons to the glory years with Chicago and Los Angeles to his quietly telling stint with Lox Around the Clock.

Don't remember the Lox? That's all right, because only about four or five people in the world still remember Jackson's brief time with the club. Now, thanks to the internet and a New York City playground legend named Jack Ryan, we can see Jackson as both a young coaching prodigy and an old playing warrior. In 1987, during a two-day tournament, Jackson—who, that same year, left his head coaching job in Albany and become an assistant with the Bulls under Doug Collins—coached Ryan and a mismatched collection of middle-aged muscle-pulls waiting to happen in a weekend competition in Scotch Plains, New Jersey. Phil didn't just coach the Lox, either. He pulled a Bill Russell and served as a player-coach. Behold one minute and 46 seconds of pure basketball:

The video survives thanks to Ryan, who I met while writing my book Rise and Fire. Ryan has long been considered one of the great playground performers in New York City, a ball-handling wizard and shooting phenom who has dominated on courts throughout the city, especially at his favored haunt, the Cage at W. 4th Street. A high school star at John Jay in the early 1980s, Ryan never made it to big-time college basketball, done in by personal demons that led to a nomadic life. In 1990, with an assist from well-connected NBA writer Peter Vecsey, Ryan finally got a tryout in rookie camp with the New Jersey Nets; he was in his late twenties by then, and got cut. Ryan turned his life around and has spent years performing at arenas across the land as a basketball entertainer. Today he makes a living putting on shows at schools, Bar Mitzvahs and other events. And, even in his 50s, he keeps raining in jump shots all across NYC.

So how did Ryan end up playing for, and with, Jackson on that weekend in 1987?

"I was bartending" in Brooklyn, Ryan told me. "I'm there, it's the middle of the week, it's like happy hour and there's nobody in the bar. This older white guy comes in and we start shooting the shit, and we start talking about basketball." Ryan recapped his life story for the customer, from his high-scoring high school days to his college flameout and subsequent wanderings. The man told Ryan about an upcoming weekend tournament he organized in Scotch Plains, and "he said, 'I think one of the teams could use a guy like you.' So he got me on a team called Lox Around the Clock," named after, and presumably sponsored by, the Manhattan restaurant at Sixth Avenue and 21st Street. (According to a 1987 story in the New York Times, the joint's matzo ball soup had a "medicinal taste.") That thirsty recruiter was Bill Clancy, the visionary founder of Club Basketball USA who later went on to create an over-50 basketball league.

Clancy asked his friend Phil Jackson to coach the team, but Jackson did him one better by also ditching his coaching sweats for some dangerously-brief-even-considering-the-era short shorts and mixing it up between the lines. The highlights of the tourney, or at least of the few spliced clips of it that survive 30 years later:

Early, we see Phil offering up coaching instructions. "On the offense, let's just stay with pass, go, wing, set a pick, point guard…" He's direct, patient, and wise.

At 33 seconds, Phil, in that iconic green No. 41 Lox Around the Clock home jersey, competes under the glass against an opponent. When the other guy grabs the offensive board, Phil, instead of playing fundamentally sound defense against any putback attempt, yanks the man's white T-shirt that's under his yellow jersey, tearing it in the process. Remarkably—or not, if we consider the possibility Phil worked the officials in a press conference early that morning—a ref runs in to call ... traveling. A voice is heard, however, calling a technical on Phil after a bit of trash-talking with his foe, who just stands there, stunned, sort of stupidly, with a tattered shirt. Fourteen years earlier the guy had probably celebrated while watching Phil and the Knicks win the 1973 NBA title. Now he had to figure out why a former NBA hustle guy had gratuitously vandalized his favorite tee.

At 46 seconds, Phil knocks down a little lefty 15-footer, displaying the soft touch that made him a high school star and college legend at the University of North Dakota. The southpaw form is a bit reminiscent of Jackson's future player Toni Kukoc, if Kukoc played the day after he helped move a sleeper sofa and a dozen bookcases into a pal's sixth-floor walkup.

At 55 seconds, Phil, who was never shy about confronting his stars, expresses his displeasure to the pasty-skinned civilians. "Hey guys, guys," he says, "it's all a matter of getting the goddamn basketball and not giving the fucking thing up." As memorable coaching proclamations from Phil go, it doesn't quite rank with his directive to the Lakers to "forget about Shaq" as they stormed back in Game 7 of the 2000 Western Conference Finals, but it worked.

At 1:04, boom! As an opposing player, who we learn from an off-camera voice is named Peter, goes in for a seemingly easy layup on the left side, Phil emerges and levels the poor guy with a body check, a likely flagrant 1 foul in today's game and one that would in another age have elicited smiles from Riley's Knicks and protests from Jackson's Bulls. Peter stays on his feet while Phil tumbles to the ground. Our commentator watches Phil's antics and mutters two words that dozens of rival coaches, executives and players would repeat over the next three decades: "You asshole."

Or, as Ryan puts it 30 years later, Jackson was "just one nasty fuck on the court." Not surprisingly, since it's on his YouTube page, Ryan excels throughout the video, displaying ball-handling skills that make one opponent in particular look like an actor playing a patsy for Uncle Drew. His silky pull-up jumper goes down from anywhere, whether on an indoor court or out in the elements. Ryan remembers the team losing in the finals of the tournament and Jackson, the shirt-grabbing banger, being "tech'd out" of the event. For the official Lox Around the Clock history books, a few years ago I sent the clip to the Knicks. I didn't hear from Jackson about it, but I believe he saw it because a PR guy—who called the video "great, great stuff"—reported back that "Phil didn't do so well for the rest of the tournament. He got hurt." Injured, tossed ... the details blur 30 years later. Safe to say it wasn't the greatest weekend as a player for the physically past-his-prime Jackson. It was also the last final he'd lose as a coach until 2004 against the Detroit Pistons. What did Ryan think of Jackson the coach, before Tex Winter, Jordan, Shaq and Kobe came into his life? "Obviously he knew what he was doing," Ryan says. "He was just designing plays, telling us what to do. One time he cursed at us. So yeah, that's my Phil Jackson story." It's a better story than the one being written now at Madison Square Garden. Shawn Fury is a writer in New York City. Visit him at shawnfury.com or on Twitter @shawnfury.

Phil Jackson Once Coached a Team Called Lox Around the Clock published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv