#indoor pool parties long island

[therosebud]

Welcome to Sims 4 Romance Reef Challenge!

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If you struggle to stay focused on legacy challenges or any grind-heavy tasks, this challenge is perfect for you. The aim here is to create drama and have fun!

This challenge is inspired by the TV show “Love Island” but with a twist and you do not have to have seen Love Island to enjoy this challenge. However, if you're curious, I recommend watching the Australian or UK versions, as they tend to be funnier and more unfiltered than the American one.

Thank you to the EA Creator Network for giving me early access to create content for you.

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Download the Notion Template on My Patreon

I've created a Patreon for those interested in downloading the Notion template to keep track of all your islanders and progress. Notion is an online organization tool with a Pinterest-like aesthetic. My template provides a layout of the rules and space to detail each Islander. It's not necessary, but it's here if you want it.

For fans of my throwback save file, I will also be re-uploading the save there as it’s more reliable than Sims Share. Thank you for your support over the years on my YouTube channel and other socials. I hope you all enjoy the challenge!

Villa Video Update: If you aren't a builder Don't worry because I will update this post when I upload my speed build of my own villa for you to use. In that video I will also talk about the challenge rules. In the meantime, feel free to build your own or use the gallery to update a villa.

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Initial Islanders: 4 female Sims and 4 male Sims ready to be placed in the villa. They can have any traits, likes, dislikes, turn-ons, and turn-offs, but no skills to keep it fair.

Bombshells: An extra 2 to 4 female Sims and 2 to 4 male Sims in a separate household. These "bombshells" are ready to join and shake things up when needed. They can have traits, likes, dislikes, turn-ons, and turn-offs, but no skills to keep it fair.

Optional Extra:

💡If you want to be extra, you can register all of them with the labor union and use that space to write out a bio for each Sim, but it isn’t necessary.

💡 If you really want to shake things up you could make each sim have a distinct style. For example, one can be cottagecore, sporty, old money, alternative, beachy, urban, witchy, academia, Barbie, outdoorsy, etc. Here’s a list for ideas.

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Bedroom: One large bedroom with 4 double beds for couples. (And a couple extra single beds if someone gets left out.)

Bathrooms: Multiple shower and bathroom stalls upstairs and additional bathrooms near the gym and pool.

Upper Balcony: Equipped with sun loungers and couches.

Kitchen and Sitting Area: Spacious kitchen and indoor sitting area.

Sundeck: Features a large couch and firepit for eliminations and coupling ceremonies.

Outdoor Kitchen: Includes a barbecue and large bar area.

Dance Floor: Designated area for dancing.

Gym and Yoga Area: Semi-outdoor/indoor setup for exercise and yoga.

Swimming Pool: Large pool area.

Hot Tub or Onsen: Relaxation area with a hot tub or onsen.

Skill Challenge Room: Empty space like a basement to host skill challenges.

Buffet Tables and Drink Trays: Available for parties and events.

Victor Suite: Locked except when won by a gameplay challenge winner. Includes high-end objects like a computer (the only one in the house), spa massage table, fancy tub, and bed.

Secluded Date Area: Gated area to control access for private dates.

Iconic Pathway: Long pathway for eviction ceremonies.

Extras: Poohoo bush, closets, woohoo blankets, and optionally a photo booth for added fun.

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You don’t have to play with mods, these are my recommendations.

UI Cheats: Allows you to view exact relationship points by clicking the "set relationship" button under each sim's romantic relationships.

First Impressions Mod: Provides detailed explanations of sims' initial impressions.

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Weather Settings: Turn off rain, thunderstorms, snow, and blizzards in the game menu. Set seasons to the longest possible duration. Start the game in summer for a Love Island vibe.

Aging: Pause aging to preserve the contestants' ages for post-challenge play.

Free Will: Keep free will turned on to allow sims autonomy in their actions. Micro-manage only for needs; let them pretty much choose their interactions, friendships, and rivalries. The exception of the rule is if you are trying to get everyone in one area to start a gameplay challenge. But make sure you turn it back on after everyone is on their gameplay station. I recommend giving them a few hours to complete the challenge depending on what it is of course. Keep track of the order of who finishes (or stopped) the quickest.

World's: I recommend playing in Sulani or Tartosa for this challenge but the new world Ciudad Emamorada would work too (beware the villa would have to be smaller in that world though.) However, feel free to do this in any world you want but it’s best to play it in the summer season.

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Utilize the in-game calendar system to structure your Love Island challenge. Each round typically spans 4-7 days, depending on your desired pace. Here are the key daily events to plan for:

Private Date Day: Select two or three couples to enjoy a private date in a special area of the villa or off-lot.

Gameplay Challenge Day: Determine the strongest and weakest islanders through skill challenges or quality assessments. The islander with the lowest quality item or skill percentage within a time limit of around 2- 4 in game hours, will risk elimination if they lack significant relationships.

Chaos Spin Day: Introduce random events to stir up drama and unpredictability among the contestants.

Coupling and Elimination Day: Held in the evening on the last day of each round. Contestants dress in formal or party wear for the ceremony. After the first elimination, the gender with numerical advantage chooses their partner first. Those without partners face elimination. Re-coupling may occur if islanders form closer bonds during the round.

"Bombshells": Introduce 4-8 additional sims (evenly split by gender) sporadically in each round to shake up dynamics. Morning of the date day in each round is ideal for their arrival, allowing them to participate in that day’s events.

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On the first day, your goal is to have everyone meet and interact in the villa. Here’s how to get started:

Equal Numbers: Begin with an even number of males and females to form 4 couples in total.

Numbering Sims: Number each sim from 1-8 for easy reference during wheel spins.

Lovestruck Expansion: If you have the Lovestruck expansion, observe the sentiments and dynamics as the islanders interact. Pair up those with stronger connections.

Initial Dates: Start the day with a few different dates. Roll for the number of current islanders to determine who goes on dates. If a new islander or “bombshell” is entering, they will get the date. Choose their date based on sentiments, attraction, and relationship levels.

Natural Relationships: Let relationships develop naturally. Avoid interfering, but you can offer slight encouragement if you notice two sims flirting. The challenge’s fun lies in the organic unfolding of relationships.

⭐️ Keep the first day focused on introductions and initial connections to set the stage for the rest of the challenge!

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Setting Up Private Dates

Use a number roller from 1-8 (or the current number of islanders). The chosen number gets to pick their date based on:

- Attraction system

- In-game sentiments/dynamics

- First interaction

Date Execution:

Unlock the gate for the couple to access the private date area, or teleport them in.

Bombshells:

When a new bombshell arrives, they get 1-2 dates to decide who they want to couple up with.

Limit the total number of dates to 3 per day. For example, a bombshell can have up to two dates, and you can still have one date among current islanders.

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Suggested Skills for Challenges:

- Candle Making

- Cooking

- Painting

- Cross Stitching

- Gemology

- Knitting

- Woodworking

- Flower Arranging

- Media Production

- Mixology

- Nectar Making

- Fitness

- Yoga

- Rock Climbing

- Fishing

- Guitar

- Violin

- Pipe organ

- Juice fizzing

Here’s a list to spin for skill competitions

Challenge Outcomes:

- Winner: The islander with the best quality item, highest skill, timed score (depending on the skill chosen or combo of those) wins a night in the victor suite. They can invite their partner or someone else for added drama. If an unpartnered sim wins, they get a chance to invite someone and potentially steal a partner.

- Loser: The islander with the lowest quality item or skill point is at risk of leaving if they don't form significant relationships by the coupling ceremony. If it comes down to two sims, the one who lost the challenge leaves.

Tips:

☑️ Place skill-related items around the house or in a special skill room to allow sims to use them autonomously. This ensures fairness when spinning for the next challenge.

☑️ Don’t force sims to gain skills; let them choose to do so on their own. Any skill points they gain is all fair game for when it’s time for a gameplay challenge.

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This day is just to keep you on your toes. The randomness will make your experience more customized and help you determine who is good with whom. I numbered these so you can use a number randomizer to determine which one you get for today.

⭐️ You do not have to read all 45 of them right now if you don’t want to. You may skip to the elimination section.

1. Use a number randomizer to determine which girls are getting into a fight today.

2. Use a number randomizer to determine which boys are going to fight today.

3. The couple with the lowest romance is fighting today.

4. The couple with the highest romance is fighting today.

5. Someone in the couple with the lowest romance is getting cheated on today.

6. Someone in the couple with the highest romance is getting cheated on today.

7. An old villager comes back for a day to cause some drama among a couple.

8. Get some activity tables; we’re doing a group puzzle.

9. Everyone gets on the yoga mats for a yoga class.

10. Throw a party of your choice; this can include villagers who have been voted out.

11. An islander of choice must get close with another islander outside their couple.

12. A massage therapist is hired for everyone today.

13. We get a slip and slide for today.

14. We get a couple of bowling alleys for today.

15. Tanning and beach combing day (if you are in Sulani or Tartosa).

16. Use a number randomizer (1-8) to give a sim 1+ skill points for free to use in the next challenge day.

17. Use a randomizer to determine who’s being messy today and woohooing with two different sims.

18. A couple of choice gets a date alone today; a couple with the lowest romance gets a chance to work on their relationship via a date alone.

19. A couple with the highest romance gets a date alone today.

20. Everyone plays a game of basketball.

21. Everyone has to skill up one point, but they each have to do a different skill from one another (and, of course, skills used for competitions).

22. The losers and winners of the last gameplay challenge day go head-to-head in a redo of the competition.

23. A new bromance occurs today.

24. It’s just me and the girls. Two girls get to be friends today.

25. A friendship occurs between a male and female who aren’t attracted to each other.

26. Everyone makes a friendship bracelet.

27. Throw a house party.

28. Throw a dance party.

29. Throw a pool party.

30. A sudden death occurs. You must kill off a sim; roll from 1-8 to determine who dies.

31. An engagement?! Roll 1-8 to see who’s getting engaged with their current coupled-up partner.

32. Tanning! Everyone just works on their tan today. (Maybe an enemy sabotages someone’s tan.)

33. Get a photo studio; let’s take some pictures for the house.

34. Everyone plays a card game.

35. We take everyone to another lot.

36. Take all of the girls to another lot.

37. Take all of the boys to another lot.

38. A double elimination occurs. The two people with the lowest gameplay challenge score go home.

39. They’re back! A female player that was voted out comes back for the next round.

40. They’re back! A male player that was voted out comes back for the next round.

41. Drama! Three islanders go on a date together in hopes of two coupling up.

42. Use the woohoo blanket.

43. Everyone plays darts or foosball.

44. Use a number randomizer to determine who’s getting a secret lover on Cupid’s corner outside of the household.

45. Throw a costume party and have everyone wear a random outfit from the costume trunk.

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The first elimination is based purely on the islander who loses the initial challenge, because not everyone might of made a romantic connection yet.

All other eliminations will be based on who has the lowest relationship(s) and ranking in gameplay challenge.

Set up challenge stations in a large room, like a basement.

Randomize the gameplay challenges for a fun and unpredictable experience. Choose skills that produce items with a quality rating or judge by the highest skill points achieved in a set time.

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Observing Interactions:

Pay attention to Sims naturally interacting, especially if they're already coupled but start talking or flirting with others.

If two Sims start being flirty around each other alone often, you can nudge the relationship by having them flirt once or twice to see if they will keep it going.

Recoupling:

A Sim might choose to recouple if their bond with another Sim grows stronger.

In a love triangle, the Sim that has the least connections (romantic and friend wise) and ranked the lowest among in the gameplay challenges, is the one that will be eliminated.

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Let Cheating Happen: If a Sim cheats, let it play out naturally. Don't intervene in saving Sims if they die; it's part of the challenge. Butlers or maids can be hired to manage the cleaning.

No Careers at the start: None of the Sims should have a career initially. However, you can write them a bio if desired.

Adapt as Needed: If you don’t have a certain pack for a skill or activity, replace it with something you do have.

Managing Needs: Assign a bedtime to ensure needs are met. In the morning, control them to shower and eat. The first Sim up makes breakfast unless you have a hired butler or maid.

Encourage Flirting: It's okay to make Sims flirt or chat generally whenever you like, but for new romances, only initiate flirting once or twice to get things started. Do this only if you notice Sims getting flirty around each other often, as Sims usually won't start a romance autonomously without a mod. After that, don't intervene. If the romance doesn't progress, it wasn't meant to be. Follow their social cues and wants to let you know who they like.

Unlimited Funds: This challenge isn’t about money, so feel free to use the "rosebud" cheat as much as you like. 😉

Rewards: The winners could win the villa and you can renovate it in their style. Alternatively, use them in another challenge.

Questions and Feedback: If you need any clarifications, feel free to ask. If you try out this challenge, tag me! Use the #ts4romanticreef

Sul sul! 🌹

YouTube, Pateron and other socials

[fatherfigurefusion]

Okay, so I have this alternate death order for SDR2, featuring differing motives and story beats.

(Warning: This would get particularly long.

Prologue: Goes exactly the same way as canon. Monomi sends the protagonist Hajime Hinata and his class on a magical journey to Jabberwock Island. After waking up on the island, Hajime introduces himself to his classmates. After the introductions, Monokuma hijacks the trip and starts up the killing game.

Chapter 1: As much as they wanted to prevent a murder from happening (in spite of the First Blood Perk motive Monokuma gave them), the students found the dead body of Nekomaru Nidai, who appears to have been struck in the back of his head with a poisonous dart. In spite of his loud and eccentric attitude, mostly everyone mourned the loss of the primary leader figure, with Hajime and Mahiru quickly deciding to step up as leader figures, in Nekomaru's stead.

After having their first ever class trial, Hajime successfully deduced who the culprit behind Nekomaru's murder was. It turned out to have been Kazuichi Souda. Upon learning about the existence of a mastermind behind the whole thing, the mechanic was quick to distrust and turn on the rest of his class. In an attempt to weed out the mastermind, Kazuichi built a trap that would kill, or at least, temporarily stun the mastermind, which ended up being a failed endeavor, when it hit the innocent Nekomaru, and went past the time limit. Upon finding out what he did, Kazuichi quickly dismantled the trap and tried his best to cover his tracks, but failed, and ended up getting dragged kicking and screaming to his execution.

Chapter 2: This time around, Monokuma offered up a brand-new motive: releasing hallucinogenic gas around the island that causes others to hallucinate their worst fears. Upon hearing the motive, Hajime and Mahiru ordered everyone to stay indoors, not wanted paranoia to drive someone else to murder. However, one day the hallucinogens worn off, which could only mean somebody died. And much to everyone's dismay, Mikan Tsumiki's battered and bruised corpse was found floating in the pool area. Without Mikan around to give out a reliable autopsy, the two leader figures (and Byakuya, surprisingly enough) opted to take responsibility for the investigation.

