#despite all of their ups and downs they’ll always love each other and Owen will do whatever he can to save his boy no matter what

[chenlopez]

Yes yes yes this 1000%

[marjansmarwani]

time can heal, but this won’t

1.7k || ao3

This could have been easily avoided. It never should have happened. But it had and now TK was possibly dying from a gunshot wound and Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault.  --- Carlos Reyes Week Day 5:  “Just, hold on.” + hurt/comfort

This idea actually came from this post by @trkstrnd and became this but none of my other stuff for Carlos week was really angsty so I guess I was due

Beta’d by my favorite partner in crime @officereyes 

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Carlos could recite police protocols verbatim. They had been drilled into his head since the academy and every day since he had lived by them. As a patrol officer, making the right choice and following the proper procedure could be the difference between life and death. The rules were there for a reason; they existed to keep people safe.

This incident — this catastrophe, really — was the kind of example they’d be using to scare the new recruits for years to come: make sure you follow procedure, or a firefighter could get shot by a 7-year-old. 

Carlos still wasn’t sure what had happened: there had been so many moving parts. There had been the mistaken burglar, the worried wife, the heart attack victim, the chaos of the scene. There had been other officers on scene who were not responsible for two civilians; someone should have secured the weapon. 

But it slipped through the cracks, as things sometimes did in the face of chaos. Carlos would normally be one of the first to say that it was something to learn from, that now that it had happened they would know to never let it happen again. But this time was different. 

This time it was TK’s life on the line, and no amount of reasoning could make that okay. 

He didn’t even find out about it until they were gone. He had just turned the corner when the alert about a gunshot came over the radio. His heart caught in his throat as he thought of all the awful possibilities: it could be a fellow officer, someone he was friends with. It could be one of the firefighters - he may not know them well but he would never wish harm on any of them. It could be Paul, it could Michelle, or TK. Those last few possibilities were too awful for him to dwell on so he pushed them aside focusing instead on the road in front of him and the job before him. 

It’s not until the Ackermans are safely returned home with a promise to follow up with any updates from the other homeowners (though Carlos doubts they’ll have any desire to press charges, given everything) that he checks his phone. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees a text from Michelle, and another when he sees one from Paul. 

It’s only after he unlocks his phone to read the messages, nearly identical in content, that he starts to feel the world ever so slowly begin to fall apart around him. It’s the confirmation he’s been dreading: TK’s been shot. TK’s in surgery and from what he can extrapolate between the lines...it doesn’t look good. 

He shuts his eyes and takes a moment, leaning against the driver’s side door of the cruiser, to let the fear and dread wash over him. He and TK, well, Carlos isn’t all that sure what they are, to be perfectly honest; but he does know what they could be. He thinks they’re on the way there too. He thinks they could have something wonderful, but that’s not possible if TK is dead. 

Even thinking the word, even considering the possibility brings tears to his eyes but he pushes them back down. He opens his eyes to check on his partner, who is still on the front porch speaking to Mrs. Ackerman. He still has a few moments of solitude before he’ll have to answer any questions. He sags against the car as he lets the weight of this fear crash over him. It feels almost intrusive, to care so much when he has no claim on the other man; when they have no label for this thing they are building. But they were building it, and Carlos doesn’t want to be left with only the memory of the process. 

As much as he doesn’t want that, he’s afraid that might be exactly what he gets and he hates it. 

He straightens up and shoots off quick replies — thanking them both for the information and asking them to keep him posted. Then he glances at the time and takes a deep breath — there are two hours left in his shift. He can last two hours. He doesn’t know how to explain this to anyone else, doesn’t know how he could possibly explain to his boss that he needs to leave early because this guy he might be kind of dating might die. He doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone, so when his partner returns to the car he gives her a tight smile and starts the car so they can head back to the precinct and their paperwork. 

He doesn’t want to dwell on his thoughts of TK hurt, of TK in surgery, of TK possibly dying so instead he focuses on the how. Namely, how was a gun — that they knew about — not secured; how had this happened with a large police presence? 

Why hadn’t he noticed before it was too late?

He tells himself he wasn’t there when the shots were fired, he reminds himself that there were other officers there, that he wasn’t responsible for this fuck up. But no matter many times he repeats it to himself, he doesn’t believe it. He was there, he knew how things should have gone and he hadn’t made sure they were done. And now TK was paying the price. This was his fault. 

He carefully avoids the subject with his partner and upon their return to the station, he buries himself in paperwork, the words in front of him a blur as he checks his phone every other minute and counts down the seconds to the end of his shift. He keeps to himself, carefully avoiding the talk and conjecture of what had happened at the last call. He pretends to not hear those asking for a recount of the events, he only speaks to his Captain when asked to give his version. He tells her the truth: this could have been avoided; it should have never happened. She nods and thanks him, and he returns to his private waiting game. 

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, his shift is over and he is finally able to go to where his head and his heart have been the whole night. Arriving at the hospital is easy, it’s the going in that��s hard. As much as he wants to know there is a part of his brain that reminds him that these last few moments of not knowing might be the last moments he has in a reality where TK Strand still exists. Walking through those doors could change that, and it’s almost enough to keep him in his car. 

In the end, the need to know wins out. Carlos has never been one to run from things and he is determined to keep it that way. Even if what he is running to is his own heartbreak, he is determined to face it head-on. And so he opens his car door and climbs out, heading towards the door and the possibility of a new reality. 

He finds the correct waiting room quickly; the large group is pretty noticeable, especially at the late hour. He gets curious gazes from most and a sympathetic look from Paul. He nods at them all before his eyes zero in on the room at the center of it all, the door to which their eyes keep gravitating. He takes a deep breath and strides across the room, slowing as he reaches the doorway and the scene within reveals itself. 

It is TK in the bed and, according to the monitors, he is alive, but after having known TK for several months now Carlos scarcely believes it. TK is always moving; a study in perpetual motion. Even when they sit, on the rare nights they settle in for a movie, he is never still. He shifts, he fiddles with his necklace. TK Strand does not hold still and to see him so stationary and lifeless is wrong on levels Carlos doesn’t even want to contemplate. 

He steps inside quietly, not wanting to startle the Captain who is speaking softly, who only has eyes for his son. Owen still turns, despite his efforts, and when their eyes meet Carlos can tell that he isn’t fooling the other man for one moment. Seeing TK like this, in such a foreign state has breached the barriers he has so carefully maintained all night and he can feel the moisture in his eyes. The Captain’s expression filters through several emotions within a moment and he settles on understanding. He knows what they are to each other; or at least what TK is to Carlos. He stands and offers Carlos some time and Carlos means it when he says he doesn’t want to impose. He doesn’t want to pull TK’s father away from his son, he doesn’t want to put anyone else out when this was all his fault anyway. 

But the Captain insists and soon Carlos is left alone with the shell of the man he just might love. He falls into the chair beside the bed and runs a hand through TK’s hair before reaching out and wrapping a hand tenderly around his arm. He knows that in a movie this would be the big romantic speech, the moment the character proclaims his love for the person in the bed. But as much as he does want that, as much as it may be true, proclamations of love are not his highest priority right now. Right now he just needs TK to live. Anything that comes after that, he can handle. Instead, as he leans in, he offers something else. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says thickly, voice low and heavy with tears, “this shouldn’t have happened I...I’m so sorry Ty. Just…” he trailed off, using his free hand to angrily wipe away the tears sliding down his face, “just, hold on. You can’t leave us yet. We need you — I need you.”

He let the silence of the ambient noises fill the room as he stared at the man before him. Soon he is joined by the rest of the crew but not even the firm and comforting hand on his shoulder from Paul can make this any better. 

If TK didn’t make it through this, he didn’t know how he would be able to live with himself.  

[shrimpngritcakes]

Buddie prompt #3: 9-1-1 & Lone Star crossover idea

I’m putting this idea here for someone to claim if they wish. It was originally posted on Ao3 (now with additions), but deleted it due to ToS. If anyone wants this prompt, please comment below so I can delete it after you copy it to prevent similar stories.

His breaking point was a kiss.

One he knew he wasn't supposed to see. With anyone else he would feel like a voyeur, but all he could feel was a dark emptiness opening in his chest.

With Eddie’s truck being in the shop for a tie rod that had broken while at work, sending Eddie into a storm of cursing in Spanish, Ana had picked him up for their latest date.

And dropped him off.

If was a horrible fluke that Buck had stood up to look out the window at just the wrong moment. He should have been in the spare bedroom asleep after a grueling 24 surrounded by all the things he had brought with him when he moved in all those weeks ago.

Buck makes his excuses to leave while Eddie is completely confused and trying to get him to talk. Eddie tries to call Buck but he doesn't pick up.

Buck goes to see Bobby and Athena. It all spills out, including not feeling wanted by his parents. Bobby thinks Eddie is being an idiot but keeps this to himself. He suggests a leave of absence for mental health. Bobby receives permission from his superior to place Buck on open ended leave after giving him a brief explanation of the situation. Ending with him saying to Bobby, “That poor boy. If I ever meet that boy's parents…”

Bobby answers, “Get in line, but there may not be anything left after Athena gets them first.”

TK is surprised to find a sleeping Buck in his Jeep in the parking lot of the 126. An off duty Carlos takes him back to his place where he crashes on the couch. Buck has a nightmare and Carlos talks him down.

Owen calls Bobby saying he has his boy and they'll take care of them. He has a plan and discusses it with Bobby. The whole absence makes the heart grow fonder concept.

“Is it mutual?”

“I’m not 100% sure, but…”

“You can't tell Eddie. Even if he begs for answers for his son, you need to stand strong. It needs to be him asking for himself. If this goes wrong… We'll take Buck in here. He'll have a home with the 126. It will take a while, but we'll help put him back together as best we can until he's back on his feet. He won't be alone.”

Bobby wipes at his face, “Thank you."

“Let's hope this works.”

Eddie is worried and confused why Buck never came home. His phone is going straight to voicemail. Now he isn't there for his shift. Another man comes in and introduced as Buck's temporary replacement. Eddie asks Bobby where Buck is, but he won't give him a straight answer. Eddie is shocked as Bobby's tone is harsh and he glaring at him. Bobby later apologized and explains that Buck requested that only he and Maddie know where he is. Eddie tries to dig, but Bobby just shakes his head with a, “I'm sorry, Eddie. I can't tell you.”

Eddie asks Maddie, but she just slams the door in his face. Chim doesn’t know as she's refusing to tell them where Buck is. Chim delivers her handwritten apology the next day to Eddie. It states Buck needs space from everything, but mostly leaves out the part about Eddie (only one or two things that hint, but it goes over Eddie's head).

Athena almost breaks down and calls Eddie a fool before storming away to her police cruiser. She doesn't know where he is because Bobby refuses to tell her (which she finds annoying yet commendable), but she was there for the why when Buck broke down. She'll apologize after Buck and Eddie return. Hopefully together.

Filler with Buck and the 126 and Carlos. Judd takes him out on a horse like he did Capt. Strand. Fill a pothole on how Grace and him are so accepting of TK's sexuality despite being religious.

A Facetime therapy session where Copeland assures him its okay to get away for a while.

Eddie doesn't quite realize yet that he's slowly losing it, but the others can tell.

Paul and Buck have a conversation.

Christopher asking where Buck is because it's movie night. Eddie doesn't have an answer.

Eddie rages in the station gym trying to understand. He almost gets it, but he thinks Buck is jealous of Eddie, not Ana. Cue Hen groaning under her breath, "You almost got it, Eddie. Come on. Keep thinking."

TK, Carlos, and Paul take Buck out to a club. TK talks absentmindedly to the bartender, even showing him/her a picture of Eddie from Insta. Word spreads about the "new guy," Buck. Others keep the “creeps" away from Buck. Buck loosens up a little while there.

Buck Facetimes Christopher on Carla's phone, only for Eddie to walk in just as Buck is hanging up. He sees Buck's panicked/sad face right before he hangs up. He tries to call back, but doesn't get an answer. Carla huffs and shakes her head. "Figure it out yourself, hun. I can't give you this answer. You need to find it for yourself." Cue Eddie even more confused. This is all just about Buck's parents and jealous over Ana... Isn't it?

Roller derby to cheer on Marjan with the bartender flirting with Buck, who is all kinds of flustered. Carlos, TK, and the others tease him mercilessly.

A massive fire where Buck offers his help. Paul gives Buck as sidehug in gratitude.

Eddie almost punching the mechanic because his truck still isn't done.

Marjan takes Buck out to do something crazy because she's Firefox. (Buck is still starstruck). Maybe skydiving or they race each other at wall climbing? Cue competitive banter.

Owen keeping Bobby updated on Buck.

Buck eventually asks for a transfer. Owen asks if this is what he really wants. Buck just shrugs and asks helplessly what other option he has.

(Optional: Bucks gets up quietly at night for a glass of water and stumbles onto Carlos and TK having sex/making out in the kitchen. Buck either flees in embarrassment or is stunned into watching with Carlos and TK aware that he's there. All parties awkward and/or embarrassed the next morning until TK bursts into giggles and laughter.)

Eddie's relationship with Ana is rapidly deteriorating. Christopher has a full on tantrum. Eddie has to koala hug him on the floor, after Ana brings him back home from a not very good date as Eddie's thoughts were on Buck. Ana tries to help calm him down but Chris screams at her about Buck not being around as much as soon as she started dating his dad. “I hate you! I hate you!” He yells her to get out. Ana still tries to talk. Carla snaps at her to leave. She still tries.

Eddie is spiraling. Flashback of that kiss he really wasn’t ready for, but Ana had asked. It dawns on him that that was the night Buck disappeared. Why would Buck leave because of that? Chris is repeatedly asking her to leave, but she's not listening. She's not listening to his son. He finally snaps and demands that she leaves. She storms out. Relationship dead in the water.

Carla can only watch as Eddie breaks from it all.

The original plan has failed, so it’s time for the final attempt. A blatant hammer strike to Eddie's head to knock some sense into him.

Bobby calls Eddie into his office. He shows Eddie transfer papers from Buck along with a list of Buck's possessions to be boxed and shipped. Eddie is speechless. Thoughts of Christopher and losing Buck. He's losing Buck.

He shows Eddie an email he received and Eddie slowly scrolls through, It's full of captioned pictures. Such as:

-Buck staring off into the distance on a horse.

-Buck curled on a couch looking lost.

-Buck looking drool-worthy in club clothes. The caption: “Holy sh@t! If I wasn't already happily taken…”

-Showing Buck blushing as someone talks in his ear.

-Smiling yet not reaching his eyes while dancing.

-Sitting with his head buried in his hands on the engine’s bumper.

-Helping man a hose at a large blaze captioned with “Yes, we had permission for him to be there.” Followed by a picture of someone (Paul, but Eddie can’t see his face as he’s looking at the ground and hidden by his helmet) sidehugging a sweaty dusty still geared up Buck around the neck with a hand resting on his head.

A video. It's Buck spilling everything curled up in someone's arms (maybe Carlos or Grace). “Why am I always alone! What about me?” Mentions of Abby and Ali. His failed dates. Everyone pairing up. Losing part of his sister to Chim after finally having her back in his life after so many years apart. “And Eddie! Eddie… Why does love hurt so much?” mentioning Chris. Etc.

Eddie is shaking. It finally clicks why Buck left.

One more video. It's Capt. Strand and the 126 facing the camera. He knows where Buck is now - Austin, Texas.

“Buck doesn't know we're putting all this together. He’s asleep. We may or may not have knocked him out with sleeping pills.”

They all lay it out for Eddie. Eddie feels all kinds of stupid and blind. “Now, you have a choice here, Edmundo Diaz…”

“Why… Oh my god. This entire time… ”

“Do you love him, Eddie? As more than a friend? Or am I signing these papers?”

A few seconds after Eddie runs out of the room, a sigh comes from the speaker phone. “I'll get things set up.”

“Thank you, Owen. For everything.”

“You're welcome.”

The whole firehouse going up in a cheer after Eddie floors out of the parking lot in his thankfully finally fixed truck. Hen is shaking Chim or vice versa.

Carla agrees over the phone to keep Christopher after Eddie blurts everything out to her, ending with a “Go get him, Eddie.”

“Did everyone see this but me?” Carla is laughing as she hangs up.

Buck sees Owen call TK over and whispering in his ear. Tk has an interesting reaction before running out of the room with his phone already to his ear.

Flashbacks as Eddie is scrolling through his pictures on his phone while on an airplane. How he missed it. How he didn't understand himself. His fall had been so slow he hadn't even realized it until it was almost, or maybe is, too late. His seatmate makes a comment on his happy “family," and it’s a kick to Eddie's already flayed emotions.

Judd is there to pick him up at the airport, which surprised him.

He's dropped off at a club. Judd makes a snarky comment after handing Eddie a hotel room key card through the window. Eddie rolls his eyes as Judd drives off laughing. The bouncer, having seen the Diaz blazoned on the back of his LAFD shirt, waves Eddie inside, skipping the line. The whispering starts as soon as he enters. Word had spread and they had been hoping for Buck. “Is that…”

“I think so.”

He's shocked as the crowd starts to part for him. The music lowers in volume. People are staring and he's embarrassed, etc., but he sees Buck, who TK has made sure looks phenomenal. Taking a deep breath, he squares his shoulders and walks forward.

Buck is dancing between Carlos and TK. He feels Carlos start smacking TK on the back before they pull away from him. They’re both grinning so wide he suspects their faces are hurting. TK is not so quietly squealing in excitement.

A hand covers his eyes from behind. He immediately recognizes the body wash smell. “Eddie…”

Mini conversation/argument, neither realizing the club has gone dead silent, with Eddie yelling “Because I love you, you idiot!”

The entire club loses it with TK whooping, jumping with a fist punch, and laughing.

End there with a kiss, at the hotel room which may or may not get steamy, or Buck telling Christopher he's home with Chris tackling him to the ground.

[bellakitse]

could i request #4 from the prompts list please 🤗💕

Moments Worth Waiting For

After TK has an accident at work, Carlos waits with his crew to see if he's okay.

Grace sits with him, lending him a shoulder to rest on.

Carlos Reyes sits in an uncomfortable chair at St. David Medical Center, staring at a closed door of the hospital where his boyfriend once again lies after another brush with death.

“I’m going to kill him,” Judd mutters angrily next to him as he fidgets in his seat. “After we bubble wrap him within an inch of his life, I’m going to kill him. Damn kid is going to send all of us to an early grave from worry.”

Carlos doesn’t say anything, but he understands the sentiment. It’s only been five months since TK got shot, five months since they decided to be together, making them the happiest months of Carlos’ life. Five months and here they are again, scared shitless as they wait to find out if TK is okay after a beam fell on him while answering to a fire in a downtown building.

Getting the call from Captain Strand telling him that TK was in the hospital after an accident had caused his heart to drop to his stomach – hours later, without the chance to see TK yet, his heart hasn’t returned to its rightful place.

“Bubble wrap and caution tape,” Judd continues his ranting, turning to look at him. “You probably have some in your squad car, right, Reyes?”

Carlos opens his mouth only to close it again, not really sure how he should answer the man. Luckily for him, Grace, Judd’s wife, places a hand on him, drawing his attention.

“Judd, darling, why don’t you go get us some coffee,” she says kindly even as her tone lets them know it’s not a suggestion. “You can keep planning to baby proof TK when you come back,” she finishes saying sarcastically.

Judd pouts at Grace’s blatant mocking but still stands up to do as she asks, leaving the space between them free.

“Sorry,” she says to him with a kind smile. “He gripes because he’s worried, it’s just Judd’s way of showing affection.”

Carlos gives her a half-smile to be polite before his eyes stray back to the closed door of the hospital room. Owen had gone in there with the doctor over twenty minutes ago and still nothing, he was slowly going insane.

Grace continues to look at him, a warm tentative look on her pretty face. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine,” Carlos says on autopilot, grimacing when Grace shoots him a look that calls bull shit on his response. “Grace – “ he starts again, only to quiet when Grace’s expression turns no-nonsense.

“There is no one here that understands better than me what you are feeling,” she tells him, her voice serious. Her eyes lock with his, and Carlos can’t look away. He feels his heart catch at her next words. “To be so in love with someone who is always in danger. To have them in a hospital bed and not know if they’re going to be okay. I get that fear better than anyone.”

Carlos swallows hard, the word love echoing in his ears. He knows he loves TK, there isn’t a doubt in his mind of that, but this is the first time the word has been used when it relates to them, and it’s neither of them using it.

“We haven’t said we love each other yet,” he says quietly, giving voice to his thoughts. The smile he gets from Grace in return is as tender as it is amused.

“Sometimes things are obvious even without the words, sweetheart,” Grace says knowingly as she reaches out to take his hand in hers, laughing softly when he gives her a shy smile, feeling bashful at how obvious his feelings are. “But,” she continues with emphasis. “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know?” she tells him with a raised eyebrow. “You should tell him.”

“Tell him what?” he questions quietly, looking around the waiting room again before landing on the door that remains closed despite his silent wishing for it to open already. “That I’m completely and hopelessly in love with him, or that I lose years of my life from worry when he’s in danger. Or maybe, that the idea of losing him makes something in my chest squeeze so hard it seems impossible to catch my breath?”

“I think all that falls under the hopelessly in love category,” she says kindly, chuckling again when he shoots her an exasperated look. She squeezes his hand, letting out a small sigh. “That feeling you described just now, that ‘can’t catch your breath’ feeling?” she questions with a sad, understanding smile on her lips. “I know that feeling all too well, Carlos. It’s exactly how I felt when Judd and the 126 had their accident. It felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room as I waited to see if Judd would wake up, I felt like I was dying.”

Carlos licks his lips anxiously. “Does that feeling stop?” he asks, his spirits lifting when her sad expression brightens.

“It did,” she tells him, her eyes shine with unshed tears; it’s obvious the memory still causes an emotional reaction out of Grace, but she smiles through it. “He opened his eyes and looked at me, and it was like there was oxygen in the room again. It will probably be the same for you.”

