#so for the past 3/4 years it’s been radio silence basically and i’ve just been wondering how she was

[genderqueer-karma]

crying real tears my japanese teacher came back to the states after going back to japan in 2020

[staytiny-present]

Ateez Coraline!au

DUDE I’M DONE WITH SCHOOL WHICH MEANS I CAN WRITE MORE YAYYYY!

anyway, this is meant to be a little headcanon thing for a series i’ve been planning that is, obviously, based on the movie coraline. it’ll be a reader insert for you to enjoy as well :) this is basically a “ateez as characters in coraline,” but my plan is to still make them unique to the story. i hope you like this!

warnings: this does not match at all swearing, angsty situations, borderline crack (you’ll see), i think i make one sex joke, allusions to depression - PLEASE take caution when you read yunho’s part. i don’t think i go into any specifics, but his gets serious that i just want you to be aware

Reader’s backstory: you’ve lived with your grandmother who owns the pink palace apartments since you were a teenager so you can help her out as she gets older. the pink palace isn’t the most well-known, but it’s gotten a pretty negative rap since the disappearance of your best friend in high school. it’s hard living there still, but you know your grandma needs the support. you know nearly all of the ins and outs of the place, and all of the tenants adore both you and your grandma

Wooyoung and Yeosang ~ Spink and Forcible

tell me i’m wrong

that’s right you can’t

they’ve been friends for years and bicker and tease each other like they’re married and still love and support each other? yeah

wooyoung and yeosang are childhood friends

they mostly did dance in high school but they were also in theater, and they were kinda well known for being The Best™

they were recruited to join a lot of teams and a lot of colleges wanted them because they were just??? amazing??? how tf??

so yeah they earned a lot of recognition in high school that honestly got them really famous from when they were 16 onward

it’s been a few years since then and so the hype around them has definitely died down but we’ll get to that

they are currently still working on stuff in regards to dancing and acting

they’re technically in college too, but they do online classes so they can stay at home and work on their shows

wooyoung is the idealist while yeosang is the realist

like i said, they act like an old married couple always bickering and fighting but they really do love each other

ride or die best friends dude

it’s just that they say they’ll do certain things or are planning things soon and it just… doesn’t happen

that’s mostly idealist woo talking before yeosang can reign him in

so for years it’s been a lot of empty promises of new work that many people just stopped expecting things from them

and because of that they’ve past their peak and are basically just in limbo before they are actually able to make/perform their next show or something like that 

they rent the basement apartment of the pink palace, and they’ve technically lived in there the longest actually

growing up, both of their families lived there so that was how they met and became the best of friends :)

they didn’t want to leave either but they had to for a couple years

but at least they stayed together :)

their families moved back when the boys were about a year into high school just because the old woman who owns the place is a gem and the city had a great school for them to go to

while they were living there though a boy around their age went missing, and it basically convinced their families that they should move out

wooyoung and yeosang were very adamant about staying, so their families told them you’re either moving away with us or finding a way to pay for the apartment yourselves

so the next day wooyoung and yeosang went out and found themselves some jobs so that they could

it upset their parents sure, but they were also kinda proud that they took so much initiative about this - they knew they would succeed in life

it also factored into why grandma let them stay because she knew the same thing

the sweet woman even said she would help them out from time to time :(

then cue the next 3-4 years where woo and yeo are making a bunch of money with their dances teams and performing in shows 

they’ve gotten a good amount of money over the years that they’ve been able to renovate the basement so that it’s really nice

now they have posters of their “golden years” (as wooyoung says) from high school and their first years of college all around their place

they have a dog and have been seriously considering getting more because he’s getting kind of old :( 

they don’t really get out much bc they are constantly trying to plan and work on their shows, but it’s fine because there’s nothing really close to the pink palace :/ the closest city where they went to school is quite the commute

but because of all this - the empty promises, the lack of activity, the radio silence - no one really takes them seriously anymore, and really people just stopped believing in them

it’s a major factor in their motivation and work ethic, but they try their hardest not to let it deter them from what they want to do in life

Mingi, San, and Jongho ~ The Amazing Bobinsky

trust me here ok?

mingi, san, and jongho start their own circus right out of high school

hear me out

the boys all went to high school together, but jongho is a year younger than them so they all graduated at different times

however they had a lot of classes together because they didn’t really care much about school and it reflected on their academics

so they were put in a lot of lower classes together that they all did well in, they just didn’t care about school

their circus started out as a joke honestly

it was probably edgy teen jongho who was like “ugh i hate school i should just drop out and join the circus”

and it became a running joke between them like haha yeah let’s join the circus, who would we all be tho?

mingi and san were both very adamant that jongho would be the strongman what with all his fruit breaking endeavors and the buff buff arms dude

san did martial arts and liked dancing and was very flexible so he was like ayy i’ll be the acrobat

it took them a while to decide what mingi would be because they were like “huh well what about the lion tamer?” “you know how much of a fraidy cat he is?” “ok well what about a trapeze artist?” “he’s a great dancer and flexible sure, but would he ever be able to have that kind of coordination?” “ok fine then what about a clown?” “fuck you guys”

they chose sword swallower mostly because like??? how does it work?? idk mingi should find out 

and yeah for a while it was a running joke between all of them like yeah we’re gonna drop out of school and join the circus lol

but then come mingi and san’s senior year and they were like… hang on

could… could we actually do this? it sounds fun as hell

it went as far as them all researching circuses in their spare time and income and how to go about joining one

and it ended with them not wanting to live the lifestyle of a traveling circus 

sure it sounded cool as fuck, but while they were somewhat willing to live with those conditions, they weren’t willing enough

so the next best thing for them would be to start their own circus

of course, how do you tell your parents that what you want to be when you grow up is a circus performer?

the answer: you don’t 

whenever they were asked things likes “oh what do you want to do in college?” they all just kinda passed it off as they didn’t know, but in reality they didn’t really have any desire to go to college

you don’t need a degree to start a circus, so they didn’t really want to

once mingi and san graduated, they immediately started looking for affordable apartments where they could do their thing - start their circus

in all honesty they started looking before they graduated too, partially since they would be moving out after hs but also because they just felt better about not living with their parents 

they had seen the pink palace in the newspaper a lot with a vacant attic apartment, and basically since they found out about it they were sold on it

a weird place in the middle of nowhere run by a woman who doesn’t mind housing younger people? perfect

they actually met her before they graduated so they could see about renting the apartment sooner or later

grandma all but told them it was there’s once she met the boys, and she understands that when they are finally able to start living there they will be pretty tight on money, so she doesn’t even make them pay the down payment - she does that herself and holds the apartment for them

because let’s face it: the pink palace isn’t very big,, it already has a good amount of people living there,,, how many people are actually gonna consider moving to the middle of nowhere to actually live there?

plus she likes these three boys, so she wants to help them as much as she can

so yeah once mingi and san graduate, they are basically ready to move into the pink palace

but this is technically after that boy went missing and after the case turned cold, so grandma doesn’t want to rent to anyone new

but she already assured the boys that the attic was theirs, and she’s not about to break that promise

so before giving the boys the keys she gives them the lowdown of what’s been going on and what will happen in the future

they know the boy went missing, but she explains to them all that happened and that it gives the pink palace a bad rap (even though she hardly cares about that), so she wouldn’t normally be doing something like this but they will be the last people she lets rent from her

and they don’t completely understand because they have no idea what this has been doing to the poor old woman, but they understand enough and are grateful for her that she’s still letting them live there

they decide then that it would be better for jongho to start living with them now even before he’s graduated just so it’s less of a change for grandma in the future

which jongho is totally okay with because he honestly would rather live with them anyway

but uh yeah mingi, san, and jongho are the last ones to start renting at the pink palace for a long while

they split rent three ways so that it’s less burdensome on them, and they all have jobs so that they can afford it

mingi and san work full time while jongho has a part time job while he finishes school

but full time they are all preparing and planning their circus!!

takes a lot of throat training for mingi 😏 since he is literally putting swords down his throat, and he started this basically right when they decided their circus was going to be real

san and jongho have advantages because they already have some skill in their areas, but that doesn’t mean they don’t train

san still takes martial arts and dance, and he’s even signed up for gymnastics to help him with his flexibility

jongho basically spends all of his spare times working out (mostly lifting weights) so that he can really be strong

but also jongho has a thing for rats/mice and is like “hey,, why don’t we use them for something so that it’s not just us?”

and the boys lowkey are like wtf dude why but then again who are they to shut down his ideas when they are literally starting a circus?

so they’re like fine but that’s on you to decide how to do that and to plan the act

jongho: yessss ratssss

also jongho: NO they’re not RATS they’re MICE these are MICE THANK YOU

this is the “jumping mice” aspect of the coraline movie with bobinsky just fyi

a lot of jongho’s time in school is spent in the science and psychology departments talking to teachers about animals (specifically rats/mice) and how to train and work with them

the teachers are all kinda like… what? but also they are just happy that jongho is interested in something enough to come to the teachers and ask questions and apply himself

lmao it’s not for school tho

so he learns a lot of this information at school and honestly this might be the only thing he learns at school because soon enough he’s graduating with a bunch of knowledge on how to work with and train animals

once out of high school he starts working full time too so that money and rent is even easier

all of their extra money that isn’t toward rent and bills and groceries go to their circus

they hardly ever buy new clothes unless it’s something for their circus

also the boys had to go to grandma to ask if they could house mice in their apartment, and while it was a hard no (unless they were trained and wouldn’t cause trouble), jongho still smuggled them in

grandma knows about it too (bc she knows everything that goes on for the most part lmao) but she doesn’t say anything because they don’t cause trouble and she likes the boys

the day one of them gets loose and starts terrorizing and infesting the pink palace is the day she intervenes and tells them to get rid of them

but jongho is actually really good at training the mice so it’s fine

my point surrounding all of this is to say that mingi, san, and jongho are in the long and arduous stage of their lives and their circus of planning and preparing everything

they only make so much money and have so many resources that setting up their circus and doing everything to prepare is going to take a long time before they can actually open and show people what they’ve been working on

they’ve been doing it for a few years now and they’ve still hardly made a dent

they have to train and perfect their acts sure, but they also have to do all of the logistical stuff like advertising, selling tickets, finding venues, paying for safety and legal stuff, etc.

and these boys are only in their early 20s, so it’s gonna take a while before they can actually open their circus

but they are determined and passionate, so if this is what they have to do then they will happily do it

Yunho ~ The Ghost Children

oh god this is gonna start getting serious i’m sorry

in case you can’t tell, yunho is the boy that goes missing from the pink palace

he and his family lived in the pink palace from when he was pretty young until he was in high school

he was also really good friends with wooyoung and yeosang because they were all the same age

however he was... not happy

he always worked his ass off dancing because that’s what he wanted to do, but it meant his grades in school tanked

this would obviously be worrying to some parents, and his gave him an ultimatum

either get your grades up and start taking school seriously, or you’re not going to be allowed to continue your dance lessons

the answer was clear to yunho, so he told his dance teacher that he would be taking a break for a bit so he can focus on school

everything was fine until he realized his parents had zero intentions of letting him go back anyway

he didn’t understand,, his grades were getting better so why couldn’t he go back?

to put it plainly, his parents said this:

“what kind of career could you make out of dance? you’ll never succeed”

it was crushing

it was then that yunho realized that his own parents didn’t care about what he wanted and was passionate about

he didn’t think they ever would either, so he just sort of... stopped believing in them

it wasn’t all bad because he had his closest friends and grandma (who treated him like her own grandson)

but he had some pretty bad days that made the happy and energetic boy almost completely unrecognizable

he would look at wooyoung and yeosang and see how successful they were despite still being in school

he would see how their talent was rightfully recognized and sought after

and he would get down on himself, thinking how he wanted the same thing but fearing no one would see him

that’s why he worked hard at everything he did, why his motivation plummeted, and why he nearly wore himself out before even graduating

but one day he started acting strange

everyone noticed how a switch seemed to flip in him

that excited glimmer was back in his eyes, and no one knew why

don’t get me wrong, everyone was so happy to see the smiley yunho was back, but everyone wanted to know what happened

but he hardly made any sense when he told them

he supposedly found a place in the pink palace where he could do what he wanted, but whenever he tried showing anyone he couldn’t? the door was bricked up

everyone started thinking he made it up, that the stress was finally getting to him and he dreamt up a place like this so he wouldn’t lose his mind

that glimmer was gone again, and he stopped trying to talk to people

in fact, he closed himself off from everyone 

the day he went missing was the scariest day for everyone in the pink palace

everyone was devastated, but it completely changed his parents

grandma advised them to move out while the police investigated, but they refused despite how hard it was

but after a year the case became cold

no one could find yunho nor could anyone figure out what happened to him

he just disappeared without a trace

his parents still tried to stay though because they needed to find out what happened to their son

but they couldn’t. no one could

it wasn’t long before they too found it best that they move out of the pink palace

it was just too painful

that was the last time grandma ever rented to anyone new, so the apartment became completely vacant for years

even after they left, no one was able to figure out what happened to yunho

Seonghwa ~ The Black Cat

geomeun goyangi nero nero nero

uhhhh yeah seonghwa’s a cat lmao

he’s not owned by anyone and doesn’t have a collar or anything

he’s a stray that has been around for a while

he showed up pretty soon after yunho started distancing himself from people, but not soon enough for people to think that he’s an omen or something

and he’s not exactly

idk really how to explain it so i won’t lmao

he just sort of became the pink palace’s cat???

grandma takes responsibility for him though and makes sure he’s fed and has a place to rest and play if he ever feels like it

which is nice and all but he doesn’t?? do any of those things?

he comes and goes a lot sure,,, no one really knows where he goes but they know he’ll be back

but when he hangs out around the pink palace? he just... wanders?

it’s hard to explain but it’s almost like he is surveying the domain, like he’s searching for something wrong

he’s a weird cat

not only that though, but he doesn’t eat? or sleep? at all???

at least no one ever sees him sleeping or eating

he’s always getting into shit tho, like he’s always there when you don’t want him to be

there have been many times wooyoung has kicked him out of the apartment because the dogs hate him

mingi and san also try to keep him out because of jongho and his rats mice, but honestly jongho is pretty cool with him

because he doesn’t do anything to the mice? he literally just sits there and watches with wide and curious eyes

sure jongho worries about hwa one day stealing one of his mice for grandma to see so that she can make him get rid of them or kick them out but that’s not going to happen right?

hwa is chill tho, so jongho is chill

the cat would follow yunho around a lot, and a lot of times they were seen curled up together

yunho would be taking a nap the poor boy but hwa wouldn’t

he would just be there to comfort him :(

honestly he liked yunho and his best friend the most and everyone could tell jongho was a close second tho

they all came to start calling him mars instead of The Cat™ since they didn’t know his name

they still call him The Cat™ when he pisses them off but i digress

despite how fucking weird he is though, everyone at the pink palace basically loves him

he’s just Their Cat™ ok?

sure he might be annoying and shifty, or he might be haunted, or he might even be immortal

he’s a really weird cat dude

but he’s part of the family,, they gotta love him

Hongjoong ~ Coraline

curtesy of inception era hongjoong 

so joong is our main man here

at first he had no relation to the pink palace whatsoever,, he had never even heard of it

he lived with a friend in a fairly large city before and it was fine and all but WOW was it expensive

and it was honestly very stifling to hongjoong,,, he couldn’t really do everything he wanted to do there

he found the pink palace by accident

he was searching up affordable apartments to live in places that have good weather and conditions for gardening

let me explain though

hongjoong is in his downward stretch of college for a journalism degree, but he’s taking online classes with his move so that he can focus on that and working

he wants to work in gardening and writing, but he also really just wants to make stuff

his realistic plan is to work in journalism and write for like a gardening magazine or journal while gardening as a “side project” or something (like coraline’s parents do)

did somebody say florist joong? because i did

the dream job though would be to work in song writing or fashion or something artistic like that

he likes painting and making/customizing clothes so he would like to be able to make a career out of that

his goal is to eventually make his own business or store where he makes and sells affordable and sustainable clothes and accessories

he’s going for a degree in journalism with a minor in business, but he has been struggling with both so he has been debating dropping business

arguably it would be better for him to stick with business but most people in his life have told him he’s better in journalism and so he keeps at that mostly 

he feels unfulfilled - he wants to plant a garden, he wants to make and alter clothes customly, he wants to make music

but he isn’t able to do any of that because what are the odds any of that ends up working as a career? 

it might work for a little while but in the future he would technically be a small business, and maintaining a small business is difficult

at least with writing and working for a magazine/journal is stable

however it’s not what he’s most passionate about, thus he finds it hard to have motivation to work

he feels like a zombie going through his days the same as the last, just trying to get through school before he gets a 9-5 job that he’ll hate within a year (if that) doing something he doesn’t want to do

but hey, that’s adult life, isn’t it? 

he doesn’t like to complain and feels guilty when he is ungrateful for his circumstances because he knows plenty of people (his parents included) that went down this route who ended up fine, which means he will too

the one person who always told him to go after what he wanted was his mom even though she technically “settled” in life

holy shit did i digress

but yeah in his search for an affordable place to live with good weather, there wasn’t a lot 

but he also wanted a drastic change from what he was used to, and that was the pink palace

it was practically in the middle of nowhere, and the pictures (while pretty dull) showed potential for a great garden

it was perfect

however

it was a hard no from grandma when he called about possibly renting, so he wasn’t expecting her to call him back at all

grandma didn’t want to risk anything because of what happened with yunho

but with some convincing, she realized that she couldn’t keep holding on

while what happened was horrible, there was nothing that could be done as sad as it was

so she called hongjoong back about when the best time to come look at the pink palace would be

and the rest is history

[cakesunflower]

Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 4

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

           “Everything alright, kiddo? You were pretty quiet at dinner.”

           Odessa inhaled deeply as Grandpa sat down next to her on the step of the back porch, her blue eyes gazing out to the backyard. Grams’ rose bush was thriving, as was her little vegetable garden with growing tomatoes and red bell peppers. Odessa chewed on her lower lip for a moment, trying to push away some of the weight settled on her chest as she told him, “My dad called earlier today. Said he was in town and he wanted to have lunch tomorrow.”

           The phone call hadn’t been one she had been too glad to have received. Her dad had called her right when she’d gotten into her car after school, and the second his name appeared on the screen, Odessa had gaped at it, wondering if she was imagining things. But it was as real as the vibration of her phone in her hand, as real as his voice on the other end when he asked if they could meet up for lunch the next day. Odessa wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed spent with her just sitting in the parking lot after he had hung up, wondering why in the world he wanted to catch up now, basically giving her no choice in the matter.

           “Wow,” Grandpa sounded, resting his arms on his brought up knees as he glanced down at her. “Are you going?”

           “I talked to Mom about it,” Odessa shrugged, gaze on the way she picked at her burgundy painted nails. “She said at the end of the day it was my choice and she’d be fine with whatever I decide. I still don’t know what that is.” Rolling her lips into her mouth and knitting her eyebrows together, Odessa shook her head. “All I know is that I just—I don’t want any kind of relationship with him.”

           She heard Grandpa take in a breath. “Well, if you end up going with an attitude like that, kid, then it’s not going to be very productive, is it?”