Due to the hallucinogenic gas casting doubt on everybody's alibi's, the trial was noticeably long. However, after reviewing all the alibis and matching it with the evidence regarding Mikan's body, suspicion quickly fell on Akane Owari, who has no memories of ever meeting with, let alone killing, Mikan. However, all the evidence lined up, and the gymnast was correctly deemed Mikan's murderer. Disregarding Mahiru and Hajime's warning to go exercise (and mourn Nekomaru's death), Akane quickly succumbed to the hallucinogenic gas. At the same time, Mikan was being tormented by her many phobias, and, without knowing at the time, attempted to attack Akane. The gymnast quickly fought back, resulted in Mikan falling and drowning in the pool. Much like with Kazuichi before her, Akane was eventually dragged off to be executed. But not before regaining her confidence, and trying to go out with her signature confident smile, just as her coach said.

Chapter 3: After Monokuma gave each of the students slips containing another student's deepest darkest secrets, Teruteru decided to organize a party catered by him, in order to get everybody's minds off the motives. However, just before the party began, Mahiru Koizumi was found dead in the beach house (with the murder case being a lot like the OG Chapter 2), with slash and stab wounds all over her torso. Since Hajime's primary crime-investigating partner was found dead, Byakuya became the new holder of that role. And for some puzzling reason, Hajime started to feel dizzy and nauseous.

Upon exchanging secrets in the trial, the hidden history between Fuyuhiko, Peko, and Mahiru quickly became exposed. Because of that, suspicion and distrust promptly fell on the yakuza boss and his bodyguard. Eventually, it was confirmed that Peko caused several of the slash wounds on Mahiru, seemingly confirming her to be the culprit. However, while Peko caused a good majority of Mahiru's wounds, someone else dealt the finishing blow on the photographer: Hiyoko Saionji. Upon waking up and seeing her big sister figure attacked by the swordswoman, Hiyoko grabbed a sword to try and ward Peko off. However, she accidentally drove the sword into Mahiru, causing the photographer's death.

Throughout the trial, Hajime's dizziness and nausea have only gotten worse, as he starts to fade in and out of consciousness. As it turns out, just before he found Mahiru's body, Hajime was poisoned by a tampered drink. And that drink was tampered by none other than Nagito Komaeda. As it turns out, Nagito got Hajime's secret: that he isn't even an Ultimate student, but rather a mere member of the reserve course. It was also during this trial that Nagito's messed-up world view regarding Ultimates and non-Ultimates becomes apparent to everybody here, after spending the previous two trials putting up an affable facade. While the remaining people tried to help, Hajime Hinata unfortunately became the second victim of this chapter. Unfortunately, due to the rules of the killing game, only Hiyoko gets executed for her actions. By the end of the trial, the students' trust in Fuyuhiko, Peko, and Nagito quickly became eroded.

(From this point on, the story gets told through the perspective of the now-unmasked Ultimate Imposter.)

Chapter 4: For the sake of everyone's safety, Imposter quickly told the remaining members to restrain the clearly-unstable Nagito, and Teruteru volunteered to feed the restrained lucky student. At this point, Monokuma locked everybody in the new funhouse on the island, depriving them of food in the process, as a part of the new motive. However, an explosion blew a hole into the walls of the funhouse (and set the surrounding area on fire, resulting in the remaining students needed to evacuate the area), and in the midst of that explosion, lies the charred body of Ibuki Mioda. Although they tried their best to push past their grief, Imposter was saddened by the loss of one of the few people they could consider a friend.

And that grief would only increase, they found out the true culprit of this case, someone else that the Imposter considers a friend: Teruteru Hanamura. After the events of the previous three chapters, Teruteru's constant denial of the events in question quickly started to break down. Until one day, he simply couldn't endure the pain any longer, and tried to end it all, via putting explosives into the oven. However, Ibuki caught the chef in the middle of the deed, and successfully managed to talk him out of performing it. Unfortunately for the musician, she only had time to hear the ring of an egg timer, before the entire kitchen exploded. By the end of the trial, Imposter had to say goodbye to another one of his valued allies.

Chapter 5: Plays out more or less like the canon Chapter 5, with Nagito Komaeda coming up with an elaborate scheme to root out the mole amongst the Remnants of Despair, via tricking the mole into killing him. However, the identity of that mole (as well as the person who accidentally delivered the finishing blow on the lucky student) turned out to be a different girl: Sonia Nevermind. Although people grieved the inevitable depature of the kindhearted princess (especially Gundham), Sonia inspired everybody to push on with all the hope they can muster in their heart.

From there, the final chapter plays out exactly like canon, except the Imposter now gets the Ultimate Hope title.

The following individuals survived and made it back to the outside world:

Ultimate Imposter

Chiaki Nanami

Gundham Tanaka

Peko Pekoyama

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

[webberestates]

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[outdoor-fireplace-kitchen]

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[jenniferhollowellrealtor-blog]

6105 Ingold Rd, Whitsett, NC 27377 | Home for Sale

Experience the best of privacy, comfort and space when you buy this ranch style home!

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The first thing you’ll notice is the cozy great room centered around a unique double-sided fireplace. Add in a few tastefully selected furniture and this will soon be everyone’s favorite place to hangout.

Preparing delectable meals come easy in this modern kitchen

On the left side of the great room is a sophisticated gourmet kitchen. It’s perfectly illuminated, with natural light coming from multiple windows and state-of-the-art pendant lighting just above the large granite kitchen island.

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A dining room that brings family and friends closer

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[azrielsbxtch]

GWYNRIEL FIC : THE CRUSH

MODERN AU - In which Gwyn moves into a new apartment and a certain someone comes to help her unpack.]

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

“I am so sorry-”

“Nesta,stop apologizing”

“You know I would fly to you if I could”

“Despite your lack of wings and the bad weather that caused your flight to get canceled?” Gwyn said smiling.

“Definitely. I’m going back to the hotel now but I’ll see you tomorrow okay.”

“Okay”

“Congratulations on your new apartment!”

“Thank you” Gwyn replied smiling.

“Bye”

Gwyn cut the call and surveyed the mess before her. Heaps and heaps of labeled boxes,suitcases and furniture stared back at her. She’d just moved into her first apartment. Nesta and Emerie were supposed to help her unpack but Emerie had a family emergency and Nesta flew to Cesere for a diplomatic meeting and a blizzard had hit before her flight could take off.

Gwyn could already feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones and she hadn’t even started unpacking yet. She looked around the well lit apartment. When she told Cassian and Nesta she was moving out,they’d helped her tour the best buildings in Velaris and she fell in love with this one.

60 stories high, Dune was a new building on the coast of the Sidra. It had various amenities including a gym,indoor pool,archery center and coveted restaurant. If you weren’t a resident you had to wait on a list 3 months long to get a reservation. But the highlight of the building was it’s highly exclusive apartments where she now lived on the 51st floor. Gwyn knew she wouldn’t have been able to snag it without the help of her friends and for that she was eternally grateful. Even though they’d left her high and dry to unpack alone.

She headed to the open plan kitchen and began unpacking the boxes there. She was in the middle of stacking plates when her door bell rang.

That was weird.

Her friends weren’t around and she hadn’t met the neighbors yet. She dropped the plate she was holding and went to the door. On the screen beside it ,she saw a familiar set of shoulders. His head was taller than the camera so she could only see his chest and the swirling shadows around him.

She couldn’t help the smile on her face as she opened the door and leaned against it.

“How did you get in Az? I haven’t even given an approved list of visitors to the doorman”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I have my ways”

She opened the door wider to let him in and noticed he was carrying bags of food.

“I brought takeout to celebrate”

She waved a hand at the mess on the floor. “Not really ready for a housewarming party”

“That’s okay. Let’s eat and I’ll help you unpack”

“You’re a lifesaver. How did you know I needed help?”

“Nesta called Cassian about her flight and I knew she was supposed to help so….here I am”

Here he was indeed. He looked so good in black sweats,dark T shirt and a black cap rested backwards on his head.

He carried the food to the massive kitchen island and began to pull things out.

Sandwiches,fries,tacos,salad,smoothies,sushi…

“Did you buy everything off the menu?”

“I didn’t know what you wanted to eat”

“You could’ve called”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise” he said grinning.

Gwyn rolled her eyes and took a strawberry smoothie.

“I needed this” she sighed after taking a sip.

He took the salad and passed her the tacos and they dived into their food.

“What are you going to do with the other rooms?” He asked.

“I’m going to turn the second into a library and the third into…I don’t know. Maybe a guest room”

He was about to reply when his phone chimed with a text. Gwyn looked down at it and saw “Vanessa” and next to that “31 unread messages”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you ignoring your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend and I ended things tonight”

Gwyn’s food got stuck in her throat as she started coughing.

“Are you okay?” He asked alarmed

“Fine” she croaked. “Do we have any water here?”

He brought out a bottle from the bags and handed it to her. She took it thankfully.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Food went the wrong way” One of his shadows lingered by her head protectively. As if it was guarding her and it took it’s job very seriously.

When her throat didn’t feel like it was on fire anymore she said “So……you broke up?”

“Does it classify as a break up if we weren’t dating in the first place?”

This was bad. Very very bad.

Gwyn had had a crush on Azriel since he began training them in the House of Wind and when they still lived together. She hadn’t dared to do anything about it and the only people that knew were Nesta and Emerie.

Depsite that,her and Azriel became very close friends. At one point,It was like they couldn’t stay away from each other. Then Azriel moved out and it had gotten easier. Then he started dating or sleeping with Vanessa as he claimed and it had gotten even easier.

Vanessa was her buffer. Whenever Azriel would invite her to dinner or to watch a movie she’d politely decline and give a random excuse as to why Vanessa wouldn’t like it. Azriel would argue of course but she would just tell him he didn’t understand women. But now….now she had no excuse as to why she couldn’t hang out with her friend anymore.

When she opened the door and saw him earlier she was fine.

He was still dating Vanessa.

He was still off limits.

But now…

Holy shit she was confined in a space with her very hot best friend who was now very single.

Gwyn groaned and stood up abruptly.

Azriel looked up. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird. And not normal weird”

“I’m not being wierd”

She was being very wierd she knew that.

“I have to go to the bathroom” she blurted out and ran off.

Azriel shook his head and continued with his salad.

——————————————————————————————

“It’s fine. You’re fine. He’s just a normal guy with stupid soft hair and hot tattoos and looks really good in a dark T shirt. You’re fine”

Gwyn repeated the mantra to her reflection as if it would magically make her feelings go away. She took a deep breath,washed her hands just so she’d have something to do and bravely went back into the kitchen.

Azriel was done eating and was unpacking the rest of the kitchen boxes. She packed the rest the food into the fridge and said “I’ll start with the bedroom”

He nodded and continued organizing.

An hour later he knocked on the open door of her bedroom holding a box labeled bedroom.

“You forgot this and look what I found”

He held up a stuffed Pegasus and Gwyn groaned into her palms. He used to tease her incessantly over her obsession with Pegasi. And when he found out she had a stuffed Pegasus named Sir BeanBlossom,he’d been unbearable.

“Give it back Az”

“Come and get it” he said playfully.

“I don’t have time for this Azriel give it back”

“You sound serious. Am I supposed to be scared?”

She marched over to him and tried to grab it but he stretched it over his head. Gwyn jumped multiple times reaching for it but he just laughed harder still keeping it out of reach. She kept trying to reach for it until she realized she was basically plastered against him. His hand was holding her waist and when had she pushed him against the wall? Ugh she was supposed to be staying away.

She regretfully stepped out of his embrace and said “Az I need to finish this tonight stop distracting me”

“I’ll stop teasing you about Sir BeanBlossom when you come over to my house for dinner”

“I can’t-“

“You can’t. I know.” Then his expression turned serious and he said “Why are you avoiding me Gwyn?”

“What? I - I’m not avoiding-“

“Yes. You are. You always used Vanessa as an excuse. I took care of that and you still refuse to be around me”

“Wait you took care of that? What does that mean?”

He remained silent.

“Azriel please tell me you didn’t break up with your girlfriend because of me!”

“For the millionth time she wasn’t my girlfriend “

“That doesn’t answer my question”

“You kept using her as an excuse to stay away from me. My relationship with her wasn’t worth letting you go”

Gwyn laughed shakily and shoved a hand into her hair.

“You’re unbelievable” she muttered

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Is that why you came tonight? To interrogate me?”

“Answer the question”

“I don’t know what you want me to say”

He drifted closer until there was no space between them. Gwyn’s heart beat against her chest at his proximity but she stood still. Taking a step back would only prove his point.

“I have a theory….” he whispered. His hand caught a tendril of her hair and and twirled it round his finger. Gwyn’s breathing turned shaky. She was sure she was having an out of body experience. No way Azriel was this close,touching her like this. No way.

“And I’m going to test it out…”

Their eyes locked.

One moment she was lost in his eyes the next he was kissing her. Gwyn knew she would never be the same after this kiss. A part of her still refused to believe it was happening while the other part had waited years for this.

Gwyn kissed him with every bit of longing and yearning she’d felt for him over the years. She melted into him eagerly and wound her hands around his neck. Standing on the tips of her toes, she pulled him closer until they were flush against each other.It felt like the butterflies that usually lingered in her stomach whenever he was near had suddenly tripled in size. Even if she tried she couldn’t control the way her body reacted to him.

The lazy strokes of his tongue weakened her knees.

There was nothing hesitant about it. His mouth claimed hers and she was so lost in his touch,his scent that she didn’t notice when her hands slid under his chest.

Wait…

His chest?

Gwyn abruptly broke the kiss and realized that her hands had gotten a mind of her own and were currently under Azriel’s T-shirt.

She looked up at him nervously.

“Fuck” she said shakily. “Fuck Fuck Fuck”

“Gwyn-“

She fled.

—————————————————————————————-

“Come on pick up pick up”

“What” Nesta said groggily into the phone. “Gwyneth I swear you better have a good reason for waking me up this late”

“Azriel kissed me”

Silence.

“Hello? Nesta?”

An ear curling squeal tore out of the phone.

“HE KISSED YOU!!! I knew it I knew it I knew-“

“Shut up Nesta! I don’t know what to do. He came over to help me unpack and then he said he’d broken up with Vanessa and you know she was the only thing holding me back and then he came in all serious asking me why I was staying away-“

“Mmm hmm mmmm hmmm”

“And I said I wasn’t and he said some stuff I can’t remember and he kissed me!”