Carlos goes to speak when the door of TK’s room opens, a doctor walks out, followed by Owen, who looks around the room as everyone goes to attention.

“He’s okay, he’s awake,” he says, letting out a deep breath that’s echoed by everyone in the waiting room.

The volume in the room goes up as TK’s crew asks to see him, but Owen just shakes his head before turning to look at him. “He’s asking for you, Carlos,” he tells him as the side of his mouth lifts. “Won’t stop, actually.”

Carlos lets out a shaky breath as Grace pats his hand once more before he stands, breaking her gentle hold.

Walking towards the hospital room, he pauses at the door when Owen reaches out and squeezes his shoulder in support before moving to the side to let him in.

He finds green eyes already on him as he steps into the hospital room. TK is sitting up on the bed, white gauzes circle his head, and there are scratches on his face and left arm along with some light burns from the beam that fell on him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks TK, his voice thick as he tries to control his emotions and not sound as scared now as he’s felt since Owen called. The way TK’s gaze on him goes impossibly soft lets him know he’s not very successful.

“I'll feel much better when my boyfriend comes closer,” TK answers, his lips tilting at the corners when Carlos scoffs softly even as he walks towards the bed.

Once he’s within touching distance, TK does just that, and reaches out for his hand.

“And I’ll feel even better when said boyfriend I’m crazy about leans down to kiss me,” he continues, his pretty green eyes dancing with amusement as Carlos shakes his head.

“Needy,” he murmurs, feeling lighter when TK bobs his head in agreement before tipping his chin up, waiting for his kiss.

Carlos brushes his mouth against TK’s, keeping the kiss soft, not wanting to hurt TK’s injured body any more than it already is.

“I was so scared,” Carlos confesses against his mouth, not pulling back even as he sits at the edge of the bed.

“I know,” TK answers, his voice no more than a whisper, his face remorseful as he rests his forehead against Carlos’. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Carlos whispers back. “You were just doing your job.”

“I know,” TK sighs, pressing his forehead a little harder against Carlos’ for a moment before pulling back to look at him. “I just hate making all of you worry,” he continues as he raises his hand, running his thumb over Carlos’ brow. “Especially you, sweetheart. I hate it.”

“I can’t help that,” Carlos says, almost apologetically. “I always worry about you.”

TK smiles softly at him, his eyes shining with affection and love. It echoes the feeling inside his chest, and Carlos remembers Grace's earlier advice.

“TK – I,” he starts only for TK to lift his hand, covering his mouth.

“I know,” TK tells him, and if his expression was full of love seconds ago, it’s nothing compared to now.

“I know, Carlos,” he continues, smiling that special TK smile of his that Carlos loves so much. “And I feel exactly the same way.”

Carlos touches TK’s wrist, bringing the hand over his mouth off his face. “Then why…” he trails off, lifting the hand between them.

“I don’t want the first time we say those words to be here,” TK explains; he brings their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss over Carlos’ knuckles. “I don’t want it to be while I’m in a hospital bed, and you’re worried about me,” he continues, frowning gently as he looks up at him. “I think we deserve better than that baby, don’t you?”

Carlos looks at TK, takes in the marks on his face, the tiredness of his eyes as the day’s event starts to take its toll, making them take on a haziness to their usual bright green, and he realizes TK is right. They do deserve a better moment for their first I love you’s than this. He continues to look at him, the man he loves, and even without the words, knows loves him too, banged up, but alive, and he thanks his lucky stars that they’ll have a chance after today to say those words.

“Yeah, baby, we do,” he agrees, his heart fluttering when TK smiles beautifully at him. “We do.”

TK is still smiling when he tugs him in closer, and he’s still smiling when they kiss. “We’ll get that moment, sweetheart,” he whispers against his lips before kissing him again.

A week later, when TK is safe and out of the hospital. When he’s in his arms as they get ready for bed and TK says those words, pressing them into the skin below his ear, his heart feeling fuller than it’s ever felt before, he knows the moment was worth the wait.

[andawaywego]

A fic where Damie say their first “I love you’s”?

hey! yes! this! i’ve had a few requests for this and i hope you don’t mind, but i set it in a No-Ghosts, Modern AU bc why not? we see what i assume is Jamie’s first “i love you” in the show, which i may touch on later, but i wanted this quiet scene surrounded by the people they love first.

i hope you like it!

..

In the early hours of the day, the kitchen is chilly and mute, blue-gray sunlight drifting in through the windows to cast empty shadows across the counters and floors. The wind rattles through the house, sliding in through any gap it can find, and Jamie thinks that, if she tilts her head just so, she can hear the way the boards beneath her feet, the wood and stone surrounding her, bend and bulge to make room for it.

She tucks herself a little tighter into her sweater and looks across the table at Flora and Miles as they happily eat their cereal, talking to one another and Hannah. Owen is leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, his cup of tea cradled in his hands and steaming a little, still. Providing warmth, perhaps, where the house tries to leech it. Beside her, Dani shifts and their shoulders brush together and, as much of a jolt passes through her at the slight touch, the real magic is this:

That secret, little smile Dani sends her way after. 

Like they are each from a hidden world that belongs to only them—where they exist and twine together in one existence, away from the prying eyes of everyone else—and are only visiting this realm for breakfast, of all things. It says a hundred secrets they’ve whispered in the dark to one another, limbs laced together warmly beneath the sheets as they caught their breath, as they kissed slowly and loose-lipped. Learning and familiar.

It’s been six months of nights spent tangled together in Dani’s bed. Six months of dinner dates in the empty kitchen late at night; of drinks at the only pub in Bly and phone calls before bed. Six months of Dani slowly figuring out sexting and Jamie nearly regretting teaching her about it when she’s interrupted in the middle of the work day with a less-than-appropriate message or worse: photograph.

Six months after that first kiss in June when they’d been walking the grounds one evening. Jamie saying something about her lost family, her shadowed childhood, and Dani turning right then and there and just kissing her. Beneath the sunset-pinked trees at the edge of the property, the heat of the summer pressing down against her skin, sticking her tight to her clothes, as Jamie presses forward into it. 

Dani.

Jamie loves Dani. 

It’s been right there on the tip of her tongue for three full months. She’s come so close to blurting it out on more than one occasion that she’s talked to Owen about it. Hannah. She’s called Rebecca in London and asked for advice on when she’s allowed to just say it. More than once for each of them.

So often, in fact, that Dani might be the only person sitting at the table that doesn’t actually know.

It aches in her chest, rattling around and begging to be set free, but Jamie hasn’t yet. Is too frightened, perhaps. Or maybe there just hasn’t been a good enough time.

Whatever it is, Jamie can see her own pinching emotion reflected back at her from Dani’s smile that morning so clearly that it’s nearly blinding. She’s waxing poetic about wanting to spend a fevered hour beneath the heat of Dani’s mouth in her own mind when Miles’s voice catches her off guard.

“—this afternoon, Miss Clayton?” he is saying.

Dani tears her eyes from Jamie’s and blinks, dazed, then seems to catch up. 

“What’s that?” she asks. Then, “Sorry.”

But Miles doesn’t mind. Doesn’t even register her apology. Just repeats his, “I was asking if we’ll still be painting the school room today,” with little fanfare.

Understanding blesses the soft lines of Dani’s expression. “Yeah, of course,” she says. “You and Flora are going to have to put on clothes that can get paint on them, though, okay?”

Miles nods and Flora lights up the room with a smile of her own. “Oh, splendid,” she says. “I had a dream last night that we all painted a family of bears on the wall! One for each of us. Owen, yours had a mustache.”

“Did it?” Owen asks. “Sounds like a handsome bear.”

“Oh, he was.”

The conversation falls apart then, the children too excited about how they’ll be spending their day to settle down. That’s one of the funny things about Dani: before she showed up, it was like pulling teeth trying to get Miles or Flora to participate in anything resembling a chore. The school room is one that’s needed repainting for a long time—given the humidity of the rainier seasons and its position in the house, the paint has been chipping for years. Jamie always figured that, at some point, she was going to have to just give in and do it on her own, but, now that Dani is here, it seems she’s acquired three new sets of helping hands. Maybe it’s the years of teaching two dozen students in America, or maybe it’s just a special talent, but Dani has managed to turn the mundane into the extraordinary so many times that Jamie wonders sometimes if she might actually be Mary Poppins.

Wonders if that makes her Bert.

Briefly imagines dancing with a cartoon penguin and almost jumps out of her chair when a hand touches her arm.

But it’s just Dani, giving her a look that’s half-amused, half-concerned. “Sorry,” she says, but Jamie shakes her head.

“Don’t hafta apologize for touching me, Poppins,” she says, giving a little wink, and Dani’s cheeks blush pink. “Just caught me off guard.”

Beneath the table, Dani’s hand is still on Jamie’s arm, her grip loose and lovely, sparking like wires up and down the length of Jamie’s skin. She remembers that morning—Dani pressed into her back beneath the covers, one of her arms wrapped around Jamie’s stomach, her fingers moving fluidly and madly between Jamie’s legs. She clenches her thighs together and tries to calm down. 

It doesn’t work.

That’s the thing she’s learned the most often since that first kiss in the gardens: being with Dani is almost like being on fire all the time. Jamie can’t seem to catch a break, and she really believes now that she wouldn’t even take one if it were offered.

“You’re so pretty,” Dani breathes, but that’s clearly not what she’d meant to say. It just comes out in this drifting voice that Jamie recognizes because she has one just like it. Part of her is constantly reassured when Dani speaks like this that she is not the only one left dazed by their each interaction. 

“So are you,” Jamie says. “Before you ask, I’m going to go pick up the paint after breakfast.”

Dani’s eyebrows lift a little, then settle back down. That’s what she’d meant to discuss, apparently, and, now that Jamie has finished the thought for her, she seems a bit more in control of herself and the situation. 

“You’re a saint,” she says next and Jamie rolls her eyes.

“Hardly.”

Across the table, Hannah is getting to her feet and the children are doing the same, grabbing their used dishes and toddling after the older woman to take them to the sink. Dani and Jamie linger at the table for a beat, neither of them willing to release the other from their hold when faced with a long day spent beneath the watchful, innocent eyes of two children.

Finally, Owen stands up and they have no choice. Their only alternative is to spend the rest of the day sitting right there and Jamie thinks she’d end up getting a little stiff if they decided on that. 

Dani offers to take Jamie’s mug to the sink and Jamie smiles.

Says, “Thanks,” and watches her girlfriend make her way over, setting the dishes she’s carrying on the counter beside where Miles is obediently filling up the sink with warm, soapy water.

“Who’s going to be my dish-dryer?” she asks, her voice enthusiastic despite the content of her question. 

Still—magic as ever—Miles and Flora flood the air with eager I will’s and let me’s. 

Owen gives Dani an impressed look. Hannah just smiles and leans against the island counter. 

“I’m gonna head to the hardware shop,” Jamie says, seemingly to no one in particular, but it has its intended effect. 

Dani turns around from the sink and smiles over at her. “You really are a saint,” she says without a hint of joking.

“Just make sure the little gremlins are dressed and ready when I get back,” Jamie tells her. “Housework waits for no man.”

“Hear, hear!” Owen says and Dani laughs as she steps around the counter to reach Jamie, still standing there.

“If you think of anything else you’ll need, let me know,” Jamie says and Dani nods, reaching out to touch Jamie’s cold hand with her own. 

“I will,” she says. “Thank you. Again.”

Jamie shrugs. “No trouble. Won’t take too long.”

Normally, this would be the part where Dani would give her a quick peck on the cheek or on the lips and say her goodbyes. Just a quick thing because they’re half-a-year into being together and that’s the sort of thing couples do. Or so Jamie has seen on TV and is learning now—she hadn’t much experience before Dani. It’s happened so often in the past that it’s practically routine now, but things are different just then.

Something changes.

Because Dani does lean in and give Jamie a quick kiss on the lips. She does say, “Hurry back,” like she normally might have, but there’s an extra part thrown in at the last second. 

“Love you.”

Dani says it so quickly, so thoughtlessly, that Jamie responds before she even processes the significance of those two words.

She just says, “Love you, too,” and goes to pull away.

But, before she can, everything comes crashing into her like a freight train. Dani seems to be undergoing the same realization Jamie is given the way her eyes are wide and unblinking.

They stare at each other for a moment—seemingly forever. Dani stands in front of Jamie, the light from outside brightening her hair into a halo like an angel’s, and her blood is pumping swift through her heart and veins. It’s strange that all she’s doing is standing in the kitchen—Miles and Flora and Hannah and Owen standing just behind Dani—and yet she feels like she could very suddenly run to the moon and back without needing a break. 

Like she could fly or spread her arms around the world without an ounce of trouble and squeeze it tight. Like she should because Dani just said she loves her and shouldn’t that make her capable of anything?

She thinks so.

“I love you,” she hears herself say, slower this time, making sure that Dani understands.

Dani’s lips part just barely and she nods like she’s agreeing to something, but Jamie isn’t sure what. “I love you, too,” she says. “Hey.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie asks, her eyes tracing the gentle shape of Dani’s face, the dip of her nose and the slender arch of her neck. 

Dani leans forward a little, their foreheads brushing. “I love you,” she repeats.

Their lips brush together, soft and singing reverence in a kiss that can’t be sustained because each of them is smiling too much for that. Cool fingers wrap themselves around Jamie’s hands and it very suddenly doesn’t matter who else is in the room for this. It might as well just be them.

An ordinary morning. Breakfast in the kitchen and work to do later. After a night spent doing normal things; making dinner together and watching TV. Jamie vacuumed her flat and Dani wiped down her counters and then they fell into bed together because that’s what it is to love someone. 

That’s how you do it.

In the little in-between times. Love in offering your jacket when it’s cold; in pressing your chilled toes against the warmth of your other’s skin; in brushing your teeth side-by-side and holding hands when you’re waiting in line with your shopping basket at the market.

What is so frightening about that?

What better time to say it than when you can’t keep it contained any longer?

Nothing.

There isn’t a better time.

Easy does it.

Life ticks on around them—the children laughing and splashing one another with water, Owen making a joke that only Hannah finds funny, and that soft, green paint waiting to be picked up in town—but Jamie takes a moment to breathe. To let the puzzle pieces slide together, colors mixing in and stirring out smooth. Clean.

Leans in and kisses Dani again, longer this time, and says what she’s been wanting to say all along, which is this:

“I love you, Dani. I love you, too.”

..

[luna-jaden-shadow]

A Bit Of Luck

Request - Hi.. if you’re still taking requests, could I ask for a Derek shepherd x Sloan!reader where she’s on the plane with them, and gets paralyzed, and they try some really experimental surgery to get her to walk again? And it’s about her recovery and angst and fluff? Maybe mark lives in this version? Thanks so much Xx

Angst & Fluff

Warning - Season 8/9 spoilers!, Panic Attacks, Character Death, Blood, Gore,

Pairing - Derek Shepherd X Sloan!Reader 

-><-

-><-

There’s this moment when you think you’re going to die, when your body is so certain that this is the end of you. If you ask anyone they’ll tell you that your whole life flashes in front of you. You didn’t see flashes when the unthinkable happened. You didn’t see your first fight with your brother, how you tried so hard to fit in with him and the guy you fell in love with. You didn’t even see your first kiss.

You saw your first OR in Seattle when it happened. Dr. Webber’s words were in your head, the first time you’d been in that hospital since you moved there. When you opened your eyes the first time what you thought were the bright lights of the OR, shining down on a patient was actually the sun, coming through the trees and smoke. 

What you wanted to hear was music, the soft selection of your playlist that you always had on when you operated. Instead, it was ringing. What had happened? You couldn’t recall, last you remembered was being sat on a plane beside Derek. It didn’t lick right away that it was real, maybe you fell asleep on the plane and this was a dream? Some twisted nightmare. 

When you turned your head, despite everything telling you not to you could see Mark. He as just starting to come to. Past the ringing you could hear Arizona’s screams, Meredith was a few feet away from you, whether she was awake or not couldn’t tell. Cristina was up, trying to get Meredith up, so many things were running through your head once the ringing died away. 

You knew a few things right off the bat, your back hurt, your right side hurt, you couldn’t for the life of you, move your legs. “Mark.” It came out as a whisper, your voice not seeming to want to work at all. “Mark?” Your voice came out louder that time as he gets to his feet. “Mark?” His eyes lock with yours and he was at your side and you could hear the thunder in the distance. 

His eyes scan over you, the doctor in him was coming out but the brother side was winning. “Y/n, hey.” He’s too scared to touch you and it shows. “You’re gonna be okay, okay? What hurt?” He gently cups your face as you cry. 

A sob passes your lips, as you look at your brother. He was alive and that’s what stuck to you. “My, my side, my back.” You close your eyes for a moment, your lip trembles. “Mark I can’t feel my legs.” This passes over him that you’d never seen on him, maybe once when you fell off your bike for the first time. 

He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your head. “Uh it’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna. Get your spine stabilized okay? I got you, okay? I got you.” He disappears from your sight and you look at Meredith and Cristina and your eyes narrow through the tears. 

You groan when Meredith helps Mark slide the large board of wood under you. “Derek? Where’s. . .where’s Derek?” You let out a shaky breath as they tape you down to the board, head and all to keep you straight. “Mark?” He grabs your hand. “I’m scared.” Mark nods, another kiss to your head. 

“I know Y/n, I know. But we’re gonna be okay you know? We’re gonna go and find Lexie and Derek and you’re gonna stay right here and keep talking to Arizona for me okay? You two stay awake. Can you do that for me?” You can see him tear up and you almost nod. 

You give him a small smile. “Yeah, yeah I can do that.” Mark takes another moment before smiling and heading off with Meredith and Christina. You can’t remember most of the rest of the time before nightfall. You remember Derek coming back with them, dragging Mark on a tarp. Lexie was dead from what they told you. Nightfall brought forth the cold. You didn’t think you’d be so cold even with the fire lit. They laid Mark beside you, put a cover over the two of you so you wouldn’t freeze. Derek wouldn’t leave your side.

“Mark.” He hums beside you, probably looking as pale as you. “When we get back to Seattle. Remind me to kick Hunt's butt. Sorry, Cristina.” Mark lets out a strained laugh and you smile.

Mark holds your hand under the cover. “When we get back.” He starts, his voice is weak. “We’re gonna get you fixed right up. You’re gonna sit in with me on surgery and everything. . .everything’s gonna be okay.”

The next thing you remember after that was suddenly being in a hospital room. These people, these doctors you didn’t know they were there looking you over. You were laying on a bed, and they were saying things you couldn’t make out. Maybe it was shock, everything changed everything went from dying in the woods to these people, these doctors you didn’t know. Where were your people?!

You remember freaking out in that room as they tried to tell you to stay still. You had to get out, you had to find Mark and Derek. Then the people you knew, they were there. Bailey and Webber, they were there for you, for your people who were elsewhere. You were as calm as you could be. They sedated all of you, putting you on a plane after your second freak out, they said it was a panic attack both times.

Seattle Grace hasn’t felt so dark since the shooting that nearly killed Derek and Alex. People came in and out a lot as the days went by. They were in there a lot, Alex and the group, minus Cristina. One day Mark walks in, smiling, Sophia’s with him, making you smile just cause she’s there. 

You reach out for the toddler as Mark walks closer. “Hey, there princess.” You almost cry, this being the first time since the crash that you’ve seen her. You take her from Mark, tearing up as she sits on your lap, that’s what it kicks in again, you can’t feel her weight on your lap. “How are you?” Your voice cracks and she knows its time to be a certain way as she did this thing where she makes baby noises, holding your finger in her hands. 

You lean your head forward, resting your forehead on hers. Mark sets his hand on your shoulder. “We’re gonna take you home today.” You look over at Mark, who smiled softly at you. “Derek’s not done till late so Sophia and I are gonna keep you company and maybe order some take out?” You smile, laughing a little bit as you nod. 

“I’d like that. Thank you, Mark.” He kisses your head, saying he’s gonna sign you out and leaves you with Sophia in the room. “What do you think about that huh? Wanna come spend the day with me and Markie?” She smiles, babbling at you. Going home was probably the best thing you’d heard since before the crash. 

It didn’t take long for Derek to change the house for you, he was willing to do anything for you. “Let me pitch you something,” Derek says one day, getting into his clothes for work. You sit on the bed, reading before looking up at him. “It’s gonna sound crazy.” He starts and you smile.

“I love crazy.” He laughs, nodding as he walks over, sitting on the bed in front of you.

He’s nervous, running his hand through his hair. “I’ve been reading, and thinking, and some more reading.” He chuckles, shaking his head again. “I think I can do it.”

You tilt your head, setting your book aside. “Do what?”

He gives this toothy smile, the one he gets when he’s excited about an idea, every part of him is ecstatic. “Make you walk.”

-><-

“You got this.” Mark holds your hands just as tight as you hold his. “You can do this.” You grunt, moving so that you're holding each other's arms. Slowly, you rise from the bed, unsteady and with a month of preparation behind you, you step. You smile, gasping in surprise. “Holy shit.” You start to cry, smiling up at Mark. “Mark!”

“Easy Y/n.” Your shocked, wishing nothing more than to keep ongoing. 

“One more step.” You insist, looking him in the eye. “Come on Mark, please?” 

With a sigh, he lets you take another step, which leads to the two of you on the ground. The joy of walking again was gone, reduced to your feeling of failure. Maybe you weren’t meant to walk again. Maybe it was just a pipe dream. “That was good.” Mark insists. You stare at your legs, glaring at the limbs. “We’ll try again in a day or so, work towards it. You can do this. And when you do, you can kick Owen’s butt.”

[tarlosprompts]

Self-Destruct (Part 2)

@rachbabe007​ : 😭😍 if you’re up to do a part to where the 126 family tell tk why they love him. I would totally love that. And I loved this❤️😘

Hope you like it, Red💋!