           “Who says I want it to be?” Odessa retorted, the frustration evident in her tone as she glanced up at her grandfather. The frown felt heavy on her face as she scoffed. “I’m perfectly fine with getting birthday and Christmas cards from him. He made his choice when he left to live with his secret family.”

           “I understand, sweetheart,” Grandpa stated, his calm tone contrasting with her sharp, bitter one. Odessa couldn’t help but notice how relaxed her normally straight-backed, sharp eyed grandfather was. That wasn’t surprising—he always had been like that with her, at least. But under the topic of her father, Odessa had figured there’d be some tension in his muscles, a glare in his eyes at the mention of the man who cheated on his daughter and all but abandoned his only granddaughter. “Trust me, I ain’t the biggest fan of your dad’s either, but he’s had time to think over what he’s done. Maybe he’s just trying to make things right. Be your dad again.”

           Odessa scoffed once again, running her tongue along the inside of her lower lip as a gentle breeze tickled her skin. “Yeah, nearly ten years later,” she muttered, twisting the bracelet she wore. Her chest felt heavy, the mere topic of her father churning her stomach as she tried not to fall into the pit of hurt and betrayal she had felt when he first left. Her mom had been so angry and Odessa had been so confused, hurt, and with his call, she was left wondering if she’d moved on from it. “I don’t need a dad again,” she added quietly. “I’ve got you.”

           She felt Grandpa’s arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That you do, kid,” he said with a soft chuckle, rubbing at her arm as Odessa wrapped her arms around his waist. He smelled like tobacco and wood, a combination she’d become so used to and loved. “Listen, Odessa, if you want to go and hear what he has to say, that’s alright. If it’s too much and you decide against it, that’s fine, too. At the end of the day, it’s your decision. You’ve got our support.”

           The next day, Odessa arrived to the cafe about ten minutes before she was meant to meet up with her dad. Those extra minutes were spent sitting in her car, hoping for the music that played loudly through the radio would be enough to distract her from what she was about to do. She’d spent the night before and this morning considering her options, knowing she needed to make her mind up quickly because she was chaperoning the school’s Fall Festival dance later tonight, but kept wondering if showing up to have lunch with her dad would be worth it. Truth be told, she didn’t think it would be.

           She had become an expert in bottling up her feelings, only letting them out in her journal to keep it a secret between the pages. Ten years later and Odessa still hadn’t let her dad know how hurt she was with what he did, how he made both her and her mom feel completely worthless, like they could be so easily replaced—which was what he essentially did. He never even apologized for his actions, not to Odessa at least, and maybe this lunch was his opportunity to do so. But Odessa doubted it would change anything. He did what he did, and there was no going back. Frankly, she couldn’t help but feel she was only going to end up getting hurt by the end of this cursed lunch. She might as well get it over with.

           It was easy to spot her dad in the cafe. He’d aged over the past ten years, of course. With his thick dark hair peppered with gray and silver scruff spread along his chin and jaw. But Odessa still recognized him—though not as the man she’d spent the first fifteen years of her life looking up to. He no longer belonged on that pedestal.

           “You look well, sweetheart.” Odessa pressed her teeth together once she had settled in the chair across from him, biting her tongue to keep herself from telling him not to call her that. It felt wrong. “All grown up,” he added with a short chuckle.

           Yeah, ten years has that effect. “How long are you in town for?” Odessa asked after she’d forced a smile at his statement. The small talk was already starting off awkward, trapped in a bubble of tension amidst the busy cafe.

           “I head back tomorrow,” he answered. “Promised Alex I’d make it back in time for her dance recital.”

           Right. Alex. Her half-sister who was, what, eleven years old by now? Odessa had never met her—or Georgie, her seven year old half-brother—who all lived in Seattle with her dad and his wife, Louisa—the woman he’d been cheating on her mother with. Frankly, Odessa didn’t want to know them, or have any kind of relationship with any of them. Although she knew she couldn’t blame the kids, Odessa still harbored resentment towards her father and his new family—towards Louisa, who knew fully well that he was a married man with a daughter and yet still stayed with him, had a kid with him.

           It wasn’t often Odessa took the time to think about them, but when she did, her blood boiled, threatening to give into a reaction far more explosive than she’d like.

           Before Odessa could say anything, a waitress appeared, asking if they were ready to order. She barely glanced at the menu, eyes catching the option of buffalo macaroni and cheese, which was what she decided on. She wasn’t that hungry, the nerves of sitting across from a man she hadn’t seen in so long killing her appetite.

           “So, uh,” Odessa spoke up, clearing her throat as she glanced around the cafe. They were sat by a window, giving them a view of the busy Los Angeles foot traffic. “Why’d you want to meet?”

           She didn’t miss the way his smile faltered, probably wishing for the small talk to continue some more. But it had been difficult for Odessa to show up to the cafe, to find the courage and pride to accept his offer in the first place. She just kind of wanted to get this over with.

           “Well, uh,” her dad cleared his throat, sitting up in his seat. “I was in town for some business and I remembered you’re staying with your grandparents so I just—I wanted to catch up.”

           Oh, right. The only reason he knew she was living in Los Angeles was because of their yearly phone calls. That’s what he did. He’d sent her a birthday card with some money and then on her actual birthday gave her a call. They’d talk for a couple of minutes, she’d answer his questions without asking any of her own, and that was it. Last year he’d asked her how teaching back in Ely was going, and she mentioned she had taken a job in Los Angeles and was moving there a few weeks later. The fact that he remembered that—it didn’t do anything for Odessa, honestly. She realized, not for the first time, that she didn’t care if he remembered any details about her or her life. She felt numb to it.

           “Right,” Odessa said, not entirely ready to dive into an uncomfortable silence, so she forced herself to ask, “How are Alex and Georgie?”

           Odessa couldn’t help the way her fingers curled into fists under the table as her dad started talking about her half siblings. How Alex was really into dance and Georgie was showing a lot of interest in baseball. How they were so smart for their ages, so funny. Odessa noticed the light in his hazel eyes when he spoke of them, the love he had for them, and she was left wondering if he ever spoke of her that way. When he met people back in Seattle, did he only ever mention Alex and Georgie? Had he ever brought up his daughter from his first marriage—the college graduate, the teacher? Was he proud of her accomplishments the way he was theirs?

           Did she want him to be?

           No, she realized, she didn’t. But the envy still burned her veins—not that her half siblings were receiving the father that had belonged to her first, but that they wouldn’t have had him in the first place had he not stepped out on Odessa’s mom—on her. They apparently weren’t enough for them, so he found something more.

           As Odessa ate her food, more so she was distracted momentarily than feeding a lack of hunger, her father asked, “How’s your mother?”

           She heard the hesitation in his voice and her grip on her spoon tightened. Keeping her gaze on her bowl, she responded, “She’s good. Fell back in love with being a flight attendant.” With a slight scoff, Odessa added, “I guess everyone needed a change.”

           “So she left to fly around the country without anyone to look after you?” Her dad scoffed. “That’s—”

           “No, she didn’t,” Odessa snapped, her tone hardening as her gaze narrowed into a glare directed at the silenced man across from her. She wasn’t about to sit there and let her dad scoff at her mom—who gave him the right? “She waited until I left for college because you weren’t there to look after me, were you?”

           There had been a lid on her anger, one that instantly burst off the second her dad tried to paint her mother as a villain. Odessa wasn’t going to let that happen, not in a million years. If there was a villain in this story, it was the man sitting across from her.

           He put down the sandwich he’d been eating, jaw tightening briefly as he started, “Odessa—”

           “No—what gives you the right to look down on Mom for restarting her career?” Odessa questioned sharply. She kept the level of her voice even, not one to cause a scene in a busy Los Angeles restaurant, no matter how pissed off she was getting. It was only a matter of time until she did, anyway. Her dad just casually trying to insult her mother was not going to sit right with Odessa, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to stand for it. “She needed to do something after the shit you pulled.”

           Odessa could tell that he was figuring out that he was losing control of the situation, losing whatever little patience she had for him. He inhaled sharply as he leaned forward. “Look, I know what I did was wrong, but—”

           “Wrong?” Odessa repeated with an incredulous scoff, shaking her head at him as her eyes narrowed in contempt. “Are you even sorry that you cheated on Mom? That you completely walked out on your family for a newer model?” She put down her spoon, her already wavering appetite completely gone with a churn of her stomach. “Call it a choice or a mistake, whatever makes you feel better, but you—”

           “It wasn’t a mistake.” His words silenced Odessa, her voice dying in her throat as she looked at him, eyebrows drawn together as his hazel eyes met her blue. Her throat tightened when he continued, “If I said it was a mistake, then that’d be like saying my kids were mistakes—which they aren’t. I love my family, Odessa, and I’m sorry that their existence came from hurting you and your mother—but I will never say they’re mistakes.”

           His words felt like a slap to her face, enough to make her eyes sting with frustrated, hurt tears she refused to let fall. She knew this would end up hurting her. Knew that whatever he had to say would not be what she wanted to hear—which she didn’t even know was what. Logically, Odessa knew it was unfair to get him to admit to his mistakes, his choices, if it meant bad mouthing his kids. But Odessa would be lying if she said she would be satisfied to hear it. Now, to know—to have it be confirmed—that he was happy, content with his new family after destroying the one he had at first, had Odessa realizing that she was so better off without him. She didn’t want him or his damn birthday cards. She didn’t want to know about Louisa or Alex or Georgie—she didn’t care.

           Fifteen years with her father was all she was going to get. And Odessa would rather visit those memories, if she ever wanted to, than give another thought to him or his new family now.

           She’d gotten an apology. A shitty, backhanded one, and she knew that was all he was capable of.

           “Wow,” Odessa finally sounded, the word accompanied by an empty laugh as she leaned back in the chair. Gaze meeting his somewhat apologetic, yet stern, one, she gave a shake of her head and mused dryly, “Aren’t you just father of the fucking year?”

           His eyebrows drew together, the situation lost. “Odessa—”

           She was already grabbing her bag, uncaring of the food she’d barely eaten as she stood up, successfully holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “You can hold off on the birthday and Christmas cards—they end up in the trash, anyway.”

*****

           Something was weighing down on Odessa, and Calum couldn’t ignore the need to help her—not that he’d ignore that instinct in the first place. She looked troubled the moment she arrived into the transformed cafeteria, tables set up in a way to provide a dance floor in the middle, and decorated with pumpkins and leaves and streamers of the orange, red, and yellow variety. String lights had been set up along the ceiling and on the tables with the food, providing a soft glow throughout the room, but it didn’t do much to hide the trouble that danced across her features, which Odessa failed to hide behind the smiles she offered everyone else.

           She had greeted him briefly, which was when Calum had noticed something was off, but Odessa had quickly been pulled away by Justine Greggs, gone with a flutter of the long, deep red dress she wore that made her blue eyes pop.

           But Calum had realized, amidst chatting with a few of his students, that Odessa wasn’t around, that he hadn’t been able to spot her for a while, and he couldn’t help the furrow of his eyebrows as he glanced around while approaching Justine. “Hey, Justine,” he greeted the AP Lit teacher, offering her a smile as he asked, “D’you know where Odessa is?”

           “Oh,” Justine blinked before her gaze wandered around in search for the woman in question before finally looking at Calum and saying, “Well, she told me she was going to the bathroom, but that was a few minutes ago.”

           Calum nodded, an absent, “Alright, thanks,” slipping past his lips before he turned to walk in direction of the doors, exiting the cafeteria and heading towards the nearest bathrooms.

           But to get there he had to pass the teachers lounge, and he would’ve walked right past it, too, if it weren’t for the single light on inside that caught his attention. He came to a quick stop, eyebrows subtly drawn together as he neared the door that was ajar, finding exactly who he was looking for seated on the couch, gazing out the window into the dark courtyard.

           She hadn’t noticed him enter the room, facing the window with her arms folded on top of the back of the couch, legs folded as the skirt of her long dress spread on her lap, the heels of her shoes just barely poking out. For the moments she didn’t notice him, Calum took the opportunity to admire the glow of the lamp against her, mixed with the soft moonlight filtering through the window she was peering out of. Odessa was lost in deep thought, unaware of his presence as he took a tentative step forward, hesitant on disturbing her and the silence she was finding comfort in.

           Except it had been difficult for Calum to ignore the troubled look she had worn upon her arrival, itching at him to make sure she was alright because that’s what friends did, right? And they were friends. Just friends. But he wouldn’t focus on that now.

           Licking his lips, Calum finally spoke up, gently, “Odessa?” He heard her release a small gasp at the sound of his voice, head instantly turning towards him before her shoulders relaxed upon realizing who was in the room with her. Calum offered her a small, somewhat sheepish smile as he slowly approached her, watching as she let out a breath while he asked, “What’s going on? You alright?”

           “Yeah, yeah—crap, sorry,” she said through a nervous chuckle, shifting so her lower back leaned against the arm rest of the couch. She looked up at him, a sheepish smile on her face as she said, “I didn’t mean to disappear.”

           When she made a move to get up from the couch, Calum held his hand out to stop her. “Hold on, hold on—I’m sure a couple of more minutes won’t hurt.” Odessa relaxed as he sat down on the couch as well, left elbow propped up on the top of the couch as he got a closer look at her. She kept pursing her pink lips, the subtlest of frowns on her face above downcast eyes. Calum didn’t like seeing her so. . . Off. “What’s bothering you?”

           “Life?” Odessa answered with a dry chuckle and Calum’s lips quirked, recognizing her feeble attempt of deflection. She let out a long sigh, running her fingers through her dark hair to push is back. She looked out the window, jaw working momentarily. “I had lunch with my dad today—it went as well as you’d expect.”

           Calum’s expression fell, teeth pressing together as he gazed at the furrow between her eyebrows. He knew from what Odessa had told him that she didn’t have a good, or any, relationship with her father ever since he left her and her mom. Judging by how down she looked, lunch hadn’t been gone over too well. “I’m sorry about that.”

           She clicked her tongue, waving him off. “Nothing to be sorry about,” she responded with a shrug. “I knew it was only going to upset me but I went anyway. It was a stupid decision.”

           Calum was silent, unable to smooth out the crease in his eyebrows as he watched her profile. He didn’t think anything he could say to Odessa would help. He was lucky enough to have a good relationship with both of his parents, though they were divorced as well. And as difficult as it had been to watch their marriage fall apart when he was young, his parents didn’t let it affect their individual relationships with Calum. Knowing Odessa wasn’t as lucky as he was in the matter had his chest tightening, the need to help out his friend great but the inability of doing so unsettling.

           “I think,” Calum slowly spoke up, picking his words carefully as Odessa glanced at him. He offered a small, encouraging smile. “I think what you need right now is to get your mind off of it, instead of sitting by yourself and letting your thoughts weigh you down.” Odessa quirked an eyebrow as Calum got to his feet, putting on a smile for her as he offered his right hand. “Let’s dance.”

           He watched her blue eyes glance down at his hand before meeting his gaze, something flickering in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. Calum briefly wondered if it was hesitance, but as quickly as that look in her eye appeared, it was gone. It seemed Odessa came to a silent decision over something, allowing for a smile to quirk on her lips as she placed her hand in his, and Calum felt a relaxed smile grow as he tightened his hold to allow her to shift her legs, dress in mind, before standing.

           Calum reluctantly let her hand go, immediately missing the warmth of her touch as they made their way out of the teacher’s lounge, flexing his fingers as he allowed for Odessa to walk out first before following her after shutting the light off.  They wandered down the hall towards the cafeteria, the muffled music growing louder the closer they got to it, and right as they entered the crowded room, the song changed into one Calum recognized as Finally / Beautiful Stranger by Halsey, and he felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

           “Right on time,” he hummed, earning an amused raise of an eyebrow from Odessa, before her gaze dropped to his hand, which he offered her once again. “Shall we?”

           She smiled, sweet and pretty, accepting his hand for a second time as he led her to the center of the room where many students had paired off, even some teachers. His left hand gripping her right, Calum rested his right hand on Odessa’s hip as her other rested on his shoulder, and he could pick up on the way her lips curled up in a small, shy smile as they both swayed to the ballad playing through the cafeteria.

           He tried not to focus too much on their proximity, this closeness between them new and familiar all at once. He tried to keep his attention on their movements, and not on how this kind of closeness with Odessa was something he had been silently wanting. Calum bit the inside of his cheek, willing those thoughts away. They were just friends, colleagues—he couldn’t be thinking of her this way, couldn’t be thinking of her as anything more than what she was. Despite her smile making his heart race, her laugh hitching his breath, her touch sending electricity shooting through his veins—Calum shouldn’t dive deeper into whatever feelings he was developing.

           But, God, he couldn’t help it. Because the more he got to know her, the harder it was to keep himself from falling for Odessa. And how couldn’t he? She was proving herself to be everything he looked for in a woman, and more.

           “Thanks, Calum,” she murmured, blue eyes lifting to meet his dark ones. The appreciation danced in her eyes and being this close to her, Calum was teased by the fruity scent that delightfully clung to her. If he were to guess, he’d say it was watermelon, which he found himself enjoying. When she noticed the subtle raise of his eyebrow, she continued, “For dragging me out of the lounge. I’m kind of irritated I let it get to me at all.”

           Calum clicked his tongue. “No need to thank me, Essa.” He wasn’t quite sure when he started calling her that, having heard Luke utter it a couple of times, but soon enough it was slipping from Calum’s lips and she didn’t seem to mind, so it stuck. “I think it’s perfectly normal for you to feel like that—just know that I’m here to listen.”

           Her smile was grateful, soft in her features, and the sight of it had a beat or two of Calum’s heart skipping. He meant what he said—he enjoyed this relationship he and Odessa had fallen into, a camaraderie during school hours and a genuine friendship outside of it. It was easy to talk to her, to joke around, the two of them finding a rhythm far quicker than Calum would have ever expected to. Getting drinks with her and everyone else on the weekends was relaxing, but so was finding Odessa in the teacher’s lounge during their lunch breaks and chatting about their lesson plans and their favorite novels that aren’t on the roster to teach their students. He’d get to know her as every day passed, finding out that the favorite writer she taught was Edgar Allan Poe and a certain professor in college made her develop a hatred for Herman Melville. He didn’t blame her—he preferred Nathaniel Hawthorne’s works, himself.

           “I appreciate it all the same,” Odessa told him. Calum kept the smile on his face, despite feeling the breath silently hitch in his throat when she gave his hand a grateful squeeze. Then, with a gentle laugh, she teased, “You’re a solid work-husband.”

           He grinned, the warmth of her smile sinking into his skin as they continued swaying to the gentle melody of the song. Calum couldn’t help but think chaperoning school dances just got a whole lot better with Odessa with him.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @astroashtonio @loveroflrh @softforcal @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace​ @socorroann​ @talkfastromance4​ @calumftduke​ @musichoney​ @treatallwithkindness​ @partlysunnycal​ @dead-and-golden​ @kaeleykaeley​ @harrys-sun-flower​ @br-hoe​ 

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 22)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Janus, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Meanwhile, everyone else is trying to find a missing 15 year old, all with different pieces of the puzzle about where he is. It really is too bad that no one is answering their phones.

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions, car crashes (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 My Master Post

Janus did not respond to Roman’s quip about the car. Instead, he shoved past Roman the second he heard the boy’s voice. Roman recognized the kid immediately from the pictures he’d been sent along with his mission directives.