“I knew he was into you” Nesta said. Gwyn could bet she was smirking.

“What?”

“I’ve always suspected the only reason he dated Vanessa was to try to stay away from you. It was so obvious.”

“I ran away after”

“What?”

“I’m hiding in the guest room”

“Gwyneth!”

“I don’t know what to do okay. I just- I don’t know what to say. How to act. I don’t know if I’ve made a mistake or if I’ve ruined our friendship-“

“First of all,this on him okay. He kissed you. And that makes this even better because he feels the same way Gwyn! I’m really excited in case you couldn’t tell”

Gwyn managed a laugh. She was still shaky though.

“I don’t think I can face him tonight” she whispered.

“That’s okay.” Nesta said softly. “Take your time and do this at your own pace. As long as you’re happy”

“Okay.”

“Okay”

“Have you told Emerie?”

“No. Family emergency remember. I’ll tell her when she’s back.”

“Okay. Goodnight. I love you”

“Love you too”

——————————————————————————————

The next day,Gwyn woke up and tentatively headed out of her hiding spot. She made her way down the hallway expecting to see her unpacked boxes but the living room was empty.

What?

Did she get robbed last night?

She looked around confused until she started to notice that her things weren’t stolen. They were in their appropriate positions.

He’d finished unpacking for her.

Everything was in it’s designated space. She checked her room and everything down to her underwear was unpacked and meticulously organized. He even laid her bed.

Gwyn couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on her face.

She was about to leave the bedroom when she noticed something on the bedside table. It was a note.

I don’t regret what happened and I hope you don’t too.

PS - I took Sir BeanBlossom. I know you can’t sleep without him so consider this blackmail.

Let’s have lunch or the Pegasus gets it.

- Az

Gwyn laughed at the ending. She folded the note carefully and placed it in her bedside drawer.

Then she headed into her closet to find what to wear.

She had a Pegasus to save.

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 18

AO3

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 17

Next Chapter: Chapter 19

Thomas had always enjoyed swimming. He used to be a competitive swimmer in school, and still considered going back to it at university. He was fast and he guessed he’d need to slow down for Alastair, who was not a frequent swimmer at all. While Alastair was fast and nimble on the land, his swimming skills appeared only enough to not drown. Which arguably was the most important when it came to swimming, but Thomas had to be careful, he didn’t want to exhaust Alastair or leave him behind.

‘I don’t usually like swimming all that much,’ Alastair admitted.

‘Really? Then why did you come?’ Thomas asked.

A wicked gleam appeared in Alastair’s dark eyes and he smiled. ‘For the scenery, of course.’

Thomas guessed it was the first time they’d seen each other wearing only swim shorts, although he had seen some of Alastair’s chest after Tessa had bandaged his shoulder. The wound looked closed now, but Thomas knew it was still sensitive.

While Alastair was skinny, he was also lightly toned. Not muscular like Thomas was, but elegant and graceful. He was beautiful. He remembered Alastair telling him he’d gained weight lately because of his new medication, but if this was his body after gaining weight, just how skinny had he been before?

And although Alastair tried to act casual, Thomas caught him staring at him too. Truth to be told, he was a little insecure about his body, and what Alastair would think of it. Thomas knew he was muscular, since he worked out so much, which he knew was considered desirable, but he often felt he was a bit too tall. Not to mention he hated the stretch marks that had appeared on his back, and worried what Alastair would think of those. His mother had freaked out the first time she’d seen them until she’d realized they were stretch marks. They were a faded pink now, although they used to be a bright red like wounds. Hopefully in time they’d fade to white. Of course, after three pregnancies, his mother had them too but everyone seemed to associate stretch marks with pregnancy when it was also completely normal to get them after gaining weight or growing very fast. Thomas sometimes wished he’d known that sooner.

‘My parents would often take me and my sisters swimming when I recovered from one of my fevers,’ Thomas said.

‘In the winter as well?’ Alastair asked. ‘Isn’t that cold?’

‘At the indoor pool,’ Thomas clarified. ‘I always had lots of fun there. There were water slides, a wave simulator bath, tropical plants to create a nice atmosphere. There was this one water slide that was in the dark and Barbara was scared of it so she always claimed I was too small for the water slide and wasn’t allowed to take it either.

Often when I was sick, it was something I looked forward to because I knew I could go to the pool when I got better. When I was older and no longer sick, I started swimming competitively. Didn’t you go swimming as a child?’

‘Not often,’ Alastair said. ‘Cordelia would go with Lucie and her parents sometimes.’

‘I remember getting these invites to classmates’ birthday parties. It’s a surprise what we’re doing, but bring your swimsuit,’ Thomas said. ‘Of course, I could only go when I was well enough, but it was a very common activity at my school.’

‘I was that child who never got invited. Which was fine, I didn’t really like being around other children anyway. My mother couldn’t swim, and my father didn’t really go have fun with us. I did take swimming lessons, passed my exams, but beyond that I didn’t really go swimming. My mother started taking classes not so long ago, though, so she’s learnt the basics. She found a class for adult women and even made some friends there.’

‘Maybe you should give it a chance,’ Thomas said. ‘Unfortunately, the pool I went to as a child closed. They built a mall there, I think. but I’m sure there are other pools I could take you someday.’

‘It’s not so bad,’ Alastair admitted. ‘Maybe if we survive this summer, I’ll take you up on that offer.’

Thomas felt himself become a little warm inside, despite the cold water. Here, spending time together in the lake and in the woods was nice, but Thomas wanted to show Alastair all his favorite places, go to the museum together, go swimming like he used to do. He wanted to introduce Alastair to his sisters, who would undoubtedly like him very much. He hoped they wouldn’t be too protective of him though, Thomas did not think Alastair would react well if Genie started threatening him. He made a mental note to send a warning to his sisters that there would be no threatening Alastair.

‘Do you play any sports?’ Thomas asked.

‘Currently not much beyond generally trying to stay active and taking very long walks,’ Alastair admitted. ‘Cordelia and I used to take dance classes together for several years, Father thought it important we learnt how to dance ballroom. The memory is a bit tainted because it was something he demanded of us, but truth to be told I did like dancing and I was quite good at it. We both were.’

‘Oh, that sounds nice,’ Thomas said. ‘I’ve always thought it would be nice to learn partner dancing, but I never got around to it. Besides, I’m a bit clumsy on my feet so I’d be stepping on my partner’s toes all the time.’

‘That doesn’t happen as often as people think,’ Alastair said. ‘I think there’s a dancing association at the university, so if you want to learn that might be a nice and affordable place to take classes. But you could also join a swimming team there if you’d prefer. Or both, but you’ll need to find time to study too.’

‘Is that something you struggled with?’ Thomas asked.

‘Not really. I had no social life beyond my ex boyfriend and I don’t need much time to study. Magic memory and all. But there were definitely a few students who were partying too much to keep up.’

‘I’m not really one for partying, so that won’t be a problem,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I didn’t realize there were so many options, all I heard about student life was either lots of partying or study until you drop.’

‘Oh no there are definitely options,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m just too antisocial for most of them. I don’t like being around people anyway. One on one is fine, but I’ve never liked groups. And I absolutely despite it when people are loud. What else do you like to do beside swimming?’

Thomas could recognize what Alastair described. He had always been shy as a child, and had never really grown over that. He liked being around people, but mostly in small groups.

‘I like music,’ Thomas said. ‘I play guitar, but I really like writing my own songs.’

He’d never told anyone that. He wasn’t sure why exactly. He’d started playing the guitar after growing over his sickness. He’d tried the saxophone before that when he was younger, but his frequent fevers made it difficult to keep up. To learn an instrument you had to practice daily, and that hadn’t worked out.

He’d started playing guitar at fourteen and he’d written lots of songs, most of which he’d discarded. He never believed they were any good, and he wasn’t very good at singing. He’d practiced, of course, and he knew how to pitch his voice, but he just didn’t sound that good or interesting. He could be a decent back up vocalist, he guessed, but then he’d need to find someone to actually sing his songs.

‘Really?’ Alastair asked. ‘What kind of songs?’

‘Oh, all sorts. Ballads, sad songs mostly, I guess. Love songs too. I’ve never told anyone before. They’re not good or anything.’

He remembered he’d written a very sappy, hopeless pining song not long after meeting Alastair. He was glad there was no remaining evidence of that ever happening, it was exactly the kind of thing Eugenia would use as blackmail. Which he guessed was why he’d never told Eugenia about his songs.

They reached the island in the middle of the lake, and sat down in the shallow water, a comfortable place to rest for a bit and talk. He could tell Alastair was getting tired, swimming was very different from walking or running and Alastair wasn’t used to it. Perhaps it was hard on his shoulder too.

‘You told no one? Really? Why?’ Alastair asked.

‘As I said, they’re not any good,’ Thomas admitted. ‘And I can’t sing well.’

‘Maybe I could sing them for you,’ Alastair said. ‘Although it’s been a while since I’ve really sung.’

‘You sing?’ Thomas asked. He wondered what Alastair’s voice would sound like when he sung.

‘I used to,’ Alastair said. ‘I played the piano too, growing up, but I haven’t played in years.’

‘Why did you stop?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair sighed. ‘I couldn’t find joy in playing music anymore. In anything really. Although I did listen to music a lot, and I do sing along occasionally. But apart from that… I just couldn’t bring myself to play anymore, it hurt too much. I wanted to get back to it, but so far I haven’t found that joy.’

That sounded sad. Would Thomas’ songs be able to cheer him up? Probably not, they were terrible. He would need some good music to play or sing to get back into it, not his hopeless attempts at song writing.

‘I hope you can,’ Thomas said. ‘I can’t imagine what it’s like to not be able to enjoy the things you used to.’

‘Well, sometimes interests change,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ve had a lot of odd interests that changed. But in this case… I want to be able to feel the joy I once felt. I want to play, and sing your songs and feel like myself again.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with sharing any of his work, but if it would help Alastair then he would let him sing all of his songs.

‘Could you sing something? Now, I mean. If you want to, you don’t have to. I’m just really curious what you sound like.’

Thomas started rambling again, and Alastair silenced him by beginning to sing. The song would definitely sound better with accompanied by a guitar, but even on its own Alastair’s voice was beautiful. It was a bit lower than his speaking voice, but he seemed to have quite a range. Gentle, but firm and when he got farther into the song Thomas realized there was a lot of power behind Alastair’s voice. It was a romantic song he was singing, did this describe how Alastair felt about him? He didn’t catch everything, but some of the lyrics stuck with him.

Never opened myself this way.

Life is ours, we live it our way.

All these words I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

‘Trust I seek, and I find in you,’ Thomas repeated. ‘That sounds beautiful.’

Alastair smiled. ‘I do find trust in you. Even if it is something I still find difficult. I’m trying.’

‘What song is that?’ Thomas asked.

Alastair stared at him in shock. ‘You mean to tell me you don’t know this song? You can’t be serious.’

‘It sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t name it,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s Nothing else Matters by Metallica,’ Alastair said.

‘That does sounds familiar,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’ve never listened much to Metallica.’

‘You should, their music is very good, and it’s very melodic for a metal band. That’s what I like the most, when music is both heavy and melodic.’

‘What other music do you like?’ Thomas asked.

‘Breaking Benjamin must be one of my favorite bands. You probably haven’t heard of them, they’re not very famous. They’re probably best described as alternative metal. Very angst heavy lyrics, things I can relate to. And I like Metallica, Skillet, Three Days Grace. Within Temptation and Nightwish occasionally. What do you listen to?’

‘I like Green Day,’ Thomas said. ‘And As It Is, which you might not know because they’re not very well known, but they’re a pop punk band.’

‘I don’t know As it Is. I do know Green Day though. I’ve always liked Boulevard of Broken Dreams.’

‘Me too,’ Thomas said. ‘But 21 guns is my favorite from Green Day.’

They talked some more about music, and Thomas made a note to listen to some of Alastair’s favorite songs when they got back. He hadn’t had the time or inspiration to write songs lately, with everything happening, but he wanted to write something for Alastair. If he ever found the time in between trying not to die.

Truth to be told, Thomas found it difficult to have people worry about him so much, risk themselves for his sake. He didn’t want to die and was grateful he had people who were willing to help him, but he hated how all this was because of him. He hated being taken care of, being someone’s burden. It was something Thomas had always struggled with. When his mother had quit her job because Thomas was sick so often it wasn’t doable for both his parents to work. Since his mother was a primary school teacher, it had made sense for her to quit working as his father made more money and worked more hours. When his sisters would come straight home after school to keep him company rather than spend time with their own friends. When his father would come home early as often as he could, passing on opportunities at work.

It wasn’t just that the amount of attention could be suffocating, it was because he didn’t want to be difficult, he didn’t want other people to change their life, their habits for him. But as a sick child, he’d had no choice but to let people take care of him. Everyone had had to adapt to his sickness and even in a loving family such as his own, it wasn’t easy to have a child who was ill so often. Sometimes Thomas feared he’d taken up too much attention and had taken that away from Barbara and Eugenia.

‘You’re thinking of something,’ Alastair said. ‘Something that is bothering you.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Thomas said.

It wouldn’t be fair to complain about his childhood to Alastair. Compared to what he had been through, Thomas had wanted for nothing.

‘It’s not nothing,’ Alastair said. ‘I can tell when you tense up, when you’re thinking of something hurtful. Is it something I did?’

‘No. You didn’t do anything wrong.’ Thomas brushed his hand across Alastair’s cheek. ‘You’re perfect.’

‘Then what is it?’ Alastair looked away. ‘Look, I know how difficult it is to talk about how you feel, how vulnerable it makes you feel. But I can tell when things are bothering you, I know when people are upset. If you don’t want to share, at least tell me you’d rather not talk about it. Because people always like to pretend they’re fine but they’re not and…’

Alastair didn’t finish his sentence, he seemed upset too now. Thomas felt horrible. He didn’t want Alastair to worry, he didn’t want to hurt him. It made sense Alastair could read people well. Thomas had always been good at reading people’s body language, but Alastair had had to deal with his father’s changing moods, anticipating them had to be how he’d survived. Of course people’s bad moods were stressful for him, because Alastair had learnt he’d get hurt when other people were stressed.

Perhaps it was better to tell, that might set Alastair’s mind at ease. Even if it was difficult, even if he did not quite understand why he felt this way.

‘I was thinking about how you’re all risking your life for me, and I find that difficult. I’ve never wanted to trouble others, I’ve never wanted to be a burden. But I also know I cannot do this without help. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you or to Cordelia or Lucie because of me.’

Alastair put his hand on Thomas’ cheek, wet from the lake water.

‘I understand. But none of this is your fault, Tom, and you’re not a burden.’