Warnings: addiction, cursing, drug addiction, depressed mood

Part 1

TK had changed into some of Carlos’s clothes. It was comforting how big they were on him. It was like a hug from Carlos himself. Carlos watched over him as he slept in his room. TK looked so much younger without the worry across his face and whatever thoughts had been going through his head when he arrived. 

The knock at the door startled him. He quickly made his way to the door, not wanting to wake the slumbering man. He raised an eyebrow at the whole crew standing in front of his door. “Should I be worried that you aren’t out doing your job and your fire truck is parked in front of my house?”

“Is my son here,” Owen blatently ignored the previous questions. He was worried about TK, after the call and his blow up at the station, Owen was beginning to wonder if TK had relapsed. He didn’t want to doubt TK, but the sheer amount of negative emotion that was going through his son would be enough to at least make TK think about relapsing. If he wasn’t at Carlos’s, Owen would pull strings to have the whole fire department and police department on the lookout for his son. 

“He’s actually sleeping right now. Would you like to explain to me why he came to my home in the middle of shift with blood and bruises? Or why he asked me why I would choose to be with him when I could have anyone else? Or maybe you could explain to me just what the fuck caused that look on his face.”

Carlos stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him. He really didn’t want to wake TK up with this talk. He knew that the man could be sensitive when he was the topic of conversation, but he needed to know what was going on with his boyfriend. 

“He’s been in a mood for the past few days. I’m sure you’ve noticed since he’s around you most of the time,” Paul started. 

“Actually, we’ve been working opposite shifts, I haven’t seen him in person in four days.”

“Well shit, that doesn’t help,” Judd stated. “He’s been in a mood for the past few days. Bit my head off when I tried to talk to him about it. We got a call today to a drug house. Drug bust gone wrong and part of the house was a hide out for those who wanted to get high. Two teens had fallen through part of the floor.”

“So TK and I went down in the hole after he told Cap that since he wasn’t benched, he wanted to do his job. Whatever one of the teens took had hallucinogenic properties. He thought we were there to hurt his friend. TK got hit in the head and explained what was going on. He had me go find the other teen while he dealt with the one attacking him. By the time I got back, TK was bloodied and holding a struggling teen down,” Marjan sighed.

Carlos bit his lip to keep from interrupting. He wanted to ask why she had thought it was a good idea to leave her partner to deal with a violent drugged teen, but he needed to hear the rest of the story. “So Judd made a joke when they got back up there. I think he was trying to diffuse the situation, but TK didn’t take it well and walked off. He was shaking real bad, even before the joke. When we got back to the station, TK went to go to the shower, but Cap said that they needed to talk. TK asked if they could do that after he had a shower, but Cap insisted and mentioned how he’d been acting...then TK blew up,” Mateo shook his head as if he was thinking back to the argument.

“He started to rant about how he fucked everything good up in his life. Talked about how he did that with drugs and how he was currently self destructing his life. He talked about how every time he thought something was going good, he would just mess it up. He complained that we all walked on eggshells around him after he told us about his addiction. He said he was waiting for us to slip through his fingers like everything else in his life does. He mentioned his ex and what happened in New York and how he relapsed. He said that we were like family and he was afraid of losing us and he didn’t know how we could put up with him,” Paul recalled.

“Then we thought he had gone to take that shower, but after fifteen minutes, I got worried. Usually when TK needs to think about things, he takes ten to fifteen minutes in the shower to work through everything...but when I checked, I couldn’t find him and I just worried with all of those negative thoughts and emotions that he...maybe he thought-”

“-that he would relapse,” Carlos glared. “He wouldn’t. I don’t care if he has in the past, he’s determined not to slide back down the hill, Captain. Want my advice on how to handle this?”

Owen stared at him for a moment before nodding. “You have to show him how much he means to each of you. You, individually, need to tell him how much he means to you. You have to roll with the negative emotions and thoughts he’s having because if you just blatantly ignore them, they’re going to fester and get worse. You have to show him that you’re going to be there for him even during the worst of his addiction recovery.”

“But we do that, don’t we,” Judd asked, looking at the crew. 

“Think about it then come up with a better plan. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d actually like all of you to get to work. I’ll take care of TK. You’ll see him on Thursday.”

___________

Thursday

TK wasn’t excited about being dropped off at work. After spending two and a half days with Carlos, he didn’t want to leave. Carlos had said that his Captain had made him take the two days with him off, but TK knew better. Carlos wanted to make sure he was okay...that he wouldn’t relapse and overdose. 

TK had woken up in the time that Carlos had been out with his crew. He knew that they told him everything that happened. He loves his boyfriend, but it was frustrating to think that everyone thought he would just relapse and be done with it. At this point he should just do it so they’ll stop waiting for it to happen. 

TK is stiff in Carlos’s hug. He mumbles some response to Carlos’s wishes for him to have a good day at work. “Love you, Tiger.”

“Yeah,” TK whispers, hugging Carlos a little closer despite his want to separate himself from every interaction. 

It’s a long walk from the Camaro to the station. All of his steps were hesitant. He shook his hands out as he hurried his steps. He needed to get this over with. No matter how long it takes, he needs to get the air cleared to keep the anxiety from taking over again. 

He hurried to the locker room, avoiding the crew that was coming in and leaving. He just needed a few seconds to get everything together. As he opened his locker, multiple pieces of paper fell out. Brow furrowed, TK picked the paper up, turning them around to read them.

You’re so strong, TK. I look up to you.

TK, you’re not weak for your addiction, you’re one of the strongest of us, brother.

Teek, you deserve more than the hand you were dealt in New York. We’re not going to slip through your fingers...you’re kind of stuck with us.

I think it’s time someone took care of you instead of the other way around, TK. We all have our demons, it’s okay to talk about it with us.

You’re the greatest thing in my life, Tyler Kennedy. Everything I do, I do for you because you are my light, Kid.

Your smile lights up the room.

Your laugh is contagious.

You have amazing hair, just like your old man.

Your heart is so big and is always on your sleeve, I love how you care about everyone you meet.

Your humor is something to be reckoned with. 

We love you and your demons. We don’t think less of you. You’re human, things happen. We’re here for you, whatever you need.

TK clutched at the notes. His head was bowed as he took deep breaths. He was not going to cry in front of his crew again. He licked his lips as he tidied up the stack of notes, putting them in a spot where they wouldn’t be crushed or messed up. It meant a lot that his team was willing to write notes for him...but he shouldn’t need notes to make himself feel better. It’s childish. 

He changed and headed up to the loft. He gave strained smiles to those he passed. No matter what the notes said, it wasn’t that easy to do. He couldn’t just open up and let all his demons out. He didn’t want to push anyone way more than he already did. Buttercup ran up to him, winding around his legs. Noticing a note attached to him, TK raised an eyebrow. He bent down and showered Buttercup with attention and grabbed the note. I mean, the dog loves you so you can’t be as terrible as you think you are. Dogs usually hate ‘bad people’. In fact, I’m pretty sure you are just as amazing as Buttercup’s treats. 

A startled laugh left his throat as he read the note. He shook his head, petting Buttercup again. Maybe he wasn’t so terrible...but he’d still caused his dad to watch him die three times, so he doesn’t rule out that he isn’t terrible. 

And so, that’s how the rest of the day went. He’d find random notes throughout the firestation and even in his turnout. Some of them were in compartments in the truck. No one had said anything directly, but he could tell they were trying to figure out his reaction to the notes. 

By the end of shift, TK felt lighter...maybe that’s why he had Carlos go out and get a cookie cake with the words ‘I love you guys too, thanks’ on it. No matter the dietary differences of the crew, he knew they’d all like the cake. That’s how Carlos ended up at the station thirty minutes before shift ended. 

Carlos had sneaked into the station and set up the cake by the time the crew had gotten back from their call. A full smile fell on TK’s lips as he saw Carlos. He wrapped his arms around the man, pressing a kiss into his neck. “I love you. Thank you for doing this.”

Carlos gave him a wide smile. “Love you too, Amor. You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Cake?” TK and Carlos walked into the kitchen. 

“I thought everyone would enjoy a piece of cake since you’re all so sweet,” he smirked at his pun as his dad groaned and Carlos let out a surprised laugh.

“You didn’t have to thank us with a cake,” Marjan stated.

“I know...just like I know you didn’t have to write all of those notes.” 

“We’d do anything for you, Brother,” Judd stated, cookie cake halfway to his mouth, “especially if you buy us cake after each thing we do-not that that’s the only reason we’re going to be there for you...but cake is just amazing.” Judd winked at him as TK rolled his eyes.

“If I bought a cake every time you helped me out, Judd…” he trailed off, a shit eating smile on his face.

“Okay, come here short stack. I’ll show you just how not fat I am.”

[lonestarbabe]

Mom’s In Town

T.K. struggles when his mom comes into town. The 126 and Carlos help him through, and prod him to make amends with his mother. (AO3)

---

“You didn’t tell me that your mom was in town,” Owen says. His tone is casual, but T.K. can feel the tension radiating from his father. The team stiffens, and they try to mind their own business, but T.K. doesn’t doubt they’ll hang onto every word, so he’s got to be careful with what he says. Just like he always was just before the divorce, during it, and then after. He’d always been sure to say the right the things to the right parent. He excels at splitting himself into different people based on what the situation requires.

His mom has been in town for just a few hours, and T.K. feels like a little kid again, standing between his parents’ fighting, feeling completely unheard. Gwyneth and Owen have learned how to play nice for his sake, but the old feelings always return in specks, built up and matted together like lint from the dryer. His parents are scarily cordial around T.K., but he knows that they talk shit about each other when he isn’t around. They had too many unresolved issues in their marriage to have zero unresolved issues during their divorce. The worst part is that T.K. knows that his parents still have gushy, fond centers for each other. They don’t hate each other. They just act like they hate each other because it is easier to be hateful than to acknowledge that they’d always love each other, even if tragedy made it impossible for them to ever be together again.

Owen was the one to mess everything up, but he’s a hero, and there’s not much T.K.’s ever been able to criticize Owen on that doesn’t somehow end up being about 9/11. Everything between them is about 9/11, but 9/11 is also something that they don’t mention expect to honor all those lives that were lost. Because nothing he says can compare to 9/11, T.K. finds himself being angrier with his mom about everything that went wrong with his childhood, even though she’s the one who actually gave a damn when, by some freak accident, he won his second grade spelling bee or when he starred in his fourth grade play about the planets or when he had ambitions of being a tennis star when all the sixth grade boys at his cushy private school thought that tennis was cool.

To keep his hands busy, T.K. gets to work washing the firetruck, and even as he’s handling this big machine, he still feels like that eight-year-old using his toy firetruck to put out the burning anxiety that raised voices have always caused. “I didn’t know that you needed to know everything mom does,” T.K. says with a terseness to his voice. It’s about as angry as he ever gets with Owen, especially since Owen’s diagnosis. It feels wrong to yell at someone who was sick.

“It just seems like something you’d mention.” Owen’s voice is still so casual, and it grates on T.K.’s nerves because he can feel himself being put in the middle and asked to show his loyalty. For nearly twenty years, he’s been asked covertly to take sides, and despite his bitterness, he’s almost always taken Owen’s.

“I didn’t ask her to come.” T.K. won’t admit that his mom being there felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He’d missed her. They weren’t that close, not like he and his dad, but sometimes, he still just wanted to be close to her and smell the perfume that she still wore even after all these years.

“It would be okay if you did.” That line was from the “How to Be Nice About Your Ex in front of Your Kid” handbook, and T.K. saw right through it with a stinging skepticism he always had when it came to his parents.

“I don’t know why she bothered. I probably won’t have time to see her, anyway.” She could enjoy the sights of Austin without him because seeing her would be too complicated. She’d be pissed off, but she’d been disappointed by Strand men enough to know not to get her hopes up.

“You can’t ignore you mom, son.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of hard to ignore.” The truth was that T.K. wouldn’t actually not see her. He wasn’t that much of a jerk as much as he wished he was. He couldn’t stay away if he tried.

“Why don’t you go to dinner one night? Bring Carlos along. Your mom would love meeting him.” She’d subtly hinting that she wanted to meet Carlos for weeks. T.K. had mostly brushed her suggestions off, but Carlos might be a good buffer. He was great with moms from what T.K. had seen. No one charmed middle aged ladies better.

“Yeah, maybe,” T.K. says before getting back to work. He doesn’t want that conversation to linger because there’s too many blisters that might just pop open if he pokes too hard. Even when Owen gets the message to let the conversation drop, T.K. still feels a grumpiness come over him.

---

Paul is the first of the 126 to bring up T.K.’s foul mood. He broaches the topic carefully, giving T.K. that knowing look, the one that says, “I’m not going to push you but prepare for some light prodding.” T.K. almost runs away when he sees that look, but he’s in the middle of lifting a weight, so he doesn’t have much choice but to stick around. He groans, and he’s not sure if it’s from heaving the weight up or the heaviness of what he knows Paul is about to say.

“My parents got divorced when I was young too, you know,” Paul says. “It sucks.”

T.K. sits up on the bench, and he really doesn’t want to be part of the divorced parents’ club. He acts like he’s over it. Pretends that it was best for everyone. Deludes himself into thinking that the divorce cured a lot of heartache. Maybe it helped his parents, but for T.K., the divorce was didn’t make anything easier for T.K. “It sucked more when they were fighting all the time. The divorce was a relief.” Relief was the wrong word, but it felt like the right thing to say, the thing that a well-adjusted kid of divorce would say. The divorce didn’t change anything. It just made things quieter, and the quiet only made T.K. feel more alone.

“Yeah, I get that, man. My dad was a new person once he divorced my mom. Happier. Mom took more time, but eventually, she was happier too.” The issue with T.K.’s parents was that no one was happier. The divorce left them all sullen and heartbroken.

“What about you? Were you happier?” T.K. could’ve been happier post-divorce, maybe, but for whatever reason, he’d never stopped being angry about it. After 9/11, he stopped feeling like he had a family.

“It took time. Less time than my mom but more than my dad. My sister took the longest of us all, but we figured it out. We learned to be a family again without being a family together. For a long time, I thought that coming out as trans would send ripples through my family and destroy the steadiness we’d finally found, but I realized that I couldn’t run away from myself to please them.”

“That’s an unfair burden to carry.” T.K. comments. He doesn’t like where this conversation is heading, but he doesn’t want to invalidate Paul’s feelings, especially because he doesn’t know exactly what trauma Paul has faced for being trans.

Paul gives a half-smile. “Yeah, but it turned out okay in the end. It took a little adjustment, but we survived it.”

“Sometimes surviving is all you can do.” T.K. picks up a weight and starts doing bicep curls. He looks down at the pendant hanging around his neck. “After 9/11, my dad never really came back to us. He got obsessed with the job, and to be a part of his life, I had to become obsessed with the job as well.” T.K. realizes that he’s said more than he wanted to, and he tries to backtrack. If only you could press the undo button on the things you say. “What I mean is that we worked out our shit.”

Paul quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so?” but he doesn’t comment on it any farther.

---

Judd is blunter when he brings it up. “You angry at your dad?” T.K. looks up sharply. They’re just supposed to be playing foosball, not taking a deep dive into T.K.’s psychological state. Everyone seems to have thoughts about how he must be feeling.

T.K. plays it cool because getting angry will be a dead giveaway that he’s defensive and when he’s defensive, he’s probably avoiding the full truth. “Nope. We get along great. We couldn’t spend as much time together as we do if we didn’t. I’m not sure why you think something is wrong.”

“You can get along great and still be angry. Feelings are complex.” Cowboy Judd was now an expert on feelings.

Judd doesn’t stop there. Of course, he doesn’t. Judd doesn’t stop until he’s drilled it through his head what he wants you to hear. He’s not about subtlety. “You know I love my dad, but we haven’t always gotten along. There use to be a time when we’d bicker all the time. Couldn’t be in the same room without fighting.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. I guess we stopped dancing around each other and we started saying what we were really mad about. No point in keeping it hidden.”

“My dad and I don’t even fight, not really.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have stuff to fight over.”

“We’re fine Judd.”

“You’ve been tense ever since your mom came into town.”

“Then, maybe she’s the one I’m mad at.”

“Maybe or maybe she’s just the one you take your anger out on.”

T.K.’s defenses go up. “Whatever.” Judd gets the memo, and he goes back to focusing on the game.

Judd hits the ball, putting it into the goal.  “Game over, pretty boy. You can’t cheat your way into winning.”

“I don’t cheat.”

Judd laughs, “Sure you don’t, spin master.” Judd gets more serious. “You can’t run from who you are forever either.”

“I don’t try to,” But Judd’s words stuck with him. Sometimes the cowboy could pretty damn wise. Must’ve been Grace’s influence. She rounded out Judd’s edges. Judd and T.K. they were a lot alike- hot blooded and quick to fire up. They used their passion to be better at their jobs, but too often, their passion burned them.

---

Dinner with his mom starts as it always does. They hug and Gwyneth kisses him on the cheek, smiling broadly and saying how handsome he looks. Then, T.K. introduces Carlos to his mom, and she fawns over him, look positively delighted that T.K. found such a nice man. She’d hated Alex, and most of T.K.’s boyfriends before that.

They sit at the table, and T.K. can feel his anxiety rising up the longer they sit. Carlos is great. He’s filling the gaps of the conversation and the perfect balance of cheerful to T.K.’s sullen. Gwyn can’t get enough. Carlos has her laughing, and it sends a bitter jolt through T.K. that he’s the only one not having fun.

“So, Tyler, how’s your job been?” Owen had gotten T.K. in the divorce while Gwyn had gotten Tyler.

“What do you care?” T.K. snaps.

Hurt fills her face, and Carlos looks alarm at the shift in mood. “I’m your mom. Of course, I care.”

“You hate that I’m a firefighter.” She thought his job was too dangerous, especially after he got shot, but mostly, he figures that she was mad that he’d move across the country with his dad instead of staying behind with her.

She shakes her head, her smiling becoming tense, but she’s obviously trying to control her emotions. She’s an expert of controlling when she wants to. “That’s not true. It’s what you’ve always wanted to be.”

“Yeah, but you think it’s only because of dad. You’re bitter that I chose what he wanted instead of what you wanted,” he’s really lashing out now, and he can’t help the words rolling off his tongue. He’s doing the equivalent of yelling, but his voice is softer as to not cause a scene in the restaurant.

“All I’ve ever wanted was for you to do what made you happy. I worried you were just being a firefighter to please your dad. I never had a problem with you choosing to be like him. I fell in love with your dad in part because he followed his passions and wanted to help people.”

T.K. rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I like those things about T.K. too,” Carlos chirps, trying to ease some of the tension, and it only does enough that T.K. shuts up, trying to get through the dinner. He gets through. Just barely, and not without getting in a few snippy remarks.

Carlos is seething after the dinner. They get back to Carlos’ apartment, and T.K. just wants to blow off some steam, but Carlos isn’t in a kissing mood. “Why were you such an asshole to your mom? You’d never yell at your dad like that.” T.K. doesn’t want to have to keep defending himself to everyone he knows. They don’t know what it was like back in New York when he was a kid trying to balance out his parents’ wishes, and always having to be a disappointment no matter what he did.

“Because she doesn’t give a damn about what I want. She’s upset that I chose to be a firefighter instead of a lawyer or whatever else she wanted me to be.”

“She only asked you how your job was, and you flipped out! You got mad at her when she asked anything about you.”

“That’s how my parents are! Everything they say is a chess game trying to make me choose a side. Every time they ask about my interests or what I want, they’re really just trying to test who I love more. That question about New York… that was her trying to get me to say that I like her home better than his.” She had asked if T.K. missed the city. T.K. said he didn’t, but T.K. would always miss the city, at least a little. He loves Austin, and Austin has healed him, or started to. It has given him a family, and friends, and Carlos, but New York would always give him a special kind of rush. He grew up there, and it would always feel like home even if it wasn’t always where his heart was.

“Maybe she’s not the one you’re angry with.”

“Have you been talking to Judd?”

“What?” Carlos sounds confused.

“Judd said basically the same thing.” Having a family meant a lot of meddling.

“When there’s a pattern, you shouldn’t ignore it,” Carlos says, voice still biting.

“Just because I’m not as close to my mother as you are with yours, it doesn’t mean I have some bigger issue that I need to work out. Sometimes, parents and children just don’t get along.”

“I mean that maybe she’s a stand in for the person you want to yell at.”

“Yeah?” T.K. seethed. “When did you get your psychology degree?”

“I’ll drop it if you answer this one question honestly.”

“What’s that?”

“Why did you become a firefighter?” Now, that is a loaded question, one he couldn’t answer without reaffirming some of what Carlos was suggesting. T.K. doesn’t want to think about the truth. He doesn’t want to vocalize it and start to unpack all those feelings he’s been packed away since he was a little kid.

“Because I wanted to save people.” He did want to save people. When he sees a person in trouble, he wants to save them, even if it means sacrificing himself, especially kids. When he sees a kid in danger, he wants to keep him safe because no kid should feel unsafe, unloved, or unworthy of being helped.

“You could’ve chosen a dozen career paths if that saving people the main reason, but it’s not.”

“I don’t know, Carlos. It was convenient.”

“Convenient? Really? It doesn’t seem to me that you do things because they’re convenient.” The anxiety was revving up in T.K. again. All those repressed thoughts, bubbling in his consciousness.

“It’s easier to be mad at her,” T.K. admits.

“Why?” Carlos presses.

“I wanted my dad to love me, but he left. He checked out, but she was always there. I knew she would be there. I knew if I yelled at her, she wasn’t going to go away. When my mom got upset, she’d get mad, but she never left. When dad got mad, he couldn’t’ t handle it and would make an excuse about having to work. It wasn’t his fault. He was going through a lot and a bratty kid didn’t help anything, but I always worried that one day, he wouldn’t come back, so I learned not to yell at him. I learned to avoid his triggers. I learned how to keep him in my life.”