“Virgil,” Janus said, crossing the room to get to his little brother without regard to anything else. “Thank god. Are you alright?” He grabbed his face and titled it as though to look for injuries. Nothing about what Roman had learned about Janus in the past few hours would have prepared him for the way he descended directly into mother-hen mode, cupping the boy’s face with delicate fingers.

He was even less prepared for when Virgil shoved his hands away with an eye roll and a “I’m fine, Janus,” and Janus immediately started to cry.

Janus pulled Virgil into a hug, and Roman winced in sympathy for Janus’s injured ribs when the kid hugged him back tightly. They should really get that checked out as soon as the two of them had their moment.

“I’ve been worried sick about you,” Janus said, voice all types of wrecked. The past few hours of worry that Janus had kept careful hold of lashed out suddenly, and it was even more than Roman had anticipated. “I showed up to the house, and you were gone, and the window was broken.” Virgil was getting a bit wobbly lipped himself, and Roman couldn’t exactly blame him with how gutted Janus sounded. “Where did you go? How did you get here? How did you know to come here? Did Logan send someone else after you?”

“Dad let the name slip,” Virgil explained, “and Mom sent someone to pick me up, but I’d already accidently heard that she’d killed him with the radio Dad keeps in his room. So, I really didn’t want to go with the man, and he was mean especially when I said no.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke, and he too started crying. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. At first, I just wanted to get out of the city so Mom couldn’t find me. Once I was out, I decided to try to get here because dad said he worked with the owner, and no one was answering their phones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Janus said. “That was my fault. I broke my phone. I should have thought about you wanting to call me.” He pulled back to kiss Virgil ever so gently on the forehead.

“Hey, what gives,” another man said, and Roman blinked and actually looked at the other occupants of the room. Both Dad and Uncle Patton were there along with a man he didn’t recognize. Yet, his attention was quickly drawn to the speaker because that was Remy Gates and Remy was definitely supposed to be dead. “I was dead, and I didn’t even get that much of a heartfelt reunion.” Janus seemed to freeze for a moment and then turned to him.

There was a long almost painful moment of silence where Janus just stared blankly at Remy. Roman recalled the short conversation that Remus and Janus had in the car about Remy and how Janus was probably more upset about the man’s death than he was allowing himself to express. Remus clearly had known what he was talking about, because there was a stunned, surprisingly vulnerable look on Janus’s face as he looked at his brother’s father.

Remy casually put his hands in his pockets. “Sup, kid.”

Roman had never seen someone’s face change so dramatically so quickly. His face twisted up into a scowl and his eyes lit up with fury. He looked like he was about to finish the job for his mother.

“You bastard,” Janus spat. “You bastard, you aren’t even dead?”

Remy seemed unconcerned with the fact that the man was basically foaming at the mouth. “You sound disappointed.”

“Do you know how much stress and hurt you caused… Virgil?!”

“Virgil, huh?” Remy asked, and goodness the man must have a death wish. “Don’t worry, Virgil and I already worked that out. I’m going to teach him how to shoot a gun as an apology.”

“No! You aren’t!” the man next to Remy that Roman didn’t recognize said.

“Like that is a sufficient apology for all that duress! How could you?!

“It wasn’t exactly my plan, Jan,” Remy drawled.

“Remy please,” the man next to Remy said.

“Oh, well, pray tell, what the hell was your plan you absolute ignorant, wretched excuse for a human being?” Janus asked.

“Janus please,” the man said.

“Just let them do it, Uncle Emile,” Virgil said with a sigh.

Remy scoffed. “Oh, please,” he said. “There was no plan, obviously. Do you know me at all?”

Janus full on exploded in rage at that. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Where do you get off on being such an idiot all of the time? You have a 15-year-old child and you just waltz into danger like it’s nothing and almost die! I thought you were dead!”

And like, seriously, Remy really must be comfortable with the concept of his own demise after whatever had happened to him earlier, because all he said was, “What, would you have missed me?”

“No,” Janus said, far too intense for that to be the truth. In fact, tears started to prickle at the corner of his eyes.

“Aw,” Remy cooed, still mocking, but perhaps just a bit gentler now. He walked the couple of steps to Janus and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t cry, kid. I’m okay. I promise.”

“I’m not crying,” Janus insisted even though his voice cracked a bit and the tears were starting to escape out of the corners of his eyes. He attempted to push Remy away, but his efforts were weak and easily resisted. He gave up a moment later. “You’re crying!”

“I’m really not,” Remy said with a chuckle.

“You will be if you don’t shut up and let go of me,” Janus insisted even though when Remy tugged him closer into a proper hug, he folded himself into the embrace like a small child and proceeded to cry into the man’s shoulder.

Well that was… an event. Roman didn’t know what to think about Janus at this point. He’d been cold, calculating, and scary at the beginning of their adventure, and now he was sobbing into a man’s arms.

“Aw, there it is,” said Remus cheerfully.

Janus didn’t look at him, but just pulled one of his arms out of the embrace to flip him off.

“As touching as this is,” Dad interjected. “Now that everyone is here and aware that no one is dead.” He looked specifically in Remus and Roman’s direction. The expression on his face was one Roman was very familiar with from his childhood. Roman grimaced even before Dad continued with, “Would anyone care to explain themselves?” in a dark tone.

Uh oh.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 23

[echoeternally]

Currently Updating ENY

Forgot to post on here about it, but I am currently writing up Chapter 50 for my Super Mario fanfic, Eternally Never Yours. I’ve been writing it for well over a month now (on and off, of course).

The story chapter I’ve got so far is over 13k, and has 2/6 sections completed, while I’m in the middle of the 3rd. I’m trying to give each part a good amount of development time, so that things happen. (I’m also trying to make cohesive shifts and back-and-forth flip-flops between character perspectives, so a lot goes on at once this time.)

Since so much is going on in this chapter, I’m going back and forth across a large portion of the story to check different details, either making sure that they line up or that I’m not contradicting myself. I do have notes, but nothing really beats double checking the work itself.

It’s been a few months since I’ve updated, and I somehow thought that I was going to get it done last month, which turned out to be laughable in hindsight. I want to get it done for this month too, but I’m afraid that my progress is rather slow, so I’m not certain of that either.

But, I don’t want to remain silent about it, so that’s why I’m putting this post up on my blog. It’s coming, I’m just slow and tired, so, it doesn’t fire out. Oh, and my “quarantine time” ended pretty much when the summer kicked up last year (as in my job started again, and my free time decreased a lot). I’d rather not be out at all to stay safe (and I hate going out anyway), but I need money.

(I think I posted a lot of one-shots as supplement, especially Bowser/Mario content, and I was concentrating my larger portions of free time on my Pokemon fanfic’s finale, which took 5 years to get to, so that was important for me, lol. Hence the slow follow-up from the last chapter.)

Anyway, just putting this out there so that people don’t panic or get annoyed with waiting on radio silence. I had a “where’s the update?” message about it a little over a month ago too (I was like, “just started, calm down,” lol), so I don’t want that coming out en masse.

And I’ve been posting a lot of Pokemon content the past month too, which isn’t me ignoring ENY, but it is so I can continue the story for that, which is told a bit differently. (I’m basically setting up “Book 3/4″ for that series, vs ENY being told as a complete sequence when that would realistically be midway into “Book 4″ itself. And that has an ending planned, but I’m not holding myself to a specific number of “books” on that.)

Phew! Ok, that’s what I’ve got going on for now, and my snow day gave me time to make this idea in my head so I could go, “Oh yeah, I should talk about that.” So, there it is! More is on the way for this year, but I’m working slow. It will come though, so, thank you for your continued patience, and stay tuned!

[nana-talks]

radio silence, a review

basics book: radio silence by alice oseman form: physicall + audiobook (first half) rating: 3.5 stars

review i think most of the reason i didn’t rate it higher was just because i read it at the wrong point in my life. i would have identified a lot more with the characters and their struggles if i had read it in 2015 and maybe even in 2016, when i just started university. i’m 23 now so i find most of their struggles just a trigger for past experiences, making me feel anxious and stressed, instead of feeling seen or heard. but i think the struggles depicted are still so relevant and real for so many people, which is why i think it’s a good read for teenagers (high schoolers and freshmen in university, mainly).

some of the discussions i thoroughly enjoyed on the book (and reasons why i rated it 3.5 stars):

1. friendships i, too, have no friends - just friend groups that know me for a part of me. i, too, had a friend like Aled who matched my entire persona to a T. but i’m not friends with that person anymore. and i wonder if i’ll ever find someone like that again. it’s funny ‘cause the older you get, the more you realize most friend groups are just like that - even the ones you think are perfect. it’s rare to find a friend like Aled. and maybe i just missed my chance.

2. hobbies “Every time I thought I’d worked out what I really enjoyed, I started to second-guess myself. Maybe I just didn’t enjoy anything any more.” wow. that hit home SO CLOSELY i almost flinched when i read it. i had to stare into the distance inside my bedroom for around 5 minutes before i could continue. i stared at all the posters i’ve been considering tearing down, how i have been doing that for so many years now - i wonder if i still like anything.

3. Raine her discourse on how Aled shouldn’t be unhappy because his life is perfect was still so relevant even in 2020. you’d think we’d have gotten over this idea that lives can be perfect, but we haven’t. i found her words so incredibly hurtful, i literally clenched my fingers while reading it. now, i think it was a knee-jerk reaction at the sight of something i still do, to this day. i think other people’s lives are better than mine therefore i can be sad, they can’t. but the thing is, i don’t know their lives and depression doesn’t need a reason to exist.

4. Daniel and Aled wow that relationship caught me completely off guard. not because i didn’t see it coming, ‘cause i certainly did, but because i felt so vulnerable reading off Daniel’s thoughts after the Cambridge interview. it felt like reading my own thoughts on paper. “I’m just someone he kisses sometimes.” hurt like a fucking bitch. i know that feeling and i hated that feeling.

overall, i think Radio Silence has a lot of potential to be something really special for other people. it just wasn’t that for me, and that’s okay. i guess i just thought it would be because i still find it hard to think of myself and see myself as a 23 year old instead of a 15 year old. but the fact that i didn’t feel that special connection made me realize that i’m not that young anymore, and i wasn’t expecting that.

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2006

17 to 18 years old. First to second university year, studying History. Another slightly chaotic year, to be honest.

It’s yet another great year for hits, even if 2005 and 2007 are both even better.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

At this point it was beginning to be clear that my mother wanted me out of the appartment as quickly as possible so staying at home was becoming more and more unpleasant. I basically spent most of my day outside or at the library when I wasn’t in class, then ate dinner and slept at home. I had a few friends at university but was very unpopular (by the start of the second year, my nickname was “the hobo”, mostly because I was always wearing the same old black coat and bad jeans, but also because I liked to fish for coins under vending machines cause I had next to no money). I also had a brief but extremely bad relationship that year, which ended with me punching the dude back after he punched me between two classes near the end of the year.

While making these lists I found a tape labelled “spring 2006″ and nothing else. I think it’s one of the last tapes I ever made.

After listening to it, it contained:

Mr Brightside (The Killers) (who’s surprised?)

Crazy, by Seal, but sung by a woman. No idea who that is. (Edit: Alanis Morissette! thank you purplecyborgnewt)

Alice & June (Indochine)

You And Me (Lifehouse)

A couple of seconds of Precious, Depeche Mode

Oui (Zazie)

Precious (Depeche Mode) again. A radio host states it’s the n°15 favorite song on Europe 2 that week, whichever week that was.

City of Blinding Lights (U2)

Nolwenn Ohwo (Nolwenn Leroy)

Fragment of Song to Say Goodbye (Placebo), then the entire song.

The ending of Talk (Coldplay), followed by another fragment of Talk

Juste Après (Fredericks, Goldman & Jones)

Talk (Coldplay), this time in its entirety (I can still smell the frustration more than 13 years away)

Broken (Seether)

Enjoy the Silence 2004 (Depeche Mode)

Fragment of Missing (Evanescence), followed by nearly the entire song

Jeune et Con (Saez)

A bit of a radio show I found funny

An obscure remix of Sans Contrefaçon (Mylène Farmer).

So yeah, I stopped making tapes around that time. I also only bought two cd singles that year.

Just like the previous year, some of my favorite albums from that year have exactly zero singles elligible for this list. They are Alice & June by Indochine, and Meds by Placebo. The worst part? One of the best songs on Indochine’s album is a goddamn duet with Brian Molko from Placebo. It’s called Pink Water and it’s great. Please listen to it if you don’t know it yet. What can I say, I’m a weak and simple person, I hear a duet between two singers I adore, and I die instantly.

Anyway. Meds is kind of underrated as far as Placebo’s discography goes and I’m especially fond of Infrared, which was one of the songs of the year for me. Indochine’s Alice & June, meanwhile, is a concept double album about two girls making a suicide pact. It’s a bit of a mess and it’s not as tight as Paradize was but it’s still really, really good for the most part. The first eponymous single should have been elligible. But it isn’t. I’m sad.

On to the honorable mentions!

So Sick (Ne-Yo) - Usually this kind of music just sounds bland to me, but that one was really pleasant.

Miracle (Cascada) - Not as good as Everytime we touch. Still a lot of fun.

Smack That (Akon) - This shouldn’t be this catchy.

Pump It (Black Eyed Peas) - Same here.

Living On Video (Pakito) - I only just now realised this was a cover. What the hell.

SOS (Rihanna) - Not her best song. Still good.

L’Amour N’est Rien (Mylène Farmer) - Really funny lyrics, meh song.

World Hold On (Bob Sinclar) - Stay tuned for more.

Hips Don’t Lie (Shakira) - Song of the summer, whether you liked it or not. Fortunately, I liked it a lot.

Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol) - Very pleasant.

SexyBack (Justin Timberlake) - That beat is just incredible.

Call Me When You’re Sober (Evanescence) - I remember Rock Mag finishing their KarmaCode (Lacuna Coil) review with “We hope Evanescence’s next album will be fantastic, because this is their most serious rival yet.” And nope, Evanescence’s album wasn’t nearly as good as KarmaCode. But this song still made the year-end list, while nothing from Lacuna Coil ever crossed over. Our Truth SHOULD have been a huge hit. It had a ton of crossover appeal. One of the biggest musical tragedies of the year right there. Oh well, the Evanescence single is still good though.

Say It Right (Nelly Furtado & Timbaland) - The last cut from the list, and when you’ll see what replaced it, you are going to hate me.

And now, the top ten.

10 - Everytime We Touch (Cascada)

US: #31 / FR: #5

This kicked Nelly Furtado off the list.

I am not sorry, just so you know.

9 - Ridin’ (Chamillionaire)

US: #8 / FR: Not on the list

This is a song about respecting the law and driving at a reasonable speed and cops being mad because they can’t do anything against you. He’s a gangster, just... not doing anything illegal at the moment. I absolutely adore that concept. This is the best.

8 - Crazy (Gnarls Barkley)

US: #7 / FR: #29

I’ve never met someone who disliked this song, and for that reason I have nothing to say about it. It’s just one of these tunes, like Hey Ya, which are too perfect to argue or say anything constructive about them.

7 - Temperature (Sean Paul)

US: #2 / FR: #48

Half of this top ten 10 is made of absolute bangers with untouchable beats and you know what, I really miss that time, mostly because the current charts are morose and depressed (for good reasons, but still). This is no Get Busy, but come on, who can say we need less Sean Paul in our lives? Not me that’s for sure.

By the way, one of the very first videos I saw on (the very new at the time) youtube was a misheard lyrics version of this song. I think you all know which one it is, the original has been deleted but it was reuploaded several times since then.

6 - Rock This Party (Bob Sinclar & Cutee B)

US: Not on the list / FR: #19

You really can’t go wrong with this “Everybody dance now” sample, and this is one seriously kickass song, and yet another banger on a list already full of them. Also, this was possibly the best music video of the entire year, featuring three kids trying to imitate music videos from just about every popular genre. Check it out if you’ve never seen it, it will make your day.

5 - Marly-Gomont (Kamini)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1

Possibly the most unexpected hit song of the decade in my country. Basically, this guy made a rap song about the tiny rural village he was living in, and a funny music video shot on a 100€ budget to show to his friends and family. And it was well written. And it was hilarious, while still being insightful. And it became a viral sensation. And it charted! And suddenly it became the biggest hit of the year.

If you’ve never heard it, here it is. There was no translation available for it on lyricstranslate, so I made an account just to translate it myself. You’re welcome. Please give it a try. It’s great. It was a hit for a good reason, and I promise you the music video is funny even if you don’t speak the language.

4 - Slipping Away/Crier la Vie (Mylène Farmer & Moby)

US: Not on the list / FR: #15

So, uh, earlier in this post I said “What can I say, I’m a weak and simple person, I hear a duet between two singers I adore, and I die instantly.”

This is a duet between Mylène Farmer and Moby, based on a song from Hotel, which, if you recall, I listened to on a loop the previous year.

My poor heart didn’t need this. What did I do to deserve this. What a blessing.

3 - Over My Head (Cablecar) (The Fray)

US: #13 / FR: Not on the list

This was my #1 at some point. Then I realised the version I kept listening to was a punk rock version by A Day To Remember from Punk Goes Pop, and that I had nearly forgotten what the original sounded like. So I listened to it, and it’s still very, very nice, but it’s not quite the same.

I still bought the album, though.

2 - Nolwenn Ohwo (Nolwenn Leroy)

US: Not on the list / FR: #43

I had completely (and I do mean completely) forgotten about this song until I started to check the French year-end top 100 to make this list. Erased from my mind entirely by some sort of MiB neuralyser. And I was like “hang on, wasn’t this a good song? This rings a bell. I used to love it, didn’t I?” (and sure enough, it’s on that 2006 tape I found). So I wrote it down for the honorable mentions, just in case.

Before making the definitive list, I put the song on, and I felt like the critic in Ratatouille having a flashback.

Holy. Shit.

I remembered ALL the lyrics. While listening to it, in under three minutes I successively put it in the 6th spot, then the 4th, and when it ended, it was #2 on the list. I downloaded it and put it back on my mp3 player and on my playlists. I’ve listened to it about 30 times in the past week. It’s so great. How did I ever forget this song existed. I feel so alive.

I never cared about this singer, but this is written by Laurent Voulzy, who’s music I actually love, and he’s firing on all cylinders here. Just listen to it. Please.

It could have easily topped the list if it wasn’t for the most useful and helpful song in the entire year.

1 - Pas le Temps (Faf Larage)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

I never watched a single episode of Prison Break. This was the French version of the opening song. I don’t even know what happens in the series. I don’t really care.

I. Adore. This song. It’s yet another #1 that helped me a lot.

The beat is untouchable and this rap is actual poetry. Not even remotely kidding. Here’s a part of one of the verses.

Aussi loin que la lumière semble s'éteindre (As far as the light seems to flicker) Seule une étincelle au fond de moi peut l'atteindre (Only the spark hidden inside of me can reach it) (...) Les dés sont jetés, rien n'est joué (the dice is tossed, the game is set) Même le sort retient son souffle piégé dans ce sablier (even fate holds its breath, trapped in this hourglass) J'ai décidé de ne pas être prisonnier (I decided I wouldn’t be a prisoner) J'n'ai que ma vie à offrir si jamais j'échouais (I only have my life to offer if I ever fail) Pas le choix faut y'aller (No choice, let’s go)

The line “pas le choix, faut y aller” (no choice, let’s go) keeps being repeated in the entire song and it’s so, SO motivational. As I said before, 2006 was not as bad as 2003 but it was still a difficult year - at the end of it, I was an adult with no money, very little hope for the future, no diploma yet apart from the highschool one, still trying to NOT become a ball of anger because of a couple of assholes in class, all of this with dysphoria and a mother who wanted to kick me out as soon as possible. And I wanted to win, and punch the world, and say here I come, I’m alive, I survived, better watch out.