‘I’ve always felt like a burden,’ Thomas said softly. ‘I always needed to be taken care of because I was sick.’

‘Is it a burden when the people caring for you love you and gladly care for you?’ Alastair asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Thomas said. ‘With James and Matthew, I was so glad to find friends, people my own age. But James’ mother and Matthew’s mother are my mother’s best friends, so we already knew each other from a young age. We were very close when I was still a child and they would come by to keep me company when I was sick. I am grateful, but they learnt I needed to be protected and when I grew over my sickness, Matthew still believed I was meek and dependent and needed to be rescued from you. James wasn’t as bad, he never noticed I liked you because he was always reading. I think the reason we drifted apart a bit is because of that. I never dared tell them how I felt about you, and I don’t think they would have reacted well. And again, I feared my feelings would make me a burden. That was less of an issue with Lucie, so I think that’s why I’m now closer to her. It was never a problem to tell her I liked you, and that’s why she was the first person I told.’

‘I didn’t realize you’d drifted apart from them. At school, it was always the three of you,’ Alastair said.

‘True, and I still care about them, I really do. But I think they’re closer to each other than to me, and that made me feel out of place at times. I still see them and spend time with them, and we text often, but not as much as we used to. But that’s fine, I think it was for the best. I still have plenty of people around me, enough friends, and we probably work better with a little more distance anyway.’

‘I didn’t realize, that’s all,’ Alastair said. ‘Sometimes change is for the best. How are James and Matthew anyway?’

‘I haven’t contacted them a lot with everything happening, and the last few days I haven’t been able to reach them. But I’m not yet sure what to say when I do call them. Do I tell them about us? Or about what’s going on? Do I tell my sisters? I do not want anyone else to come here and put themselves in danger.’

‘I have not yet decided what I will tell my mother either,’ Alastair said. ‘I did tell her I liked you, before I realized you liked me as well. But the past few days I haven’t been able to reach her, or Risa. Wait a moment, you said you couldn’t reach James and Matthew.’

‘Nor my sisters,’ Thomas said. ‘And my father said he was unable to reach uncle Gabriel. I don’t think uncle Will has had any success calling uncle Jem or your father either. Which is odd. You’d think out of all these people, at least someone would pick up a phone.’

‘Or perhaps that is part of what Tatiana is doing,’ Alastair said. ‘Isolating us so we cannot call anyone for help.’

Thomas tried to think that through. If he were in Tatiana’s shoes, he definitely wouldn’t want them to be able to contact uncle Gabriel and aunt Cecily. Nor uncle Jem, he guessed. Matthew and James were no threat to her, nor were his sisters, so he wasn’t sure why they were unable to contact them. Nor did he suspect Alastair’s mother was a threat. Perhaps it was simply easier to cut them off from everyone.

‘That makes sense,’ Thomas said. ‘But if we can’t call them, how far away from the town and the forest would we have to be if we were to reach people again?’ Thomas wasn’t so sure it would be that simple though.

‘I’m not sure,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps it’s like the land in between, except bigger. Perhaps something Tatiana did will not only cut off our ability to contact people who aren’t here, but will also prevent us from leaving.’ He paused. ‘I assumed there would be no point in leaving, because whatever is happening to you would simply follow you wherever you go. But perhaps Tatiana does need you here.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He hadn’t considered running, didn’t think there would be a point to it. How could you run from a powerful being? But perhaps Alastair had a point and he was running from Tatiana. Perhaps that powerful being would simply take Jesse back if Tatiana failed, and that would be it. The thought brought no comfort. He would never want Jesse to suffer. None of this was his fault either.

‘It makes me wonder why that being picked Jesse over me,’ Thomas said. ‘It must have liked Tatiana a lot better than my parents, and I think when Jesse died Tatiana already knew what was happening. I think she assumed I would be the one to die, and when Jesse died and I didn’t, she got mad with my father.

But wouldn’t it have made more sense to take me instead of Jesse? Since Tatiana knew more about the deal, knew about the creature, knew how to barter with it?’

Alastair grimaced. ‘No. I think that is exactly why it chose Jesse. I don’t think the thief of souls intended to keep Jesse forever. If it had taken you, your parents would have been heart broken, they would grieve you, they would have sustained a wound that would never heal. But they would not have tried to get you back, not at the cost of someone else’s life.

Tatiana, on the other hand, would do anything for her son, and seems to hate everyone else. It doesn’t matter to her that lots of people will die, souls forfeit, as long as she can have her son back. She knew what was going on, what would happen to her son. Perhaps she tried to appease it, to make sure you would be chosen and not Jesse. But that’s exactly why it chose Jesse. Because with Jesse dead, Tatiana would do anything to bring him back, and she would exchange your life for Jesse. And the thief of souls could have asked her for anything it wanted, anything else she would realistically be able to give her.’

Thomas stared at Alastair. Everything he said made perfect sense. He had been looking at this from the wrong angle, from his own perspective of someone who made decisions based on emotion, based on his love for the people around him. But the thief of souls wasn’t like that, he didn’t care for Tatiana just because she liked him better than his father did. He saw her as a tool he could use. He played a strategic game and souls were the prize.

‘Why now, though?’ Thomas asked. ‘Jesse has been dead for years. If Tatiana already knew what was happening, wouldn’t she have gotten him back sooner?’

‘I think the thief of souls must have demanded much from her,’ Alastair said. ‘He could ask for anything. Do any of you know what she’s been up to the past years?’

‘She moved away from London, left her house in a state of disrepair,’ Thomas said. ‘My grandfather was incredibly rich and Tatiana inherited lots of money, so she could afford to just move around and leave her father’s house.’

Thomas knew his father and uncle Gabriel had often wondered what to do with the money inherited from their father, money he’d earned through dark deals and exploitation. Money none of them deserved. But for uncle Gabriel and aunt Cecily the money had allowed them to hunt the supernatural, stop people like Benedict, since such line of work wasn’t exactly paid. His father had donated some of the money, but for them it had been convenient too since his illness meant he always needed someone around to take care of him.

‘Meaning, you don’t know where she’s been?’ Alastair asked. ‘I can’t imagine having so much money that you can just leave an entire house for several years without selling it. Honestly that should be illegal, considering how difficult it is for some people to even find a place to live.’

‘It was her father’s manor, had been in the family for a long time,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t think she could have even considered selling it, it was very important to Benedict. But no, we don’t know where she’s been. My father and uncle Gabriel did try to reach out to her occasionally. At the very least they called her on her birthday, but she never picked up.’

‘So these past years, maybe she had to complete other tasks first, offer him other souls, anything he could have wanted. And at some point she must have captured Grace, which I imagine made completing his requests a lot easier.’

‘How long do you think Grace has been her prisoner?’ Thomas wondered. ‘I assumed it was a recent thing, what if she’s been with Tatiana for years?’

‘No idea,’ Alastair said. ‘Perhaps capturing Grace is what finally allowed her to win enough favor to get back Jesse’s soul. Whatever he wanted from her, it must have been easier with a siren under her control. But I think there’s still more she must do to bring him back to life. Perhaps that child that drowned was part of it too.’

‘And when Jesse lives, I die,’ Thomas concluded.

Thomas had no idea how to fix this. How to survive without sacrificing Jesse. He knew Lucie and Cordelia wanted to kill the thief of souls, but they didn’t even know what it was. Their attention had to be on Grace right now, if anyone knew more of Tatiana’s plans it had to be her.

‘We’ll get Grace’ skin,’ Alastair promised. ‘Tomorrow. And when she is free, she can tell us all she knows of Tatiana. There must be so much Grace knows.’

‘Will you be alright?’ Thomas said. ‘After this morning… will you feel up to it? I can’t imagine how exhausting that must have been. It’s fine if you need more rest.’

‘I hope so, but if not I can function pretty well while tired. At some point you get used to it. I have good days and bad days. Today was not so good, you’re right that I’m still very tired from this morning. Such breakdowns are always exhausting, that is not something I’ve gotten used to. I would go to sleep early, maybe take some melatonin, but I’ll only have nightmares. And we don’t have the kind of time to wait for me to recover from this morning, I’ll have to do with how I function tomorrow morning.’

Thomas considered for a moment, turning a little red before looking Alastair in the eyes. Thomas had always found Alastair’s eyes beautiful, big and so dark it was difficult to tell apart the iris and the pupil. He’d never quite understood the way people obsessed over blue or green eyes, described as sapphires and emeralds in many of Lucie’s books. Green and blue eyes didn’t even look like that. Light eyes might be less common than brown eyes, but Thomas had always found dark brown eyes combined with dark hair like Alastair’s far more striking.

‘Maybe I could sleep over,’ Thomas suggested. ‘I mean, do you think that would help?’

‘I don’t know if it would help with my nightmares, but I would certainly like it if you stayed with me,’ Alastair said. ‘I like to cuddle. It is very nice when you hold me, sensory wise. So, where are we sleeping? I think my bed is bigger, we could easily both fit in there.’

Thomas wondered what Alastair meant with that it was nice, sensory wise. It sounded like something Lucie, who was autistic, might say, but Alastair had not mentioned such a thing, had he?

‘Alright, then I’ll sleep over at your place,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’ll cuddle with you as much as you want. And when you have a nightmare, I’ll be there to remind you that you’re safe.’

[berensroadhouse]

(ao3 link)

           Davis drags his damp rag across the dusty countertop, sighing deeply once he hits the edge. He scans the barren interior, jumping from empty table to empty table to an empty table with bottles, plates, and crumbs left behind. His previous customers must have dipped when he wasn’t looking. Davis grabs a nearby basket, moving towards the mess. He dumps the plates inside, then the bottles after he guzzles the dregs of beer left behind. Finally, Davis takes what he’s owed. Their bill came out to thirty-eight dollars and ninety-five cents. They paid with two twenties, flat. “Fucking assholes…” Davis pockets the money, returning to his post.

           Just another ordinary day at Berens’s.

           He brings the used dishware into an equally empty back kitchen, the doors flapping behind him. Davis recycles the bottles and places the dishes in the sink, washing them immediately. As he sets them on the rack to dry, his eyes linger on a framed photograph hanging nearby. He brushes his thumb across a faded face, a wet fingerprint left behind on the glass. Davis smiles, chuckling softly at where water droplets race down Cal’s profile.

           He misses him. It’s been so many years, and yet Davis still aches for his touch. Davis remembers the phantom feeling of Cal’s arm draped over his shoulders, of their fingers lacing together, of his nose tracing the lines of Davis’s cheek while they took this picture. It was a beautiful day at the beach for them, on a spring morning where they both decided clear skies were better than the suffocating walls of a lecture hall. They fled the campus and found a deserted shore, and under the cover of an umbrella they talked, ate, and kissed and kissed and kissed until the moon replaced the sun and made Davis’s night-dark skin shine when its light hit him. Cal, in reverence, traced constellations with his lips from memory; him, a creamy-white nebula hovering over Davis’s pitch-black galaxy, both communing in a transcendent ritual. It lasted past curfew. They were grounded. It was worth it.

           Someone cuts Davis’s reflection short. A sharp whistle interrupts his thoughts, followed by a gruff, “Anyone home?”

           “I’ll be with you in a second!” Davis needlessly dries his hands on the stained apron tied about his waist, hurrying out of the kitchen to greet his new customers.

           He finds them waiting by the pool table, the one with deep-brunet hair inspecting the cues while the other, fairer-haired man tickles a hole in the table’s lining. They’re dressed for the beach, in brightly patterned shirts, bathing suits, and flip flops, and Davis prays they haven’t come from it. He doesn’t think his ancient joints can manage an hour of sweeping floors, collecting sand that somehow gets everywhere. Regardless, he plasters a replica of a smile onto his face. He clears his throat, drawing their attention. “Sorry for the wait,” he says, “what can I help you with?”

           “Lunch,” Fair Hair says, moving close enough Davis can count the freckles dotting his pinkish cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “What d’you have?”

           “Regular fare,” Davis shrugs, “I can get you a menu or –“

           “No need,” Fair Hair says, “we’ll have burgers, fries, and beers, the most expensive you have!” Then, as he motions for the darker-haired man to stand beside him, he wraps his arm over the brunet’s shoulders. Davis spies the silver band on Fair Hair’s hand. It matches the one his friend wears. “We’re on our honeymoon,” Fair Hair tells Davis, without invitation to do so.

           Davis’s demeanor shifts. A more genuine expression appears on his face, while a warmth rouses the rosebuds sleeping in his chest. It makes their velvet petals bloom, urge forward their aroma, rich and sweet, and causes their thorny brambles to wrap themselves tighter around Davis’s heart. “Congratulations,” he replies, “I don’t have a special newlywed section… but you can sit anywhere, at any table, or the bar… I’ll go and fix up your burgers.” He turns, hiding his glossy, brown eyes before he embarrasses himself. Married men always do this to Davis, unlock a more wistful and sappy part of his soul. Some long-buried piece, that used to dream of a time where he might have had a similar experience to those two on the other side of the kitchen doors.

           He places two beef patties on the grill and starts frying oil for the fries.

           While cooking, his gaze wander back – as it always does – onto that photo of him and Cal. Inspired by his new customers, he reflects on a memory years after that lazy beach day. They shared an apartment, one that offered little besides its amazing view of the ocean and a balcony they could watch the sun set along the waterline after work. It didn’t matter if Davis’s tips barely added up to a twenty, or that Cal’s eyes went cross from staring at numbers for hours at end, because they’d come home, watch orange bleed into blue, then purple into orange, and when the ink dried above Davis finally went about cooking dinner. Cal watched him; eyes alight like the stove burner that simmered their pasta water. “You deserve your own place,” he told Davis, “that way everyone can have a taste of your amazing cooking.”

           Davis shook his head, chuckling. “One day, baby. One day. There’s about a million other things we need to do first, and about half of them involve money.”

           “Yeah, yeah…” Cal reached across the counterspace, intwining their fingers. “It might take a while, with how we get paid.”

           “It might,” Davis conceded, squeezing Cal’s hand. He brings it up and softly kisses each knuckle. “At least we’re saving where we can. Homecooked meals, cheap place… lucky we can’t get married, so we’re saving money that way.”

           Cal frowned, seriousness plaguing him for the moment. He stepped closer, stare intense as he breached Davis’s personal space. “If we could?” he asked, voice hardly a whisper, “would you?”

           “Would I what?”

           “Want to get married?”

           “If they’d let us…” Davis paused, chewing his answer over. He released Cal, moving the steaming pot off the burner. He flicked it off. “I…” He leaned against the stove, arms crossed, “Christ, Cal, I’d want to do more than that.”