Carlos sighs, some of the anger dropping from his face, “You can’t keep that all bottled up, T.K., and it doesn’t help anyone to keep being angry at your mom about something that has nothing to do with her.”

“I know that. It’s just so fucking messy in my head.” He’s starting to feel sick to his stomach. He needs to talk to his mom. “Can you do me a favor?”

Carlos brushes a hand down T.K.’s arm, “What do you need?”

“Can you take me to my mom’s hotel.”

For the first time since they got to Carlos’ apartment, Carlos smiles. “That can be arranged.”

Carlos drops T.K. off and parks the car, giving T.K. the chance to have a few minutes alone with his mom. He nervously knocks on the door. She opens it, looking surprised to see him. “Tyler? What are you doing here?”

He throws his arms around her and drops his head to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry mom for treating you like shit all these years.” She ushers him into the hotel room and sits him down on the chair.

“It’s okay,” she says, combing her hand through his hair, which only makes T.K. feel worse for the way he’s treated her. He knows she’ll never hold it against him. She’ll love him just the same, and he wants to try to be a better son for her. He wants to let her into his life and mend all the bitterness he unfairly feels against her. He knew he’d need to talk to her, and his dad. It would take time, but maybe somehow someway, his mom being in town wouldn’t have to feel like bad news because it was good to feel close to her. “I’ll always be by your side.”

[lgbtqiahistoricalromance]

LGBTQIA+ Historical Romance Novels for Winter, Hanukkah, Solstice, and Christmas 2019 - Updated Dec 17th!


A Very Surrey SFS Christmas by Nicola Davidson (m/f, m/m, f/f, bisexual, and poly)

- Welcome to the Surrey Sexual Freedom Society - where unconventional and uninhibited ladies and gentlemen discuss all matters erotic…


It’s Christmastide in Surrey, and the Society members have gathered at Lady Portia and Denham’s estate to host a magnificent masked ball. Alas, not everything is going quite to plan, as a curmudgeonly duke, England’s naughtiest cat, a viscount with writer’s block, two newborns, and some colorful local residents conspire to turn order into chaos. But with those you love all things are possible, and it wouldn’t be A Very Surrey SFS Christmas without madcap mischief, banter, and a whole lot of wicked fun…

This series of extended epilogues include Beatrice and Amelia, Madeline and Ethan, Clayton, Susanna, and Joseph, Lady Portia and Denham, and Fairfield.
Please note this book contains explicit language and sexual content.

Peter Cratchit’s Christmas by Drew Marvin Fraye

- Peter Cratchit, a young lad preparing to make his way in the world, is the eldest son of Scrooge’s lowly clerk Bob Cratchit. Peter flourishes under the tutelage of his “Uncle” Scrooge and seeks to make his mark as a man of business, like his uncle before him.

One Christmas Eve, as Scrooge lays dying, Peter embarks on a risky ocean voyage that he believes will secure the future for his family. Onboard, Peter finds love, happiness, and success, only to lose it all by the voyage’s end. Returning to London, Peter shuns his family and instead finds himself living on the streets, haunted by his failures and his dead lover, selling his body just to survive while he waits for the winter cold to claim him once and for all.

But winter snows also mean Christmas is coming, and for the Cratchit family, Christmas is a time of miracles. Can a visit from three familiar spirits change Peter’s life again? Is there one more miracle in store for the lost son of one of Dickens’ most enduring families?

Yuletide Treasure by Eliot Grayson

- There’s not enough Yuletide spirit in the world to fix this holiday disaster…

Eben Sypeman’s world is falling apart. It’s two days before Yule and his business partner is dead, leaving behind empty accounts and looming bankruptcy. And if that isn’t bad enough, his patron goddess is irritated with him. It seems she’s tired of his tendency to mince words and avoid conflict. She’s insisting—quite forcefully—that he start being totally honest with everyone, including himself. Divinely enforced honesty couldn’t have come at a less opportune time, especially when his clerk’s tall, dark and distractingly handsome son enters the picture.

The last thing on Tim Pratchett’s mind is romance. All the former soldier wants is to fill in for his sick father at work and recover from his war wounds in peace. But there’s something about the grumpy Eben that confounds and entices him in equal measure. Their timing couldn’t be worse. They’re complete opposites. And yet … none of that matters when he’s with Eben.

But if Eben and Tim have any hope of finding their very own happily ever after, they’ll have to survive a dickens of a truth curse and the machinations of a trickster goddess—all while searching for enough yuletide treasure to save them all.

A joyous, relaxing Yule indeed. Bah, humbug.

This is an M/M romance with explicit scenes, a voyeuristic pagan goddess, and an odious nephew. Despite any other possible similarities to A Christmas Carol, there are neither ghosts nor geese, but readers can expect a happy ending and at least one use of the word “dickens.”

The Stonecutter Earl’s First Christmas by Adella Harris

- Nathan Fitzroy hates the holidays. Estranged from his family for refusing to marry, he’s still expected to keep up appearances, which means attending their holiday celebrations. And that means that, from the beginning of December until the middle of January, he needs to find work that will let him take off almost as many days as he works there. For him, that means working at a molly house called the Goat’s Horn.

Owen Landon was quite content to be a stone cutter. It was what he’d trained for, and it earned him enough money to pay his brother’s school fees and still live comfortably enough in a cottage in their village. He’d always been told his father was distantly related to nobility, but he’d never thought much of it, until a solicitor came to tell him he was the new Earl of Morebrook, a position he has no idea how to fill.

One night in December, when Owen can’t stand his new role another moment, he sneaks away to the seediest molly house he can find, the Goat’s Horn, for a distraction. And find one he does, a beautiful fellow with just the accent and bearing he’s supposed to be learning. When he sees the man again away from the molly house, he comes up with a plan to both spend more time with him and learn to be an earl. Owen offers him a position tutoring him before the start of the Christmas parties he’s supposed to attend.

Nathan’s worst nightmare comes true when one of the clients of the Goat’s Horn recognizes him outside of the molly house. But the man offers him a position that will allow him to earn money away from the Goat’s Horn until Christmas. If only he can remember he’s supposed to be tutoring the fellow, not bedding him, and certainly not falling in love with him. A steamy Christmas romance with hints of Pygmalion.

Approx. 50,000 words, 200 pages

Tinsel and Spruce Needles holiday series by Elna Holst (f/f and f/non binary MCs, MCs with disabilities !!!!!)

Candlelight Kisses

- Malmö, Sweden, 1994 Erika Stolt is a feminist activist, and not one of the slick, lipstick lesbian variety. She’s the kind who trashes beauty contests, who graffitis her own subversive messages over commercial billboards, and who fucks people mainly as a political statement. But then a community service sentence lands her a spot as the unlikely new assistant of one of the candidates for the Malmö Lucia contest, and the world as she knows it is promptly turned on its head.

Little X

- Malmö, Sweden, 1996 Sofie Andersson is a dyslectic born under the star sign Aries, who drives the local buses for a living. Her hobbies include knitting terrible hats and intermittent lesbianism. This December she is on the point of moving into her first flat of her own, figuring out her place in the world, when an instant attraction to a handsome stranger leads her to question everything she’s taken for granted.

Wild Bells

- Lund, Sweden, 1998 Mia Andersson is not a nice person. She is a sharp, sensational-looking, aloof lawyer-to-be, and the busiest sapphic player in town. Mia Andersson takes no prisoners, tells no tales, and if you gave her your number, chances are she won’t call. But this holiday season, at age twenty-seven, wheels that are out of her control have been set in motion, and it looks like she might just get caught in the spin.

February and December: Dominus Calendar Series I (Volume 1) by JP Kenwood

- As a lifelong passion continues to fade, another love deepens… two stand-alone m/m stories of love, lust, and friendship in ancient Rome featuring characters from JP Kenwood's Dominus series. February: Home from the first war against the kingdom of Dacia, Gaius Fabius ignores his obligations in Rome and returns to his secluded seaside villa in southern Italy. Under the pretense of a holiday trip, his best friend and secret lover, Lucius Petronius, surprises him with an unexpected visit. Later that evening, the lusty masters share the delights of Gaius’s blond pleasure slave, Nicomedes. December: With whispers of an embezzlement scandal floating through the capital, Lucius Petronius and his beloved concubine, Bryaxis, celebrate the raucous winter solstice festival of the Saturnalia with Luc’s family. After a joy-filled evening of food, gifts, and stories, Lucius and Bryaxis reverse roles in the master chamber. Warnings for explicit language, filthy loving, and daft shenanigans.

Christmas for a Vampire by Ruby Moone - Because even Vampires deserve a second chance.

Companion story to The Christmas Curse.

Recently turned vampire Ellis Davenport faces another dismal Christmas. His new life is filled with riches but is cold, lonely, and empty. Refusing to acknowledge his vampire self or to participate in any kind of vampire society, he skirts the edges of that world and has done so since the man he loved chose death rather than spend eternity with him.
As far as Ellis is concerned, Quinn Fordham died on the battlefield in Badajoz. But, as he circulates at yet another tedious Christmas party, he hears piano music, someone playing the Moonlight Sonata like Quinn used to play for him. Entranced, he finds his lover but just as their lips touch, Quinn disappears.
Before Ellis has time to resolve this odd hallucination, he and his friend Trent sense the approach of Lord Heath, their vampire sire. Yet, before their sire arrives, Ellis is stunned to find Quinn not only alive, but a vampire, and furiously angry with him. Can they move beyond the lie that separated them and find each other again?

Dances Long Forgotten by Ruby Moone - Coming December 19th! Per Ruby: Ghosts of past romance Second chance love Gentlemen dancing with gentlemen Long buried family secrets

On Christmas Eve, Dylan, the man of James Pell-Charnley’s dreams, is on the point of walking out. Then they hear the faint strains of a waltz in the library of the empty abbey. The music is said to be heard only by those truly in love, and it gives James the courage to tell Dylan the story.

In December 1841, Lord Hugo Pell-Charnley is in a terrible mess. The youngest son of the late Marquis, youngest brother of the incumbent, never felt to fit. When his life comes crashing down, and his life and his family are threatened, he is forced to face his elder brother and confess his deepest secret. When he arrives at Winsford Abbey he finds he must also confront the shame from his past in the form of Lyndon Cross. The boy he’d loved but betrayed in school. As they clear the ghosts from the past, they dance in each other’s arms in the library to the soft strains of the waltz, but long buried secrets threaten to destroy their happiness.

Two hundred years later, can those dances long forgotten give James and Dylan the courage to hold on to love?

Hither, Page by Cat Sebastian

- A jaded spy and a shell shocked country doctor team up to solve a murder in postwar England.

James Sommers returned from the war with his nerves in tatters. All he wants is to retreat to the quiet village of his childhood and enjoy the boring, predictable life of a country doctor. The last thing in the world he needs is a handsome stranger who seems to be mixed up with the first violent death the village has seen in years. It certainly doesn’t help that this stranger is the first person James has wanted to touch since before the war.

The war may be over for the rest of the world, but Leo Page is still busy doing the dirty work for one of the more disreputable branches of the intelligence service. When his boss orders him to cover up a murder, Leo isn’t expecting to be sent to a sleepy village. After a week of helping old ladies wind balls of yarn and flirting with a handsome doctor, Leo is in danger of forgetting what he really is and why he’s there. He’s in danger of feeling things he has no business feeling. A person who burns his identity after every job can’t set down roots. As he starts to untangle the mess of secrets and lies that lurk behind the lace curtains of even the most peaceful-seeming of villages, Leo realizes that the truths he’s about to uncover will affect his future and those of the man he’s growing to care about.

If anything else becomes available, this list will be updated, and the date listed at the top–after the post title.

A Christmas Cotillion by Ellie Thomas

- England, 1820. Bachelor Jonathan Cavendish has become reclusive in the years following a failed romance with the love of his life. In the years following their split, he has thrown all his energy into restoring the small estate he inherited from a great uncle and has put aside any thoughts of romance. Although he’d rather remain at home alone for the festive season, this year he’s accompanying his cousin Freddy to a Christmas country house party. Freddie seems to be constantly falling in love and, on this occasion, he is infatuated with a young lady called Belinda. Jonathan is asked by Freddy’s anxious mother to accompany him to the house party to keep an eye on the situation, in case the young lady turns out to be an unsuitable choice. Despite this inauspicious beginning, Jonathan catches the eye of Nick, the handsome son of a local well-to-do farmer, who is a constant presence at the holiday entertainments. Nick is intrigued by Jonathan’s kindness and also by the sadness he hides from public view. The initial attraction between the men seems to be mutual, but can Nick break through Jonathan’s defences and teach him to love again?

2018′s More Extensive List

[khhunniewriting]

Synchronicity

You nonchalantly bopped your head side to side as you sipped your Midori sour through the small thin straw it came with. It was the only drink you found worth drinking at these types of places. By these types of places, you meant clubs. They were fun for most. you, however, had a problem with being bumped into every second and getting whiplash from constantly looking over your shoulders to see who had “accidentally” grabbed your ass. It was hard to single out any one offense so you begrudgingly let it go. 

“Come one Y/N,” your friend begged you. “I want to be closer to the action.” They all liked to drink and dance with no caution whatsoever because they had you to rely on. They knew you never got drunk, you were always strict and proper but you also knew how to have fun. 

“Yeah come on Y/N.” Another one of your friends held your free hand in an attempt to pull you in but you resisted staying at the edge of the dancefloor. It was close to the bar, close to the exit, and to the table you had told your friends to regroup at if they ever got lost. You were definitely the mom of the group at this point despite being the only one that didn’t have a kid or a man.

The whole situation had made you sip unconsciously until the sweet-sour liquid stopped running through your straw. “You four go ahead, I’m going for another drink and coming back to this spot.” You took a few more sips causing a bit of a slurping sound when all you got was air and a few drops of water from the ice that was melting in your glass.

With little reservation, your friends disappeared into the sea of people. You went to the bar like you had said. It was full of people trying to get their drinks. There was no order, no line to wait in. It was all about getting through to the front and getting the bartender’s attention first. This was the only time you willingly got close to these strangers. 

As you waited for an opening to wiggle through, you felt the need to look around. It was strange, that feeling of being watched. You were in a building full of people. There could be several people unintentionally looking your way yet you felt it. That feeling like you were being watched. 

That feeling left when your attention was on the gap between two people at the bar. You quickly sucked in your stomach and passed by a few people to beat them and order your drink.

When you got your drink you retreated to the meeting spot. The small table had a few high chairs you struggled to sit on. You were almost sure that if anyone was watching you they saw when your dress rode up to the point where they could see your upper thigh. Immediately upon settling in your seat, you pulled down on the hem of your dress to cover up. 

Moments later one of your friends came to you looking exhausted. “Oh my god Y/N, I just saw the hottest man ever! I think he’s famous or something. Girls kept saying his name but I didn’t know who he was. Why can’t I be single?”

“Because you chose to get married and have two kids.” She met your response with a sigh. After another jab at her married life, you got the picture that she was going through some quarter-life crisis. “You’re really making me thankful for my single life.”

“We should get you a man-”

“You want to bring me down with the ship too?”

She laughed, “I complain but it’s not all bad.” It was unclear to her why you were single. In her unbiased opinion, you were quite the catch. Your sense of humor was a bit dark but it went with your edginess. There was also the sweet, kind side of you that took care of everyone around you- the mom side. In her biased opinion, you were her friend so you were the bomb.com. “Want to go see the guy I was talking about?”

“No thanks-” you picked up your drink to finish off its contents. “I would much rather go home now.”

“Look you can see him from here!” She pointed straight at him.

The direction she was pointing too was the private reserved booths. “You said he was famous?”

“I think so, the girls kept gushing over him like he was some kind of celebrity. There were a few guys too.”

That would explain why he was surrounded by women who were feeling him up. He was just chilling, drink in one hand- cigarette in the other. The women were doing all the work to get his attention. They sat beside him, in front of him, behind, and he even grabbed one and sat her on him. Someone who could casually be with so man women at once wasn’t what you were looking for. “I’ll admit he’s easy on the eyes but I can’t be with someone like that.”

“What do you mean?” She looked back and forth between you two as if imagining you side by side. “He’s perfect for you!” Her comment was a bit loud even if the music was louder. It didn’t help that she kept pointing in his general direction.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to point at people?” you reprimanded as you lowered her hand.

“Sorry Mom~” she rolled her eyes.

Your eyes went back to the supposed famous guy but you quickly looked away choking on your drink.

“What the-” your friend gave a few pats on the back. “Are you okay?”

“He’s looking...”

She didn’t try to hide the fact that she was checking on him. “He really is!”

Your eyes widened when she kept talking to you and looking back at him, making it obvious you two were talking about him. “You really need to shut the fuck up and stop staring at strangers!”

“OMG Y/N I know who he is now. That guy next to him is Nafla and the other one is Owen, there’s Loopy too so then that’s Bloo.”

“You have a really strange way of remembering things.” How did she manage to name everyone else before him?

“Sorry, the girls were in the way so I couldn’t really see him.”

“Anyway, he’s not my type,” you shrugged.

“Liar- you just want to go home.”

“Touche.”

\\\

“What are you looking at?” Nafla asked as he finally got Bloo’s attention. He followed his line of sight but didn’t see anything particularly eye-catching in the crowd of people.

For Bloo it was different. This was the third time he spotted the same person. He wasn’t looking for her but somehow he managed to always find her. This last time he stared a little too long which is why Nafla caught him. “Nothing I was just-” his neck stretched out as he tried looking for you once more. 

He was sure he saw you looking his way but he lost sight when the girl fell on his lap.

“Looks like he lost whatever it was,” Owen chuckled. Bloo now looked like a sad puppy who had been abandoned by his owner. “Cheer up, there’s plenty more to see.”

Bloo couldn’t though. It was just like him to have so much in front of him yet want what was farthest from his reach. Without another word, he slumped back feeling like he missed an opportunity.

\\\

Weeks later you found yourself at another club with your friends. This one was louder, bigger, and worse! “I hate all of you!” You shouted at the top of your lungs yet your friends only snickered and laughed like a cackle of hyenas. This was your birthday, they were supposed to do something you liked- which would be anything but this. “I’m the third wheel for...” you pointed to each of your friends and their significant others as you counted, “four f*cking bicycles.”

“We know you love us.”

“And appreciate us.”

One of them pulled her credit card out of her bra to hand to you. “Come on all your drinks are on me.”

You eyed her from the corner of your eyes. The piece of plastic was very enticing, drinks were far more expensive at these popular clubs so you knew better than to turn her down. “Thank you for taking a hit,” you snatched the card wiping it on the sleeve of your dress. “Don’t want your boobie germs.”

“Just remember we have kids who depend on us to feed them,” her husband joked knowing you could drink your weight and more. Especially now that you didn’t have to worry about them.

“You’re kids better like cereal because that’s all they’ll be eating after tonight.” They laughed as they saw you practically skip towards the bar. “Midori sour, to start,” you cockily handed over the card as payment. “Keep the tab open, I’ll be coming back.”

Bloo chuckled when he heard your promise to return. When he looked over the smile that had accompanied the laughter fell. It was hard to describe how he felt about seeing you again. He watched you leave with your drink to the dance floor- never losing sight of you.

You rejoined some of your friends, drink in hand. They were dancing with their partners leaving you off to the side but nearby. You didn’t mind dancing alone even when you knew people were scratching their heads wondering how you fit in with the group.

“Looks like you could use a partner.”

You opened your eyes startled by the sudden presence beside you. It took moment for you to readjust to the bright strobing lights but you immediately found the source of the voice. “Holy sh*t- this is going to sound rude but what are you doing here?” You tried to sound casual about it but in fact, you were panicking at the thought of him remembering you from that one time. Although you were confident in the fact that he saw so many women he would surely forget half of them.

Bloo laughed, “If you know my name shouldn’t you give me yours?”

Your eyes widened at his forwardness. “Ah, you really are good at this.” It was easy to see how he managed to gather a crowd of fawning women when he used such smooth lines.

“Her name is Y/N,” one of your friends’ husband spoke up knowing very well who he was. He was hoping to get a picture with him later in exchange later. 

You scowled at him for ruining your plans of brushing him off. “Fine, I guess I can dance this once with you.”

True to your word you danced till the end of the song keeping a safe distance from him so you wouldn’t give him the wrong idea. Yes, he was attractive but that didn’t mean you would bend to his will so easily just because he was a famous rapper. 

When the dance was over Bloo found himself wanting to stay beside you a little longer. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“No thanks I’m all set,” you flashed the little piece of plastic that was your godsend.

God giveth and God taketh away.

Your friend snatched the card from your hand, “She would love a drink.” Now her children wouldn’t go hungry.

You sent them all a death glare, even the ones who had nothing to do with your nigh turning from a solo mission to a duo.

“Let me just tell you right now... there’s no way anything can happen between us.”

Bloo smirked, “We’ll see about that.” He had thought the same thing the day he saw you at the other club but now here he was leading you to the bar, his hand on your lower back breathing in the fruity-floral scent of your perfume. 

He didn’t believe in fate but it was hard to ignore the fact that his eyes were drawn to you every time. 

-end-

A/N: Synchronicity is a concept which holds that events are "meaningful coincidences" if they occur with no causal relationship yet seem to be meaningfully related. ( I know some of you will look it up ^^ )

[jolinar]

A Very Star Wars Fictober (in December!) Day 26

(I bet you thought I’d given up, huh? But no. Here I am, rising from the ashes because rebellions are built on hope...or something...)

Prompt number: #26 “How about you trust me for once?”

Fandom: Star Wars 

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings/Tags: Luke and Leia sibling bickering 

Word Count: 1497

Summary: Leia and Luke have words while planning to free Han from Jabba’s Palace. 

Read it on Ao3

“You want me to trust you? After what you and Han got into?”

“Luke!”

“Leia!”

They stared each other down, two immovable objects leaning forward in nearly identical poses. The holotable between them was littered with tablets, flimsies, half-scribbled notes, old kaf mugs, dirty plates, and broken styluses. In the center of the mess, a layout of Jabba’s Palace on Tatooine glowed an intermittent blue. Wordlessly, they glared at each other.