Si je dois exceller, tout donner, prendre c'que j'peux (If I need to be the best, give everything, take whatever I can) Si le monde m'appartient restez pas au milieu (If the world is mine, don’t stay in my way) Et si le sort est contre moi c'est tant pis (And if fate is against me, too bad) On fait des plans pour s'en sortir, écoute (We’re making plans to survive, listen) Pas le choix faut y'aller (No choice, let’s go)

This song defined the entire year for me. This was my fight song. Everytime I wanted to give up, it was there to give me a very simple reminder.

No choice. Let’s go.

Next up: here it is, at last, the absolute best hit song of the decade

[mossdeemo]

6 Dads — Chapter 3

I totally forgot to post 3 and 4 here dudes—

I might stop putting them here and just have them on AO3— these are long and I don’t have a computer— I’m So Sorry if you have to scroll past it 😂😂

Links to other chapter and AO3 link in my “6 dads” tag

@pricklyfish777 @mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon

It took almost no time at all for Thomas to begin seeing these five men. Was it sudden and a little overwhelming? Yes. Was it worth it? So far, definitely.

It began with a simple coffee date with Remy, who insisted that he needed to see him again. To get to know him better, and to apologize for drunkenly fawning over him.

Then it escalated to more dates with Remy, and then dates with Remy and his boyfriends, and it wasn’t until the fifth date that he realized that he now had five boyfriends.

Thomas had told Logan that he was dating Remy, he didn’t ever keep things from his son. Though he wasn't sure how to explain the other 4 boyfriends he had acquired.

But Thomas was bad at keeping secrets, and he was desperate to talk to someone about this. He really really liked his partners.

As always, Logan assisted his father with making breakfast in the morning. He cut up fruit and set the table while Thomas cooked at the stove, soft music playing from the speakers in the living room.

Thomas started putting their food onto plates. One small plate for the fruit, and a larger one for the ham, toast, and boiled egg.

They both sat at the table together, and Thomas couldn’t help but fidget. He was starting to wonder if telling Logan over breakfast was a bad idea. What if he choked? Or got mad and left without eating? Thomas took a long sip of his juice.

Thomas sat and picked at his food, staring at Logan and hoping he didn’t notice and get creeped out. He didn’t.

Eventually he cleared his throat, sitting up a little more. “Hey, Logan? Could I talk to you for a second?”

Logan took a second to put his fork down and wipe his mouth before looking up at his father. “Yes?”

“You know that I’ve been dating my boyfriend Remy for a few weeks now.”

“Yes.”

“Well, you see, Remy was already 4 other men when I met him.”

Logan blinked. “Ah. You were a… side hoe?”

“Wha-What? Where— no! No, I wasn’t… I knew about it, it’s nothing like that. I met them at the same time that I met Remy. They’re all very nice people. And, um, I’m also dating them now. Like, all five of us are dating each other. Does that make sense to you?”

Logan leaned forward slightly. He began tapping his foot, leaning back slightly. “Hm, I… not really. Will you allow me to do research and get back to you?”

Thomas hesitated, but Logan was already pulling out his phone. He sat there in almost complete silence, other than the music playing in the other room. He picks at his food a bit, as Logan scrolled through an article, mouthing words to himself occasionally. Then he looked back up.

“Alright, father. I now have a more extensive understanding on the subject of polyamouras relationships.”

“O-Oh? So… you understand.”

“Not entirely, but I’m sure you won’t mind answering a few questions?”

“No, of course not, Logan..” Thomas smiled.

“What are their names?”

“There’s Remy, Roman, Dee, Emile, And Remus.”

Logan frowned, tilting for a second. He started to pick at his food again as he thought. “..Will I get to meet them?”

Thomas grinned. “Of course! You’ll love them, Logan. I just know it.”

“Do you love them?” Logan asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Yes, of course, very much. But-But that doesn’t change anything with us. I’ll always love you so so much, Logan..”

Logan nodded, staring down at the table. “Okay. But you’ve only known them for three weeks. You’ve known me for fourteen years.”

“And I’ve loved you since the moment we met.” Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. “Love is weird, Logan. It’s.. really difficult to understand. But they make me very happy.”

“Okay.” Logan whispered, then went back to eating his food. Thomas hesitated, not sure whether or not the conversation was over.

“O-Okay! Thank you for listening, Logan. I appreciate it.” Thomas took a slow breath in through his nose, allowing himself to relax. He shouldn’t have worried so much; things went fine! Logan was much calmer than Thomas thought he would be.

After breakfast, Thomas texted his boyfriends through the group chat, asking when a good time to bring Logan over would be.

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

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

Despite what he told Thomas— Logan was not looking forward to meeting his father’s partners.

You didn’t have to know Logan for very long to realize he wasn’t exactly as “people person”. So having to go and be friendly with 8 strangers to make his father happy wasn’t something he was looking forward to.

Logan couldn’t be exactly sure how he felt about it— but knew that the tightness in his chest and constant need to fidget could be symptoms of nervousness or anxiety or stress— or maybe he had pneumonia. Though, that last one was unlikely.

Logan sat in a chair near the front door, waiting for his father to finish getting ready. Thomas has been fluttering around all morning, telling Logan how nervous and excited he was. It wasn’t very clear why his dad was nervous though— what did he think was going to happen? Thinking about that made Logan’s stomach turn, so he tried not to, tapping his feet and reading the small book he was taking with him.

Thomas walked up to where Logan was, opening the closet doors to get his coat and shoes. “Are you ready to go, buddy? Roman is picking us up— he’ll be here any second.”

Logan nodded, standing up, holding his book tight in his arms. “I-I would say so.”

Thomas stopped what he was doing to look at him. He turned, putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder, making him pull back slightly.

“Ah- sorry.” Thomas put his hands up. “Logan, buddy, it’s okay to be scared. Heck, I’m scared. I really hope that you guys get along. But no matter what happens, it’ll be okay, I promise. If you feel uncomfortable and want to leave— just tell me. Or text me, if it’s easier.”

Logan gave his father a small smile and a nod. “Father, do you—“

Logan jumped as someone knocked on the door behind him, turning to see a man grinning and waving at them through the glass.

Thomas laughed, putting a hand on his chest and going over to open the door. “Roman, you jerk, you scared us.”

“Did I? My apologies.” He grinned, then looked over at Logan. “You must be Tommy’s little boy. Hello, Logan.”

“Ah, yes, hello.” Logan gave a polite nod, taking a small step back from Roman. His voice was really loud, he felt like he was being yelled at.

Roman glanced at Thomas, stepping backwards back out of the house. Was that too much? Thomas has told him and Remus beforehand that Logan was a little different— just so the poor kid wasn’t overwhelmed. Roman was gonna try his best to tone himself down, but that was easier said than done.

Roman took Thomas by the arm, leading both of them to his car. Logan sat down in the back seat, behind his father, glancing over at the seat next to him. A young boy was sitting in a car seat, drinking juice out of a sippy cup.

Patton’s face lit up when he saw Logan enter the car. He stared at Logan, his mouth hanging open, while Logan stared right back at him. Then Patton laughed, waving his hands and dropping his cup onto the seat between them.

Roman glanced back at them as he and Thomas got in the car, grinning. “Logan, this is Patton! Patton, wanna say hi to Logan?”

Patton rocked his head back and forth, the bright blue glasses on his face wiggling slightly. “Mmm, hi! Gimme!” He reached for his cup, sticking his tongue out. He stretched down a bit, but his stubby little arms couldn’t quite reach his juice.

Logan hesitated before giving the bottle back to the small child. It was a little bit sticky, as he had anticipated, and Logan cursed himself for not taking any wipes with him. But Patton seemed happy, kicking his legs and tilting his head back as he drank his juice. Logan tilted his head back, watching as they pulled out of the driveway.

Roman turned up the radio once they started driving. It was on some channel that played broadway music. Nothing Logan was interested in, but he was grateful for the background noise. Patton grinned and set his juice down in his lap, bobbing his head and moving his arms around. He blabbered along to the song, saying nonsense words and making Roman and Thomas laugh.

Patton laughed when they laughed, bouncing in his seat. “Papa, is—ummm.. is chocolate?”

“Yes, honey! It’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. God job!” Roman grinned, putting a hand on Thomas’ arm as they both giggled.

Patton continued to move along to the music, now staring out the window. He lifted his head up as high as he could so he could see more, huffing. “Mm, where we goin?”

“To Dee’s house, pancake. We’re going to go and see everyone. Remus, Virge, Remy…”

Patton grinned and banged a hand on the car door.

“Are you excited?”

“Yep! I wan- I wanna play with sissy!”

Roman gasped softly, making a choked noise like he was gonna start crying. “O-Okay, honey. That sounds lovely.”

By the time reached Dee and Emile’s house, Patton was restless and couldn’t sit still. He kept swinging his feet (saying “sorry!” whenever he accidently kicked Roman’s seat), and tossing his now empty sippy cup into the air and catching it.

Logan didn’t hate kids, but he didn’t like being around them, especially not in an enclosed space like this. But he managed to survive this toddler singing Broadway tunes, which was something of a success.

They all got out of the car, Roman helping Patton unbuckle and then carrying him the rest of the way to the house.

Logan shifted, staying behind his father as he walked. He ran his thumb over the spine of his book, taking a slow breath.

They all headed inside, Roman loudly announcing their arrival, taking a look around. The 4 adults were all sitting in the living room, and Logan followed his father and Roman towards them.

Basic introductions weren’t so difficult. He said hello, they said hello, they weren’t too touchy. Emile was the friendliest, Remus was already drinking and seemed fairly tired, Dee was chill, and Remy was.. Remy.

Logan wasn’t the best at reading social cues, but he could tell they were all a little off, and it was making him kind of uncomfortable. He just couldn’t put his finger on it though. They were treating him odd, and he wasn’t sure why. So when Emile offered to take him up to meet Virge and Dice, he agreed immediately.

Emile led Logan and Patton upstairs, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning back. “Are you doing okay, Lo? If you need anything, you can just ask me, okay?” He smiled, giving him a soft pat on the arm. Patton ran past the both of them, opening a closed door and running into the room.

“Yes, I’m.. I’m fine.” Logan nodded, turning over the book in his hands several times. “Why?”

Emile lowered his voice. “You just seem a little nervous. You could sit by yourself for a little while if you’d like? You could into my room and take a little breather.”

“Thank you for the offer, but it will not be necessary.”

“O-Okay, Lo. The offer is there if you need it. Have fun, okay?” He smiled and gave a small wave, before heading back downstairs.

Logan watched him go for a few seconds, biting his lip. Then he turned back, going over and looking into the room that Patton has gone into.

Virge sat in a bean bag chair, leaning back against her bed with Patton on her lap. Dice was nearby, crossed legged on the carpet. There were a few discarded wrappers and water bottles on the floor, along with a guitar and some scribblers.

They both looked up when Logan entered the room, then glanced at each other.

It’s not as if they’d never seen each other before. Logan was not a high school student, so they went to school together. And they had gone to the same middle school. Logan wasn’t sure about elementary, though.

Logan didn’t have many friends at school, and these two were a part of the overwhelming majority that chose to avoid him. He had only been in the school for a few months now, but it didn’t take very long for people to figure out that you’re a total weirdo.

But Logan didn’t mind that. He didn’t bother seeking out friendships on his own, because it was just a waste of time. He knew that having friendships would be overall beneficial, but what was the point when it’s likely temporary, and was very likely to cause him emotional distress?

Logan didn’t have friends. Not because he couldn’t handle them, or because he didn’t know how to make friends. No. Because he just didn’t see a point.

Dice was the first of them to speak up. “You gonna sit down, or stare at us from the doorway?”

Logan froze for a few seconds, watching as Virge rolled her eyes and nudged Dice with her foot. “Chill, dude. Hey Logan. Have a seat.”

He relaxed, if only slightly, at that. Logan stepped into the room, pushing the door half shut behind him. He glanced around once more, before settling down in a bean bag chair a few feet away from Virge.

“So, Thomas is your dad? He’s pretty cool..” Virge said, brushing the hair out of Patton’s eyes. “Like, I’ve only met him a couple of times, but.” She shrugged, looking over at him.

Logan slowly nodded, staring back at her. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to respond with.

Virge stared at him for a few more seconds, before turning her attention back to Patton. She attempted to ask a few more questions— but they didn’t get her very far. Logan was having a difficult time forming words and thoughts. He shifted in his seat, running his thumb over the pages of his book. He felt restless, and wished he was alone.

When they were finally called down for dinner, Logan felt relieved for a moment. But only for a moment.

The realization that he was going to have to sit down at a table with 9 other people scared Logan. He didn’t quite understand that, but knew that this would not be a fun experience. But he went through with it anyway.

Logan made his way into the dining room, sitting down at the table. Dee and Emile’s dinner table wasn’t big enough for all 10 of them, so there was technically two tables pushed together. Roman and Virge were on either side of Logan, and his father sat directly across from him.

Logan twirled his fork around in his fingers, glancing around the table. He wasn’t focused on the food in front of him. He didn’t even look at it long enough to take in what it was. Logan was focused on the people around him. Virge was talking to Dice and feeding Patton, Dice was eating, Emile was laughing at a joke Remus was telling, Dee had an arm around Emile, Roman and his father were talking. They were really loud. Logan wasn’t hungry. His stomach twisted in knots, and he felt sick.

Logan felt his lip quiver, and tears welling in his eyes. Then, panic, as he realized that he was about to start crying. He swallowed hard, stabbing into something on his plate with the fork gripped in his hand. He shoved in his mouth, but couldn’t chew. That��s when the dam broke.

Everyone at the table turned to look at Logan as he began sobbing. He dropped the fork in his hand, moving his fingers up and into his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, rough gasps escaping his throat as rushed down his cheeks. No, no, no!

He heard voices but, but not words. He opened his mouth, spitting whatever was inside back onto his plate.

Roman was the first to try and touch him, placing a hand on his arm. That only worsened things. Logan jerked backwards, falling out of his chair. He was now lying on the ground, sobbing and yelling with his arms wrapped around his head.

Thomas was next to him in seconds, doing what he could. He gestured for Roman, who looked like he was about to cry, to get everyone else away. Which didn’t look like it was gonna be easy.

Remy had freaked out, not knowing what the fuck was going on. He just heard screaming. Patton was also screaming and freaking out now, and Virge was trying to comfort him, while looking like she was about to start panicking as sell. Dice had already bolted from the room.

Thomas glanced over at the others as they headed out of the living room. Except for Emile, who approached Thomas, asking if he could do anything to help. Thomas wasn’t really sure. His heart was racing and he could barely focus on Emile as his son was crying and curled up in a ball on the floor.

Thomas didn’t say anything as Emile carefully kneeled down nearby, putting a hand on Thomas’s back.

“Logan, honey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Thomas whispered to him, unsure whenever he should touch him.

Logan shook his head, trying to look up at his father through the tears in his eyes. He slowly managed to sit up, feeling embarrassed of himself. It was difficult to form a cohesive thought, but he still managed to scold himself internally for this childish behaviour. Logan reached out to touch his dad’s hand, grabbing hold of it and squeezing his eyes shut once again.

Thomas moved closer to Logan, putting his other hand on top of Logan’s. “Can you tell me what happened, Lo? What happened? Are you hurt?”

Logan looked up at him, swallowing as he tried to take a few deep breaths. He wanted to calm down, it was just hard to get his body to cooperate.

“I-I’m.. okay, father.” Logan managed to get out, his voice shaky. He wiped his eyes, and Emile reached over and gave him a handful of tissues. Logan could still hear Patton crying from a room above them, biting his lip and pressing his hands over his ears.

Emile watched Logan, biting down on his lip. “Honey, do you… would you be more comfortable if I left? I don’t want to intrude.”

Logan shook his head slightly, wiping his eyes with the tissues clenche in his fist. “I’m sorry for—“

“No, there’s no need for that.” Emile smiled, shaking his head. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for, okay?”

Logan frowned, looking down at the floor. “A-Alright.”

“Did Virge or Dice say anything to you? Are you feeling alright? Or were you just… overwhelmed? S-Sorry if I’m overstepping, you don’t have to answer. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Emile said, reaching over and lightly touching Logan’s leg.

Logan bit his lip, nodding slowly. “Alright. I’m just... I’m not entirely sure… I’m not sure what happened.” And he wasn’t, not really. At least, not to this extent. And never publicly. Sometimes he would cry in his room, or in the bathroom at school, but he had never full on freaked out like that. Not that he could remember. “I think you’re right about me being… overwhelmed.”

“Do you know what caused that..?”

Everything. “No.”

“Okay.” Emile smiled, removing his hand and slowly standing up. “Do you like tea, Logan? I’m going to make some.”

“Um, yes, thank you.” Logan whispered, wiping his face once more, before shoving the tissues in his pocket. He felt much calmer now. Not completely, but he was no longer crying. Logan stood up, watching as his father followed suit.

The two of them went over and sat on the couch together. They didn’t have much to say, and Logan wasn’t up for talking much anymore, so Logan just relaxed and allowed his father to play with his hair. There wasn’t much touch that he enjoyed, but that was always something that made Logan happy.

When Emile came back over with the tea, Logan was curled up against an arm rest, fast asleep. Emile smiled, setting his cup down on the table, handing one to Thomas, and sitting down in the recliner with his own.

Emile and Thomas spoke to each other quietly, as not to disturb the sleeping teen. Thomas was pretty shaken up, as he hadn’t seen Logan cry like that since he was a child. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Logan cry at all. Emile was concerned, but wasn’t pushing too much. He wanted to, but barely knew Logan yet and didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. He would see what comes with time, and made the suggestion to Thomas that Logan could benefit from talking to someone. That’s all he could to.

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

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

Logan awoke in an unfamiliar bed.

He opened his eyes, facing a purple coloured wall, with a heavy bedspread covering him. There was a radio playing from somewhere in the dark room, softly playing “The Girl from Ipanema”.

Logan squinted, realizing that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He managed to stand up, rubbing his face as he tried to fully wake up. He made his way towards the soft glow of a light switch, almost tripping over something in the middle of the floor. Ugh, what the hell—

Logan switched the light on, and was finally able to see the blurry bedroom, which he now realized belonged to Virgil. With the dull ceiling light, he was now able to find his glasses, phone, and book on her nightstand.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, checking his phone. No notifications, but it was about 8pm.

Logan hummed, rubbing his face once again. He had a minor headache, which was either caused by the nap, or his crying earlier. Or both.

He heard very muffled voices coming from the living room, which seemed to be right beneath him. But those voices were quickly drowned out by footsteps in the hallway nearby, which seemed to stop outside his room.

Virge knocked against her own door a few times before slowly opening it. She and Dice had just gotten Patton to fall asleep, when Dice had noticed that the light was on, meaning Logan had woken up. She was justifiably, considering what happened.