           Cal arched a brow, head skewed to the side. “What more is there?”

           “I’d want a big wedding, with all the bells and whistles,” Davis explained, laughing, “a party, a celebration of you and me as we become… well, you-and-me. Then, after the party, we’d go on a big honeymoon –“

           “When we already live next to the beach?”

           “A different beach! Maybe an island!” he said, “And once we’ve finished our trip, we’d buy a little property somewhere in the ‘burbs, as we go about looking to adopt.” Davis rubbed his neck, sheepishly peeking through his lashes at a blushing Cal. “What I’m trying to say is… if I could, I’d want more than marriage. I want a life together where we can just… we can be together, without always worrying who might know, y’know? I’d kill for that. Hell, I’d fight to have that.”

           Funny, though, that when it came time to fight, Davis lost. He fought the paramedics, but they wouldn’t let him in the ambulance. He fought the doctors, who wouldn’t let him see Cal. He fought Cal’s parents, their harsh words and condemnation like being stoned in front of an eager crowd as they chewed him out for their ‘delusions’. Davis heard Cal passed, but wasn’t there when it happened. He also wasn’t invited to Cal’s funeral, to see him off into his next life. Davis did steal a quick moment, though. A kind nurse took pity on him and snuck Davis down into the morgue. She allowed them a final goodbye, as Davis traced the lines of Cal’s cheek with his thumb and pressed tiny kisses wherever his teardrops fell. “I’m sorry,” Davis croaked, chilled by the waxy numbness of his lover’s lifeless hand, “I’m sorry forever wasn’t as long as we planned.”

           Davis assembles the plates messily, mind caught between the past and present like a line of wash. He, hung up by clothespins, is pushed mercilessly by incoming winds. Those clothespins cannot hold forever. The fabric of his body shifts out of their vice-like hold until, finally, he flutters away and out of the kitchen. He returns to the main room of the bar, delivering Fair Hair and his husband’s meals. As expected of newlyweds, they’re wrapped up in each other. The husband whispering into Fair Hair’s ear as they sit on the same side of the table, their fingers laced together atop it. Davis clears his throat, setting the food and drinks down. “Here you are.”

           “Thanks.” Fair Hair grabs his burger with a free hand, shoving into his mouth despite the silent, amused judgment obviously displayed on the other man’s face. Fair Hair moans around the bite, puffy cheeks bursting with a grin. “Dufe,” he says around soggy chunks of bun and burger meat, “Thif if awesfome!”

           “Thanks,” Davis nods, brushing at his apron, “Now, if you need anything, don’t be afraid to holler –“

           “Actually,” the husband delays Davis’s exit, pointing behind him and towards the bar. “I was wondering if you could settle something for us.” Davis looks to where he’s directed, at the glowing neon sign that hangs above rows of bottles. It’s similar to the one that brands the front of his business, in a similar script, too. Except where the cowboy hat-and-bandana hovered above ‘Berens’s’ of Berens’s Roadhouse, indoors it was placed next to it. “Dean here,” the husband continues, Dean – Fair Hair’s name, apparently – rolling his eyes at being called out, “thinks there shouldn’t be an extra ‘s’, after the apostrophe…”

           “Cas…” Dean whines, unofficially introducing his husband, “You don’t have to –“

           Cas continues over Dean, ignoring him. “Meanwhile, I told him that, as long as it’s not plural an ‘s’ should go after the apostrophe. Can you please tell my husband he’s wrong?”

           Davis stares at his sign, tracing the curve of the script with his eyes. In the background, Dean argues in a fierce whisper. “Why are you bringing him into this? He’s not gonna admit he’s wrong!”

           Cas volleys, backhanding his response at Dean. “It’s his name, Dean, he wouldn’t spell it wrong.”

           “Actually,” Davis interrupts, “it’s not my name.” He turns, laughing at their bent brows and Cas’s skewed head and the tiny dots of sauce staining Dean’s mouth. “It was my old boyfriend’s name,” he explains, “Last name.”

           Dean leans forward in his seat, burger forgotten for the moment. Cas realizes there’s a meal in front of him and begins picking at it, chewing absentmindedly on a fry. “You named your place after an old boyfriend?”

           “Felt only right,” Davis shrugs, “Couldn’t have bought this place without him.” Cal’s job, while lacking pay, had a generous insurance policy. Davis was listed as the sole beneficiary. That, coupled with what Cal left Davis in his will, meant he had enough to buy the little property near the beach like they always planned. Naming it after Cal soothed him, somewhat. That angry, gnarly scar over his chest numbing slightly. “Besides,” Davis says, “at least, with the name… it’s like he’s with me.”

           “But not actually with you?” Cas asks, “Like… you haven’t been feeling any cold spots, have you?”

           “Cold spots?”

           The table jolts, saltshaker sliding a few inches to the left. Davis guesses Dean kicked Cas, from the serious edge to his expression and the apologetic wince on Cas’s. “Sorry about him,” Dean apologizes, “he spent the morning binging supernatural podcasts. Y’know… monsters, hauntings, ghosts. Must’ve fried his brain better than the sun could.”

           Davis huffs, smiling. He moves towards the bar, leaning against it to better chat with his customers. “Ghosts?” he says, “No… ain’t nothing like that, at least the kind you’re thinking of.” Davis lets himself imagine Cal like that, tethered to this earthly plane even after passing. His battered body floating amongst empty tables and dirty dishes. Cal chained to their dream, making it a nightmare. Davis quickly dismisses this notion. While he misses Cal, Davis knows wherever he is must be better than this failing monument to Davis’s love. “Maybe if I thought it’d help drum up some business, I’d’ve entertained it. But I doubt ghost stories would help this late in the game.”

           “Oh,” Cas hums. Davis recognizes the tone, familiar with it. Hears it from his accountant, his sister, and the occasional guest who dawdles in the front before skipping off elsewhere for food. “Is your business failing?”

           “Cas!”

           Davis watches them descend into another fight. The paradise of honeymoon quickly crumbling, storm clouds rolling across clear blue skies. He walks behind the bar, grabbing an empty glass and filling it with the tap until the rim is frothy. As he meanders his way closer again, he tunes into their conversation. Dean picks at Cas’s bluntness, while Cas defends his claim in an even pitch that makes Dean sound hysterical.

           “He’s not wrong,” Davis joins them, sitting at an unoccupied seat, “I mean… you think I’d be here chatting with you two if there were things that needed doing?”

           Dean shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable given how he’s looked at the door five times in the span of a minute. “Sorry to hear that.” He guzzles his drink, drowning whatever else he might have said.

           Cas resists the threatening tide of awkwardness lapping at their ankles. “It’s odd that this place isn’t more packed,” he tells Davis, “with the amount of people here – the vacationers alone – there should always be a steady stream of customers.”

           “Those lemmings?” he snorts, sipping at his beer, “They’re always chasing after the next thing. What’s new? What’s shiny? When Berens’s was new and shiny, we got a lot of traffic. There was a time when you couldn’t walk three steps without bumping into someone else. But then more fancier places were being built… chains and clubs and all that… I couldn’t compete. I mean, Roadhouses are popular in the middle of nowhere when there’s barely anything else to do! But I’d’ve been damned if I had to live somewhere without the ocean. Would never want to be fuckin’ landlocked…” His eyes find that swirling script of Cal’s last name. Something heavy crushes his chest, each subsequent breath more labored. “It does suck though. This was our dream, having a place that was… ours. Even when it was just me, I still went ahead because, I thought, why not? Wasn’t as if I had much going for me after Cal… but every month now it’s like the water rises a bit higher and keeping myself afloat doesn’t seem all that worth it anymore.” He glances back at the newlyweds, seeing how he commands both their attention. He notices a somberness in their gaze Davis does not care for. “What am I doing?” he asks aloud, scoffing “This is your honeymoon. You probably have something like parasailing or jet skiing planned, right? Probably cutting into your time –“

           “No, no,” Cas assures him, lips tight as he smothers the pity straining for release. “That’s not it at all –“

           “Yeah,” Dean adds, “We’re all jet skied out from yesterday –“

           “Dean!”

           “And I’m afraid of heights,” he trails off, shoving fries into his mouth, “so that’s a no on parasailing…”

           “What he means,” Cas translates for Davis, “is that we don’t mind listening. It must be stressful, running this place by yourself?”

           Davis chuckles. “Stressful is an understatement.” He slides his drink back and forth across the table, its rhythmic scraping sound almost hypnotic. Skrt. Skrt. “You’d think being mostly empty would make it easier, but actually it’s worse.” Davis looks away from them, bouncing around the room. He frowns at how stray sunlight highlights the dust covering his furniture or floating in the air. “Getting to the point where I don’t know why it’s worth it, coming back day after day.”

           “Because this was your dream,” Cas says, “Yours and Cal’s.” Davis bites his tongue, holstering whatever pointed he comment he had that might burst his bubble. It’s not his fault. Four minutes cannot compare to the four decades of hell Davis lived through without Cal. Forty years of slowly being picked apart by people who didn’t care nor understand what this place meant to Davis. They saw a building where they could eat for an hour, maybe two, and then leave without thinking twice about it. Dean and Cas didn’t plan on gnawing his ear off with this conversation, they stopped by because they were hungry. They were here for their honeymoon, and some of that magic must shield Cas from the harsh reality of Davis’s predicament. He’s blinded from the pain by those romantic, rosy shades. “Doesn’t that make it worth it?”

           “It did, at first,” Davis concedes. He rests his elbows on the table, shoulders sagging with the tiniest amount of relief that feels like water on a blistering, arid day. “But I can’t keep doing something because it’s worth doing… not at my age… not with how business is doing.”

           Cas bristles, responding with more heat than appropriate. “But what you’ve done, for as long as you’ve done it, it’s been good,” he insists, “why stop now because of a – a slump!” Davis’s good temperament chars from the observation.

           He squeezes his drink, hands trembling. “It’s more than a slump,” Davis says, “it’s a freefall. I’ve been putting in all this hard work, and for what? What do I have to show for it?” Davis finishes his drink, meeting Cas’s fierce gaze with his own. “This place’ll probably do better as a condo –“

           “You don’t know that.”

           “I might not, but some folks do.” He bites his lip, unsure why he hurls his troubles into these strangers’ laps. Davis guesses it’s because Cas’s eyes, while hard, effortlessly prodded at the truth and that Dean listened like he cared for whatever left Davis’s mouth it made him want to say something meaningful. Or perhaps Davis was tired of keeping this to himself, and these saps were the tipping point. “Got some realtors skulking about, always asking when I’m ready to put this place out to pasture. Condos were one thing that was discussed… so were gyms, a dispensary, a parking lot –“

           “You’d let them turn this place into a parking lot?” Cas asks.

           “I don’t have much of a choice in my position,” Davis says, “They’ve got money that I need.”

           “But you said this place… you named it in memory of your love,” Cas murmurs, softer. He shrinks, drooping slightly. Dean gently cups Cas’s neck and massages with such care Davis sucks in a quick breath. Davis feels the memory of a caress on his neck, enough that he ghosts his fingers over the skin there in case someone had touched it. “If you sell… then isn’t that like giving up on him?”

           Davis wondered the same things. He spent countless hours awake in bed, worrying about how admitting failure went past the surface. That giving up on Berens’s meant letting go of that final piece of Cal he can call his.

           But Davis, weary from these thoughts, has made peace with this sacrifice. “Everyone else already gave up on Berens’s,” he says, “I’ll only be the last…”

           “That’s bullshit.” Dean speaks, finally rejoining their conversation. His sudden outburst places him at the center of this conversation, affixed at his husband’s side. “You shouldn’t give up. Cal wanted this place for you, didn’t he? You were only able to buy it because of him.”

           “Because he died,” Davis growls, “That’s how. If he knew how much of a shitshow this whole business would’ve been, I doubt he’d have wanted me to use the money for this. Hell, he’d probably hate if I stayed and pissed away the rest of my money trying to keep the lights on in here. Like stopping footprints from being swept smooth by the tide, it’s like.”

           “Well…” Dean fumbles, scratching at his plate for something to do. There’s no food left. Neither on Cas’s plate. Davis knows Cas was too busy to eat. “Okay, what if you sold it to people who… who want to run it as it is?”

           “I’d ask them how they think they can do this any better,” Davis sighs, slumping backwards. “Besides, there isn’t anyone who wants to do that who’s also eyeing this property.”

           “What about us?”

           Davis asks Dean what he said. Dean repeats himself. From Cas’s wide-eyed stare, Davis knows he heard correctly. “Really?” he drawls, sarcasm heavily coloring his tone. “You want to buy this place? Like that?”

           Dean shrugs, fiddling with his thumbs. He sweats, spotlight too warm for him now. “Uh… yeah?”

           “Have you ever run a restaurant before? Or a bar?”

           “No,” Dean says, “But I had family, who ran a roadhouse. Helped them a few times when my brother and I stopped over – we traveled, a lot, for work. It was years ago but I still remember a lot of what went into it…” Dean smiles unnaturally. It reminds Davis of those phony grins motivational snake-oil salesmen would coach suckers into doing in front of mirrors, to inspire confidence. “Besides, Cas and I have been looking for a career change.”

           “That is true,” Cas adds, brow raised, “Although we never discussed running a roadhouse.”

           “Cas, sweetie, I mentioned how owning a bar might be cool.”

           “Bars and roadhouses aren’t the same thing.”

           Davis coughs, nipping the budding argument while young. “As nice as the offer is,” he starts, “You boys don’t haf’ta buy this place from me because of pity –“

           “It’s not pity,” Dean insists, “No, not at all. I…” He glances at Cas, a strange emotion shuddering across his face. Like maybe he’s seen a ghost. That grip on Cas’s neck visibly tightens. “I know what it feels like, wanting to keep something… of someone you love. A physical reminder that they were here and that they mattered and… they mattered to you.”

           Cas leans into his husband’s side. “Dean’s very sentimental.”

           “Yeah,” Dean laughs, “I guess you could call it that.” He takes the empty plate with his free hand and stacks it atop the other, pushing them towards Davis, knocking it into the salt-and-pepper shakers and napkin dispenser. “I’ve lost a lot in my life, and I’ve only been so lucky to not just have them come back to me, but to get second chances. Or third chances, or even fourths.” Dean’s lips lift at the corners, flashing a friendly smirk. He definitely appears more relaxed than he did seconds ago. ���I want to be the one to give chances, now, because I can. I want to buy Berens’s from you… if that’s okay?”

           It’s too good. Davis pinches himself, first. When he doesn’t wake, he knows he isn’t dreaming. He places a hand over his heart. Its strong beat reveals Davis has not died. Still, Davis cannot lower his defenses completely. “This isn’t a sting?” he asks, “Some harebrained scheme cooked up by scuzzy developers to get me to sell?”