Surprisingly, Leia was the first one to break eye contact. She paced away, armed crossed, and Luke felt a moment of triumph -- then she wheeled to face him.

“I don’t see what your problem is," she said in precise, clipped tones. She sounded haughty, almost bored, as though his concerns were too base to even remark on. 

“What my problem is that your plan is needlessly complicated. While you’re waiting for all these pieces to fit together, Han could be dying.”

Leia flinched as though he had slapped her. Luke felt, again a moment of triumph, before she rallied again. 

“Jabba wants to use him as trophy -- you said that yourself: 'the Hutts love that kind of thing.' They’ll keep him alive. They have to.”

“And if you’re wrong??”

In answer to this, Leia drew her eyebrows together and pointed at him. “How about you trust me for once, hmm?” Luke was momentarily nonplussed. The expression and gesture...they were so Han. Leia wore them like a child trying on their parents' clothes. Luke shook his head and laughed. 

 “What? What is it? Do you think this is funny --” she demanded. She shifted her hands to her hips, a gesture entirely her own.

“No, it’s nothing --” She raised an eyebrow at him and he continued: “You sounded just like him there, like Han.”

Leia shut her eyes and took in a deep shuddering breath. “Oh no, he’s rubbing off on me.”

Luke suppressed a smile. “Looks like it.”

She let out a long sigh. “I’m serious. Luke. I need you to trust me here. I’ve trusted you since the beginning -- since you broke into my cell in that ridiculous stormtrooper armor. And I trusted you when I heard you on Bespin.”

There it was. The thing they’d avoided talking about. He’d dreaded her asking about it because, in truth, he didn’t know what it meant either. He’d been reaching out for old Ben Kenobi, searching the Force for someone familiar. But he’d found her instead. 

“I heard you, I heard your voice in my head and I trusted it. Now it’s your turn to trust me. Just walking into Jabba’s palace and demanding that he let Han go -- that’s not going to work. We need layers, plans within plans and failsafes if this is going to work.”

He looked into her face, into her earnest and somewhat pleading expression. He could feel her hurt, pulsing beneath her brave and impenetrable surface. 

“But why can’t we just break in and grab him?” Luke asked. “If we were fast enough --”

But Leia had already cut him off with a hand wave. "No, no, that won't work. If you'd just listen..." she gestured over her holo of Jabba’s Palace, talking rapidly but with a confident cadence. Her eyes were full of excitement and purpose. She liked this, Luke realized studying her, this planning. She thrived on it. And he knew that however unnecessary this may seem to him, she would be able to convince the others. That fire in her eyes would ignite even the weakest kindling. 

As he turned this over in his mind, he had another flash of insight. “You miss him.” He’d said it out loud without realizing it. Leia looped up and raised an eyebrow at him, as though he was an exceptionally slow child asking an impertinent question. He opened his mouth to retort, but she beat him to it.

“Do I miss Han? Yes, Luke, we...we talked about this. Han and I, we --”

But Luke shook his head, and leaned forward across the table, cutting her off this time. “No. You father. You miss him.” He gestured towards the table, the notes. “This is the kind of thing you used to do with him. Go over a plan. And you miss it.”

A normal person might have been upset, confused as to how he could have known this. But not Leia. She took it in her stride. Without betraying any emotion, she leaned back against the console, regarding him, arms crossed. Finally, she said: 

“You want to go there? Okay. I was adopted as a baby, but he and my mother were the only parents I ever knew. I loved my mother, but my father and I were very close," she paused for a moment, gathering herself. "Sometimes I miss him so much. Too much. I miss all of Alderaan. And I wish --" he could have sworn her voice cracked slightly before she could rein it under control, "I wish more than anything I could talk to him. Even when we both so busy, he would always write or record a message. That’s the hardest, I think...knowing he’ll never write to me again.” She paused and Luke felt as though something was unlocking within her, he was seeing a part of Leia that he had never seen before. But at the same time, he was thinking of himself. His adoptive parents had never written to him. They hadn't needed to; he'd hardly been out of yelling distance in his whole life. Of his own father, what he’d thought of him, what he’d turned out to be. How would Leia feel when one day she learned that his father had been instrumental in killing hers, and her whole planet? 

Leia saved him any further thought by pressing onwards: "But I can’t stop. I can’t mourn. Not him or my mother or my aunts or all of Alderaan. Not now. And I won’t, I can’t lose anyone else.” She was pointing at him again, that Han Solo gesture that was so incongruous to her small form. Her eyes were overbright, but Luke didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort her. So instead, he just nodded. 

“I was adopted, too,” he said, after a moment, wanting to offer some common ground. “My aunt and uncle took me in, anyway. After,” he hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing, “after my parents died.”

“In the clone wars?”

Luke nodded. It was the easiest explanation and note entirely a lie. Maybe that's why his aunt and uncle had gravitated towards it. “And now Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru...they’re gone too. Killed by the Empire, they --” in his mind he saw again the charred remains of their homestead. He felt anger and tried to distance himself, pull away. Master Yoda had told him where anger led. He cast his eyes around the room, trying to find something else to hold on to. He found it in Leia. She held his gaze, firm and steadfast despite her own tears. 

They stood in silence for a moment. They were each deep in a grief that was both shared and unimaginable to the other. Then, tentatively, Luke said:

 “Well, I think your father would be proud of you.”

“Really?” Leia asked, incredulous. “I lost most of my men, the people I was responsible for, on Hoth. Even this plan...we’re not going after the Empire, we’re going after one man, we --”

“But you’re still moving forward, still carrying his dream. That counts for something, right?”

Leia looked at him sideways. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Yes?”

She laughed a little. “For what it’s worth, it’s working.” Then, more seriously: “Thank you.”

“And for what it’s worth, I do trust you." He held out his hands, gesturing at the table below them. “Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.” As he said it, he realized that for him, it really want that easy. He could help Han and make Leia feel better, so he’d do it. And her plan hadn’t been that bad, it just took too long. But if it meant success...maybe that was part of the lesson that Master Yoda had been trying to impart as he'd left. If he could see something through, not get distracted...

Ironically, he was then distracted by Leia clearing her throat. He looked up at her expectantly. All trace of grief in her face was now gone, replaced instead with an almost mad fervor.

“I might need you to play an all-knowing and mysterious Jedi,” she tilted her head to the side, regarding critically. “Think you're up for it?"

Luke smiled wryly. "I'll do my best. What else?"

“Rule One: always have a man on the inside. I bet we could get someone on Jabba’s guard staff easily enough...” she looked up at him meaningfully. 

“Me? I don’t --”

“No, Lando.”

“He’ll do it? I thought you said --”

“He owes me a favor,” Leia replied, eyes flashing. “He’ll do it.”

[biscuitreviews]

Biscuit Reviews The Last of Us Part 2 (SPOILERS)

When it comes to sequels, it can be either better or worse than the original. With Naughty Dog games, at least in my experience, their sequels have always been better than the original. Jak 2 and Uncharted 2 proved that. I can’t speak for Crash 2, because I never played it, but from what I’ve seen from the internet and many reviewers, even that was better than the original. With The Last of Us Part 2, that was what I was going into, a sequel that was sure to be better considering Naughty Dog’s pedigree with this. 

In some ways, they actually do succeed in The Last of Us Part 2 being better than the original. However, there’s also some areas where it failed.

Now, I can’t talk about The Last of Us Part 2 without mentioning a big spoiler, because this spoiler is the motivating cause for the story. I’m actually going to discuss that last. Normally in my reviews, I discuss the story first and then go into gameplay. But to allow you, the reader, to view my opinions while being able to avoid the spoilers, I’ll be talking about the story last this go around. I’ll also mark within the review when I’m going to start talking about the story to give you a chance to stop and scroll to the bottom of the review, or to simply come back to this review later.

In terms of gameplay, it is leagues better than the first entry. Enemies are varied, encounters have multiple ways to go about completing them, and there are plenty of tools at your disposal. The enemy variation was my favorite as you have the infected and their different subclasses: Runners which are run-of-the-mill infected, Clickers which are now nerfed to where guns are effective. Shamblers, one of the new variants, sprays a noxious gas and are heavy hitters. Stalkers, another new class are stealth based infected that make no noise and tend to hide and only fight if they’re spotted.

Human enemies are also varied depending on faction. The WLF are your standard human faction. They communicate with their teammates and are easy to keep track with listening mode. The Seraphites, the other faction, when it comes to using listening mode it’s practically useless. They’re quiet, communicate with whistles and are more likely to use weapons that don’t make a lot of noise. Either way both factions are very communicative to one another and will often coordinate with their team members to track you down during encounters.

You’ll have to use your weapons, your tools, and the environment to get past these encounters. Weapons are used for the obvious, defeating enemies. Tools allow you to cause distractions or set traps, which will help you cull enemy numbers. The environment is what you’ll use for the stealth approach and even run away from enemies if they prove to be too much to handle.

There is a computer controlled companion like in the first game, but they don’t really do much. When Ellie didn’t do much in the first game, it made sense because Joel’s mission was to get Ellie to a Firefly hospital; you didn’t expect Ellie to do anything. You expected her to stay hidden and out of the way. When Ellie would kill someone, it was a nice surprise, but at the same time you hoped she didn’t do that again because you didn’t know if the game would start going after Ellie. In Last of Us Part 2, there is no excuse for the computer controlled companion to not really do much. Sure they’ll kill someone on occasion, but it’s usually when there’s only one enemy left which makes having a companion questionable. You would hope that maybe they would do some distraction techniques, but all they do is remain hidden and not do much, similar to Ellie in the first game and it just makes no sense in the sequel for your companion to do that.

Encounters could also, but not often, have a mix of factions. For example, using distractions to lead the infected into human enemies feels extremely satisfying and rewarding. This will lead to the humans and infected fighting each other with you either slipping away, or using the chaos to your advantage to continue killing enemies.

Exploring the environment is strongly encouraged as there are items that can improve your character’s abilities, weapons, and items to craft tools that are needed. Exploration is also how’ll you find your weapons as not a lot of them are actually on the beaten path. You’ll find a couple along the way, sure, but there are also quite a few where you do have to go down the other fork or not the correct way forward to find these other weapons. This encourages you to fully explore the area before moving on because you might find a weapon that will greatly help in the next encounter. You can craft ammo for certain weapons, which is great when finding ammo for other weapons is proving to be lacking. I played the game on the Moderate difficulty and there were times where I was hurting on ammo and had to resort to more distraction tactics.

Speaking of difficulty, I love how customizable it is. You have presets: Very Light, Light, Moderate, Hard, and Survivor. The option to choose a difficulty preset is there, or you can go further and customize certain aspects. You can customize how hard enemies are to kill, how much ammo and supplies you can find, how hard or easy it is for enemies to see you in tall grass. How easy or hard it is for enemies to fall for distraction techniques. I have to say this is a really great way to go more in depth with difficulty and I hope this is something we start to see more and more of. I know Persona 4 for PC also had something similar and I hope to check that out at a later time.

Another thing I have to mention is the level of accessibility that is available. You can make HUD menu icons bigger, adjust the size of the subtitles, change colors for easier reading, and there are color blind settings for people that have color blind conditions. For those that might be hard of hearing there are options to have the game show more visual cues. I’m hoping this also starts to set a standard for accessibility options within video games to allow people to customize the experience for them.

Visually this game looks stunning. The first Last of Us came out at the end of the PS3’s lifecycle and it looked amazing and well detailed. With the Last of Us 2 also coming out at the end of the PS4’s lifecycle, it also does not disappoint and has some really stunning views and landscape shots where you can just sit back and take it all in.

When you complete the game, New Game+ is unlocked that allows you carry over all items and upgrades. You also have the ability to select chapters you wish to replay and even individual encounters if you just want to get straight into the action.

Now what about the story itself. As I mentioned previously, I can’t talk about the story without giving a big spoiler. If you’ve been reading this review and don’t want said spoiler, this is your chance to stop reading and either scroll to the very end or come back when you’ve either hit the big spoiler or just don’t care. I will say this, you won’t be far off on the spoiler as it happens 2 hours into the game. 

Yeah, it happened that quickly.

The Last of Us 2 goes for a dual narrative way of telling its story. You follow Ellie and a new character named Abby. However, instead of having two different stories affect one another, you are actually viewing what each character is going through before the inevitable crossover.

You start the game as Ellie seeking revenge on Abby for killing Joel. Why did Abby kill Joel, well who cares, just go after her, how dare she kill Joel. This is where a majority of the hate of The Last of Us Part 2 comes in, because a character you know nothing about, suddenly comes in and kills a character that we spent quite a bit of time with in the previous game. It also doesn’t help that for a decent part of Ellie’s story, that’s the premise you’re given, that Abby is just a random person in a faction that was never before seen until now. You do learn later that there actually is a connection from the first game with Abby and why she killed Joel, but by the time you learn that, you as a player viewing this story, don’t care because you spent quite a bit of the game hating this character and just wanting her dead.

As for Abby’s story, she wants to help her friend Owen escape Seattle after he killed his teammate and saved a member of the Seraphites, the WLF’s enemy. She in turn helps out two kids escaping from the Seraphites and the WLF then considers Abby an enemy for going AWOL and a traitor for helping out Owen and two Seraphites.

Now as for the story itself, it’s highly predictable in the worst ways using tired post-apocalyptic tropes. No joke, my wife actually predicted everything beat by beat within the first two hours of how the story was going to play out after Joel did. She was correct in every aspect. However, despite being predictable it’s not terrible either like the internet would have you believe. What really hurts The Last of Us Part 2’s story is the order in which it decided to tell it. I feel it should have told Abby’s story first, that way we could have gotten to know her as a character, rather than just default hate her the entire time. As for the references of killing Joel, instead of saying Joel outright, make it ambiguous, give it a little mystery, wonder who was it that she killed that has her friends a little bit concerned for her state of mind and actions during that time while slowly revealing the identity of who she killed.

I get that the theme for this story is hate, but I felt it would have really drove that theme harder if Abby’s story was first, that way you can understand her hate. I still think as a player, you would have ended up hating Abby regardless, but I feel that it wouldn’t have been as volatile if Naughty Dog went this route. Also, the fact that there are quite a few things in the story you have to tear apart and place in the proper order of events is a bit draining. Multiple narratives and flashback sequences can work, but in the way these were presented, it took effort to piece the overall narrative together.

Then by telling Ellie’s story second, you can further drive the point that hate breeds hate and to end the cycle, it has to be you that ends it for if you continue it, the cycle will never end.

I also hated that it left Ellie and Dina’s relationship “up to interpretation” at the end of the game. No, we have a nice gay relationship in this game, give Ellie a happy ending at the very least of all this.

The Last of Us Part 2, I’ll admit is a bit of a tough game for me to score. As a game, it succeeds in so much and then some. But as a story, it has quite a few stumbles. However, putting the Abby prejudice aside, it’s an ok story, definitely not as jaw dropping or emotional as the first, but it’s still serviceable despite its issues.

I never give games a .5 in my score because I feel it can be too wishy washy. I feel giving it a 3 is too low considering how the gameplay is so good and how you can approach encounters and even customize your experience. However, giving it a 4 could be considered too high as Naughty Dog is known for good gameplay and great stories and The Last of Us Part 2’s story was just “ok”.

However, after some back and forth, I think I’m going to give The Last of Us Part 2 the higher number because I want to recognize the amount of accessibility options it provides. Not a lot of games consider this or even have this option and I want to commend this one for considering that. I think if the story was the train wreck that the internet would have you believe, maybe I would give it the lower number, but in reality, it’s really not THAT bad, but it definitely does hold it back from being great. This is definitely a game I might be going back and forth with for a while, but for now at this moment, I think a 4 is fair, it’s still a great game, but it definitely has a sore spot that keeps it from reaching a 5 out of 5.

If you were to say “No Biscuit, this definitely deserves a 3” or “No it’s lower than that.” I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that. But looking at how much fun I had with the game aspect and seeing just how customizable the experience is, that’s why I’m leaning higher. You as a gamer have every right to hold on to that prejudice towards Abby. There are those that can’t get past that and I fully understand, I was that way for the majority of my playthrough. As a reviewer though, I felt that I had take a step back and view the story as is without prejudice and I see an “ok” story. Definitely not the Naughty Dog standard one might expect, but not as terrible as the internet makes it out to be.

The Last of Us Part 2 receives a 4 out of 5.

[marjansmarwani]

I want ours to be an endless song

5.9k || ao3

“You can’t die on Christmas” + hurt for Day 5 of @911christmasweek2020

——

TK figures that working on Christmas Eve will be nice, he’ll get to spend the day with his team and maybe even get to see his boyfriend on a call. It starts out like that too - until an incident in the field forces him to confront one of his biggest fears and threatens to change everything for good. Despite everything: all his training and years of experience, all he can do is wait and hope for a Christmas miracle; for anything that will save him from losing the best thing he has ever had.  

Thanks as always go to @officerrxyes for both creative input (get yourself a friend who will discus the technicalities of a scene at length with you) and editing. There were multiple times during the writing when I said that I shouldn’t be allowed to write Christmas things (it gets pretty sad/angsty) but it has a happy ending, I swear! 

------

TK didn’t mind working on Christmas, really. 

Working the Christmas Eve shift meant that he was guaranteed to spend the holiday with his dad and his team. They were his family and he wouldn’t have liked to spend the holiday any other way. The only one missing was Carlos, but he knew his boyfriend was also working today. Which left him being torn between hoping for a nice, calm shift or for a small non—life threatening emergency just so he could see Carlos. 

It was a dilemma he kept to himself. He loved his team, but there was no way they would let that particular thought pass by without comment. 

The decision was made for him just as they were settling in for the night. The others groaned when the alarms went off but TK couldn’t quite contain his grin at the possibility of seeing Carlos. 

Unfortunately for him, it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re unbearable,” Judd groaned as they piled into the rig.

“What?” 

“You know what. Could we have one call without you two not making heart eyes at each other?” 

“I think it’s cute,” Marjan interjected, but there was an edge of teasing in her tone. 

TK rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I know if he is going to be there. I have no control over which calls the police end up on.” 

As he spoke, the dispatcher’s voice crackled over their radios, “126, be advised that Austin PD has been called in for support.” 

The others gave TK an unimpressed look. He shrugged, “Guess I’m just lucky that way.” 

There was a collective groan and Owen reminded them all to get their heads in the game. They rode in silence until they arrived at the accident scene. It was a single vehicle accident with the driver — a sheepish looking teen — standing awkwardly outside of the car, looking no worse for wear. In fact, the only victim in the accident seemed to be the traffic light which did not take its pole getting hit well. 

The moment they all descended from the truck Owen began to dole out assignments: “Paul, Marjan — let’s get this pole stabilized. TK check on the driver, see if he is really okay. Everyone else, direct traffic.” 

With a chorus of “yes Cap,” they were all off to attend to their assigned task. TK grabbed the first aid kit and headed over to the unfortunate driver, “Hey there, my name’s TK. Do you mind if I give you a quick once over, just to make sure you’re okay?” 

The teen nodded, still stealing glances at the pole as Paul and Marjan worked to brace it to keep it from falling into traffic, “I’m fine, but my parents are going to kill me.” 

“Hey,” TK said reassuringly, “this isn’t ideal but you’re not hurt and neither is anyone else so if I had to guess I’d say they’ll be pretty happy about that.”

The driver took a deep breath and nodded before giving TK a nervous smile, “it’s only my second day with my license.”  

“What better time to learn then?” 

“Do you have a positive spin for everything?” 

“I’m a glass half-full kind of guy.” 

The kid laughed and TK gave him another grin before stepping back with a nod, “it looks like you walked away without even a bruise as far as I can tell — you’re very lucky. You may be a little sore tomorrow from the seatbelt, but all in all it did its job and you’re fine. Your parents will be happy about that, at least. Plus,” he looked over at where the car was stopped haphazardly on the curb, “it doesn’t even look like the car is too damaged. As far as first accidents go, this isn’t a bad one.” 

The smile he got in return was a little more certain this time, “Thanks.” 

TK returned the smile but his attention was quickly diverted by the sound of approaching sirens. He looked over to see the arrival of both the ambulance and a very familiar police cruiser. He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat as Carlos climbed out of the passenger side and walked towards them. When he drew even with TK and the teen, he gave TK a warm smile, “Hey, you.” 

“Hey yourself.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a groan from behind Carlos. TK looked past him to see his partner Mya approaching, eyes rolled. “Could we get through one accident scene without all the flirting? Is that too much to ask?”  

“Hello to you too, Mya.” 

“Hi TK, you two are nauseating.” 

“Rude.” 

“But accurate.” 

The teen was watching their conversation, amusement edging out the panic that had been in his expression before. There was that, at least. 

Carlos, on the other hand, shook his head at the pair of them, “I hate to interrupt, but Officer Esquilin and I need to take this young man’s statement if you are done with him.” 

TK nodded and closed up the first aid kit, “He has a clean bill of health and is all yours. I’ll head over and tell Michelle her services won’t be needed.” He finished gathering his supplies and paused before heading to the ambulance, “I’ll catch up with you before we leave?” 

The smile Carlos gave him this time was warm and sincere, like a promise, “Of course.” 

TK returned the smile and with a wave to Mya headed off to the ambulance, a grin still on his face. 

“You wouldn’t be flirting with your boy on the clock now, would you TK?” Michelle asked as he approached. 

TK didn’t even bother to deny it, “What can I say? It’s a Christmas miracle.” 

He updated Michelle and the rest of the paramedic team on the status of their singular accident victim and was heading back to the engine to replace the first aid kit when the sound of shouting and the horrible sound of metal on metal cut through the calm afternoon. TK was already turning to see what had happened when another sound ripped through the air, freezing him on the spot. 

“Carlos!” 