“Hey, Lo?” Virge looked into the room, making eye contact with Logan. She headed over, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. Dice walked in too, shutting the door behind him and sitting down in Virge’s desk chair.

Logan shifted slightly, folding his hands together and rubbing a finger over his thumb. “Ah, hello. I apologize for dinner, I have no idea what..”

“What? No, dude, it’s fine. I’m more worried about you.” She put a hand on his back, shaking her head. “We both are, I mean. I know you probably don’t wanna talk to use about it, which is cool. I would be so fucking embarrassed. No, wait, I mean—”

“Virge.” Dice shook his head, looking at Logan. “We’re sorry if we made today extra shitty for you. I wouldn’t want to have to hang around our fucked up family either. You freaked the fuck out and worried everyone, and we really don’t want that to happen again, for everyone’s sake.”

“He’s including you in the ‘everyone’.” Virge clarified, and Dice nodded.

Again, Logan has to appreciate Dice’s honesty. It was… comforting.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine. Is my father still here?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re all downstairs.” Virge waved her hand. “I can walk you down if you’re ready to go. It’s getting pretty late, I guess.”

Logan got up and grabbed his things, giving her a small nod. He was very tired— and he had to go to school in the morning. Logan didn’t mind school— but right now he wasn’t really looking forward to it. Odd.

Virge and Dice took him downstairs, where all the adults were. None of them were nearly as invasive as Virge had been— they said their goodbyes and told Logan they hoped he was feeling better. Roman looked particularly upset, but Logan couldn’t pinpoint why.

Emile drove Logan and Thomas home, and Logan was silent for the entire trip. Not because he was uncomfortable— the opposite, actually. Logan liked Emile very much.

Thomas gave Logan some space once they arrived home, but did come to check on him every 20-30 minutes. He told him that he didn’t have to go to school tomorrow if he didn’t want to— but Logan refused. The only times he stayed home is when he was sick— and Logan felt fine now.

Maybe not fine, but better at least.

Thomas checked in on Logan one last time at 11pm, to find him fast asleep. He sighed softly, going over to give him a kiss on the forehead before flicking his light out and stepping out into the hall.

“Sweet dreams, Lo.” He sighed, then carefully shut the bedroom door.

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

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

The next few days were weird.

Logan was used to not having any friends at school— he had been used to it for years. So when Virge, Dice, and a few of the people in their friend group began approaching him more, and inviting him to sit at their lunch table, he was caught off guard.

And even though it was different, he liked that it was different. The small shift in his routine didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Having friends… it was something Logan could definitely get used to.

Thomas was surprised when Logan approached him one day, asking for a drive to Dee and Emile’s house. They hadn’t talked much about what had happened last time. Thomas had no idea what he was going to do. So, this caught him off guard. He asked why, and Logan adjusted his glasses.

“Virge invited me. She and Dice will be there, it’s only for a few hours. Would that be alright, dad?”

Thomas grinned and nodded. He wouldn’t dream of saying no.

Logan began visiting his friends frequently. They saw each other at school, after school, on weekends. Virge and Dice seemed to like him a lot— which he didn’t fully understand, but tried not to question too much. They were very nice people.

Becoming closer to Dice and Virge slowly lead to Logan seeing much more of his father’s boyfriends, and Patton.

Virge and Dice didn’t seem to want to hang around the adults very often (especially Dice), so it was a gradual change. Emile would often check on the three of them. Sometimes Logan would stay to eat and chat with Dee. Then, when Dice and his father officially moved in with Dee, Emile, and Virge— he began seeing a lot more of Remy.

Roman and Patton also visited fairly often, and would sometimes even visit Logan and Thomas’s house. Logan often ended up spending time with Patton— especially if Virge was around. That little guy loved her.

Remus also spent a whole lot of time at Dee and Emile’s, though he also worked quite a bit, and Logan didn’t see as much of him. But Remus told a lot of interesting stories, and Logan enjoyed listening to him speak.

Logan really liked these people. He knew that for certain. The next family dinner they had was about a month after the last one, and Logan hadn’t been nervous about it. At least, not nearly as nervous as last time. He wore a pair of headphones to block out a lot of the noise, but still tried to pay attention to what his family was saying.

His family. The first time that Logan had called them that, he had caught himself off guard. He hadn’t realized how much he had come to care for these people. Emile’s kindness, Patton’s laugh, Roman’s upbeat and dramatic personality; they were all things Logan had come to love and treasure. He sat at the dinner table, watching as Remus wiped juice from Patton’s chin, and Virge snatched a roll from Dice’s plate when he wasn’t looking. And he smiled.

This was his family. And he loved them so much.

[hetaces]

@whatsnew-lgbtq​‘s 31 days of pride day 9!! i know I haven’t been doing ‘em all but that’s okay.

day 9: books

so books are my area of expertise honestly so I picked a few favorites to talk about a lil bit here (I’ll put it under a cut).

And feel free to ask me about more books because I’m Like That.

These are all ownvoices in at least one way. Ownvoices rep will be italicized in the list.

Highly Illogical Behavior by John Corey Whaley When you hear what this book is about, it sounds really bad. Like “Girl decides to ‘fix’ agoraphobic gay boy and her boyfriend gets ~close~ with him” is essentially what the synopsis says. It sets it up for every bad trope. And then uses none of them. It’s so good, has great portrayal of good accommodations, healthy friendship, and a bunch of Star Trek references. Representation: Sol is gay and agoraphobic

Heart of Iron by Ashley Poston Don’t look up the synopsis yourself, go right to goodreads (i’d link but you know how tumblr is with links), some of the synopses that come up automatically start with a “it’s like [story] in space” and it’s a spoiler. I’ll put the first part of it here bc it’s hard to get the words. Seventeen-year-old Ana is a scoundrel by nurture and an outlaw by nature. Found as a child drifting through space with a sentient android called D09, Ana was saved by a fearsome space captain and the grizzled crew she now calls family. But D09—one of the last remaining illegal Metals—has been glitching, and Ana will stop at nothing to find a way to fix him. Representation: Ana is written as acespec (not Super clear but it was the intent) Captain Siege is a lesbian. Telle is a lesbian. Robb is gay. Jax is gay.

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee So, there’s a lot of hype around Gentleman’s Guide and I was sort of expecting to be let down, but it more than lived up to it. Henry "Monty" Montague is going on his Tour of the continent (travel around Europe and have fun one last time, is the idea). Chaotic disaster bisexual Monty causes trouble, of course. So then on the way to dropping his sister off at finishing school before returning home early, they get attacked. Because Monty is a dumbass (it’s actually his fault). Cue rich kids travelling with no money & trying to avoid a growing number of people. Mackenzi Lee has hit the nail on the head with growth. Not only does she get that sometimes, growth does happen because of one moment of learning, she also writes it well, which is a really difficult thing to write. There’s a lot of heavy stuff in it, but none of it was thrown in for no reason, it’s actually important to the books and to the characters. Representation: Monty is bi, has PTSD, and (at the end of the first book, so spoilers) deaf on one side Percy is mixed, mlm, and (you find out part way through so if you’re picky about it it could be spoilers), epileptic. Felicity is aroace. Many other characters who aren’t white and a wlw character in the second book.

I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver After Ben comes out to their parents, things don’t exactly go well. They get kicked out, and have to go live with their sister who they haven’t seen in 10 years. They start over at a new school, only out to their sister, her husband, and their therapist (because hey, look how well coming out went last time). This book is so damn cute. And a book with a nonbinary main character! Representation: Ben is nonbinary Nathan is bisexual and black

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire Think Narnia, but with more worlds and less religion and you've got the concept of the doorways. Children have always been disappearing - going through a door that's appeared to them. But magic worlds rarely have use for used up miracle children. So they're sent back. But they don't come back the same. The children at Elanor West's Home for Wayward Children have all tumbled once. And they all want to get back. But with Nancy's arrival, things start going wrong. Representation: Nancy is asexual Jack is pan and has OCD Kade is a trans guy Sumi is bi (Seanan McGuire is a queer cis woman)

You Asked for Perfect by Laura Silverman Ariel Stone is a perfect student: he’s a community volunteer, first chair violin, and is on track to be valedictorian. And then he fails a calc test. When he finds he can’t fix it himself, he reluctantly gets a tutor. And he may not like calc, but he might like Amir. I started recommending this book to people when I was 5 pages into it. Ariel is so explicitly Jewish that Laura Silverman put her grandmother’s matzo ball soup recipe in the back because it’s not fair to rave about it so much and not provide a recipe. He’s explicitly bisexual by page 8. Amir and Sook’s eyes are both described as “warm” and I honestly think it’s the first time I’ve seen characters of color’s eyes described as anything but “dark”. Representation: Ariel is bisexual and Jewish Amir is a gay Pakistani Muslim Sook is a chubby Korean lesbian

The Past and Other Things That Should Stay Buried by Shaun David Hutchinson Shaun is back with more “so... the world might be ending?” and I absolutely love it. Dino’s ex-best-friend July died suddenly 4 days ago, and his family runs the funeral home. Dino is touching up July’s makeup (he knows how she wore it and everyone was doing it wrong), and she wakes up. But she’s not exactly... alive. She’s just not-dead. And then... other people just stop dying. So they have to figure out what’s happening. How July came back - or at least how to re-kill her when nobody can die. So not only is it a super interesting book, it’s also like... Shaun goes in on topics like “gay people making gay jokes and straight people making gay jokes are different” and “a cis guy might (might) not mind if you call him a girl, but do not call a trans guy a girl” Also I recommend anything by Shaun David Hutchinson. Representation: Dino is gay Rafi is trans, mlm, and mixed (white/Pakistani) Multiple LGBTQ+ minor characters

On The Edge of Gone by Corinne Duyvis It’s an end-of-the-world type book (via comet strike). Due to strange circumstances, Denise and her mother end up not at their government assigned shelter, but on a generation ship. And Denise has just a few days to find her sister and prove that her skills are worth 3 spots on a ship with limited resources. Representation: Denise is mixed (Surinamese/white) and autistic Iris is mixed (Surinamese/white) and a bi trans woman. Els is wlw. Leyla is wlw. Samira and Nordin are Muslim Some minor characters.

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman I’m just gonna give y’all the actual synopsis this time

You probably think that Aled Last and I are going to fall in love or something. Since he is a boy and I am a girl. I just wanted to say—we don’t. Frances Janvier spends most of her time studying. When she’s not studying, she’s up in her room making fan art for her favorite podcast, Universe City. Everyone knows Aled Last as that quiet boy who gets straight As. But no one knows he’s the creator of Universe City, who goes by the name Radio Silence. When Frances gets a message from Radio Silence asking if she’ll collaborate with him, everything changes. Frances and Aled spend an entire summer working together and becoming best friends. They get each other when no one else does. But when Aled’s identity as Radio Silence is revealed, Frances fears that the future of Universe City—and their friendship—is at risk. Aled helped her find her voice. Without him, will she have the courage to show the world who she really is? Or will she be met with radio silence?

This book is so good but fair warning, it gets really heavy. 

Representation: Aled is demisexual (Alice is queer/aroace) Frances is bi and mixed (white/Ethiopian) Daniel is gay and Korean Carys is a lesbian Raine is pan, Indian, and Hindu

Otherbound by Corinne Duyvis Otherbound is set in two worlds - Nolan’s (ours) and Amara’s (the Dunelands, where magic is real). Amara is on the run with the former princess, Cilla, whose family was overthrown by the ministers. Cilla has been cursed and is being hunted, and Amara’s particular type of healing magic is, basically, convenient for redirecting Cilla’s curse. Since they were children, Nolan has been experiencing Amara’s world through her every time he closes his eyes. He sees through her eyes, feels what she feels, smells what she smells. But he’s just a silent observer. She doesn’t even know he’s there. Until now. Representation: Nolan is Mexica and disabled Amara is not white, mute (due to mutilation), and bi Cilla is not white, fat, and a lesbian The majority of other characters are also not white.

[emospritelet]

Chapter 8 is up, in which past!Weaver and Lacey get married

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

AO3 link

Three years and eight months earlier

Thursday was cold and bright, the ever-present rain banished and replaced by a startlingly clear blue sky, frost riming the iron railings by Weaver’s apartment.  Roni had offered to let Lacey stay with her the night before the wedding, and she had shrugged and accepted, although she added that she didn’t believe in superstition, and she didn’t suppose that seeing each other before they did the deed would make any difference in the long run.  Weaver himself had spent the evening alone, having picked up the key to the Nolans’ cabin and gotten Lacey’s agreement to go there.  Merida and Fa had gotten them presents, which sat unopened on the kitchen counter, awaiting their return from their brief honeymoon.  He had packed food for the three days they planned to stay, picking up a bottle of champagne in the store before remembering that Lacey was pregnant, and pushing it back onto the shelf.

He hadn’t quite had time to get used to the fact that there was a baby on the way, and he thought perhaps that his subconscious was trying to pretend there wasn’t.  Not that he wasn’t happy at the idea, but he had seen too much of the darker side of humanity not to be worried about what any child of his might grow up to experience.  He told himself that he’d have to do the best he could to protect them, and pushed the worries from his mind, concentrating on the first step of his new life.

In the end he had taken Lacey’s suggestion regarding his wedding outfit, and was wearing jeans, although they were new and black and fitted him well.  He wore them with a blue shirt and dark jacket, his heavy boots polished to a shine and his rings cleaned.  Pushing each one onto its finger in turn, he eyed the space on his left hand, where a new piece of jewellery would soon sit.  He had taken Lacey to choose the wedding rings the day before, matching bands in white gold with Celtic knotwork running around them.  She had refused his offer of an engagement ring, saying bluntly that it was stupid to spend money on something just to conform to other people’s expectations, but she seemed to like the wedding ring.  So there was that.

He checked his reflection in the mirror, running a hand over his freshly-shaven chin and sighing to himself.  Not exactly the stuff of bloody dreams, but he’d have to do.  A knock on the bedroom door made him look around, and it creaked open to reveal Merida’s red curls.

“You ready?” she asked.  “We should probably get going.”

The ceremony was being held in the waterfront garden of a hotel owned by a friend of Roni’s.  The hotel itself was undergoing renovation, and what would have been a pleasant silence was punctuated by the banging of hammers and the whistling of workmen as they replaced the main staircase inside.  Weaver thought the garden was pretty, a well-kept lawn bisected by a path leading to a wrought-iron pergola, thick with climbing plants.  The plants were white with frost, and he was privately concerned that he and Lacey might freeze to death before they could say their vows, but he kept his mouth shut.  It was only fifteen minutes, after all.

He waited with Fa and Merida, shifting from foot to foot in the cold air, and glanced around as Lacey came out with Roni at her side.  She had bought a new dress with the money he had given her, a simple, pretty thing in pale blue with a full skirt, a white faux fur shawl keeping the cold from her shoulders and a posy of white roses in her hands.  Her legs were in white stockings, her shoes the same pale blue as the dress, with a strap at the ankle.  His eyes widened at the sight of her, hair teased into curls and tied up, a few snaking loose to curl around her smooth cheeks and the nape of her neck, her lips deep pink.  She ran her eyes over him as she got nearer, and one side of her mouth drew up.

“You look good, Detective,” she said.

“You look beautiful,” he said honestly, and her smile grew.

“Okay lovebirds, let’s get you idiots married,” said Merida loudly.

x

It was over so quickly it almost made his head spin.  He stumbled a little over the vows, but he meant every word, and Lacey shot him a brief smile before she said her own, although she stuttered over the ‘love’ part.  The ring was cold and unfamiliar on his finger, and he unconsciously rubbed at it with his thumb as Roni spoke the closing words and told him to kiss his bride.  Lacey’s lips were soft and cool, and he touched his forehead to hers in a brief gesture of affection as he heard the clicking sounds of Fa and Merida taking pictures. And then it was done.  He was a married man.

They went back to Roni’s for drinks, but he stuck with coffee while the others downed whisky.  Lacey had hot chocolate, a swirl of cream with a sprinkling of cinnamon on top, and when she had almost finished, Weaver went to find Roni, handing her a sheaf of bills.

“Drinks are on me until that runs out,” he said.  “I think we’ll get away.”

“Well, I hope you have a good time,” she said, as she took the money.  “I’m sure you will.  I think you two will be okay.”

“Yeah,” he said, glancing across to where Lacey was staring into her empty cup.  “I hope so.  I’ll try to make her happy.”

“I can draw you a useful diagram, if it would help,” she said, tucking the cash into her pocket and winking at him, and he sent her a look.

“Thank you, but I think I can remember the basics.”

“Well, I guess that’s a start,” she observed.  “Don’t forget to be happy yourself, while you’re at it.”

He grinned, glancing towards the bar, where Merida was talking animatedly to Fa with extravagant hand gestures.

“Do me a favour,” he said, jerking his head at them.  “Try to get one of those two to ask the other out, they’re driving me up the bloody wall.”

“Since I’m playing Cupid today I’ll give it my best shot, but I warn you that of all the useless lesbians I’ve met, these two are by far the worst,” she said dryly.  “Now go bang your new wife.”

Weaver gave her a flat look, walking over to where Lacey was staring into space.  She glanced across at him.

“Are you wanting to head off?” she asked.

“We can stay longer, if you like.”

She shook her head.

“I’m good.  How long’s the drive?”

“An hour or so, depending on the traffic,” he said.

“No point in hanging around, then.”

She pushed to her feet, grasping his hand and calling goodbye to the others before tugging him towards the doorway.  Whoops from Merida followed them out, which made Lacey grin a little, but once outside she shivered in the cold air, and he quickly shrugged off his jacket, putting it around her shoulders.

“Car’s just around the corner,” he said, and she tucked her arm through his as they walked swiftly.

It was a relief to get out of the bitter wind, and there was silence for awhile as Weaver drove out of the city.  Lacey fiddled with the radio, eventually finding some music she liked, and settled back as the car turned onto a quieter road, tall pines flanking the edges and faint remnants of snow still visible in amongst the trees.  Lacey shifted in her seat, glancing across at him.

“So,” she said.  “That was pretty painless, right?”

“Were you expecting ordeal by fire, or something?” he remarked, and she chuckled.

“I just meant it was - quick,” she said.  “No fuss, no expense, and we’re no less married than the people paying forty thousand bucks so their guests can have personalised party favours, or whatever.”

He grinned at that.

“I don’t think we’re personalised party favour kind of people.”

“Got that right.”

There was silence for a moment, and she looked out of the window, late afternoon sunlight sending flickering rays through the dark trunks of trees.

“You’ve been to this place before, right?” she said.

“Many times,” he confirmed.  “If Nolan and I had free time in the summer, we’d come up here, bring some meat to barbecue and drink beer by the lake.  Snow always brought whatever she’d been baking that week, and we’d get a little drunk and listen to music and talk about all sorts of crap.  It’s a nice little place.  Few other cabins nearby, but enough space that you feel as though you’re on your own.”

“I’m guessing it’s probably deserted at this time of year anyway.”

“Probably,” he acknowledged, and glanced across at her.  “You don’t mind, do you?  I could have driven us down to California, or something.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, after a pause.  “A week ago I was bunked down on a packing crate, so it’s really no big deal.  I wasn’t expecting a honeymoon.  I wasn’t expecting a wedding, let’s face it.”