           “The fuck this look like, Scooby-Doo?”

           Cas chuckles, “It might if you brought your ascot with you.”

           “Cas –“

           “So, you’re…” Davis scrubs a hand over his mouth, pressing it against stubble and focusing on the drag. “You’re serious? About wanting to buy this place?” He huffs a tired breath, tension leaking out of the cracks in his bones and leaving him with little support. Davis collapses on himself, smiling. “What about your honeymoon?”

           “Honestly?” Dean laughs, mirroring Davis’s posture, “We were running out of things to do. Probably would have hit the road in a few days, head on back to Kansas.”

           “Kansas?” Davis squawks, “You sure you aren’t using this as an opportunity to jump ship from there?”

           Cas sips at his drink, a bead of condensation falling off it from how long it went untouched. “We love Kansas,” he tells Davis, “but where we live now it… there’s a lot of baggage there. We want to start fresh.”

           “Besides,” Dean adds, “my brother was talking about renovations, making it more… work-friendly. Figured it’s best me and Cas dip and let the little brat have a go at it on his own. He’s earned it, I guess.”

           Davis nods. “If that’s all…” His gaze darts to the neon sign, a question in his mind. “Hey,” he says, “if you are plannin’ on doing this… this crazy idea of yours, are you – do you have any preference to what you call this place?”

           Dean taps at his chin, drawing the silence longer than necessary. “Well… a few come to mind. Harvelle’s… Campbell’s… Singer’s… hell, I could follow your lead and name it after Cas here, Novak’s – “

           “You’re not funny.” Cas elbows Dean hard enough the other man gasps from the pain, the other two delighting from the bug-eyed look that flashes. “We’ll keep it Berens’s.”

           “Thank you,” Davis says, standing, “Really… I – this is good. Great, actually. You want another round? On the house?”

           “Hey!” Dean protests, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “No giving away free booze! That’s our profit you’re eating into…”

           “Not yet,” he jokes, digging through his pockets, “Deed’s not yours until the I’s are dotted and money’s in my hands.” Davis finds what he searched for, tossing a quarter towards them. Cas catches it, effortlessly. “Why don’t you pick something from the jukebox, my treat!”

           He rises, and Davis turns to round the bar. Davis grabs three smaller glasses, and the Jameson he keeps on the highest shelf. He pours them each a generous fifth, maybe more. It’s a celebration, after all. As he carries the drinks back over, the opening chords of a familiar song start. Davis nearly drops the drinks.

           His expression must concern them, because Cas clears his throat and asks, “Is this okay?”

           Elvis croons from the speaker. Davis’s face strains from the too-wide grin threatening to crack his face in twain. “It’s perfect,” he says, settling at the table. He distributes the drinks, Cas joining them. “Cal always dug Elvis.”

           “I get it,” Dean says, “guy was a hunk, for the fifties.”

           They spend the next hour like that. Getting drunk, discussing the hardships of running a business and debating Elvis’s legacy as ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ plays in the background on loop. During a lull in their conversation, Davis feels, for the first time, that Cal is alive again.

           It wasn’t because of the bar, or how it fares. But because of these two men, a sense of calm washed over him. They make Davis hopeful for the future.

           Berens’s is in good hands.

[outdoor-fireplace-kitchen]

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[corpse--diem]

Haunted Hallways | Jasmine & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @halequeenjas & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Jasmine shows Erin around a new apartment when they’re interrupted by an old friend.

It was interesting how time could keep moving and stand still all at the same time. Weeks had gone by since her world had all but gone up in flames but the world kept going. Still pushed forward. So Erin had to keep moving with it, and by the time the opportunity came to look for a new apartment, it made all the sense in the world to jump on it. Nic and Skylar had been more than gracious allowing her to stay with them as long as they had but she needed her space. Always had. Especially now, given that some lunatic felt comfortable just waltzing in and burning down buildings she frequently inhabited. The door was already open when she approached the apartment building her new realtor, a Ms. Jasmine Hale, had picked out. From the outside, the place seemed nice enough. Seemed like a place she could exist, at first glance, even if only temporarily. “Hello?” She called out, knocking on the open door before she saw the other woman. Greeting her with a smile, Erin reached out her hand. “Jasmine?” She asked tentatively. “Erin Nichols. It’s nice to meet you, finally! Sorry, I hope I’m not too late. The fog out there is extra wicked today. I had to take my time getting here,” she apologized with a crinkle of her nose.

As Jasmine had rushed up to the apartment she was showing her new client, she was grateful Erin had yet to arrive. One of the stupid floating fish had been circling her Jag and she wasn’t about to become some fish’s dinner. Being late was never a good look for a professional and she wasn’t in the business of wasting people’s time. Just as she was about to head up and place some wards around and scope out the scene, she heard her name. Crap. She threw on her megawatt smile anyway and extended her hand to shake. “Yes, it’s me. Good to meet you in person, Erin.” This fog did really put a damper on the whole driving thing and the fish were weird. With a laugh, she responded, “Oh yeah, the fog is a doozy. Really uncharacteristic for it to be this thick, but better to drive safely.” She kept her face bright and smile winning to not give way to the nerves that were boiling underneath. Larry Bob was likely to show his pathetic, scraggly face to blow this rental for her. She had to hide the horrified look on her face as she opened the door and saw the stripes. She could spin this. “As you can see, this place is really into modern decor, but I think the floor plan and price here is what the real winner is.”

Jasmine was as chirpy and bright as Erin expected any good realtor to be. Not unpleasantly, though, like how an overzealous salesperson could drown you in big grins and enthusiasm. Jasmine was teeming with all of that stuff too, that much was obvious, but Erin could still breathe. She appreciated that. “Good to meet you too--” Erin started, the smile she returned drooping into a slacked jaw she couldn’t stop. Black and white stripes. Everywhere. “Christ,” she mumbled under her breath, the unexpected bold lines making her squint. There was something innately familiar about this scene she couldn’t put her finger on. Probably saw something like it in a magazine at one point. “Modern decor is…” she started, shrugging when nothing positive came to mind immediately. “Well, it’s something, alright. Definitely not my area of expertise.” Didn’t find a lot of that in a funeral home, that was for sure. With a chuckle, she raised an eyebrow in Jasmine’s direction but slowed her movements until she came to a complete stop, gesturing towards the stripes that felt like they were swallowing them whole the farther they went. “I’ve got to be honest, if the apartment looks anything like this hallway, I’m going to save you the trouble and stop the tour right now. This is…” she grimaced, shaking her head. “Like, a lot.”

Modern decor was one of her personal areas of expertise, but this definitely wasn’t it. Still, Jasmine could spin this. They’d both driven all the way out here in the crazy fog and from the video tour, the apartment itself looked darling. “I’ll admit, the exterior is a little loud for my tastes, but that’s not where most people spend a lot of their time… well, unless you like hanging in hallways but that seems weird so,” she explained with a shrug as she led them to the unit in question. Internally, she pleaded that they hadn’t decided to redecorate the interior of the unit as well. As she opened the door to the apartment, she let out a breath of relief. Totally normal just as she had planned. “See, definitely different from the hallway. I think too many buildings are trying to be trendy nowadays, but the floorplan here is amazing. You’ve got all this open space, but let’s take a look around. I always like to end with the kitchen-- if it turns out they didn’t clean something right, you don’t wanna deal with the smell the whole time you’re perusing the place.”

Oh, thank God. This whole set-up was a temporary solution--somewhere to stay while Erin waited for the insurance to kick in and the (hopeful) rebuilding to start. But even temporarily staring at an apartment that looked like the hallway was absolutely out of the question. “Oh, no, you’re so right. This is great,” she exclaimed with genuine surprise and relief. Way better than the other apartments she’d found looking on her own, anyway. “I honestly don’t need anything too fancy. If everything goes to plan, this should be temporary. I should mention that, shouldn’t I? And it’s just me and my cat, anyway. Well, and sometimes my boyfriend, but I’m usually at his place. Indoor pool guy--need I say more?” She raised a playful brow, grinning. “Pets are okay too, right?” She asked, though her attention drifted to the windows in the living room. Not a great view she determined, but not bad either. Decent enough for temporary. What felt like a small gust of wind moved past her--barely detectable if it wasn’t for the temperature. Like someone had opened a freezer right in her face. “Oh, is it always this cold? How’s the heating?” she asked, turning to Jasmine again, following closely behind as she did her thing.

There was a bright smile on her face as she saw Erin look around seemingly happy. Jasmine knew this would be a perfect spot. Nice open floor plan, decent storage space, a nice view from the window-- and for a fair price? Who wouldn’t love this place? If she wasn’t already living in her perfect waterfront home on Harris Island, she’d have snagged this place up. “I do try to make it a habit of being right,” she joked although if she was being honest, she actually meant that statement. “I think this might be the spot for you then. Not overly fancy, but still very comfortable and a practical price. And wait… isn’t indoor pool guy the one who eats water with his cereal?” Men really needed to be stopped sometimes. Water in cereal when milk wasn’t even expensive. It was definitely gross and she definitely judged him a little for it. Still, she recovered with a laugh and said, “But indoor pool. Sure it makes staying there more fun.” She’d looked over the details carefully before showing this place even if she did somehow miss the striped hallway. “Yep, cats are totally welcome! They don’t even charge pet rent,” she answered as she felt a familiar cold sensation. Oh no. She swore she would throw Larry Bob out of existence as she cursed under her breath. She clutched the bag of salt in her purse and looked around carefully only to be shocked to find a ghost that was surprisingly not Larry Bob. “Oh my god, I totally have to show you the bathtub. It’s right over there,” she gestured and quickly threw a dash of salt at the tacky ghost in the Hawaiian shirt. Who dodged her. Of freaking course!

It’d been a few years since Erin had lived in an apartment on her own, and while the circumstances that had brought her here weren’t ideal, it was a little exciting. Something of her own again. Something that wasn’t passed down and filled with ghosts of a family that no longer lived there. This could be hers, for as little or as long as she had, and the thought was a welcome one. Jasmine’s upbeat attitude had a refreshing grounding nature to it. She liked her already. “Ah. You remember that, huh?” she laughed quietly, shaking her head. “The one and the same. Bit of a dumbass--I think the water cereal speaks for itself on that. But he’s a good one,” she said, a teasing fondness in her tone. Good. Betty could live peacefully here too no problem. At this point, she had little doubt about whether or not she would be taking the place. She could picture her curled up at the large window, Nic frying up eggs in the kitchen--oh, she wanted to see the kitchen next. God, it was freezing in here though. Holding her arms against herself, she followed Jasmine, turning her head sharply at the exclamation about the bathtub. “Oh, yeah. Sure,” she nodded, narrowing her eyes.

“Missed me, bitch.”

Was someone else here? A squatter, maybe? The familiar voice, that deep-throated chuckle shook her immediately. She knew that voice somehow. Her mind jumped to Roy and his goons. Was he seriously watching her this intently? How? “Jasmine?” She called out, slowly reaching for the knife in her purse. “Everything alright in--” She saw the bowl of fruit flying straight at them as she turned the corner to the kitchen. An apple smacking her shoulder when she turned and cowered away and that hearty laugh echoed through the apartment.

“Oh hell yeah. That’s what I’m talking about,” the voice boomed. Erin saw the loud Hawaiian shirt first, covered with dry blood that had soaked down from the side of his head. There was still a gash from the baseball bat she had nailed hi No, no, no. This--this wasn’t happening. Dale was dead. Dale was not standing there in her soon to be new kitchen. “...Dale?” His eyes turned dark when they fell on hers. “Miss me, sweetheart?” His grin was as sharp and vile as she remembered, and without missing a beat, he sent one of the pans hanging for show beside the stove hurtling their way.

If it wasn’t Larry Bob, apparently it was some other jackass in a Hawaiian shirt trying to crash her showings. Seriously? Jasmine was fuming now and wanted to smack this ghost into whatever ether it was supposed to be in. She had been pretty sure Erin went to go check out the bathroom, so she was surprised when he asked if she missed him. “I don’t even know you, you absolute creep,” she retorted with a glare on her face as she quickly reached into her bag for her iron rod. The familiar chill had never been comforting to her, but she wouldn’t lose her resolve to a ghost in a tacky shirt.

She saw him ready to throw and apple and her head whipped back to follow it. It clearly wasn’t aimed at her and she gasped when she saw Erin there. Shit. How was she supposed to explain this? “I’m so,” she started but quickly had to dodge a pan. There was a loud crash as it fell to the floor after colliding into the wall. “Oh hell no,” she grumbled, standing taller this time and charging toward the ghost. “You were not invited to this and I don’t know who the hell you think you are. I’d get out of here before I exorcise you out of existence. I know it must be hard to move on stuck in that awful shirt, but trust me, it’s better than what I’ll do to you.” She raced forward ready to whack him with the iron rod, but he dodged out the way, causing her to stumble forward.

Was Jasmine trying to apologize for the big ass bald ghost in the kitchen? Dale. Fucking Dale. Erin didn’t understand the how or why but there he was, and she’d be a liar if the word zombie didn’t cross her mind again. Because here he was, live and in color. She was still trying to wrap her head around it when Jasmine went on the attack. “Jasmine, don’t--” Erin started, but she was insulting the clothes on his back and charging at him anyway. Exorcise? Did she just say exorcise? Sounded like some Blanche-flavored ghost bullshit she wanted nothing to do with. “Don’t worry lady, you’ll have your turn,” he growled, giving Jasmine a good kick from behind after she stumbled forward.

Erin ran forward out of instinct after her, stopping in her tracks when Dale turned around only feet from her now. His smile wicked, verging into a sneer. “Been a while, huh?” He asked, reaching for anything close. Both of their eyes widened for different reasons when he managed to get a hold of a display knife out of it’s holding block. Erin stepped back with every step forward, shaking her head. “No, no, no--you’re dead,” was all she could manage. She was sure of it - she’d burned his body and that ugly blood stained shirt herself. This wasn’t possible. There shouldn’t have been a body to come back, even if this was some sort of zombie situation. But here he was anyway, swinging the blade at her. She stumbled on the pan that he’d tossed earlier, falling back when another swing of his arm narrowly missed. Grabbing it, she used it as a shield when the blade came down, leaving a dent. Fuck. Yep. Didn’t matter how at this point. He was very much real. “Jasmine!” Erin hollered for help, clambering backwards.