The fear in Mya’s voice sent a chill down TK’s spine. He turned slowly, dread building with every heartbeat. His eyes scanned the scene desperately until he spotted him, and his heart sank. Carlos was sprawled on the pavement, the pole of the traffic light covering him. He wasn’t moving. 

TK’s heart thudded in his chest for a few frantic seconds, and then he was running before his mind had even processed the movement. He skidded to a stop and after only taking a moment to glance for immediate threats crashed to his knees beside his boyfriend. He reached out a shaking hand to check for a pulse, the sound of his own heartbeat filling his ears. He let out the breath he had been holding when he found it, sagging in relief even as Michelle arrived at Carlos’s other side. 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know,” TK said helplessly, “I just heard Mya yelling and looked over to see him down with the pole on top of him.” 

He glanced around, trying to piece it all together. There was another car now; it had slammed right into the already precarious pole. Marjan and Paul had been working on stabilizing it. He looked for them, praying that they were okay, that they hadn’t been hurt too and was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he spotted them at the edge of the chaos, gathering equipment to help the driver currently trapped in the car that had brought down the pole. 

A pained groan drew his attention back to Carlos. His eyes were open, but they were shrouded in a haze of pain. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” TK said soothingly, running a hand through his hair, “we’re going to get you out of this.” 

“Carlos, can you tell me what hurts?” Michelle asked softly from beside him. 

“What doesn’t hurt would be a shorter list,” Carlos replied, voice strained but still strong. TK took that as a good sign. He was still talking and aware, he would be fine. They just needed to free him. He looked down at the offending pole and felt his stomach twist. He didn’t know the exact dimensions of traffic lights, but he knew that there was likely well over 200 pounds resting on Carlos’s body right now, and unfortunately most of that seemed to be centered on his chest. His mind was racing with all the implications: a blow to the chest of this magnitude could cause ribs to fracture or break, organs to be damaged, internal bleeding...the list went on and on. 

“Hey, stay with me Ty.” 

Carlos’s voice, strained with pain pulled him back to the present. TK swallowed — the last thing Carlos needed now was to be worrying about him, but he wasn’t surprised. It was just like him, really. 

“Isn’t that my line?” he asked instead. 

“Maybe, but I could see you spiraling. Going there won’t help anything.” 

“You’re right,” TK agreed, “but you don’t need to be worried about me. Just focus on breathing, let us handle the rest. We’ve got this.” 

He heard his dad calling for the team and after a quick assurance from Michelle that she wouldn’t leave Carlos, got up to join them. The rest of the team looked grim as he approached and his dad wasted no time getting into it, “How is he?” 

“He’s in pain, but stable as far as I can tell.” 

He wanted to ask what happened, he wanted to know what had happened in those few seconds he had had his back turned but he didn’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary. Every moment he was here was a moment he wasn’t by Carlos’s side and that was the only place he belonged right now. 

His dad, thankfully, seemed to agree. He quickly gave instructions to the rest of the team, directing them to grab the equipment and splitting them into teams to deal with the various tasks that would need to be handled. When he was done he lowered his voice, turning back to TK. 

“TK, stay with him. Keep him calm and still; this is going to be rough enough as it is, the last thing he needs is to accidentally shift and get hurt even more.” 

His worried gaze never left Carlos, who was still looking dazed and trying his best to track the flurry of movement around him. TK followed his dad’s gaze, swallowed, and nodded. Without a word he returned to Carlos’s side, reaching out a gentle hand to turn his face away from where Paul and Judd were getting the equipment set up.  

“Hey, look at me, okay?” he instructed softly, “just stay with me. You’re going to be alright, the team’s got this. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Carlos nodded weakly, eyes glazed over with pain and TK’s heart clenched. He slipped off one of his gloves and ran a gentle hand through Carlos’s hair, “Just stay with me,” he repeated, hoping his voice sounded stronger out loud than it did in his own ears, “it’s going to be okay.” 

Carlos gave him a weak, tired smile and TK returned it. Despite everything—all the pain and fear—Carlos was still smiling at him. He loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

[continue reading on ao3]

[likeawildthing]

tell me s’more

9,100 words of light-hearted Summer Camp fun, a day late for the August @jilychallenge! A03 <> FFN

eleven.

James rolls the window up, down, and up again until his mom intervenes, flipping the window lock switch so the window is stuck halfway down. He ducks to avoid the wind and settles for bouncing his feet on the back of her chair. That lasts about thirty seconds before she pushes her seat back an inch. James notes the warning and stops.

She should understand his excitement, because he’s going out of his mind with anticipation—eight glorious weeks of summer camp. Hogwarts! The promise of adventure outweighs the weird name.

He’d normally reject anything his parents showed any enthusiasm for on principle, but his uncle (who James trusts implicitly) told him about an abandoned mine shaft, endless s’mores, and even gave James his vintage camo jacket for capture the flag.

Mostly, the prospect of an entire parentless summer with Sirius is going to be awesome (even if they’re in the Michigan UP with spotty cell reception).

 He unconsciously taps his mom’s chair again (apparently), because before he knows it she’s reclined her seat all the way back. He’s squished, pinned, but not painfully so. She’s cackling evilly. He knows from experience that she won’t relent until he promises to either keep his feet off her chair or switches to his dad’s side of the car.

In a blinding stroke of brilliance, he gives her a double Wet Willy instead. She shrieks and pulls her seat up immediately. He’ll pay for that before the day is out—she might raspberry him in front of Sirius, or cry.

Doesn’t matter, worth it.

The drive would be more bearable with Sirius, but his parents had insisted on flying. And James’s dad forbade him to ask “how long” before they’d even left Chicago. Now, the GPS marks their progress as they meander through boring Wisconsin. His mom tells him that when they get to Cokeworth, they’ll be close.

His dad unlocks the window controls, and his mom rolls her eyes, and James daydreams about using the pocket knife his dad had slipped him that morning to carve his name into his bunk while he rolls the window up, down, and up again.

 - - - - -

Lily swings back, forth, and back again on the rickety swing, picking shapes out of the clouds, tuning out Petunia. Petunia, who glares at the long processional of flashy cars and rants about elitism. It’s the same as every year, first Friday in June, start of summer camp. Pet’s only ranting because she’s jealous she’s not going to Hogwarts.

(God, Pet, who cares if rich kids are going to rich camp? She doesn’t even like being outside anymore, but it’s that she’s left out that bothers her.)

Never mind any of it—the day is glorious after months of snow, and Lily wants nothing more than to swing and feel sunshine on her face and not be in school.

Their mom teaches summer school, but this year Pet was declared “big enough to look after them both.” Lily loves Jessica P., the neighbor who normally comes over and watches them and takes them to the movies.

(Jessica P. approved endless ice cream and always sided with Lily.)

Dad said Pet’s only job was to make sure Lily did not get “seriously maimed or injured, whatever that means, not to boss her around every second of the day. He also said Lily was perfectly old enough to go off with her friends in the mornings, or to the gas station or park by herself. He also said not to tell mom that last part.

None of that has stopped Pet from bossing her around every second of their first day alone (nothing new), but Lily is old enough to ignore her (also nothing new).

So aside from chores and Pet’s bossiness, it’s going to be an amazing summer. Once the pool opens, Pet will be too busy swooning over Owen to pay her proper attention. And Lily got an iPod in January and Lizzie has promised to show her how to steal music. Pet will calm down (or get distracted, or both), and then Lily’s got weeks of new music and swimming and popsicles and adventures ahead of her.

How cool could a stuffy old place full of rich city kids be, anyway? If it’s the sort of place this new version of her sister wants to go, then Lily wants nothing to do with it.

Probably.

And okay, capture the flag would be awesome, but what’s it to her?

Lily puts her earbuds in and pumps for the sky—not even Pet’s incessant whining will ruin today.

James is a Gryffindor (obviously), which means he sits in the Lion sections of the mess hall, at lodge, and at campfire. He’s the youngest of his seven cabin mates, though it hardly matters because Sirius it there. James’s bunkmate, Remus, is cool even though his name is Remus. Everyone calls him Lupin to make up for it. James goes by Potter, which makes him feel older than he really is.

Camp is so much more than his uncle and parents had told him. James can already speak Pig Latin, eat seven marshmallows at once, and light a fire.

(Ok, so he just threw the match on the fire frank had built, but still. Awesome.)

He put up a solid enough defense during Round 1 of capture the flag that his captain moved him to offense for Round 2—youngest in living memory!

Frank, James’s counselor, is the coolest person James has ever met, despite the fact that (at seventeen) he’s practically an adult, and even though he does armpit checks to make sure they actually showered with soap every night. Frank calls Pete’s armpits weapons of mass destruction, which is hilarious and also true. Pete (who can’t be called by his terrible last name Pettigrew) pretends to shoot missiles, which is maybe trying too hard to be cool. But he can do armpit farts and burp the Canadian national anthem, which demands mad respect.

Hogwarts is, hands down, the best place James has ever been. School’s okay, but everyone here is relaxed and wants to have fun (the best parts of school, in James’s opinion). No one except McGonagall minds if he breaks the rules, or even bothers to enforce them.

He doesn’t even mind the singing.

James loves it all so much—completely unironically—that he’s too busy to be homesick. Almost. He writes to his mom every week and looks forward to his candy-smuggled care packages, whatever the camp rules say. But he’ll never tell anyone, not even Sirius (especially not Sirius), that his raggedy stuffed dog (Cat) is squished at the bottom of his sleeping bag. And though he doesn’t care cuddle Cat and give his secret away, James’s toes rub against the scraggly fur at night. (It’s almost good enough.)

And while he hasn’t found the mineshaft yet, he’s snuck out three times. Sure, Frank did bust him each and every time, but some things can’t be helped.

James will work out a workaround and do some proper exploring before the summer ends.

- - - - -

Although Lily doesn’t like like anyone, Carlie Ray Jepson almost makes her wishes she did. Almost—Owen broke Petunia’s heart into a “million tiny pieces” (even though they weren’t even dating!), and she’s been even more insufferable than usual.

If liking someone means carrying on like that, no thanks! God!

Summer had started out great with half a dozen sleepovers and swimming, but now her only friend within walking/riding distance, Lizzie, is grounded for piercing her little sister’s ears. So Lily’s bored out of her freaking mind. She could play Club Penguin indefinitely, but the Evans house only has one computer and, whatever mom says about sharing, Petunia’s been pulling rank to torture her Owen Sim in weird, creepy ways.

Lily spends most of her days at the park, or scrounging for enough change to grab a treat from the gas station, but one day while exploring she finds a rundown fort-ish structure in the woods. It was maybe once a fort and could definitely be one again. An amazing one.

(It probably belongs to an axe murderer or is cursed and Lily will die a violent death, but that’s a risk worth taking. It’s mysterious and interesting and suits Lily perfectly.)

And OK, she might be a little too old for a fort, and Pet would say she’s seen Bridge to Terabithia too many times, but who cares?

Being the little sister means almost everything she owns belongs to Petunia first, and what she owns outright still has to be shared. Lily feels the same way about this that she does her iPod.  Anyway, Petunia would ruin this in the same way she’s ruined everything lately: by being rude, or snobby, or distant.

Puberty has ruined her sister, and their friendship, and Lily vows that it (puberty, being a troll, etc. etc.) won’t happen to her. Her mom has urged her to be patient, and one day she’ll understand, but no thanks? Lily will stay eleven and a decent human being, thank you very much. God.

For now, she’s got another month left of summer and a fort to make awesome for when (if) Liz gets ungrounded.

- - - - -

Whatever James said earlier, it’s not like James wants to sneak out of camp. It’s that every adult in his life has conspired against him and he’s left with no other choice.

James doesn’t mind mice, but Frank did not appreciate one running across his face in the middle of the night. (Wimp!) The mouse infestation was blamed on James’s candy stash. And yes, there may have been a correlation, but to blame it entirely on the sweets was bad science without investigating other contributing factors. No one else saw it this way, however, and McGonagall wrote home to all Gryffindor 1 parents kindly asking that they stop sending sweets.

James’s mother stopped immediately, and his dad stopped when caught out by James’s mom. Even his uncle sent his regrets.

When hunger pains struck at 3 am last week, frank threw an apple at his bunk. Ridiculous.

And then James’s commissary privileges were restricted when his second secret stash was found.

All of these were annoying and insulting, but the final straw, the one that really did James in? The brainless decision to eliminate chocolate from campfire.

1.       Graham crackers and one pissant marshmallow does not a s’more make.

2.       2. Sacrilege.

So, again, with every adult in his life conspiring against him (even Frank, who at 17 barely counted as one), James really feels that he hasn’t been given any other choice.

The opportune time to sneak out is all swim, when the Gryffindor counselors are on break and the counselors in training and lifeguard are left to keep fifty kids from drowning. Even they have figured out that James and Sirius cannot be trusted alone together, but James bribes Pete to fake a stomach ache.

James then volunteers to take him to the nurse.

The plan works beautifully. They, the youngest Gryffindor boys, have pooled their resources with the idea of sending him and Pete to the gas station. They change clothes in the woods and hike out using the map his uncle had sent as a peace offering.

X marks the spot. The sweet spot. (Sirius had punched him when he told that joke, but Pete laughs when James tells it again.)

The laughter stops when Pete, anxious about what his mother will say should they get caught, heads back when they take two left turns even though the map only said one. Then it’s just James. He’d barely paid attention during orienteering, but the thought of another s’more-less campfire keeps him going.

He’s got the map, nearly $30 in loose change and small bills, and the rest of the summer at stake.

As his giant nerd dad would say, onward and upward.

- - - - - 

Lily’s painting her fort a pathetic sort of pink—red front door paint mixed with white trim paint, thanks to dad’s borderline hoarder tendencies—when a boy wanders by. As her fort set deep in the woods, this is unusual. And boy is a loose term, as he looks a little bit deranged and a lot bit disheveled.

Also, he greets her by asking whether she is a mirage.

Deranged or not, he’s the most interesting thing to happen to her in ages. Or at least a week (since Lizzie got herself grounded again.)

Once they both establish that neither is an axe murderer, and that he’s from Hogwarts, and he’s lost after wandering in the woods for hours, and she not only knows where he is but where he wants to go, he—James Potter—starts talking and does not stop.

He promises to pay her in candy if she guides him to the gas station, even more if she can guarantee safe, but discrete, passage back to camp. Lily would have done this free of charge, but she’s not stupid. She pretends like it is a big burden and negotiates a decent haul. He balks at her $5 price, but at the end of the day, she points out, he’ll have $25 more in sweets than he’ll have without her assistance.

It’s impossible to argue with that, although it’s clear he wants to, so they fist bump and she leads the way.

While he’s got no shortage of confidence (a bit too much after having got lost in the woods and thinking you were near death when the road was literally a quarter mile away), he’s far from the vomit-inducing scum Pet has always made his sort out to be. As he prattles on about Hogwarts, his enthusiasm is infectious, even if she only understands about half of his references.

At the gas station she carefully selects her sweets. An argument breaks out as to whether the $5 included tax, but as he did not specify this, Lily gets exactly $4.98 in candy with only a twinge of guilt. (That isn’t enough to make her put anything back.) She insists that he gets Peanut Butter Cups for s’mores. He cringes and argues, but buys them when she insists that she won’t lead him back to camp unless he gets them.

But when it comes time to pay, he comes up short. $30 short to be exact. Best as he can figure, he threw out the money, along with all of his supplies, when he panicked in the woods. GOD.

It was a stupid thing to do, and she tells him so, but he’s so despondent she doesn’t have the heart to be angry with him any longer. She pulls her own $5 from her pocket and tells him to pick a sweet to keep. Only because he’d been through so much and, if he’s right, he’s in for a world of hurt when he gets back to camp.

(His half hour excursion has turned into a two hour ordeal.)

On cue, Frank (who is, to Lily, to her older cousin’s ex), bursts into the gas station. It’s clear he’s been running—he’s all red and puffy in the face, and he can’t exactly speak because he’s trying to catch his breath. He holds up a single hand to James, who sets his candy slowly on the counter and puts his hands up (as if it were a bank robbery).

And it sort of is. Lily feels like that scene in the Lion King when Simba gets in trouble, except she’s Nala. Without another word, James follows Frank out the gas station, presumably back to camp.

Summer’s nearly over, and its’ been dull, and as Lily eats her PB cup, she wonders if Hogwarts might mean something to her after all. Not for Potter (a proper twit, all things considered), but all the things he’d talked about—the games, and the campfire, and the archery and kayaking and capture the flag—those sound divine.

And ok, summer camp (and Hogwarts in particular) sounds like a little bit of a cult, but for the first time Lily wonders what it’d be like to join.

twelve.

Cokeworth news, like that for most small towns, consists of the local school’s honor roll and the library’s updated summer hours. So when the local summer camp changed ownership and the new owner lowered tuition to encourage local campers, it was News.

It was certainly News in the Evans household. Lily had surprised even herself in begging to go. She hadn’t given Hogwarts a ton of thought over the school year, but Petunia had grown increasingly distant and the idea of spending another summer with her is unbearable. Besides, Lizzie is too good at getting into trouble to rely upon for consistent summer fun.

And despite her parents’ reservations—the length of time away, the tuition (even reduced)—Lily got her way in the end. Petunia was angry because her parents had vetoed her trip to Disney (which was, as her mom pointed out, only 5 days and twice as expensive as camp), but Petunia wouldn’t have any of it. She hissed horrible things to Lily when their parents weren’t paying attention.

But Lily was going to Hogwarts, and she was thrilled about it, and Petunia couldn’t ruin that for her.

Anyway, she would have been just as annoyed to have Lily hanging around all summer.

After a tense dropping off with her sister, Lily bade farewell to her parents and headed to Gryffindor 1. Her counselor Alice was cheerful and friendly, and Lily was thrilled to see schoolmate Mary MacDonald in her cabin. They weren’t close, as Mary was a year younger, but it would be nice to see a friendly face.

- - - - -

If it’s even possible, James is more excited to return to Hogwarts than he’d been to come in the first place. Although his parents may disagree, the ride up is triple fun because Sirius joins them.

He’s got Frank as counselor again. They’d made a truce last year when Frank had agreed to reinstate s’mores, proper s’mores, if James agreed not to sneak out anymore. At least he didn’t have to worry about that again. (Frank definitely had to worry about the sneaking out though.)

Besides, his dad stocked a respectful stock of snacks in a rodent proof container.

As camp begins, James enjoys a certain level of notoriety for his gas station stunt the previous summer. Whether good or bad, he doesn’t care—at least everyone knows his name. (As it should be.)

The three people he cares most about—Sirius, Peter, and Remus—are all together again. He’d kept up with them all throughout the school year, and the first night in the dorm is like coming home. Not that school friends aren’t great, but most school friends just don’t get camp. Even Sirius had told him to shut up about it when he went on about it too much.

Even if Sirius isn’t as hooked on camp as James, he’d follow James anywhere.

The others balance out his and Sirius’ collective stupidity, and they’re both funny in their own unique ways, and it’s just—they’re better together than apart. Most importantly, this year they’re the older Gryffindor 1 boys.

It’s going to be awesome.

- - - - -

Dumbledore, the camp’s new owner, is wildly eccentric, but to Lily that seems a prerequisite for the job.

Hogwarts is so much more like a cult than Lily had ever imagined, but it’s an amazing cult.

One she doesn’t quite belong to yet, but desperately wants to. As one of only a handful of local kids, Lily didn’t now the camp language, camp jokes, or layout. Apparently some prominent families had pulled their children in protest at the change, and others weren’t thrilled with the newcomers. Mostly though, everyone is nice, and Lily ignores those who aren’t.

Each camp day is like two weeks in real life, so she makes friends fast and her indoctrination doesn’t take very long. She and Mary do roll their eyes at one another when one of the other girls complain about rich kid problems, but that’s the worst of it.

Lily’s so busy sunup to sundown that she barely has time to consider life out of camp.

She loves arts and crafts and field games. She can find a path through the woods better than anyone else in her cabin, though she can’t paddle a boat to save her life. Even the cafeteria food, which the snobbier kids complain about, is a thousand times better than the garbage her school serves during the school year. In truth, there isn’t anything Lily doesn’t love, but her favorite is capture the flag.

Capture the flag is also James Potter’s favorite, and he insists Gryffindor lost last year because he was banned for the (infamous) gas station incident. Lily thinks he’s just a little full of himself.

To knock him down a peg, she scares the Gryffindor 1 boys one night by telling them about Dogman. Sightings date back almost a century and Lily adds in all the right details, like the glowing red eyes and her perfect impersonation of the howl. If they knew anything at all, they’d know Dogman is an LP monster, but they don’t and they fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

Rumor has it the boys slept with their lights on for days.

Lily feels bad, but not that bad.

- - - - -

Priority number one is to get a proper map of the place. By midsummer all known parts of camp are marked and the southeast quadrant is charted a little at a time. The map is Lupin’s brainchild, James just does the art.

He tries to pay attention in orienteering but he still can’t reliably tell east from west. His real takeaway is to always have Lupin with him if he’s in the woods.

After Dogman, James sleeps with his flashlight for two days until Frank takes his batteries.

James’s favorite part of the summer so far has been fleshing out his vocabulary, as he and his friends have properly discovered swear words and use them liberally when the little boys aren’t around. Frank calls him out of he uses too many “fucks” in a day, but otherwise lets them be.

He (weirdly) draws the line at their making up dirty lyrics to the camp song though, because sacrilege.

James’s real sore spot this year is capture the flag—he’s been put on defense again and has to prove himself before he’s allowed to switch back. And even though she saved his life last year, Lily Evans is bossy about defense strategies. 

(Even though she’s never played before this summer. And yes, her ideas are generally good, but it’s the principle of the thing.)

Tonight’s the last round of the summer, and he’s in charge of defense, and he’ll be damned if they don’t win.

- - - - -

It’s the last round of the year and Potter’s got a stick up his ass about being in charge again.