“What were you expecting?” he asked curiously, glancing across at her, and she shrugged, mouth pursing a little.

“Don’t know,” she admitted.  “I - I didn’t really think things through.  I just knew I had to come back.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, and turned the wheel into a long, winding bend as the car made its way up a hill.  “It’s not too much further.”

He wanted to ask her about their time apart, why she had left in the middle of the night and not contacted him until four months later.  He wanted to ask about the night their child was conceived, whether she had regretted what they had done.  Whether she had hated him for it.  He couldn’t find the words, though, and it didn’t seem the time, so he kept silent, his eyes on the road, and before too long he was turning off onto a narrow track covered in pine needles.  The track wound downhill amongst dark stands of pine trees, and turned out onto a flat, wide area where log cabins nestled in amongst the trees, the lake beyond catching the last rays of the sun in flickers of orange.

Weaver pulled up outside the Nolans’ place, turning off the engine.  Lacey had been correct; the other cabins seemed deserted, and she was out of the car before he, nose raised to sniff the pine-scented air.  He took the overnight bag from the trunk, handing over hers and picking up a cardboard box of food before nudging the trunk shut.  Lacey took the key from him, the heels of her shoes sinking into the mulch as she headed for the steps to the porch.  It had started to snow, large flakes drifting slowly to the ground around them, and she shivered as she looked around.

“Bloody freezing,” she said, and unlocked the door.

“Give me a few minutes and I can light a fire,” he said.

The cabin was cold, but at least they were out of the bitter wind.  He set the box of food on a small table, then went to the hearth, looking around for kindling.

Lacey left him to it, carrying the box of food he had brought into the small kitchen area.  It had a fridge (empty), hotplate and microwave, and cupboards filled with canned goods, dried rice and pasta, and boxes of cereal.  There were plates and cups, glasses and cutlery, and she spent a couple of minutes poking around before putting anything perishable into the fridge and heading out of the lounge area into a small, dark corridor.  Flicking on the lights, she found four doors, the first leading outside to the back porch.  Closing it with a shiver, she tried the next, which revealed a bathroom, complete with tub and shower.  Next to it was a bedroom with a wood-burning stove and a king bed covered in a pale blue woollen throw embroidered at the edges with tiny silk flowers.  She dropped her bag onto it, peeking at the room next door and finding another, smaller bedroom.

From the sound of it, Weaver was still making the fire, so she tugged his jacket around herself and tried the back door again.  The porch was sheltered, two benches set each side of a small table with a view out over the lake,and she stood there for awhile, letting the cold air sink into her and watching her breath huff out in clouds of white as she scanned the quiet landscape.  She imagined that in the summer it must be nice to sit there and watch the sunset through the trees as the heat of the day faded and the chirps of birds were replaced by the buzz and whine of insects and the croaking of frogs.  Now the woods were cold and silent, the snow soft as feathers against her cheeks as it fell, ice forming in pale fronds at the edges of the lake, where patches of old snow still clung.

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

Weaver’s voice behind her made her jump, and his hands steadied her, warm on her waist.

“It’s kind of pretty,” she said.  “In a desolate sort of way.  Like it’s all sleeping.  It’s colder up here than in the city, huh?”

“Winter was longer than usual this year,” he remarked.  “And it clings on in the mountains.  I could make you hot cocoa, if you like.”

“You got a shot of bourbon to go in that?”

She sent him a smile over her shoulder, to show she was joking, and he grinned.

“No can do,” he said.  “But I don’t mind joining you in sobriety for the next five months, if it would help.”

“Misery loves company?” she teased.

“Marriage is a partnership.”

“I’ll remind you of that when it’s four a.m. and the baby’s crying.”

“Feel free.”

She felt a rush of affection for him, and turned in his arms to twine hers around his neck, his jacket falling from her shoulders.  He was still smiling, and his head wobbled a little, as though he was extremely satisfied with something.  His body was very warm, and she inched closer, until she was pressed up against him.

“So,” she said.  “Married.  On honeymoon.  Can mean only one thing.”

She grinned wickedly, and his smile grew, his eyes glinting.

“I did say you didn’t have to share a bed with me if you didn’t want to.”

Lacey gave him a flat look.

“You think I bought new underwear for no reason?” she asked.  “If I can’t have a drink to celebrate getting hitched, I’m at least expecting an orgasm or two.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good.”

“You have to tell me if you don’t like something, though,” he added.  "In fact, tell me if you do like something, too."

“Oh, I will.”  She raised her chin.  “You can kiss me if you like.”

Weaver’s smile broadened, and he bent his head, his mouth finding hers.  It was harder than the kiss he had given her to seal their vows, and she was snatched back to the night they had last shared, to the night when he had laid her down and kissed her like it was his last night on earth.  To the night when he had made her see stars.  It made her breath catch as he drew back, and she licked her lips, catching the faint taste of him.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

If he remembered that she had said the same thing to him four months ago, he didn’t react beyond a faint smile and a nod.  He took a step back, holding the door open to let her inside, and closed and locked it behind them.  Lacey made her way through to the bedroom, noting that he had lit a fire in the wood-burning stove, flames crackling around the split logs in there.  He had turned on the two bedside lamps that sat on the matching nightstands, and a warm glow was filling the room as the heat from the fire began to build.  She went to rummage in her bag, taking out a hairbrush and crossing to the little dresser, where she proceeded to take the pins from her hair where Roni had teased her curls into a loose bun.

Weaver closed the door behind him with a faint click, waiting as she brushed out her hair until it shone, reddish highlights gleaming in the lamplight  After a moment of standing there, unsure of what to do, he bent to unlace his boots, tugging them off with his socks and setting them next to the door.  The wooden floor was cold beneath his bare toes, but the room was starting to warm, and Lacey let the faux fur shawl slip from her shoulders, draping it over the back of the single chair that sat before the dresser.  He watched his wife in the mirror as she removed her earrings, and she turned her head a little, sweeping her hair to one side as she glanced over her shoulder at him.  My wife.  She’s my wife.  How the fuck did that happen?

“Unzip me?”

Weaver stepped closer, reaching up to touch her, fingertips brushing the nape of her neck and making her shiver.  He drew the zipper down, the sound seeming loud in the silence of the room, and she met his eyes in the mirror as he pushed the dress from her shoulders, gently drawing the cap sleeves down her arms.  He pushed the dress over her hips until it pooled on the floor at her feet as she stepped out of it, and let out a tiny growl as her body was revealed to him, pale curves hugged by powder-blue lace, the darker peaks of her nipples showing through.  Her legs were perfection, stockings topped with white lace clinging to them, and he watched as she flicked open the buckles to her heeled shoes and kicked them off before straightening up, the light gleaming on her pale skin.

Lacey sucked in a breath as he cupped her gently, and he bent his head to kiss her shoulder, one warm hand sliding down to where her belly curved outwards a little.  She could feel the slight roughness on his chin where fresh stubble was starting to grow, a contrast to the softness of his lips.  Cold air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps on her arms, and she rubbed her head against his, closing her eyes as she felt his hands slide back up to her shoulders, teasing the thin straps of her bra.

“Take it off,” she said softly.

He kissed her again, hands dropping to the catch at the back, and she waited patiently as he fumbled with it.

“Fucking thing,” he muttered, and Lacey grinned.

“You want me to do it?”

“No, it’s fine, I — bloody hell, woman, does this thing have a combination lock?”

Lacey rolled her eyes, reaching behind to unhook the bra and let it fall, and Weaver grunted.

“Well, I guess you’re used to it.”

“Practice makes perfect,” she said with a grin, turning to face him, and her grin widened as he ran his eyes over her.  “Come on, Detective, warm me up, would you?”

He reached up to cup her face, fingers sliding into her hair, and Lacey moaned as their mouths met, his lips warm and soft.  She went to work on the buttons of his shirt, plucking them open and sliding her hands inside over his naked chest.  He was smooth and firm, just as she remembered, and she tugged him a little closer, Weaver groaning into her mouth as the kiss deepened.  He let his hands drop, shrugging out of the shirt and letting it fall, and broke the kiss, his breath coming hard and his chest heaving as he pressed his brow to hers.  His hands ran down her back and over her buttocks, tugging her against him so that his belt buckle dug into her belly, and he pulled his mouth from hers to kiss down her neck, sending a shudder of pleasure through her.

He bent to scoop her up in his arms, tossing her onto the bed, and Lacey pushed up on her elbows, watching as he unbuckled his belt and flicked open the buttons of his jeans.  He let them fall, and she licked her lips, running her eyes over the lean lines of his arms and chest and the slight softness of his belly, watching the silver chain around his neck glinting in the light.  His nipples were hard, dark peaks, and she wanted to run her tongue over them, to taste his skin and breathe him in as he pushed inside her.  He crawled onto the bed, and his eyes were dark and deep, searching out hers as he reached for her, his fingers sliding over one cheek and into her hair.

Lacey moaned into his mouth as he laid her down and kissed her hard, his tongue pushing in between her lips, stabbing and stroking, his hands caressing her face, the chain he wore cold against the base of her throat.  She let her fingers slide up his back, stroking over hot skin, need for him burning through her, and he shifted his body to the side, one hand sliding down to cup her breast.  She groaned and arched upwards, pushing against his palm, and he kissed down her throat, tongue stroking over her skin as his mouth sought her nipple.  Lacey gasped as he sucked at her, letting her head roll back against the pillows, and she opened her legs a little, eager for his touch.

Weaver swirled his tongue over her nipple, tasting a faint hint of roses on her skin from the lotion she used.  She was breathing hard, her chest heaving, and he kissed lower, lips brushing over the slight curve of her belly where his child was growing.  He pressed tender kisses to her, shivering as he felt her fingers stroke through his hair, and slid his hands up her hips to grasp the thin waistband of her lace thong.  Lacey lifted her hips a little, allowing him to draw it down, and he let out a low growl as she was revealed to him, the soft cleft between her legs glistening with fluid.

He slipped the thong down her legs and off at her feet, pushing his boxers down over his hips and tossing them aside before kneeling between her legs and sliding his hands up her inner thighs.  The lace of her stocking-tops scraped against his palms, and he pushed her thighs apart, bending to run his tongue along the crease at the top of her thigh.  Lacey let out a gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, and he nuzzled her with his nose, breathing in the scent of her arousal.  His tongue flickered out to catch a taste of her, stroking up between her legs, and she let out a cry, arching her back.

He let out a low groan of pleasure at the taste of her, salt and musk on his lips, and swept his tongue over her flesh, sliding in between her soft folds, the tip just brushing the hard pearl of her clit.  Lacey moaned, nails scraping his scalp, and he let his tongue swirl in circles, stroking against her, feeling her move beneath him as he found his rhythm.  His hand slid up her inner thigh, one finger slipping through wet flesh to tease her, pushing inside her, and Lacey bent one knee, sliding her foot across his shoulders, letting his mouth reach more of her.  He groaned and buried his face in her, finger pushing deep into her soft, wet heat as his tongue swirled and stroked, and he could hear her panting, could feel her tensing beneath him.  He licked her, the flat of his tongue scraping her over and over, and Lacey jerked against him with a cry as she came, hot fluid bathing his tongue as he drew out the finger and sucked her pleasure from it.  He pushed his tongue inside her, groaning as he licked up every drop, and Lacey stroked his hair with shaking hands, gasping for breath.

Encouraged by her response, he smiled against her skin, pressing kisses to her, lips trailing across to her hip before making his way back up her body.  He was almost painfully hard, his balls full and aching, and the urge to get inside her was overwhelming.  She was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, perfect breasts rising and falling with her breath, and his mouth fastened over her nipple as she moaned in pleasure.  He sucked at her, tongue circling as his lips tugged at her skin, and he let the nipple slip from his mouth, glistening with saliva as he kissed his way upwards to nip at her earlobe.

Lacey closed her eyes, skin still tingling from her climax, enjoying the feel of his touch and the scent of him drifting into her nose.  Their first time had been half-drunk and frenzied, messy and desperate and wonderful, and she was looking forward to taking some time with him, to exploring and reconnecting and learning with him.  Weaver shifted, moving to the side of her and sliding one hand down over her belly to slip into the slippery heat between her legs.  Lacey moaned, head pushing back against the pillows as he slipped a finger inside her.  He pushed in another, sinking up to the knuckles, thumb flickering over her clit, and she let out a cry, pushing against him.

“That’s good!” she whispered.  “Oh God, give me more!  Make it harder!”

He pushed another finger into her, stretching her, sliding deep, and she moaned at the feel of it, remembering how it felt to have him inside her.  The fingers began to thrust in and out, his thumb circling her clit, and she could feel the throb of her pulse as her arousal grew, sensations rising up within her.  His tongue teased her ear, his breath hot, sending shivers through her as he pushed and thrust.

“You feel fucking incredible, Lacey!” he whispered.  “Let me feel you come!  I want it running down my fingers!”

She moaned, pushing against his hand, and he quickened his pace a little, fingers sliding in and out of her, his thumb sending jolts of sensation through her with every pass over her clit.  She matched his pace, hips bucking as she rode his hand, her moans increasing in pitch as she felt a wave of pleasure rise up, and she broke with a loud cry, bliss washing over her.  He buried his face in her neck with a low groan, lips sucking at her skin as his movements slowed, and then pushed up on one elbow, gently drawing out his fingers with a wet, sucking sound.

Lacey tried to catch her breath as she watched him slip the fingers into his mouth and suck her juices from them, his eyes meeting hers.  She licked her lips, glancing down to where he was pressed against her hip in a rigid line, and reached up to touch his face, fingers raking through his hair.

“I want you,” she whispered.

He sent her a brief smile, and shifted position again, one knee lifting over hers until he was lying between her legs.  She let her hands run over him, fingers catching in the chain around his neck and trailing over his chest, and his jaw tightened as she brushed his nipples.  Weaver kissed along her jaw, mouth finding hers as one hand cradled her head.  His skin was damp and sticky with her fluids, his stubble scraping her chin as his lips pushed hers apart, and she let her tongue stroke his, feeling him hard against her thigh.  Her heart was thumping, and she shifted her hips a little, trying to capture the head of his cock.  He took his weight on one arm and reached between them, hand sliding down between her legs to grasp himself, and she let out a sound of approval as he pushed up against her.

Weaver was lost in the feel of her, the heat of her skin and the sheen of sweat forming between them, the firm roundness of her breasts pressing against his chest.  He was pushing against the soft, wet heat between her legs, and Lacey let out a tiny sound of pleasure as he eased inside her, the sensation making him grit his teeth.  He let out a long, low groan as he sank into her, flesh like silk against him, and she lifted a knee, letting him push deeper.

“Fuck!” he gasped, and she let out a throaty giggle, eyes sparkling as they met his.

He slipped a hand behind her knee, tugging it higher, thrusting into her as deep as he could go, his balls rubbing against her as he pushed inside, and Lacey wrapped her legs around him, tilting her head until her mouth caught his.  A low, bass hum rumbled out of him at the taste of her, and he moved his hips in a slow circle, rubbing against her, sliding in and out.  Lacey pulled her mouth free, head rolling back as she moaned.

“Fuck, that’s good!” she breathed.  “Harder!  Fuck me harder!”

He almost lost his mind, and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks to try to keep it together.  Lacey was arching upwards, thighs gripping him tight and the lace of her stockings scratching pleasantly, and he ran his hands up her arms, grasping her wrists and pushing them into the pillows as he thrust into her.  She moaned, writhing, and he ran his tongue up the length of her throat to taste the salt of her sweat.  Her moans were growing louder, and he could feel himself nearing his peak, pleasure stealing through him and making his skin tingle.  He bit down into her neck, swiping his tongue over the bite and kissing up to her ear.

“Fuck, you feel amazing!” he whispered.  “Gotta come, Lacey!  Gotta come inside you!”

Lacey could feel him deep within her, thick and rigid, rubbing against her as he thrust, and she held her breath, moving her hips against him, increasing the friction, willing him to come.  She was close, she knew it, and she pushed up against him, squeezing him tight as his body trembled on the edge, the muscles of his arms and chest taut and straining.  She felt him come, a loud groan bursting from him as his cock pulsed and heat seemed to flood into her, and she cried out as she followed him, pumping her hips, pulling every drop from him.  His hands were tight on her wrists, his thrusts fast and shallow, and she let a wave of pleasure drench her, electricity coursing over her skin.  He finally slowed and stopped, letting out a deep, shuddering gasp, and released her wrists, letting his head drop.  

For a moment there was silence except for their panting, ragged breathing. The room seemed very warm, the heat between them making Lacey feel lazy and contented, and she smiled, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his damp hair as they tried to catch their breath.

“Well,” she murmured.  “Married life’s okay so far, I guess.”

He raised his head at that, a lazy grin pulling his mouth up at one corner, and pushed himself up on his elbows a little more so that he could look down at her.  She could still feel him inside her, but he was shrinking, and she unwound her legs from around his back, letting him slip from her.  He was staring at her with a softness in his expression, a deep affection that inexplicably made her want to push him away, to run and not look back.  She licked dry lips, heart thumping, and told herself to calm the fuck down.

Weaver couldn’t remember ever feeling as contented as he did right then.  Their bodies were hot and sticky, slippery with sweat and their own fluids.  Lacey’s dark curls were spread out on the pillow, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kisses, and he thought she was the beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.  His entire body was still humming from his orgasm, his limbs heavy and loose, and he reached up to stroke a stray curl from her cheek, leaning in to press his brow to hers.  Affection burst up out of him, and he nuzzled her nose with his own.

“Oh, Lacey!” he whispered.  “I’m glad you came back.  I missed you.”

Lacey seemed to freeze momentarily, and then she pushed at him, turning her head away from his, her mouth twisting.

“Don’t - make it weird,” she muttered.

Blinking in confusion, he rolled to the side and let her slip from the bed, watching as she snatched up his shirt and tugged it on before ducking out of the bedroom.  The bathroom door closed with a click of the lock, and he sat there for a moment, trying to work out what he’d done to make her bolt and coming up with very little that made any sense.  Shaking his head, he got up, snatching up his boxers and pulling them on, along with his jeans.  He really wanted a drink, but he’d promised to lay off the booze with her, and so he figured he’d make that hot cocoa after all.  Perhaps it would stop him over-analysing everything.

She was still in the bathroom when he went out, the relative chill of the corridor making him shiver.  The lounge was warmer, the fire having settled down into a pleasant blaze, and he put another couple of logs on it to keep it going, poking them into place and making sparks jump and dance.  He could hear water running in the bathroom, and after a moment Lacey came through, rubbing lotion into her hands and not quite meeting his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked carefully, and she nodded, shifting from foot to foot.

She seemed to be having some sort of internal conversation with herself, and he waited for her to say what was on her mind.  A piece of wood snapped in the fire, and Lacey finally turned on her toes to face him.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” she said.  “I - uh - I have a request.  It’s - it’s a little thing, but I think I need to tell you about it, okay?”

“Go on,” he said, and she took a deep breath.

“I know you care about me,” she said.  “I know this wasn’t what you planned, what you wanted, but I know you care about me.  I care about you too, I do.  We were friends before anything else.  We’re still friends, and - and we’ll be more than that, I know it.”

He gave her a tiny smile.

“Yeah, I do care about you,” he agreed.  “And no, maybe this wasn’t what either of us planned when we first met, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it work, okay?  I want to make it work.  For both of us.  For the baby.”