The kick in the back she got from this ghosty asshole as she moved forward hurt, but Jasmine wasn’t about to let this rando spirit ruin this showing. She quickly recovered and tightened her grip on the iron rod. A horrified look crossed her face as she realized Erin was charging toward the ghost who was clearly still stuck in a mid life crisis without any salt or iron. “Don’t,” she called out, but it was too late. She was already in range of the Danny Devito knock off and now he was picking up a knife. She swore she’d banish him from existence right now if he used that knife on Erin. That was a $400 chef’s knife and he’d ruin it. Or worse, it’d be stuck in evidence forever. “Hey, asshole, over here,” she called out as she reached out for the salt on the counter. “Maybe next time you choose to haunt a place, stay out of the kitchen you absolute buffoon of a ghost!” She threw a dash of salt at him, which had to sting, but he was still with them. Ugh. She tossed the salt to Erin and raised her iron rod, daring this jackass to take her on.

Salt? What the fuck was she supposed to do with this? Erin racked her brain, trying to remember something Blanche had mentioned about it -- but it seemed to work. His physical form wavered just enough for him to drop the knife and let out a hiss. “God, you fucking b--” He hollered, turning his head to Jasmine, the dried blood on the side of his head the most glaring thing. Erin kicked the knife down the hallway, scrambling to sit up before taking Jasmine’s lead. His fist missed Jasmine when another handful of salt burned his corporeal form and he flickered again, like someone trying to blow out a candle. “You both want to die today? That’s fine by me, chickadee. I’ve got all the time in the fucking world,” he practically snarled, grabbing for Jasmine once he got a hold of himself again.  

It seemed Erin didn’t hesitate too long on the salt. Small miracles were still miracles, but anger rose in Jasmine the moment he grabbed hold of her again. “Oh, hell no. Get your ugly ghost hands off my blouse,” she yelled as she kept her grip solid on the iron rod in her left hand and stabbed it through him. There was something nausea-inducing in the feeling of an iron rod going through his very much solid form, but she could feel that he was a ghost. Plus, the salt had worked on him. The iron did, too, and soon enough after some choice words he faded away. She let out the breath she had been holding before straightening her jacket and blouse and turning to Erin. “Okay, excuse my French here, but what the fuck,” she exclaimed. “It’s clear you know Mr. Wannabe Tommy Bahama over here, so what’s the deal?”

Ghost. Erin definitely heard the word ghost come out of Jasmine’s mouth. Fuck that. Fuck ghosts. Fuck Dale. Thankfully Jasmine shared the same sentiments. With wide-eyes, she watched as he practically dissolved before her eyes, gone as quickly and violently as he’d come. Something told her he wasn’t gone-gone though. The room was still as cold as it had been before, like a slightly wind chill nipping at her skin. Erin shifted uncomfortably, straightening her clothes as she tried to think of an adequate explanation. “He, uh--” Erin cleared her throat, shaking her head. “He was an old co-worker. It didn’t… you know. End well,” she nodded. That was all she needed to know, right? Her eyes narrowed at Jasmine. “How did you know he was a ghost? He was--” she held out a hand, tapping her forearm with her pointer finger. “Tangible. He could hold stuff. I thought they weren’t supposed to do that.”

It dawned on her that she said ghost outloud and Jasmine mentally cursed herself. Thankfully Erin didn’t find the concept to be too far fetched. At the mention of him being an old coworker, she immediately had a kindred feeling. Funny enough, they both had old coworkers as ghosts following them around. “Funny, I’ve got a pain in the ass coworker that’s a ghost, too. Normally, you wouldn’t be able to see yours. I just happened to be ‘blessed’ with the gift of seeing ghosts… and of getting rid of them. Since you’re not totally running for the hills, I’m an exorcist.” At the question of being tangible, she grumbled. She was thoroughly over this whole ghosts being solid thing. “I don’t know what’s going on there, but it’s a thing right now. Ghosts seem to be solid some of the time and I’m not loving it. So no, he’s not supposed to be able to do that and you shouldn’t have been able to see him.” Realizing this ghost had it out for her, she added, “Whatever place you move into, I’m throwing up some wards for you.” Talk about full service realty.

Jasmine’s words did little to comfort Erin, and it was even less of a relief to know that Dale was probably hanging around with her long before this. That cold feeling wasn’t entirely new--just something she’d shrugged off on more than one occasion. Awesome. Her heart was in the process of dropping to her stomach as Jasmine spoke, only perking up at ‘exorcist’. “Right,” she drawled with a hint of unintentional skepticism in her voice. “I hope yours at least shopped at places that weren’t tacky beach gift shops,” she murmured, trying to lighten the tightness suddenly enveloping her chest. Didn’t work as well as she’d hoped. “All I know is that they exist. I’ve never seen one before. Ever,” She said with a sigh, running a frustrated hand through her hair. Is that what Blanche had to endure on a daily basis? She couldn’t blame her for her freakouts if that was the case. “If he’s not supposed to be like that, then how is he like that? And do they always--uh, you know. Look like that?” She gestured towards her head, a reference to the bloody crack in his skull. The one Erin had put there months and months ago. Her heart beat hard again and she started to pick up the dented pan and knife at her feet, wincing at the scuff marks on both. Her eyes filled with fear, jumping back up to Jasmine. “He’s not going to come back, is he?”

It was evident to Jasmine that Erin wasn’t exactly comfortable with this news. Not that she could blame her. It was likely that this tacky ghost had been following her around for longer than she’d known which was far from comforting. “Worse, when he’s off work, he had crocs in 10 different colors,” she joked to keep the mood from getting too heavy. Of course Erin had never seen a ghost before. It wasn’t a gift that most people had and had to be alarming if you weren’t entirely used to it. Hell, even she was alarmed from time to time. “That makes sense, I’m not sure why people can see them now and why they’re solid. Probably some bigger White Crest bullshit like the fog and the mimes. But yeah, they do usually look like that. Well, not that specifically, but any injuries that killed them are still there as a ghost. Not always pretty, but to be fair, I don’t think your guy here was all that pretty to look at when he was alive either.” Jasmine started tidying up a little bit and put the knife back in its rightful spot. Dale had really come in and made a mess of the kitchen. At least no one was hurt. “The iron will have him gone for at least a few hours. Whatever place you pick, I’ll put wards up. Actually, wherever you’re currently staying should have wards, too. It keeps them out.”

Erin tried to laugh at the joke Jasmine volleyed back at her but it came out more like a stunted, heavy breath. “He sounds like the worst kind of person, honestly,” she said a bit distantly, her brow raised in harsh skepticism. Ghosts. Fucking ghosts. Dale’s ghost. It was hard to focus on anything else but those two things right now. How long had he been following her? How the fuck was he solid now suddenly? Skipping town and going into hiding, putting this place behind her just kept looking better and better every day. “Aren’t we just… super lucky to live in a town like this?” She asked, teeth tight against her smile and her fist slightly clenched. God, she was tired. But for all the nonsense they’d just experienced, this apartment fortunately looked just as good as it had before things got weird. “Oh, yeah, please. I’ll take all the wards you can possibly give me. Anything you’ve got. Like, I will personally pay you extra just for the wards,” she said, finally letting out a long breath, trying to think of anything but the sound of her baseball bat crunching skull bone or that toothy grin. He was gone. They were fine. For now. “But that asshole sure as hell isn’t going to stop me from missing out on a great apartment.” She paused a beat, nodding towards Jasmine, a gentler smile finding its way to the surface. “I’ll take it.”

[newstfionline]

Sunday, December 20, 2020

Americans Are Drinking More During The Pandemic (NPR) When the pandemic began spreading across the U.S. in March, stores, restaurants and schools closed down. But liquor stores in many parts of the U.S. were deemed essential and stayed open. Alcohol sales have ticked up during the pandemic, so maybe it’s a good time to ask yourself: Are you drinking more than you’d like to be? R. Lorraine Collins, a psychologist at the University of Buffalo, recommends asking yourself, “Are you keeping alcohol as ... a special beverage for limited situations, or are you engaging in alcohol use across the board?” A break from alcohol can lead to a range of outcomes. As we’ve reported, a 2016 British study of people who participated in a monthlong “Dry January” break, found that 82% said they felt a sense of achievement. “Better sleep” was cited by 62%, and 49% said they lost some weight. Maybe you hike farther, have better conversations or get better sleep. Notice if your life feels richer to you. If we’re stuck at home for now, why not give it a try? What do you have to lose?

‘Do as I say’: Anger as some politicians ignore virus rules (AP) Denver’s mayor flies to Mississippi to spend Thanksgiving with his family—after urging others to stay home. He later says he was thinking with “my heart and not my head.” A Pennsylvania mayor bans indoor dining, then eats at a restaurant in Maryland. The governor of Rhode Island is photographed at an indoor wine event as her state faces the nation’s second-highest virus rate. While people weigh whether it’s safe to go to work or the grocery store, the mayor of Austin, Texas, heads to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, on a private jet after hosting a wedding for 20. California’s governor dines at a swanky French restaurant with lobbyists, none wearing masks, a day after San Francisco’s mayor was there for a birthday party. Both had recently imposed tough rules on restaurants, shops and activities to slow the spread of the virus. To the public’s chagrin, some of America’s political leaders have been caught preaching one thing on the coronavirus and practicing another. Sure, politicians have long been called out for hypocrisy. But during a pandemic that’s forced millions into seclusion and left many without paychecks, such actions can feel like a personal insult—reinforcing the idea “that some people just don’t have to follow the rules while the rest of us do,” says Rita Kirk, a professor of communications at Southern Methodist University. Pandemic-era hypocrisy has only deepened the polarization in a time already marked by division, emboldening those who doubt the seriousness of the virus and dividing people’s responses based on political affiliations.

Hacked networks will need to be burned ‘down to the ground’ (AP) It’s going to take months to kick elite hackers widely believed to be Russian out of the U.S. government networks they have been quietly rifling through since as far back as March in Washington’s worst cyberespionage failure on record. Experts say there simply are not enough skilled threat-hunting teams to duly identify all the government and private-sector systems that may have been hacked. FireEye, the cybersecurity company that discovered the intrusion into U.S. agencies and was among the victims, has already tallied dozens of casualties. It’s racing to identify more. “We have a serious problem. We don’t know what networks they are in, how deep they are, what access they have, what tools they left,” said Bruce Schneier, a prominent security expert and Harvard fellow. Many federal workers—and others in the private sector—must presume that unclassified networks are teeming with spies. Agencies will be more inclined to conduct sensitive government business on Signal, WhatsApp and other encrypted smartphone apps. The only way to be sure a network is clean is “to burn it down to the ground and rebuild it,” Schneier said.

College students recruited as teachers to keep schools open (AP) As the coronavirus sidelines huge numbers of educators, school districts around the country are aggressively recruiting substitute teachers, offering bonuses and waiving certification requirements in order to keep classrooms open. Coming to the rescue in many cases are college students who are themselves learning online or home for extended winter breaks. In Indiana, the 4,400-student Greenfield-Central school district about 20 miles (32 kilometers) east of Indianapolis made a plea for help as its substitute pool shrank. “I said, ‘If you’ve got a student who’s in college, maybe they’d like to work even a two-month thing for us—which would be a stopgap, no doubt—but it will help us a whole, whole bunch,” said Scott Kern, the Greenfield-Central Community School Corporation director of human resources. Over a dozen college students answered the call including his own daughter, 19-year-old Grace Kern, who is studying medical imaging technology at Indiana University–Purdue University Indianapolis. She has been working in elementary school classrooms, helping students as teachers offer instruction remotely via a screen inside the room.

An Ex-Governor Is Gunned Down, Punctuating a Deadly Year for Mexico (NYT) The former governor of the state of Jalisco was gunned down early Friday while vacationing in the resort city of Puerto Vallarta, the authorities said, a brazen killing that further illustrated the government’s struggles to rein in the deadly violence that has surged across Mexico over the past five years. The killing of the ex-governor, Aristóteles Sandoval, who was shot in the back inside a restaurant restroom, is one of the highest-profile political killings in Mexico in recent memory, security experts said. Mr. Sandoval was killed just hours before President Andrés Manuel López Obrador and his cabinet delivered a grim update on the nation’s security situation during a news conference. More than 31,000 murders were recorded in Mexico this year as of November, the latest month for which government statistics are available, a figure roughly on pace with 2019. But homicides have nearly doubled over the past five years.

Bosnian city of Mostar gets a vote (AP) Irma Baralija is looking forward to Sunday, when she intends to vote and hopes to win her race as the southern Bosnian city of Mostar holds its first local election in 12 years. To make that vote possible in her hometown, the 36-year-old Baralija had to sue Bosnia in the European Court of Human Rights for letting a stalemate between two major nationalist political parties prevent her, along about 100,000 other Mostar residents, from voting or running in a municipal election for over a decade. By winning in court in October 2019, Baralija believes she has “busted the myth (that nationalist parties) have been feeding to us, that an individual cannot move things forward, that we matter only as members of our ethnic groups.” Left without fully functioning institutions, Mostar—one of the impoverished Balkan country’s main tourist destinations—has seen its infrastructure crumble, trash repeatedly pile up on its streets and hazardous waste and wastewater treatment sludge dumped in its only landfill, which was supposed to be for non-hazardous waste.

India’s virus cases cross 10 million as new infections dip (AP) India’s confirmed coronavirus cases have crossed 10 million with new infections dipping to their lowest levels in three months, as the country prepares for a massive COVID-19 vaccination in the new year. Dr. Randeep Guleria, a government health expert, said India is keeping its fingers crossed as the cases tend to increase in winter months. India is home to some of the world’s biggest vaccine-makers and there are five vaccine candidates under different phases of trial in the country.

Israel’s top-secret Mossad looks to recruit via Netflix, Hulu and Apple TV (Washington Post) After decades in the shadows, Israel’s foreign intelligence agency, the Mossad, has been getting a lot of airtime, both on the news and in popular TV thrillers. In real life, details of operations attributed to Israel are in the open like never before, including the theft two years ago of a trove of nuclear secrets from inside Iran, last summer’s drive-by killing of al-Qaeda’s No. 2 in Tehran and the assassination last month of Iran’s top nuclear scientist, Mohsen Fakhrizadeh. And on the screen, streaming hits like Apple TV Plus’s “Tehran,” Netflix’s “The Spy” and Hulu’s “False Flag” have starred the Mossad as a cold, ruthless and efficient machine. Far from squirming, the once-supersecret agency has welcomed the exposure, former spies say. The Mossad needs recruits. Military veterans who might have once made their career in national service now leave to work for lucrative start-ups, or found their own. Israeli companies Waze, Wix, Viber and others were started by intelligence veterans. In response, Yossi Cohen, the Mossad’s director since 2016 and a close ally of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, has embarked on a hiring spree, increased the agency’s number of sabotage operations and enlarged its budget by billions of shekels. The Mossad’s recruitment drive includes a heightened social media presence and a calculated trickle of unconfirmed information about its exploits. And former spies say the agency is quietly embracing a slew of TV shows and movies that could do for the agency what “Top Gun” famously did for naval recruitment: make a life in the organization seem cool again.