He’s actually a brilliant strategist (though she wouldn’t tell him that, his ego doesn’t need a boost from her). It’s that way he assumes he’s in charge that rubs wrong with Lily. And it’s not that they aren’t friendly—the girls mostly keep to themselves and Lily told Olivia the truth about last summer, who told everyone else, and James had been a bit embarrassed about all of it. Come to find out he’d told a different version of events to the camp. Lily hadn’t meant to embarrass or contradict him, but he hadn’t been overly thrilled about it.

They steered clear of each other in general, but not tonight. Because the Golden flag is on the line and they’ve got to kick some serious ass.

His strategy is, as usual, brilliant, and she’s too keyed up to make a fuss. As she’s the lightest person who isn’t terrified of heights (Liam W. got stuck during Round 3 and his wails gave their position away), Lily climbs into a pine and starts lookout.

 Everything’s going fine until she carelessly climbs too high in an effort to see more. Her branch cracks and she falls out of the tree. James, in the tree just to her left, hops down and comes to her aid. She’s done something to her ankle she can’t stand on it. Neither of them know what to do, but it hurts so much she starts crying.

Just then, the crack of a branch alerts them to someone else’s presence. She didn’t shriek, and she doesn’t cry out now, however much it hurts, but it feels like Round 3 all over again.

But then, something happens. She and James make eye contact, then nod in mutual understanding. The golden flag is more important than an injured ankle. She mouths “go” and he doesn’t wait for her to change her mind, sprinting off to the left so he can assess the danger and reinforce their defenses.

It is fractured, she finds out hours later, but they win.

- - - - -

Maybe Evans isn’t so bad after all.

 thirteen.

Third year, James finally understands why most camp activities are separated by gender—he and his mates discover girls. He doesn’t like any girl in particular, but it doesn’t matter. Frank gives a long, awkward speech on day one about dorm etiquette and allows as much shower time as necessary to keep the cabin “decent”.

Second week, James  earns a lifetime ban in archery when he accidently shoots Flitwick in the foot. It wasn’t his fault the girls were playing volleyball in the next field over.

- - - - -

Despite her best efforts, Lily grows boobs and hair in places she’d never dreamed. (It’s awful.) Her personality doesn’t turn to sour grapes like Petunia’s, whose distance only grew in the last year, but she doesn’t feel comfortable in her own skin and some days, she hates everything.

She grew about three inches over the school year, making her taller than the Gryffindor boys her age. It drives Potter nuts and she loves it. Her mom says her arms and legs need to catch up, but her paddling strokes (which had gotten better by the end of the year last year) are off, and her kick doesn’t connect with the soccer ball in the right way.

Even capture the flag feels like a lost cause.

Her friends are all going through the same thing, and the awkwardness Lily felt the summer before is gone. These are her friends, her people, and she’s been fully indoctrinated into cult camp. Now she’s the one reliving inside jokes and making up songs about the cute older counselors. Growing up is awful, but at least she’s not alone.

- - - - -

Frank teaches James how to play guitar, but the triumph of the summer is finding the old abandoned mineshaft. Sirius calls it underwhelming. For James it’s the principle. It’s been on his camp list for two years of searching, and he’s glad to have it crossed off.

While he’s still shit at orienteering, he has most of camp memorized so it hardly matters.

- - - - -

Stephanie Pearson brought an Ouija board and claims that, like her great aunt, she’s a clairvoyant. The girl has watched too much Ghost Hunters, but what else have they got to do? Scaring each other shitless is one of the best things about camp.

The planchette moves, honest to god, spells out the name of the ghost who definitely-doesn’t­-but-maybe-does haunt the old latrine. Mary swears it wasn’t her, and Lily knows it wasn’t her. And it’s all so ridiculous, but Stephanie has a fit, admits she was never a clairvoyant-anything, she made it all up, and throws the Ouija board out the window.

They sleep with the lights on for two days.

- - - - -

She can build a better campfire, but James Potter is taller than her by the end of summer.

fourteen.

It began simply, escalated quickly, and ended abruptly when James accidentally fell through the Gryffindor Girls’ 2 dorm skylight. (He doesn’t break any bones, though that might have garnered more sympathy from his mother when she received the bill to replace the window.)

And even though his punishment, sharing laundry duty with Evans, will last for the rest of the summer, James doesn’t regret a single decision he’d made.

- - - - -

Alright—Lily had started the prank war against the boys, but it had been a total accident.

She hadn’t meant to leave her cinnamon sugar toast by the boys’ clothesline. She will never, ever tell anyone this, except maybe Lizzie, but she’d seen the swim trunks, gotten distracted thinking of certain boys in them, and left her toast on the post from which the clothesline hung.

By the time word spread around that Lily Evans had sabotaged the boys clothesline with fire ants, causing several boys to get bit you-know-where, she’d earned an astonishing level of notoriety for the second summer in a row.

To admit it had been an accident wasn’t something Lily’s honor would permit.

Besides, the boys would never believe her, retaliation was coming whether she took credit for it or not.

They retaliated swiftly (and rather amateurishly) with cicadas in the girls’ sheets. The girls responded with water guns in the middle of the night, which led to a sprinkler in their cabin in the middle of the next.

The girls looked to Lily as their de facto leader, citing her strategic brilliance. Lily felt rather lost, but her lovely counselor Alice (also Frank’s girlfriend, in interesting developments since last summer!) helped her along.

Things turn when the girls steal the boys’ chocolate for campfire night. Although Lily knows she’s stoking the fire, tucking the spent wrappers into Potter’s pillow, she doesn’t care until she and her friends return from swim to find dismembered doll heads screwed to their bunks. In a bold and dangerous move, the girls, under Lily’s direction, steal the golden flag from the boys’ bunk even though it’s their week to have it. The girls send them go on an hours’ long scavenger hunt to earn it back (giggling as the boys enduring a series of humiliations including, but not limited to, a botched haircut and racing around the pool in ill-fitting heels).In the end, they discover that it had been under Potter’s bed the entire time.

Lily expects something big in response, and rightly so. She even hears the boys on the roof, but she damn well expects Potter and his mates to keep off the skylights.

Well.

Dumbledore, who permitted rather a lot, negotiates a ceasefire with all parties involved. And, while Lily will have to wash the boys’ dirty laundry every Sunday for the rest of the summer, she knows the prank war will the stuff of camp legend.

So, worth it.

- - - - -

James proudly sports a ridiculous reverse mohawk that he can only hope will grow in by start of school.

He doesn’t even think about resenting her for it—Evans beat him fair and square and he respects that. And though he scribbles them out every time, he finds himself using his newly re-acquired drawing pencils to doodle her initials in the corner of his chord sheets.

fifteen.

Lily gets a ukulele for Christmas and, by the time camp starts (and about a thousand YouTube covers later), she’s convinced herself she’ll be the next big camp star. Problem is, she can’t actually sing. That’s never stopped her before, and no one at camp can sing anyway. Star might be stretching it, but she has to intervene or Potter will start taking over campfire.

(Fake it till you make it, right?)

It’s not that he’s bad at singing. He wouldn’t be terrible at singing. She’s always had a deeply weird, intense rivalry with Potter. Ever since that first day in the woods, she can’t shake the feeling of trying to outwit him. And while the prank war had ended in her favor last summer, it had technically been a draw rather than an outright victory.

It’s that he’s good at everything and she sort of hates him for it. Or wants to. It’s hard to hate Potter, but he’s not god’s gift to the world. He’s not. His ego is bigger than Shaker Creek after a good rain and he doesn’t need to add “lead campfire” to the list of reasons to inflate it. (Even if he’d look good doing it. She can admit as much. She’d be an idiot not to.)

So it’s not that she wants to poison him with iocane powder, but it’d be nice to win outright for once.

She plays and sings—badly, but at least she’s having a blast. And that’s what camp is all about.

And at least she looks cute, thanks to Mary’s ability to fishtail braid, because she secretly hopes that hot, funny counselor-in-training Dan (Divine Dan) will notice her. Potter can hold his own with a guitar, but Dan is tall and likes the same movies as her and he’s in a band. She wishes he’d sweep her off her feet and canoe into the sunset. (Or at least take her to the canoe shed to make out.)

It’s not like everything she does is to get Dan to notice her. Mary corrects her every time she insists this, saying it’s only about 80%. Yes, she’s wearing make-up every day, even at camp. And yes, she pretended to know nothing about archery so he would teach her. But it’s 60% at best.

She’s at camp, after all, there’s still plenty of fun to be had. Having a summer crush is a nice, nice bonus.

(And having a cute braid, a new push up bra, and a ukulele can’t hurt in getting his attention.)

- - - - -

James sets his marshmallows on fire during four consecutive campfires, distracted by Evan’s strumming and her bigger tits and her hair shining in the firelight. He doesn’t ask her out, because he knows she has a thing for Dodgy Dan. (And he grits his teeth a lot because Dan is stringing her along, and he wants to intervene but it’s definitely not his place.

He doesn’t ask her out, but he sort of wants to. A little. (A lot.)

He’s such an idiot, but she let him paint starry night on her ukulele. Asked him to, actually. He likes her even though she went to show Dodgy Dan just after he’d finished. And he likes her even though she’s a bit of an idiot, insisting on eating her s’mores the wrong way.

But doesn’t that make him the idiot?

His friends say yes, especially Sirius. He can’t disagree, but he does minimize the whole thing. To distract himself, he insists they cause some good old-fashion, non­-prank war mischief.

They’re at camp, after all. What’s the point in wasting the summer pining over a (gorgeous, funny) girl?

Garbage bag slip-and-collide is born during after a burst of inspiration during free time one Tuesday. Like any game worth playing, the rules are overly-complicated and subject to change, and the chance for injury is exceedingly high. They last two hours—with a dozen others joining in, even Evans—before McGonagall discovers them.

She chews them out for half an hour, shouting about the liability and a gross misuse of camp property until her voice grows hoarse and James offer to get her a drink of water so she can keep going. Sensing impending doom, Dumbledore finally intervenes. They have to replace the broken laundry carts and apologize to the activities director for taking the helmets without permission (used and borrowed at Evans’s insistence), but that’s the worst of it.

The nurse patches up Davies’ cut, so no lasting injuries.

Still, the Marauders (a nickname they’d picked up from Frank last year for their night-time explorations) sneak into town to get some more garbage bags and pop up games happen throughout the rest of the summer.

- - - - -

Lily is paired as co-captain with James Potter for Round 5.

She’s not against it, or him. Any mind that can come up with the best game in years, slip-and-collide, can strategize a winning strategy for capture the flag. And she can (and does) criticize Potter for his ego, but she’ll never question his dedication to winning capture the flag. His mania in that is matched only by her own.

But camp is half over and she doesn’t want to subject herself to two weeks of bickering while they prepare. And the more time spent bickering, the less time she can hang out with Dan.

Still, in the name of recapturing the golden flag—currently in Ravenclaw possession, humiliating to say the last—they set aside most of their free time to strategize. They agree only that she’ll lead defense (he doesn’t have the patience for it) and he’ll lead offense (she doesn’t have the physique to brutalize the enemy) before they’re at loggerheads.

The year before, their counselors had insisted on using rock, paper, scissors as a mechanism for solving disagreements. Lily suggests trying it now, for civility’s sake. They use it strategically when presented with equally good ideas, but differing opinions as to which is preferred—mainly flag and player placement.

It’s true that they know each other well enough to predict what the other will do. (James prefers to change it up but she guesses his pattern, and Lily prefers scissors, always.) They try to fake each outer out—it never works. They sometimes have to go to ten rounds before someone wins.

Still, it’s better than bickering unnecessarily.

Sometimes Lily won’t budge from her position, but Potter listens and even changes his mind a few times. He turns out to be funny in a different way up close—cornier jokes, almost dad-ish in nature, a bit awkward and goofy because his arms and legs are too big for his body and he’s always bumping into things. And he’s less bro-ish without his friends around to egg him on.

It’s a different version of Potter, an easier one to manage. One she doesn’t mind at all, actually.

At the very least, it makes planning for capture the flag easier. They’re able to plan a solid strategy with minimal bickering and get everyone on board.

- - - - -

Lupin calls their bickering flirting, Pete calls it foreplay, and Sirius’s response is always muffled because he gets a pillow to the face.

Frank just rolls eyes. James can’t prove it, but he suspects Frank and Alice arranged the co-captains thing.

(He’s not complaining—it’s been brilliant. Why they hadn’t been using rock, paper, scissors for the last several years, he doesn’t know.)

(Because Evans is fun to poke fun at, and she can dish it back twice as much.)

- - - - -

The match isn’t without hiccups, but Gryffindor wins the round.

(Just barely. Owen P. tripped and nearly lost the Ravenclaw flag he’d just grabbed and James Potter, his relay, had to bust ass in the opposite direction to get it from him. And then, when he was outrunning three Ravenclaws, he fell eight feet down a hill, and wrist is sprained, but they win and she’s over the moon.

Lily hugs him to the exasperated nurse’s station to get a sling.

- - - - -

James is the hero of Gryffindor. It makes him (as Sirius says—ten shades of loser), but of the celebrations afterward, the one that matters most is the hug Evans gives him. And that she volunteers to accompany him to the nurse’s station to get bandaged up.

James is always on his toes with Evans, trying to get the upper hand. What that looks like, he has yet to figure out. He does know that, while he’ll only admit it to Cat, he’s a bit depressed when their co-captainship is over (even if the end result is a victory).

She just wants to be his friend. He sees that. He can do friends.

Friends is a hell of a lot better than nothing.

- - - - -

Lily’s joy over their victory is gives way to heartbreak because Dodgy Ducking Dan is in love with another CIT, Kaylee Peterson. Or at least Mary saw them heading toward the canoe shed (holding hands!) after dinner.

And even though she and Dan weren’t dating, he’d definitely flirted with her.

Mary tries to be sympathetic but, while the other girls spend the night vilifying Kaylee, Mary shrugs and says it’s not like summer camp romances are forever, and it would’ve ended at the end of next week anyway when camp ended.

Intellectually, Lily knows this—she’d spent the summer before (when she wasn’t pranking the Gryffindor 2 boys) pining over Jake P., a Ravenclaw. They’d kissed twice, and it had been nice, but it also hadn’t been a big deal. Their romance had ended with camp, no big deal. But this was different—she’d really liked him. And he’d said she was so good on ukulele, and had bought her a Reece’s before campfire.

(And if that isn’t leading a girl on, what is?)

It does occur to Lily that she’s acting a bit unhinged, pretty much exactly like her sister did not so many summers before. The only thing she does with this information is imagine torturing a Sim Dodgy Dan in horrible, creepy ways. She doesn’t have a computer at camp, so she settles for making a little voodoo figure of him in arts and crafts.

Lupin declares this wildly unhealthy and calls for an intervention.

An intervention at summer camp looks like this: bribe the CITs with soda to look the other way, take an off-trail night hike over the hills, bushwhacking past the frog pond and out to the old lake in the corner of the property. Canoe at midnight. Tip over in the lake, getting soaked, because you are stupid enough to get into a canoe with James Potter. Sing at the stars, even though Pete makes fun of your terrible voice. Laugh until you almost pee your pants. Brave the haunted outhouse because you will pee your pants if you don’t piss soon. Ignore that Mary and Sirius definitely left to make out (trust that they will find their way back). Bid Pete and Lupin a good night when they give up and head back to bed.

Take Potter to your long-abandoned pink fort. Find that it has been painted blue by parties unknown. (Or green, it’s hard to tell in this light.) Reminisce about the first time you met, about life outside camp, and art and movies and favorite vines and food and families and what a shit singer you really are. Talk until the coldest part of the night sets in and you realize the counselors will set out a search party for you soon.

Talk for another hour for good measure.

Finally yawn and stretch and stand up, because if you don’t leave soon you won’t be back before everyone wakes up. Wish the next fort occupant happy daydreaming and fortifying. Head back to camp, slowly and a little bit reluctantly, but a tiny big happier than you were at the beginning of the night. Full, at any rate, though of what you aren’t sure.

Still indulge in a good cry in bed, because sometimes boys can be complete assholes.

Amend that later, because sometimes (some) boys can be kind of amazing.

Although she and Potter have followed each other on social media (as camp friends do), they exchanged numbers and promise to keep in touch throughout the school year. It’s going to be interesting, being friends with Potter, but she’s not not looking forward to it.

sixteen.

CIT James obeys the rules, listens to his counselor faithfully, and never sets a bad example for his charges, the campers. This is the lecture he receives from McGonagall on day one, anyway. The serious façade lasts about as long as it takes for Frank to say both hello and holy-shit-I-thought-it-would-be-Lupin in the same breath. After that, it’s business as usual.

His parents had floated the idea of skipping camp this year, going on an extended family vacation somewhere, but James had scoffed. Where else would he rather be than camp? His friends take the piss about the CIT thing but they’re back at camp, too: Sirius as a lifeguard, Lupin as Gryffindor 1 CIT, and Pete as an archery assistant under Flitwick.

Even though they don’t have any real authority, they enjoy late curfew, unstructured free time, and access to the staff areas. (Not that restrictions have stopped them from doing exactly as they pleased before. It’s just nice that they may get have less tellings off from McGonagall this summer).

The only tradeoff is no capture the flag—campers only. James still plans to coach his boys to victory though.

James takes over for swim, lunch, and from lights out ‘til midnight. He also helps with wake up, breakfast, and morning activities. The rest is free time.

It’s going to be a fantastic summer, because Evans is a lifeguard.

He’d known it intellectually, but actually seeing her on the lifeguard stand for two hours every day is a different story. He neglects his charges more than once because Lily Evans is in a swimsuit all day, every day. He does his best to avoid staring.

(Although, to be fair, he is always staring at her, swimsuit or not.)

To avoid being a complete creep, he mostly sits by Sirius’s lifeguard stand, pining.

They’ve transitioned from competitors to friends (competitive friends) this year, having kept in touch throughout the school year. His summer crush did not end at the end of the summer. It’s grown into something more, he doesn’t know what, but his throat goes dry and his hands sweat and he feels like he’s perpetually making an ass out of himself. He’s not used to being out of his depth, but that’s exactly how he feels with Evans.

- - - - -

Coming back to Hogwarts wasn’t even a question Lily had asked, but she second guesses herself by the end of week one.

Camp isn’t the same without Mary, who took a job at Meijer in April. And being on the caregiving end of things has changed her perspective. Her CIT friends are still in that in-between stage of not-quite-campers, not-quite-staff, but she is firmly in the staff side of things. Her her car insurance isn’t going to pay for itself, so she’d joined as a lifeguard rather than a CIT.

It’s okay, but all the boys are staring at her, and some don’t even try to hide it. She gets it—pretty girl in a swimsuit—but it’s exhausting. She often retreats to the staff cabin to avoid the male gaze.

James Potter keeps staring at her, too, more than his usual even though he’s putting in a good faith effort not to. Thing is, she likes it when he stares (though she’s putting in a good faith effort not to).

They’d never been exactly unfriendly, but a year of late night Skypes (and a Chicago meetup over the New Year) solidified their friendship. The flutter in her stomach when she catches him staring, the way she laughs at all of his jokes (even the unfunny ones) indicate a big flashing more than friends neon light, but Lily remains cautious.

They’re friends, good friends, and she doesn’t want to upset that.

Anyway, she’d ruined most of her summer pining over a boy and she’s determined not to let that happen again.

Still, she can admit that when James joins her most mornings for second breakfast after he’s done with morning crew and before she readies the pool for the day, it’s the highlight of her day. She and James are the official campfire starters now, because James is in fact the best but McGonagall won’t leave him unsupervised with any kind of fire starting paraphernalia. And when Frank officially passes on sing-a-long leader baton to him, she’s genuinely happy for him and tells him so.

It’s going to be an interesting summer.

- - - -

During week three Sirius threatens to drown him if he keeps whining about Evans without doing something about it.

He’ll drown himself if he can’t sort it out. He said he wouldn’t waste another summer pining after her, but this is less pining and more active, mutual flirtation. (If he’s not imagining things, according to Lupin and Pete.)

Most interesting, she’s flirting back. Others have noticed and pointed it out. He didn’t dare believe them at first, but the evidence is stacking up in his favor. She turned down not one, but three date requests (that he knows of). She brought him cereal the other day when he didn’t make their standing breakfast date.

The Gryffindor 2 campers take bets on when James will make his move.

Sirius’s idea isn’t a bad idea, all considered. He hasn’t got any better ideas. It’s not a very good idea, but Sandlot is one of her favorite movies and he can always play it off as a joke. She’ll get a kick out of the reference, and maybe it’ll break some of this tension between him.

So the next day while Sirius is on break James pretends to drown. Although he’d watched the scene over and over the night before he goes off script, begging Evans to him before he sinks to the bottom of the deep end.

Never one to back down from a shenanigan, she rises to the occasion, making a big show of pretending to rescue him. She drags him out of the pool, calls his name. He doesn’t stir, just pretends to be on unconscious. He can’t see her, but he hears her intake of breath when she figures out what he’s doing.

(The scene, of course, is that Squints kisses the girl while she starts giving him CPR. It’s “highly problematic,” as Lily says, but they both find it hilarious.)

He can’t see her, but he knows she’s deciding what to do.

James’s heart skips a beat when she says “stand back” and starts administering CPR. It hurts, she’s not exactly going easy on him—and the anticipation builds in James. He’s about to make his move, whatever that move will be, when—

—someone licks his face?

- - - - -

Lily descends into a fit of giggles as the mangy camp dog, Cleo, covers James’s face in slobbery kisses.

He sputters, jumps up, and gives them both a betrayed look. All of the kids had jumped out of the pool when she’d rescued James, even though, by the time she started doing CPR, most of them knew it was a joke. His eyes were closed, but the smirk on his face gave the fact that he was definitely not unconscious away. She tells him it serves him right (and it does), but she’s laughing and she knows she’s flirting.

Everyone else does too—Lily realizes her fatal mistake in delighted expressions of the campers’ faces; this will be all across the cap by dinner. She shouldn’t have reacted to him like this in a pool full of kids, or at all.