Lacey smiled a little, and there was a tenderness in her eyes he was not used to seeing.  She took a step closer.

“You’re a good man,” she said softly.  “And I’m happy to be married to you, Rafe, I am.  I’m gonna try to be a good wife, and a good mother, and I want to make you happy, too.  I want to make you coffee in the mornings and share your bed and fall asleep beside you after a night of awesome sex, I swear it.”

He sensed that she hadn’t finished, that there was something else she wanted to say.  Something she was steeling herself for.  He was racking his brains to think what it might be, and she took a deep breath, raising her chin.

“Just - please,” she said.  “Please.  Don’t ever tell me you love me.”

He could feel his mouth fall open.  Whatever he had been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it.

“Okay,” he said, bewildered.  “Uh - why not?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.  “It’s just words, right?”

He opened and closed his mouth, but didn’t respond, and she nodded.

“Good,” she said, and stepped forward, stretching up on her toes to kiss him before dropping back on her heels with a grin on her face.  “You wanna have sex again?”

He stared at her, and shook his head numbly.

“I - uh - think I’ll make that cocoa.”

“Okay, cool.”  She ran her hands over his chest, still smiling.  “Come back to bed when it’s ready, I’m not done with you yet.”

She winked at him, and took a step back, turning to head for the bedroom, hips swaying as she walked.  He watched her go, his heart thumping hard in his chest, and realised that he barely understood a single thing about her.

[notgoingtohappen]

Revenge, Interrupted (Part 24)

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23

A/N: *waves* here it is, 6 months later! (sorry) I’m a bit out of practice but please bear with me 🙏🙏🙏 the drama is just beginning :D

They had settled into a little routine the past week.

They woke up together. Stefan hit the gym and Caroline got ready for work. Caroline went to work and Stefan read a book. Caroline returned and they hung out for a while. They made a pillow slash blanket fort one night and fell asleep in it, tangled up in the blankets as the fairy lights twinkled above them. Sometimes he cooked, once they got dinner at the diner, some days he barely saw her if she was with Bonnie and Elena the entire evening. They went to bed together.

It worked just fine for him, he told himself and Lexi. They were a couple in front of their friends, and in private they kept a platonic distance.

Well, that night in the pillow fort had been almost magical, with the two of them laughing and cuddling more than they would have, but for the most part, they were strictly just friends. Stefan avoided touching her, and they barely ever kissed in front of their friends, sticking to pecks on the cheek.

But Stefan found himself missing the old intimacy they'd shared. Surely there had to be a line between angsty confusion and the distance he felt in his heart right now.

"Stefan. Mate."

Enzo's voice interrupted Stefan's train of thought.

"Hm?"

"What's up?"

"Nothing just... bored."

"You do seem excessively broody. All okay? I haven't seen you with Caroline in a while?"

"What do you mean? We went to the diner last night."

"Oh, right. That. Can I make a confession? I never particularly liked the food there. Too greasy for my taste, and I despise cheese fries."

Stefan shook his head. "So you pretend to like it because Bonnie does?"

Enzo nodded. "The things we do... anyway, I have to run."

Stefan stared into space as Enzo hurried out of the loft. Enzo was right, and he had all this time on his hands. Caroline deserved a treat or two her first week as a working adult.

This had nothing to do with him missing her or anything, of course.

~*~

Stefan checked his watch. She should be out any minute. He leaned against his car, slightly nervous.

Nerves, after everything they'd been through? It was ridiculous.

The doors burst open and Caroline walked out, chatting animatedly with a girl covered in tattoos and wearing heavy black eyeliner. Her gaze landed on Stefan and she came to a stop, a smile lighting up her face.

All the anxiety Stefan had been feeling literally evaporated into thin air.

Stefan never smiled much. Damon never let him forget it, slapping the "broody" label on him when he was nine years old. But with Caroline, Stefan smiled without meaning to, and all the time.

He grinned back at her as she across the street and threw her arms around him.

With her body pressed against his, her hair falling into his face, and the beautiful flowery scent of her shampoo intoxicating him, Stefan didn't feel those oceans between them. Despite himself, he lifted her off the ground and spun her around, letting himself drown in the sound of her laughter.

"Your boyfriend is hot, Caroline! Nice." Came a voice from the distance.

Stefan put Caroline down and they both turned to the girl Caroline had walked out with.

"Thanks Davina, see you tomorrow," She called out cheerily. She flashed Stefan a dazzling smile again. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Oh, just thought I'd surprise you. With it being your first week and all."

She shook her head, her blue-green eyes glinting mischievously in the sunlight. "We aren't all trust fund Salvatores. I've done plenty of internships before."

"Yeah but you know, this time it's for the rest of your life."

"Wow. Depressing."

"Don't worry, I have another surprise planned after."

She perked up at that, but before Stefan could get another word in she suddenly stepped back and pulled out her phone, tapping furiously and then holding it up. "Well, we shouldn't let this opportunity go to waste."

"Right." Stefan felt a tiny invisible punch in his gut. Or maybe heart.

She quickly took the selfie and sent it to her group chat with the girls.

"So, a surprise huh? Spill."

"Nope."

Caroline let out a disbelieving laugh. "No one has ever succeeded in keeping a secret from me. Not even my parents when I was turning four. I'm the Queen of Pester Power, copyright Liz Forbes 1995."

"I think your dethroning is long overdue then, isn't it?"

Caroline narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion and got into the car, slamming the door shut.

Stefan sighed as he made his way to the driver's seat. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn't even understand what he was doing. Was it some form of masochism?

He wanted more than anything to have a safe distance from Caroline, be nothing but good friends, and when he finally had that he went and did something to destroy it. And then felt bad when Caroline acted the way he'd been trying to.

Maybe he wasn't that different from Katherine.

He hadn't felt this conflicted since her. His other relationships were all so easy, so uncomplicated.

But love? The only time he could say that he'd been in love for sure was with the woman who lied to him, messed with his head, cheated on him with his "friend" Elijah, gotten him hooked onto drugs far worse than the weed his friends teased him about, and basically turned his life inside out. He didn't even remember it properly. It was all a haze of drugs, sex, pure hedonism and Katherine. Just Katherine, everywhere. Her long dark hair and tight dresses. The shine in her eyes that had fascinated and terrified him. The way she convinced him she both adored him and made him feel like she would leave him to drown if it suited her. 

Despite it all, she was the only woman he'd loved.

Maybe Lexi was wrong. Maybe he was more like her than he'd admit. And maybe love really was complicated and painful.

"Stefan?"

Caroline was looking blankly at him, but her voice betrayed her concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just... brooding, I guess." Stefan smiled grimly.

"Your knuckles are white" she motioned to the wheel Stefan had been gripping far harder than he'd realized.

"I just... could be having a better day."

"Oh."

"Don't worry about it."

"Stop the car." Caroline said suddenly.

Stefan pulled over and Caroline turned in her seat to face him.

He gulped, suddenly aware of the tiny distance between them in the car, his mind wandering to the night at the party despite his best efforts.

He wanted nothing more than to touch her again, kiss her lips, run his hands over...

Nope. Not going there.

Caroline seemed self-conscious too, breathing carefully as she composed herself. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't help it. Caroline was easy to talk to.

"Maybe I'm more like Katherine than I thought."

"Your evil ex? Stefan no, Damon told me about her. You're so noble and kind and good-"

"Then why do I want to do exactly what she would do?" He heard himself whisper hoarsely.

Three things happened then. Caroline's forehead creased in confusion. The radio changed songs and Hypnotic came on. And Stefan Salvatore closed the gap between him and Caroline Forbes.

His hands were everywhere, up her shirt, in her soft hair, cupping her face. She was kissing him back, mirroring his urgency as she pressed herself into to him, her hands tangling in his hair. Stefan kissed her neck, eliciting loud sighs from her and making her scratch his back as she moved closer to him, her legs travelling against his and sending shivers down his spine. He got the message and gripped her hips, swinging her onto his lap, her arms going up around his neck as she gasped a little.

Stefan decided that was probably his favourite sound in the world.

She was straddling him now, grinding slowly, sensuously, mercilessly, sending shock waves of pleasure through him. Instinctively, Stefan recaptured her lips with his and resumed exploring her body, caressing her smooth skin as they made out heatedly. The high and sheer satisfaction drowned out any guilt or self hatred that might be lurking in some corner of his mind.

"Don't stop" Caroline sighed as Stefan's fingers slipped under her skirt, her grip on his arm tightening.

Don't stop, Katherine had said as they'd been parked in a dark alley and Katherine first had him try her drug of choice, rewarding him just like this when he'd gone through with it.

No, this had to stop.

Stefan pulled away, his chest feeling hollow as his body longed for contact with Caroline again.

Her confused gaze fell on him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" Stefan croaked miserably.

His words seemed to snap Caroline out of the lust-filled haze they'd been in. Her cheeks slowly reddened and she looked away, mortified.

"It's fine."

Stefan hated himself.

She moved back onto her seat and the ride home passed in silence. The first-class tickets to the latest romantic comedy in theatres felt heavy as stones in his pockets.

~*~

"What's wrong, Stef? Do you want some of this shake?"

His misery must be written all over his face if Damon was being nice to him.

"No thanks. I'm okay."

"Come on, you aren't. Tell me."

"It's Caroline. Just usual relationship stuff I guess. Feelings."

"Ah." Damon nodded wisely. "That old girl. I had that issue with Elena too." He opened his eyes wide and fluttered them in imitation of Elena. "You don't communicate enough, Damon." He said in a high pitched voice. "I never know what you're thinking, Damon. Sex isn't communication, Damon."

Stefan just sighed and went back to scrolling through Twitter. "Look at what Trump just tweeted. Fucking clown."

"Don't change the topic! Fine, if my relationship is too sexually unrelatable for you, maybe Enzo here can give you some advice."

"Don't look at me mate, Bonnie and I never fight."

"Never?"

"Nope. It's quite, how do you say it? Quite chill."

"No conflicts? No jealousy?" Damon prodded.

"Nah."

"Weird."

"Yeah, that's abnormal" Stefan added.

"Whatever, college relationships are different, I suppose. So, excited about your job starting next week?"

"Actually, I haven't accepted yet."

"What? Why?" Damon asked, shocked. "It's an NGO, Stefan. Your dream job, Mr. Do-Gooder-Save-The-World."

"Yeah, but I heard back from the publishing house today and it pays better. And I like books too..." Stefan trailed off.

"Oh, money-minded Steffy. I like it."

"Then I know I'm making a mistake."

"You have your whole life ahead of you, mate. Do what you think is best for right now." Enzo piped in.

"Take the one with more money and easier work and fewer hours, dumbass." Elena stood in the doorway, grinning manically, with Bonnie in tow, her expression unreadable.

"Uh, thanks. You good?" Stefan replied.

"Yes! Guess what? The boys get to town tomorrow!" She squealed.

"Boys whom?" Damon narrowed his eyes.

Elena huffed in disbelief. "Um, hello? My boys! Our boys!"

"They aren't my boys, let's be clear on that." Damon glared.

"The Mystic Falls gang! Tyler and Matt!" Elena squealed.

"And Liv" Bonnie added dully from behind her.

"Oh, I was just going to say Penny, but I heard she and Matt broke up, right?" Elena asked.

"Yeah, they did, right before the trip. Yikes." Bonnie grimaced. "He was a mess. Sheriff told me she found him wandering in the woods one night."

Just like they’d found Stefan the day Katherine had dumped him, high and disoriented and a wreck.

"Oh god. He probably needed the break then. Tyler’s probably helping him hook up with girls in every bar in the country," She smiled.

"So-" Stefan cut in. "Matt and Tyler are both Caroline's exes right?"

Elena giggled. "Oh man, I'm so used to Caroline being the jealous one"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but it's no big deal. We were all kids and we've known each other forever. Lots of drunken hookups..." She pursed her lips.

"Yeah, Care and Ty broke up the first year of college and as for Matt, he was like a rite of passage." 

Bonnie shot Elena a WTF look and left.

"I mean, I dated him too! He was Bonnie's first kiss. Good old Matty-blue-eyes, blond-haired All-American boy straight out of a Hannah Montana countryside TV, sweet and safe and the first crush of nearly every girl in our class..."

Noting Damon's expression, Stefan changed the topic hurriedly. "Oh, okay. Well, have fun. Would, uh, Matt's sister be coming by any chance?" Stefan asked casually.

It worked: Damon burst out laughing. "Vicki was Stefan's stoner buddy."

"Oh, I don't know. She wasn't in any of their road trip pictures. Actually, all the pictures have been of the boys. Let me check..." Elena walked back into their apartment.

Damon turned to Stefan. "Should we be worried? Am I being crazy, or did I get the vibe all three of our girls are in love with these Mystic Falls townies?"

"You say ‘Mystic Falls townie’ like our mother and cousin don't live there and it wasn't our favourite summer destination growing up."

"I don't know, I liked the Bahamas."

"Seriously, Damon, Stefan, don't worry over nothing," Enzo said.

Stefan's phone buzzed and his heart skipped a beat. 

But it was Sarah calling, and he decided to take the publishing job. It had nothing to do with the fact that the building was around the corner from Caroline's workplace.

[redditnosleep]

Has Anyone Heard of The Left/Right Game?

by NeonTempo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Final)

A few points before we start.

Firstly, I am not the protagonist of this story. I just went to university with her, and though she went on to become a professional writer, I most certainly did not. She'll be taking over from me further down but, until then, please forgive my slightly awkward delivery while I give you guys the necessary context.

Secondly, I don't know what you will make of the following events, and I'm sure many of you might consider it all some sort of hoax. I wasn't present for any of what transpired in Phoenix, Arizona but I can vouch for the person who wrote the following logs. She is not, and has never been, a fantasist.

Ok so I once knew a girl called Alice Sharma. She was an undergrad at Edinburgh Uni the same time I was. My educational poison was History, a degree which has greatly benefited my career as a bicycle repairman. Alice Sharma studied journalism, though perhaps "studied" isn't the word. It's not an exaggeration to say that she lived and breathed the subject. Editor-in-chief of the campus paper, recognisable voice of student radio. She was frustratingly tunnel visioned, and she was a journalist in her own right before anyone gave her a professional shot.

We met in student halls and became friends almost immediately. A meandering waster trying to stay off his parent's farm and an intrepid, ambitious reporter may not seem the most obvious pairing, but I learned not to question it. She was inspiring, and smart and she proofread all my essays. I’m not too sure what she saw in me.

We were eventually flatmates down in London where she chased her dream and I chased my tail. She got a few jobs here and there, but nothing befitting of her skills. After months of fruitless internships and rejections, Alice called a flat meeting, telling us that she was moving to America, accepting a position chasing stories for National Public Radio. The job had come out of the blue, the result of a hail mary application she thought had been dismissed out of hand. We threw her a bittersweet going away party and put the room up for rent.

That party was the last time I saw Alice Sharma. She dropped out of contact a few months after her departure. Complete radio silence. I assumed she was just busy so I carried on with my small but happy life, and waited for her to pop up on television with some important words below her name; Chief Correspondent, Senior Analyst… something like that.

The radio silence was broken last week, and, for reasons you’ll glean further down, I’m less happy about it than I would’ve thought.

Arriving home from work I found a lone email in my otherwise bare inbox. An email that would later be described as "suspicious" by my tech literate friends. Despite being born in the early 1990's I didn't own a computer until uni, and I've missed several important lessons in the world of cyberspace. Lessons like "Don't call it Cyberspace" of course and more importantly, "Don't open emails with no text, no subject and no sender's address."

I realise most of you would have deleted this anonymous, blank email immediately, my friends certainly would have, but beyond my basic ignorance about online safety, something further compelled me to open it. The only thing of substance in the entire message was a zipped folder, labeled:

Left.Right.AS

I don't have to explain what I was hoping those final initials stood for.

Opening the zipped folder I found myself staring at a stack of text files. Each one titled with a date, continuing sequentially from the very earliest file "07-02-2017". (To any Americans in the room this is the 7th of February).

I’ve since read the files a few times, and shown them to some friends. They don't know what to make of it either, but they certainly aren't as concerned as me. They think Alice is just in a creative writing phase and, if I didn't know her, I’d have to agree. But the thing is, I do know her. Alice Sharma only cares about the truth and if that's the case with these files, insane as it may sound, then it’s very possible my friend has documented her own disappearance.

The people who suggested this forum said you discuss strange occurrences etc. If you guys have come across anything to do with the below, or know any of the people involved, then please send any information my way.

Has anyone here heard of the Left/Right Game?

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 07/02/2017

They say great stories happen to those who can tell them. Robert J. Guthard is an exception to that rule. As I sit at his table, sip his coffee and listen to him recount the past 65 years it sounds like he's reading off a shopping list. Every event, his first job, his second wedding, his third divorce, none of them receive more than one or two sentences. Rob plows through the years, the curt, dispassionate curator of his own personal history. Yet the story itself is so fascinating, so rich with moments and so wildly meandering that it somehow stands on its own merits.

It's a great story, no matter how you tell it.

By the time Rob was 21, he'd gotten married, had a son, worked as a farmer, a mover, a boat engineer, and grown estranged from his spouse... Here's him talking about that.

ROB: Course my wife started to get dissatisfied, I was away a while.

AS: For work?

ROB:Vietnam.

AS: You were in Vietnam? How was that for you?

ROB: I ain't never been back since.

That was everything he had to say concerning his first divorce, and the entire Vietnam war.

Rob had four marriages after that, and even more professions. After the war he worked with a firm of private detectives, got shot at once by the mob, then he became a courier, which is how a poor boy from Alabama got to see the world.

ROB: I been to most of the continents with that job. I been to India. You from India?

AS: My mum and dad are from India yeah.

ROB: See I could tell.

He'd been arrested once in Singapore, after one of his packages had been found to be full of white powder. He spent three days locked up before someone got around to checking the substance. It was chalk.

A friend he made during his brief custody, Hiroji Sato, invited Rob to stay with him in Japan. Just getting over the breakup of his third marriage, Rob took the offer. He stayed in Japan for another 5 years.

ROB: The Japanese are good people. Good manners. But they got all these urban legends and ghost stories that Hiroji was crazy for, spent all his free time chasing them down. Like, you heard of Jorogumo?

AS: I don't think so"

ROB: Well she's this spider lady lives in the Joro Falls round Izu. Meant to be real pretty but real dangerous. Hiroji took us out there to get a picture of her.

AS: Did you ever meet Jorogumo?

ROB Nah she didn't show. None of them did. I didn't believe at all until we went to Aokigahara

Aokigahara, affectionately titled the Suicide Forest. The next stop on Rob's adventure. It's an area of woodland at the base of Mount Fuji, a notorious hotspot for young people looking to take their own lives. Hiroji, Rob's ghost obsessed jailmate turned best friend, took him to Aokigahara to chase "yurei" the ghosts of the forest.

AS: Did you find anything? In Aokigahara?

ROB: Well I ain't gonna ask you to believe me. But I was a PI. Professional cynic. Even I can't deny there was a spirit in those woods.

From that moment on, Rob's sentences start getting longer. A childlike excitement creeps into his voice. I get the distinct feeling we're moving beyond background, beyond Rob Guthard's old life, and towards his new one. The one he wants to talk about. The one that led him to contact the show.