Chaos and jubilation as freed Nigerian schoolboys reunite with family (Reuters) Parents sobbed, mobbed their children in hugs and even kissed the ground in gratitude on Friday as they reunited with scores of schoolboys who had been kidnapped a week earlier in northwest Nigeria. Hundreds of adults jostled to find their offspring among the 344 dusty and dazed looking children who had arrived by bus in Katsina state on Friday morning. Those who succeeded cheered and grabbed their children, but scores more were still waiting by early evening. “I feel like God has granted me paradise because I am so happy,” said an ebullient Hamza Kankara after she found her son, Lawal, in the crowd. Another man knelt and kissed the ground, thanking God for the return of his young son, before clutching the boy and sobbing.

[my-proof-is-you]

Just One Week - Part 1

Dean x Reader AU

A broken engagement leads you to go on your honeymoon alone to pick up the pieces of your heart. While there, you meet an incredibly handsome man to spend the week with. Being around a guy again should have been the last thing on your mind. 

But hey, it’s just one week...right?

Masterlist

You

As the plane touched down, you looked out the window, asking yourself for the millionth time what you were doing.

You stood up, getting your carry-on down from the overhead compartment. A sweet-looking older lady stood in the aisle behind you, and gave you a small smile. You saw her look into your row--as if she was looking for someone else--before averting her gaze. 

That’s right, lady. I’m all alone. 

You rolled your eyes and continued down the aisle. When you got off the plane you were surrounded immediately by the perfect Hawaii weather. Despite the crushing sadness you were feeling, the warm sun made you smile a bit. 

An hour later you were at your resort, complete with a lei around your neck and a Mai Tai in hand. Though you couldn’t believe you went on your honeymoon alone, you were ready to do whatever it took to forget the son-of-a-bitch that got you there in the first place. 

Dean

Being on vacation was the last thing Dean wanted to do.

His stupid brother dragged him to Hawaii. He claimed all Dean did was “work” and that “he needed to take a break.” 

Psh. Spending sixty hours a week in my auto shop was hardly what I would call “work.”

“Dude, remind me again why I’m here,” he said, walking next to his brother toward the resort entrance.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Because, you were running on E, man. It was time for a break.”

“Yeah, Dean, there’s nothing wrong with taking a little time off. Surf...swim...ladies?” Cas said, throwing his arm around Dean’s shoulders. Cas was the third participant in the “guys trip,” and Sam and Dean’s best friend. 

“I can get ladies at home!” Dean insisted.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked, challenging. “And when was the last time you even went on a date?”

“Uh…” Dean sputtered. 

“Exactly. So shut up,” Sam said with a smirk. “It’s just one week.”

“Bitch,” Dean replied.

“Jerk.” Sam shoved his brother a little bit. The men were coming up on the front desk, and Sam stepped up to check them in. 

Dean’s eyes scanned the lobby of the resort, taking it all in for the first time. Cas stood by the other end of the check-in desk to his right, filling a plastic cup with lemon-infused water. The rest of the room was huge, complete with fancy looking couches and an indoor fountain. In the center of the room was a wrap-around bar with every liquor imaginable. 

It was when his eyes got to the elevators that he finally saw something he found interesting. 

You were wearing a simple black sundress that hit just above your knees. Your long Y/H/C hair was flowing down in relaxed waves, and Dean could tell even from a distance that your eyes were a beautiful shade of Y/E/C. 

The thing that really got his attention, though, was your smile.

At first glance, you didn’t look very happy. Dean kept watching mindlessly for a minute, though, and saw you interact with an employee of the resort. He took your bag for you, and you smiled at him in thanks. 

It was beautiful. 

Before he could think about you anymore, though, the elevator doors opened and you disappeared inside. 

“Dude, you ready?” Cas asked, nudging Dean. He snapped back to attention and looked at his friend. 

“Yeah, let’s get this week started,” he said, shouldering his bag and heading toward the elevators. “God knows it won’t be over soon enough,” he added under his breath. 

You

Your empty room was depressing you. Especially since it was all set up to be the honeymoon suite. It was a really nice room, complete with a king sized bed, Jacuzzi tub, and big, open balcony. There were rose petals everywhere, though, the floral smell making you want to gag. You decided you needed to get out. 

More importantly, you needed to get drunk.

You put on one of your new bikinis and checked yourself in the mirror. Your body wasn’t quite where you had wanted it to be before your wedding. Correction: your body wasn’t quite where Matt had wanted it to be before the wedding. You were curvy, but still looked good in the swimsuit. You threw on your cover-up and grabbed your beach bag, walking out the door and heading down to the pool.

You stopped at one of the many bars and ordered yourself a long island iced tea, opting for something a little stronger than your first drink. You ordered an additional shot of tequila, ignoring your inner voice telling you not to. 

I need this, bitch, you told her.

You settled on one of the lounge chairs next to the pool, removing your cover-up and slathering on some sunscreen before reading a magazine while you waited for your drinks to come. 

You looked up from your magazine when you heard the playful joking of a group of guys...well, men was more like it. 

The three men that walked on the other side of the pool were nothing short of gorgeous. 

The tallest one had flowing chestnut hair. You usually didn’t like long hair on guys, but he was totally working it.

The shortest had dark hair and a perfectly lopsided smile. 

The one in the middle, though, had you biting your lip. 

He had disheveled, sandy blonde hair and perfect green eyes that you could see the color of even at your distance. When they found three chairs together, he removed his shirt. 

Your mouth almost started watering. 

He was chiseled, and he had the look of a man that knew how to put in a hard day’s work. 

God, Y/N, get it together. You aren’t here to check out guys. You’re here to heal. 

You forced yourself to look back down at your magazine, ignoring the sound of the men’s splashes as they jumped into the pool. 

Dean

She’s here.

Dean’s eyes were immediately drawn to you, the girl he’d seen by the elevators. Cas and Sam were joking around as the three of them got settled in their chairs, but Dean couldn’t join in wholeheartedly. He was distracted by the sight of you in a bikini.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Sam said, nudging Dean with his elbow.

“She’s by herself. She probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try,” Cas added. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a guys’ trip!”

“I think I speak for both of us when I say that you need to get laid,” Cas said with a smirk. Dean punched him in the arm. 

“You have to admit...you’ve been pretty uptight lately. You should at least give it a shot. Invite her to hang out,” Sam said with an encouraging smile. 

Dean thought about it. He didn’t really want to be on the vacation in the first place. But if he was going to be there, he may as well try to have a good time. Besides, who even knows if you’re single? 

It’s worth a shot.

You

A few minutes later your drinks came, the waiter placing them down next to you. You gave him a small tip so he would keep the drinks coming. 

“You’re not messing around, huh?” you heard from near your feet. You lowered your magazine and saw the guy you were checking out leaning on his forearms at the edge of the pool closest to you. 

You felt your heart pick up a little. Damn, look at that perfect smile.

“You could say that,” you responded before downing your shot. 

“Hmm. My buddies and I will have to play catch-up.” He gave you a crooked smile and you felt yourself smiling back at him.

“And who says you’re invited to my personal drinking party?” you asked cheekily. 

He pulled himself out of the water, causing the muscles in his arms to bulge. You blinked up at him as he came to sit in the lounge chair next to you.

“Dunno. You just seem kinda lonely, I guess.” 

You felt your face fall at that. He wasn’t wrong.

“Well I’m also not so sure about spending time with three strange men.” 

“Well...my name is Dean,” he said, sticking out his hand. You shook it, an eyebrow raised. “That’s my brother Sam,” he said, pointing to the tallest man. “And that’s our friend, Cas.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“See? Not strangers,” he said before giving you a megawatt smile. “C’mon, it’s just one week.”

You thought about what he was saying. You were going to be cautious, of course. But you were only two hours into your vacation and you could already tell that going it alone wasn’t going to work. 

“Okay. But I have conditions.”

Dean gestured with his hand as if to say, “go ahead.”

“Until I feel like I can trust you, we only hang out in public.”

“Smart,” he said, nodding.

“And you guys are buying the drinks,” you said with a smirk. “But only where I can see them. Just in case.”

“Again, smart.”

“And...my name is Y/N.”

He smiled again. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14

@divadinag

@lynne1993

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​

@infj-slytherclaw

@onethirstyunicorn

@sammykb1994

Deanies:

@tftumblin

@deans-baby-momma

@akshi8278

@weepingwillowphoenix

@playingdeep17

@justanotherwinchester

[yanyan1234a-blog]

Guangzhou Joyshine Amusement Equipment Co.,Ltd

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We have our own factories, including professional design team and workers and have established quality control system to meet our customers’ requests. For more information, please contact us freely.https://www.joyshineinflatables.com/

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Moon sells Crawford Farms ranch in Texas in 1999 for a loss of $1.6 million. It was hardly used during 7 years.

▲ Crawford Farms

▲ Crawford Farms

Rev. Moon to auction off Texas ranch

San Antonio Express-News    April 25, 1999 By David Hendricks

One of Texas’ more opulent ranches – Crawford Farms – is on the auction block again. The seller this time is the Rev. Sun Myung Moon of the Unification Church.

Near Carrizo Springs, 90 miles southwest of San Antonio, the ranch was auctioned for $8.1 million seven years ago after the original owner, entrepreneur Don Crawford, poured as much as $30 million into it during the early 1980s.

The winning bidder in 1992 was the Han Corp., a New York-based business that is part of Moon's global business empire. Han Corp. also owns a multimillion-dollar equestrian center in New Jersey.

▲ New Hope Farms, New Jersey. This may now have been sold.

______________________________

The National Auction Group of Gadsden, Ala., will auction the 3,029-acre Crawford Farms estate on May 4 on a no-minimum basis.

“They want someone in Texas to own the ranch,” said William Bone, president of the National Auction Group. “The Rev. Moon said they don’t use it much anymore.”

The South Texas ranch had been used mainly as a family retreat during the past seven years. At times, Moon’s business associates were invited to stay there, Bone said.

Moon visited the ranch about five times, but his children and grandchildren visited more often.

“The ranch was never a haven for a bunch of Moonies,” Bone added. “The Rev. Moon enjoyed his visits. He loved it. They went down there and rode horses. One day he whispered in the ear of his son-in-law, James Park, ‘We ought to sell it. We don’t use it anymore.’

“The Rev. Moon has no concern over price,” said Bone, who was the auctioneer for the 1992 event.

“They said they want to have a big Texas party at the auction, like a big going-away party, just like Crawford did” in 1992, Bone said. “They even want to hire the same mariachi band.”

The 1992 auction was patterned after Crawford’s legendary parties at the ranch, including catered food, champagne and cocktails. When the gavel closed after five minutes of bidding in 1992, Crawford quickly approached Park, who had placed the winning bid, and gave him a hug. ...

“According to the neighbors [of Crawford Farms], the [Moons] never used it for anything. It’s a strange deal,” he said. ...

▲ Crawford Farms is a country estate on 3,000 acres near Carrizo Springs, 115 miles south of San Antonio, Texas. A procession of pecan trees lines the road to the 24,000 square-foot Spanish-style main residence. Nine separate guest houses provide accommodations for up to seventy-five visitors or members of staff. Crawford Farm’s 65,000 square-foot arena, used for indoor training and entertaining, includes grandstands, offices, an electronic scoreboard, forty-one horse stalls, and a “Cantina” with a forty-two foot long bar. The estate also includes fountains, a resort-style swimming pool, a twelve-hundred acre wild game preserve, and a lake and ponds stocked with bass and catfish.

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Crawford Ranch brings $6.5 million

San Antonio Express-News    May 10, 1999 By David Hendricks

Carrizo Springs, Texas – A Houston hospital executive last week agreed to pay $6.5 million for one of the most opulent ranches in Texas, acquiring the sprawling South Texas property from a company owned by the Rev. Sun Myung Moon.

The bidding lasted only seven minutes, with Charles Veldekens of Houston topping Gil Hodges of San Antonio, who bid $6.05 million for Crawford Farms.

The seller of the 3,029-acre ranch outside Carrizo Springs was the New York-based C.F. Han Corp., owned by Moon, who is also leader of the Unification Church.

The Han Corp. bought the trophy ranch in 1992 for $8.1 million when it was auctioned by the original owner and builder, Don Crawford. Crawford spent as much as $32 million to develop the property in the early 1980s.

Over the past seven years, the Han Corp. had financed the property through Crawford, who held a first-position lien. About $4 million remained as a balance.

Moon was not present at the auction, but his son-in-law, businessman James Park, was. He declined to be interviewed.

National Auction Group President William Bone said the property was used by Moon, his children and grandchildren as a horseback-riding retreat. ...

The auction attracted 18 bidders, six more than the 1992 auction, when Moon’s company bought it. The ranch attracted attention because of its football field-sized, Spanish-style main home; its large horse-show barn/arena with a saloon; numerous guest homes; bass lakes and other amenities.

The auction was held in the cavernous den of the main home. Bidding started at $4 million.

The final sales price in the contract will be $6.5 million, with the auction company getting a 7.5-percent sales fee. The sale is expected to close by June 3.

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Further details available here:

https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-874-6kk3q9/3-015-acres-dimmit-county-carrizo-springs-tx-78834#

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In 2001 Sun Myung Moon put in a bid to run the Maronas Racetrack located near Montevideo in Uruguay. At that time it had been closed for three years.

▲ Maronas Racetrack (Hipódromo de Maroñas)

See: Sun Myung Moon wanted to be Lord of 500 slot machines in Uruguay.

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▲ New Hope Farms International Equestrian Park

New Hope Farms International Equestrian Park

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Official: “UTS Barrytown to be Sold” Hugh Spurgin

Chicago mansion owned by UC/FFWPU from 1975 was sold by them in May 2016

Unconfirmed reports of numerous properties being sold: Jacob House, Tiffany Building on 5th Avenue, etc.

Rev Kim purchases a nice house in Seattle – paid for by the local members, and Rev Lee purchases one which he later sells for $450,000.

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Washington, DC, Church congregation to leave the building by June 1, 2018

The congregation of the Washington, DC Church on Columbia Road has been asked to remove itself from the building by June 1st. According to the letter from Rev. Richard Buessing, there are a multitude of safety issues.

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Hak Ja Han’s unused Geomun Island Palace

Geomun Island is situated between Yeosu on the mainland and Jeju Island.