Like most things with James Potter these days, she just can’t seem to help herself.

- - - - -

Sirius offers to pay Lily to be a counselor next year if it means she’ll wear more clothes. She’s going to go after the counselor position anyway, but she makes a mental note to negotiate a hefty bonus from Black, later.

As staff, both James and Lily are subject to the Wheel of Doom—a decade’s old torture device in which anyone who receives mail must take a spin and suffer whatever minor humiliation the wheel dictates in order to receive it.

Because it’s a camp tradition going back decades, staff receive a lot of mail from campers, their campers. Sometimes alumni send a letter to “Gryffindor 2 counselor” not even knowing who the recipient will be. But the real drama is the letters staff send to each other—deodorant coupons, toenail clippings, crusty old socks.

Sirius sends James something so awful he never pulls it out of the envelope and burns it at campfire that night.

Lily is careful to mess with everyone except James for the first half of the summer. After his stunt at the pool, campers are openly teasing her now, sometimes alone but definitely when they’re together. She decides to take matters into her own hands. They’re in this awkward neither wants to ruin their friendship holding pattern and something’s got to give.

Because they are friends, but there’s more. She lives for second breakfast and late 3 a.m. woodland chat sessions. She adores his stupid made-up constellations and insistence for hiking when he can’t use a compass to save his life and his sideways grin and endless thirst for adventure. He’s brilliant and funny and the darling of the camp, a fixture.

She’s not wasting her summer pining after a boy; he’s one of the reasons she loves camp in the first place.

So, after a summer of no letters, she sends James Potter a picture of the Sandlot cast with the words “game on” scrawled on the back. The spinner wheel renders judgment; he puts on his sweatbands and leads the camp in a quick aerobic session.

(No reason she can’t have fun in the process.)

Next day, he receives two guitar pics (each in their own envelope) and takes a pie to the face.

On day three she sends three letters—a ransom letter (letters cut out and everything) for Cat, a legitimate hard copy photo book of Cat going around camp, usually with Lily’s purple nails present somewhere in the frame, and his own map of the camp (with a post-it on top spelling out “1am, tonight” next to the canoe shed.

- - - - -

He’s half-impressed at her gall, half-embarrassed that the entire camp now knows he sleeps with a stuffed animal. And while he knows no harm will come to his childhood best friend, he didn’t know anyone knew about him in the first place.

He shouldn’t be surprised, not when it comes to Evans, not anymore.

And it’s pathetic, but his main takeaway—as he’s in a tiara dancing to Dancing Queen in front of the entire camp—is that Lily Evans must like him an awful lot if she’s willing to invest that much time and energy into a prank.

He doesn’t notice until after dinner that the last back of the post-it is signed with “X O –your favorite lifeguard.”

[andawaywego]

Would you mind doing a dani x jamie ficlet about pregnant dani maybe?

i’m finally getting to this! (and hopefully some other prompts that have been sitting very patiently in my inbox). this takes place in a world with no ghosts, where Dani and Jamie have still built themselves a life in Vermont. i hope you like it!

..

Dani sits on the edge of the bathtub, waiting. She is staring at the back of the bathroom door, at Jamie’s towel hung right beside her own; remembering their shower this morning and the way Jamie closed her eyes as she let Dani scrub shampoo into her hair. 

It’s been a long four months. Going into the whole thing, she’d known the chances of a pregnancy sticking right away would be slim. That it could take some time, a few tries, before anything happened. Sometimes it takes couples years to conceive, even if they are doing things the “natural” way. But knowing these things is different than experiencing them, even when she’s been blessed with such a supportive and optimistic partner in Jamie.

Jamie who holds her hand through every procedure; who buys pregnancy tests from the store because Dani felt too embarrassed to do it herself the first few times; who holds Dani in her arms every time the tests come out negative. 

Jamie who is out getting them dinner. Who doesn’t know that Dani is sitting on the edge of the bathtub, waiting. 

Dani checks her watch. It’s been only two minutes. The box says four. 

Distantly, she hears the front door open and then the tell-tale sounds of Jamie arriving home: footsteps to the kitchen; the crinkle of the takeout bag; the fridge opening and then closing. Dani closes her eyes and imagines her in the kitchen, leaned back against the counter and wondering where her wife is. 

When she opens her eyes, it’s been three minutes.

Footsteps again, the creaking of the floorboards underfoot. Jamie is looking for her, Dani knows, but she must see the bathroom door closed. The light peeking out from beneath the gap between it and the floor. The footsteps retreat.

Four minutes.

She imagines a cloud drifting over Jamie’s face like it has every other time and tells herself that, if it’s negative, she’ll wait to tell her. She’ll give it time and then break the news as gently as she can. With a deep breath to steady herself, Dani turns the test over in her hands. Exhales.

It’s positive.

Her heart hesitates, chugging on each pump, while her mind struggles to catch up. It feels like something inside of her is lifting and lifting, skybound and unfettered, and Dani blinks once. Again. 

And then she stumbles to her feet, her legs numb from sitting in that position for so long, and tugs open the top drawer of the bathroom counter, fumbling for another pregnancy test Wants to be positive.

Double-check. Triple-check, maybe.

Just to be sure.

________

Five minutes later, she’s opening the bathroom door and trying to pitch her voice louder without letting it crack with emotion. 

“Jamie,” she calls. “Can you come in here please?”

Something metal drops to the floor in the kitchen. She hears Jamie curse and then pick it up, calling back, “Yeah! Just a sec!”

It feels like it takes years for her to finally reach the bathroom, despite how short of a walk it is. Dani’s heart pounds in her throat and her head, bites at her lungs. She can’t help but picture a litany of different reactions Jamie might have, all of them relieved, excited. Overjoyed.

Like she is.

Jamie appears in the doorway, smiling a little tentatively when she sees Dani standing very still and waiting for her. “You okay?” she asks, coming closer.

“Yes. Yeah. Perfect,” is the best thing Dani’s brain can come up with.

She’s too busy thinking: I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant with our baby.

Jamie reaches out and Dani doesn’t hesitate to fall into them. It’s been only forty minutes or so since they last saw one another, but it feels like it’s been weeks and weeks. It always does, somehow.

Nauseating, is how Owen and their other friends usually describe it, but it’s been nine years and Dani knows:

They’re in love. Terribly, wonderfully in love.

She doesn’t even realize she’s grinning until Jamie makes a face, her lips quirking up in a smile, and says, “What?”

“What?” Dani repeats.

“Something on my face? You’re smiling like a loon.”

Dani laughs and shakes her head, rocking forward to kiss Jamie’s nose. “No, no. You’re perfect. It’s just...there’s…” She stops and swallows thickly, forcing herself to calm down. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay. Well, you look too happy for it to be something bad,” says Jamie, their child’s other mother. 

Their baby. She can’t get over that.

And she knows they’ll need to go see her doctor again. Get it confirmed. But for now, she says, “Nothing bad, just…”

Another long, steadying breath.

Then, finally: “I’m pregnant.”

There it is.

The silence that follows is deafening. Dani can see the range of emotions Jamie is feeling painted clearly on her face. The way she inhales sharply, the way the shock makes her body shake where it’s pressed to Dani’s.

“You’re…” she starts to say, breaking off to lift her hands, cupping Dani’s face between them. Freezing Dani solid in her awed gaze. “You’re...You’re pregnant? You...We’re having a baby?”

Tears are stinging in Dani’s eyes at the look in Jamie’s. That wonderful disbelief. “We’re having a baby, Jay.”

“We’re having a baby,” Jamie repeats, like she’s trying the phrase out on her tongue. “We’re gonna be moms.”

Dani grins. “Yes,” she says, “we are.”

“I can’t...Holy shit, Poppins.” She laughs breathlessly. Exhilarated. Some great victory won. And then she leans in and kisses Dani until she’s breathless too. “I can’t believe we’re…I’m...”

She trails off, so Dani kisses her again. Says, “I know, I know. Me too.”

“Yeah,” Jamie breathes and Dani laughs again, brushing some of her unruly hair behind her ear. Her eyes land on the three pregnancy tests, lying capped on the counter and they’re close enough to them that, when she reaches out, she can grab one. “Oh my god,” comes her next whisper, staring down at the little screen—the little blue plus sign.

“I know.” Dani kisses the side of Jamie’s head, making her lift her eyes again. “We need to go...confirm it.”

Jamie nods seriously. “Right.”

“But—”

“Yeah,” says Jamie, laughing now, too, but her voice is thick. “Oh my god, Dani.”

That’s the moment when Dani realizes Jamie is crying. Her chin is trembling, looking at Dani like she’s her entire world and then Dani is crying too. She sniffs a little and wipes at her eye with her right hand.

“No,” she says wetly. “Stop crying. You’re making me cry.”

Another laugh. Jamie sets the pregnancy test back on the counter and pulls her closer.

“I’m just happy,” she says. “Really, really happy.” She leans up and kisses Dani’s forehead, then the bridge of her nose, and her lips again. Laughs against Dani’s lips, wet with tears, as Dani wraps her arms around her neck, trying to pull herself as close as she can. Whispers, “I love you so much,” into Dani’s hair after a few silent moments.

Dani draws her head back and looks at her wife for a moment. She kisses her. Her chest feels like it’s only seconds away from collapsing with how much she loves this woman in her arms. “I love you, too,” she says.

Jamie moves one of her hands from Dani’s hips and brings it up to rest it on her stomach. “Our baby is in here.”

The awe in her voice has Dani on the verge of tears again. She covers Jamie’s hand with her own and squeezes. “You’re going to be an amazing mother,” she says and Jamie looks at her again.

The weight of all those worries they’ve both shared in the past—fear of becoming like their own mothers; of letting their child down; not loving them enough—whisper ghosts through the curls of Jamie’s hair, making her shiver just a little. But she doesn’t argue. She just says, “So are you.”

Dani reaches up and wipes away some of Jamie’s tears with her thumbs. Lets herself be led to their bedroom—lets Jamie lie her down and hover above her. Cool air hits her stomach as Jamie lifts up the hem of her sweater, running her fingers up and down Dani’s flat stomach in breathless disbelief.

“Hi,” she says to it, then looks up. “They probably can’t hear us yet.”

Dani shakes her head, smiling. “Not for a while.”

“S’too bad. I’ve got a lot to say.”

Of course she does. Dani doesn’t doubt that one bit.

“There’s time,” she says, because there is, and Jamie’s eyes are shimmering again as she holds back tears.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Lots of it.”

They lie there for a few long minutes, just resting in the truth of this life they’ve made together. Dani understands how lucky she is to experience this with the love of her life as they lie in their bed, the apartment they share.

“Right, so...if they can’t hear us…” Jamie says, breaking the silence. She has a mischievous look in her eye that Dani knows all too well. She clenches her thighs together as best she can without drawing attention to the act. “Right?”

“Right,” she says and Jamie grins.

“Good.”

Not a second later, Dani finds herself pressed down into the mattress, Jamie resting between her legs as she kisses down her jaw and her throat, tugging Dani’s sweater up again as she goes.

She pulls away for a second, grinning already at her own dumb joke and says, “Wait. D’ya have a condom?”

Dani smacks her lightly on the shoulder and laughs. “I think it’s a little too late for that,” she says.

“I guess it’ll be fine just this once,” Jamie jokes.

Dani wants to say something witty, but then Jamie’s hand skims the bottom of her bra, eager and sure, and she forgets about anything else but them.

All three of them.

..

[blackjack-15]

Staying Tuned for a Soap Opera — Thoughts on: Stay Tuned for Danger (STFD)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with links to previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: STFD, FIN, RAN.

The Intro:

Stay Tuned for Danger is another short game, though it owes its runtime more to the limitations of 1999 than anything else. Full of wacky, overwrought characters and hilariously over-the-top threats, puzzles, and ‘incidents’, STFD isn’t a smart game, but it’s a mildly fun one, and definitely improves as the second in a series.

STFD relies heavily on constantly rising action, meaning that things never calm down — the game escalates and escalates until it’s over, which encourages the player to finish the whole thing in as few parts as possible to get the full effect.

It does have its problems — way too many things to click on that are pointless, an obvious villain, frustrating and out-of-place puzzles, and the clunkiest interface known to man, but it saves itself from the scrap heap by embracing, rather than avoiding, its own campiness.

The Title:

Funnily enough, this title is actually straight-up ace. It’s a snappy take on soap opera clichés, and is the only game to have a four-letter abbreviation, lest we take Nancy into the world of sexually transmitted diseases.

Er…considering how Rick looks, make that further into the world of sexually transmitted diseases.

Plus, this game puts a heavy emphasis on the continually rising action of its events, so the “stay tuned” part works really, really well. A+ work here.

The Mystery:

Fresh off of the success of finding a killer in Miami, Aunt Eloise once again hears of trouble and sends Nancy Drew barking after it. This time, it’s off to New York to investigate some death threats that a soap opera star is being sent.

Hold the presses, I know.

With everyone working as hard as they can to be unhelpful, it’s up to Nancy to massively invade everyone’s privacy and discover who’s writing the threats (and making the bombs, and dropping the lights, and…) before Rick Arlen actually gets seriously hurt or killed.

Through a lot of snooping, after-hours sneaking, and clunky interrogations, Nancy manages to “figure out” the culprit when he presents himself at the end despite 90% of clues pointing to him, has to solve a puzzle in the nick of time, and treats the audience to a hilarious-looking “capture” of the culprit.

The Suspects:

Mattie Jensen is the one renting Aunt Eloise’s apartment, and the person Nancy first encounters. Not only is she the (co-) star of the show, but she’s also the only one who stuck with her original agent, Dwayne Powers. 

Her mother is too involved in her life, she moves like a plasticine doll, and is a Horrible judge of character, employing Dwayne Powers and having dated Rick Arlen, but Mattie seems genuinely concerned for Rick’s life, asking Nancy to help by snooping around, and offering her aid to the amateur detective.

Mattie’s not short on motive, having been dumped by Rick and having her career endangered by his anticipated contract-breaking in order to get into films and out of soaps, but she’s not really a “suspect” once you’re 1/3 of the way through the game.

This is one of Her Interactive’s favorite tropes — a suspect cleared early on so that Nancy can have a helper — and it shows up for the first time here. In this case, Mattie helps Nancy go undercover as a budding young actress in order to help her investigate more fully.

Rick Arlen is the other co-star of the soap opera (“Light of Our Love”), playing the male main lead. Tired of the small soap opera notoriety he has right now, Rick longs for the big screen, leading him to try to break his contract with Bill Pappas and leave the show.

Rick is a blowhard egomaniac who’s willing to flirt with any woman he sees — even the young amateur detective Nancy Drew — but that’s pretty much all the depth that he has. He dates a lot, but he’s too shallow to keep any relationship for long, either dumping them (Mattie) or being dumped (Lillian).

There might be a moment or two where you think he might be behind his threatening notes to give him an unimpeachable reason to leave…but then you remember that this is Rick Arlen, and he has No Shame, and doesn’t see anything wrong with breaking his contract.

He does send the first few notes, signing them with an anagram of his name (which somehow Her thought was brilliant enough to use twice in one game), but that’s it as far as his involvement goes — he’s not a man with a death wish; he’s an egomaniac. Pure and simple.

The only other thing about him in the game is that he ditched Dwayne for a better agent, which is treated as, like, the Height of Disloyalty. However, knowing that Dwayne is balls-to-the-wall nuts, not a great agent, and hates Rick for dating Mattie….I’d switch to a new agent as well. Sure, it’s not super kind, but it’s not at all an immoralmove to make, and it’s the best thing he could do if he wants an actual enduring career in showbiz.

Dwayne Powersis Mattie’s agent, Rick’s ex-agent, and all around bleeding psychopath with delusions of grandeur. He’s also one of the most obvious villains in the whole series (tying with…well, RAN), blames Rick for his failing business (when the truth is that he’s just not very good at it and has stopped trying at this point), and casts his Cool Alter-Ego Owen W. Spayder as his crimesona.

Dwayne isn’t diagnosably medically insane like the culprit in FIN, but he’s crazy all the same, from his Loud Speeches about hating Rick, to his skulking around the set in a hat and beard, to his ridiculous bombs and light-droppings, etc. etc.

He’s upset that he couldn’t make it as an actor himself, and resigned himself to helping others with their natural talents. Not only does he let this turn him into an attempted murderer, but he also gives this Huge Speech at the end…which lets us see, yeah, he wouldn’t have made it as an actor (and as if RAN needed to reinforce that point, it does anyway).

Dwayne is interesting in that he’s the only suspect to escape twice and the only villain to be the villain in two games, but…quite frankly, he’s not interesting enough to deserve those distinguishing characteristics. Dwayne isn’t enough to carry one game, let alone two, and it shows.

Lillian Weiss is the snappish, cold director of “Light of Our Love”, who is suspicious of everyone and has the clout of being one of the only characters who can fire Nancy without it resulting in a second chance.

She also happens to be the smartest and most likable character in the game (except for Bill Pappas, of course), willing to accept when she’s been wrong and call Nancy to come back in, who figures out who’s pulling these “pranks” around the set, and poured a pitcher of water on Rick’s head while dumping him. 

She also sent him poisoned chocolates which, knowing the guy, I fully condone. She gets to live out Rick’s dream by going to Hollywood, so that’s nice and karmic as well.

Lillian isn’t ever really nice to you, nor does she lose her snappiness, but she is a good guy, and she’s allowed to be smart and capable without being warm and fuzzy, and I personally think that makes her more multi-faceted than most early ND characters were allowed to be.

Millie Strathorn is the elderly owner and founder of WWB and prop master for “Light of Our Love”. She’s also not quite sane, mixing fantasy and reality at any given moment.

Her “motivation” is that she hates Rick and tries to keep submitting scripts to write him out of the show, and this show apparently doesn’t have a Writer (we’ve got a producer, director, and two stars + talent agent, but no writer?), but her scripts keep being rejected anyway. 

Probably because, once again, she mixes fantasy and reality, and definitely wrote a scene where Rick Arlen and “Rory Danner” face off and mud-wrestle, stabbing each other in the face.

Either that or a ménage àtrois between Rick, Rory, and Yuri (Rory’s “evil twin” in the show”. Which would be Very Tricky to shoot with 1999 technology.

Anyway, Millie makes you solve a few middling riddles and then pretty much effs off for the rest of the game, making her a crazy memorable (not to mention straight-up crazy) character despite her lack of screen time (and overall pointlessness).

William Pappas is the never-seen yet always entertaining producer of “Light of Our Love”, who is super pissed about Rick trying to break his contract is “Light of Our Love” and says that he’ll kill Rick before he let him walk out on him. This threat, of course, is just Bill venting, and after Nancy defuses the bomb in Rick’s dressing room, Bill is more than happy to help her out.

As a suspect, Bill sucks, wholly and completely — to the point where he’s just not a suspect. As a character, however, he is a Delight and a Treasure, bursting with pointless personality. I aspire to be Bill Pappas.

Ralph Guardino is the twice-seen security guard at WWB who gives you access to the building, then promptly effs off until he appears to arrest Dwayne at the end. And yes, his name is just “Guard” with “-ino” added at the end. I guess Her used up all their imagination on weird and wonderful pictures to photoshop their characters into.

Ralph, like Bill, isn’t really a suspect at all; he exists because the story needed a job done, so they created a character to do it. He’s also Bill’s cousin, so there’s some added “meaning” that’s actually pointless as well. There’s nothing offensive about Ralph, per se, but there’s nothing good about him either. He’s just kind of…there.

The Favorites:

The general soapy tone of this game makes it fun, and Dwayne’s villain reveal/speech is only matched in its dramatic campiness by…well, his speech in RAN.

Bill Pappas is my Hero and I wish he’d gotten more screen time (though I love that we never see him), and Nancy’s delivery of “Prop Master of DEATH” alone is worth the price of admission.

The Un-Favorites:

First off, the fact that they forgot to put in the desk key really bothers me. I know that the only stuff in there are fake fan letters to Rick from Mattie, encouraging him to stay (which doesn’t point to guilt at all, and so is pretty pointless), but like…it’s locked. It must be important.

I know Her Interactive wanted to advertise their 100+ “close up shots”, but it drags the game down to look at everything — especially since hidden in those 100+ are 5-10 that are Super Tiny and that you have to click on, even if they don’t tell you anything new, or you’ll get stuck and be unable to progress.

Nancy’s inability to see Dwayne as the villain even when it’s patently obvious is a pretty serious knock against this game. Neither Bill nor Ralph are considered actual suspects, Mattie is cleared early on, Lillian is too snappish with you (too obvious, to Her Interactive’s way of thinking) to be it, and Millie is too old to do the physical stuff (and, with her wanting Rick’s character killed off, is also too obvious) and so as early as 1/3 into the game you’re left with Dwayne and Rick. As Rick needs himself to live so he can go on to Star in Movies, you’re just left with Dwayne, who all the clues point to anyway.

The Fix:

Fixing STFD would require totally re-coding it to fix sound and playability issues on newer computers, updating the graphics, fixing characters so that they don’t look like blow-up dolls…all those Quality of Life improvements are super important and vital to a fix.

But fixing it would also require some re-writing. I realize that Millie is in the game as a nod to the original writer of Nancy Drew, and it’s…well, definitely an homage, if not a good homage, but taking her out would go a long way to streamlining the game.

There are simply too many culprits for Her Interactive’s general ability to write multiple fleshed-out characters who are all plausible suspects (especially with Nik being gone), and so the result is that the incidents, character traits, and character appearances are spread too thin for anything but blatant caricature. Millie is simply the easiest character to remove, along with Bill Pappas and Ralph (who only appears twice anyway).

You could fold Millie into Lillian without too much trouble, get rid of Bill (though it breaks my heart to say it), have Ralph’s name appear early but have him only appear at the end to arrest Dwayne, and it would lighten the load that the story breaks under considerably. I don’t think this would make it an A+ story, but it would at least be less cluttered, and STFD is cluttered enough without needing extra help.