ROB: It walked up to me through the trees. Looked like static you see on a TV screen but it had a human shape almost.

AS: Almost?

ROB: It was missing an arm. It reached out to me but I bolted outta that forest so fast. Hiroji never saw it, holds it against me to this day.

Hiroji had good reason to be annoyed. Rob says that Mr Sato had been going to the forest 2-3 times per year for three decades. To have a rookie come along and claim to have seen a yurei on his first trip? I'd be more than a little cranky.

But Rob didn't stay a rookie for long. In fact, it was in those woods that he discovered his current passion. The supernatural, or more accurately, the documentation and investigation of urban legends. Legends like Bloody Mary, the Jersey Devil, Sasquatch. Rob has looked into them all.

ROB: I figured if one was true then who knows how many others could be.

AS: How many have you proven so far?

ROB: Since Aokigahara? Ain't none of em had any proof to em. Except for one. That's why I called you guys up.

At this point, Rob can’t hope to repress his smile.

The Left/Right game appeared on a paranormal message board in June 2016. Only a few people frequently visited the forum and, of these regulars, only Rob took an interest in the post.

ROB: The whole thing had a level of detail you don't see in other stories.

AS: What details grabbed your interest?

ROB: Logs. High quality pictures. The guy documented everything, said he wasn't gonna play the game anymore. I think he wanted somebody to keep investigating.

AS: And you were that somebody.

ROB: That's right. I set about trying to verify his information right away.

AS: And how did it go?

ROB: Well... It didn't take long to realise the Left/Right Game is the real thing.

The rules of the Left/Right game are simple. Get in your car and take a drive. Take a left, then the next possible road on the right, then the next possible left. Repeat the process ad infinitum, until you wind up somewhere... new. The rules are easy to understand, but Rob says their not so easy to follow.

ROB: There ain't all that many roads where you can turn left and right and left and right and keep going. Most of the time you find yourself at a dead end or needing to turn in the wrong direction. Phoenix is built on a grid system so you can keep going left and right as long as you need to.

AS: Did you move to Phoenix for the Left/Right game?

ROB: That's right.

I try not to seem incredulous. Selling your house in another state, packing up and moving your whole life to Phoenix, Arizona just to play a game you saw on the internet? It seems like insanity. Rob smiles as he reads my expression. I can clearly read his expression too. "You'll see." It says. "Just wait."

I wouldn't have to wait long. Included within the 9 page submission Rob sent our show, was a long list of suggested items the chosen reporter should bring with them. Clothes for three days, a pocket knife, matches, bandages. There were also a set of qualifications the reporter should have. The ability to drive, basic vehicle maintenance and its human equivalent... first aid training. He didn't just want to talk about the Left/Right Game. He wanted to take one of us along.

Rob leaves a short while later to embark on a few errands, "Prepping the Run", as he calls it. He shows me to the guest room and we part ways, on good terms but very much aware of the other's poorly veiled opinions. He knew I saw him as a charming obsessive, chasing after a fairy tale. He saw me as a naive cynic, on the cusp of a new world. All I could think as I heard the front door close is that by tomorrow afternoon, one of us would be right.

More after this.

When I wake up the next morning, Rob is in my room, holding a tray which he'd knocked on the bottom of to rouse me. I don't manage to record the start of our conversation.

ROB: - I got bananas, strawberries, chocolate syrup. We got some more downstairs but I wanted you to wake up to something good. We won't be eatin' this stuff on the road."

Rob has made me waffles. He sets them down on the night stand and talks through the coming day as I eat. I'll admit it feels a little uncomfortable, waking up in a stranger's home to find said stranger already standing over me, but I quickly move past it. I tell myself that he’s an older man, accustomed to living alone in his own house, not usually having to think about boundaries. Anyway, he certainly knows his way around a waffle iron.

ROB: We hit the road at 9. I wanted to give you time to get ready before everyone shows up.

AS: There are other people coming?

ROB: We got a 5 car convoy on the road today. They'll be here in an hour.

This is the first I’ve heard of a convoy, and to be honest I’m surprised. The game is Rob's obsession, and I’m here at his request. The idea that anyone else would have an interest in today's drive is a little perplexing.

Half an hour later, sated, showered and dressed in the "functional clothing" Rob had so painstakingly outlined, I take my pack out to the porch. Rob’s already there, waiting for his associates to show up.

AS: I thought you'd be conducting a few more errands.

ROB: If you ain't prepared by the morning of, you ain't prepared.

AS: Hah ok I guess that's fair. Oh, Rob is the garage locked? The inside door won't budge and I wanted to mic up the car.

ROB: Yeah it's locked up I'll open it for ya.

AS: Thank you.

ROB: In fact it's about time I wheeled her out. Fair warning Ms Sharma, she's a thing of beauty.

To Rob Guthard, beauty took the form of a dark green Jeep Wrangler. Rob climbs in and lets it roll out of the garage, where it dominates every inch of driveway. The car is large; four doors with a roof enclosing the entire compartment. It’s also been modified extensively, yet another example of Rob's dedication to the game.

ROB: What're you thinking?

AS: I think you're two caterpillar treads short of driving a tank.

ROB: Hah yeah I fixed her up good. I put the winch in, heavy duty tires, the light rig on top is LED's. They'll make midnight look like noon but they don't use hardly any power.

AS: Aren't Jeeps open top usually?

ROB: Not all. This is the Unlimited. I like to have a covered car when I head on the road.

I climb in and stow my pack. Rob had removed the back seats to afford more storage space. The place is packed to the brim. Jerry cans of gasoline, barrels of water, rope, snacks and his own neatly packed set of clothes.

I wonder if the rest of our convoy would take the game so seriously.

ROB: We got Apollo coming up in 10 minutes. No one else has given me a time. I sent the schedule weeks ago, this always happens.

AS: His name's Apollo?

ROB: That's his call sign. Apollo Creed I think he said.

AS: Why are you using call signs?

ROB: Did I not tell you? Oh yeah we're gonna use call signs on the road, keep communication clear.

AS: What's your callsign?

ROB: Ferryman.

AS: ... What's my call sign?

ROB: I thought about it. I was thinking London, you're from London right?

AS: I'm from Bristol.

ROB: Bristol? That’s fine I guess.

It’s less than ten minutes before Apollo turns the corner. Rob jumps out of his chair and paces briskly over to the edge of his property, as his first guest pulls up and steps onto the sidewalk.

Apollo vaguely resembles his namesake, dark skinned, tall and noticeably well built, though it’s clear he couldn’t be less of a fighter. This Apollo Creed is all smiles and seems to have a penchant for laughing at his own jokes.

AS: How far have you come?

APOLLO: I've come out of Chicago. Took three days hard driving.

AS: And you know Rob from the forums?

APOLLO: Everybody knows Rob, Rob's the god! Ahaha

Rob walks over to Apollo's car, gesturing him over to talk shop. Rob’s clearly impressed with Apollo's choice of vehicle, a blue Range Rover packed to the ceiling with kit. I was more impressed with Rob himself. Somehow this 65 year old farmer's son had become respected in a vast online community. My dad is Rob’s age and he's just discovered copy and paste.

The rest don't take long to arrive. Two Minnesotan librarians, also around Rob's age, pull up in a grey Ford Focus. They’re brother and sister, and they've shared ghost hunting as a hobby their entire lives. I find it hard to suppress a smile when they meekly introduce themselves as Bonnie and Clyde.

CLYDE: We would have gotten here sooner we had to drop by to get some blankets. Pleasure to meet you ma'am.

AS: Pleasure to meet you too.

CLYDE: Would you be the journalist?

AS: That's right.

CLYDE: You used to write for the town paper didn't you?

He's talking to his sister there, she nods. Clyde is clearly the spokesperson for the pair, yet they both seem incredibly shy. Whether they admire the famous outlaws, or just the name, it's pretty clear they couldn't be more different from the real thing.

Next to show up are Lilith and Eve, English Lit students at New York University and proprietors of the YouTube channel Paranormicon. Unlike Bonnie and Clyde, Lilith and Eve have no issue holding a conversation. As soon as they learn who I am, and what I do for a living, they attempt to conscript me for an expedition to Roswell.

LILITH: We have a friend there, he's been seeing some-

EVE: -He's a seismologist

LILITH: Yeah and he's been recording readings over the years that show subterranean movement. Predictable movement.

EVE: We're going to see him in July, but we could work it around you if you're free.

AS: I'll have to check my schedule

EVE: OK cool let me give you my email...

They quickly hurry off to film an intro for their latest video, featuring a quick interview with Rob, who seems pretty welcoming of the attention.

The last two cars arrive within a few seconds of each other. A lithe, strong willed older lady who goes by Bluejay and a younger man going by the callsign “Ace”. Bluejay has arrived in a grey Ford Explorer. Ace, much to Rob's annoyance, has arrived in a Porsche.

ROB: Did you think that's gonna help on the road? I didn't write that-

ACE: It's my car. What am I meant to do,? It's my car.

ROB: You didn't read my itinerary, you got nothing packed in there.

ACE: I did read it sir OK? Calm down. I have a bag, I won't ask you for anything.

ROB: Well I know that's true.

Ace and Rob were off to a bad start. Ace takes a phone call, and despite my best efforts to get an interview with Bluejay, she doesn't seem interested in talking to a journalist.

With five cars, and seven travellers waiting for a green light, Rob hands out radios and charging packs, then launches into a quick safety briefing. Wear seatbelts. Stay in position. Communicate clearly and often. It’s at this moment I start to feel a little dismay. I like Rob, and clearly so does everyone else. He'd convinced all of them to drive across the country to join in with his game. I start to worry what will happen in the likely event that the whole thing isn’t real. Would Rob lose the respect of his peers? Would he accept failure when it comes? After seeing the effort he’s put into these runs, the next few hours have the potential to be wildly uncomfortable.

With a smile and a few encouraging words, Rob ends his briefing and beckons me over to the Wrangler. I clamber inside and make myself as comfortable as possible.

ROB: You ready for this Bristol?

AS: I'm ready.

ROB: Ok then let's hit the road.

The Wrangler pulls out of the driveway, and the convoy follows in order of arrival. Apollo, Bonnie & Clyde, Lilith & Eve, Bluejay and Ace keep a steady pace behind us as we come up to the first corner.

Rob slowly and deliberately turns left, checking on the others in his rear view mirror. He looks back to the road as Ace’s Porsche completes the first turn of the game. Shortly afterwards, Apollo checks in on the CB radio.

APOLLO: This is Apollo for Ferryman. How many to more go Rob? ahahaha

ROB: Hah as many as it takes.

I can tell Rob wanted the to reserve the radio for something other than Apollo's quips. But he seems to like Apollo enough to let it slide. I'm not sure Ace would have received the same treatment. We take the next right, then another left. Now safely assured that everyone's following correctly, Rob speaks my thoughts aloud.

ROB: You're wondering the same thing Apollo is.

AS: What do you mean?

ROB: You're wondering how many turns we're gonna take before we hit some wall or something. Before you find out this is all just a story.

AS: Does that disappoint you?

ROB: I'd be disappointed if you weren't thinking something like it. But now we're on the road I gotta say something and you gotta listen to it.

AS: OK...

ROB: We're coming up to a tunnel soon. Any time before we reach it you can get out, walk in any direction you like, and you won’t be in the game no more. Once we go through, you gotta retrace the route we took to get yourself back out that tunnel. That's when you’re home. And you gotta convince someone to take you back in a car coz I ain't ferrying you back 20 minutes in. You got till the tunnel to skip out on this, understand?

AS: I understand. Though I have to say I'm getting little nervous.

ROB: Ain't nothing wrong with a little nervous.

We've taken 23 turns by this point. Already I feel like we're traversing the city pretty effectively. Rob's heavily modified Wrangler solicits a few impressed glances from passersby, as well as several honks of respect from other Jeep drivers. Other than those few moments, everything seems completely indistinguishable from a regular morning drive. I even start to worry if there’ll be anything at all for this story. “Reporter Takes Drive With Interesting Man” isn’t exactly Pulitzer worthy.

Turn 33 leads us onto a short, unassuming street. A row of small businesses in a quiet Phoenician neighbourhood; liquor, second hand clothing, tools and, at the end of the street, a little shop selling antique mirrors. Ten or so people shuffle along the sidewalk, smiling, talking, planning their weekends. The only lone person is a young woman in a grey coat..

I briefly glimpse her at the end of the street, standing on our next corner, the back of her coat reflected in fifty old mirrors. Even from a distance I can see that she’s sullen, wide eyed and nervous. She shifts constantly on her feet, tugging at the button of her coat.

I look away to write some notes as we roll down the street. When I look up again, the woman is standing by my window, staring right at me. She’s smiling, a wide, unfaltering grin that seems almost offensive in its complete insincerity.

GREYWOMAN: Lambs at the gate. Hoping for something better than clover when all they find are things worse than slaughter.

AS: Rob what's happening?

ROB: Ignore her.

GREYWOMAN: He wanted to leave me so I cut him out. The lake was hungry it drank the wound clean.

AS: Miss, are you alright?

The smile vanishes, it snaps from her face and suddenly, the woman is furious.

GREYWOMAN: What do you think you're doing?! Have you gone mad?!

I reflexively press myself back in my chair as the woman, wild eyed and gaunt, slams her fists against my window, with every intent of breaking through.

GREYWOMAN: Would you dance down the lion’s tongue? It will shred you, you whore! It will shred you down to your sins! You fucking bastard!

Rob puts his foot down, and the Wrangler rolls defiantly away from the woman. As we turn the corner I watch her as she wretches, her every movement cradled in abject hysteria. She yells despairingly at the rest of the convoy, bursting into tears when the last car passes her by.

As she shrinks into the rear view mirror, I see her turn to a large mirror on the side of the shop, which the owner is in the process of polishing. I watch as she walks up to it, and with a convulsant scream, slams her head into the glass.

The mirror cracks around her forehead, the owner jumps back in shock, and as the woman pulls her head from the mirror's surface, the fractured spider’s web is dripping red. It all happens in a split second, and she quickly swerves from my view as we take the next left.

AS: Rob, what was that?

ROB: She's there sometimes.

AS: On that street?

ROB: On the 34th turn.

AS: Who is she?

ROB: I don't know. She's never acted out that much before though. Must be a special trip.

I find Rob's lack of concern a little unpleasant, and his implication that this woman's ravings were the symptom of an internet game leaves me more than a little perturbed. As I see it, there are a few explanations for what just happened, and none of them lead to a comforting conclusion.

If we had just encountered a bonafide crazy person, then one could argue that Rob is just seeing what he wants to see. Maybe he'd bought into the game’s story so much that every strange but explainable occurrence would be rationalised as the next step in his favourite paranormal narrative.

Alternatively, the woman could have been an actor, a more elaborate theory sure, but not unheard of. People have lied to the show before and Rob was receiving a tonne of publicity for this attempt from Lilith, Eve and I. I admit, Rob didn't seem like a liar, but good liars never do.

There is a third alternative however. An alternative which, if you put logic aside, explains the all troubling little details that I couldn't help but notice. Because as strange as the grey woman was, isn't it stranger that no one on the street would react? I couldn't recall a single glance in her direction by anybody on the sidewalk. Perhaps that theory falls apart when you consider the shock on the mirror seller's face but, when I think about it, he only reacted once the mirror shattered, and even then, I feel like his attention was on the mirror itself.

The radio crackles.

LILITH: Lillith to Bristol. Sara... Eve got that on camera! Do you have audio?

AS: I think it picked her up.

LILITH: My god that was so weird. Can you send us the file when we stop? Can you ask Ferryman when we're stopping?

AS: When's our stopping point?

ROB: For them, in about 30 minutes. For you? Well, you tell me.

Rob turns off a busy street just before a large intersection, onto a much quieter stretch of two lane road. Ahead of us the road slopes downward, leading into an underpass, which disappears into darkness.

We'd arrived at the tunnel.

AS: What is this supposed to pass under?

ROB: Ain't supposed to pass under anything, it's just there.

AS: And if we weren't playing the game?

ROB: Then it won't show. The question is, are you playing the game or not?

Rob turns to me. It’s the first time he’s taken his eyes off the road since we started. He pulls the car to a slow stop at the mouth of the tunnel.

ROB: You get out now you can go wherever you wanna go, but through there you'll need a car to get yourself home and, like I said, mine ain't turnin round for a long while. You understand?

It’s a dramatic statement, but unsettlingly, it doesn’t feel like he’s attempting to dramatise. It feels like I’m having something genuinely asked of me. Am I ready for what’s to come? Do I accept the risks involved? Do I consent to be taken down this road, and the next road, and the next? Am I prepared to see this game through, real or otherwise, to its end?

AS: What are you waiting for?

Rob smiles, and turns back to the road. He picks up the CB radio holds down the button on the side. The microphone crackles.

ROB: This is Ferryman to all cars. Anyone want to step out then pull to the side now. Otherwise, stay in formation and have some supplies at hand. We got a long ways to go.

Much like the game I’m so tentatively playing, my view of Robert J. Guthard seems to change direction frequently. I’d heard all about his life, but I’m sure that I know him. I like the guy, but I’m not certain that I trust him. And though I admire his dedication to the Left/Right Game, I’m not sure I’ll like where it might lead us. Yet as he takes us into the tunnel, his face vanishing and reappearing under the dim sodium lights, I can that tell he expects this trip to be a major step in his already impressive story, and this time, for better or for worse, I’m along for the ride.

[artificialqueens]

Something Borrowed 8/? (Witney) - Miss Bianca & jazz

Summary: This was going to be Courtney’s first visit to her childhood home in five years, and she’d made a lot of plans. Obviously, none of them had included falling into a whirlwind, summer love affair with her father’s 28-year-old fiancée, just three months before the planned wedding. But sometimes, things just happened.

Miss Bianca’s A/N: okay so I’d like to start by apologizing for the wait and saying that it’s entirely my fault… I failed to process the passage of time for almost two weeks, and essentially abandoned jazz (pls forgive me bb), but I’m back now. And here’s this. As always, feedback is appreciated - you probably know who we are by now.

jazz’s A/N: HELLO I’ve missed you all/this fic/Miss Bianca so very much. It’s about to get v Emo here, but we also get a new side character! All I’m gonna say is trust us, and get ready for chapters 9 & 10 ;)))

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Courtney had almost forgotten how small most cars were on the inside. The Uber she was currently riding in felt cramped, and the sleek, streamlined shapes of the vehicle seemed unimaginably foreign after hours spent riding shotgun in Willam’s Jeep.

She could almost hear Willam cursing at the other cars in her head, ready to lean on the horn or roll down the window to flip someone off at a moment’s notice. A few days ago, the image would’ve probably made her smile. A few days ago, she probably wouldn’t have been taking an Uber at all on her way to meet up with Alaska.

The radio was playing soft jazz, and the driver wasn’t a talker. Courtney couldn’t wait to get out of the car and out of her own head.

In the wake of her argument with Willam, Courtney felt entirely out of sorts, sure of almost nothing.

The only thing Courtney was sure of, though, was that time did not heal all wounds. In fact, with each passing day, Courtney felt herself growing more and more restless and disheartened.

Every time Willam left a room as she entered, every time Willam’s gaze passed through her, Courtney’s stomach turned. The times when Willam did look at her, only to turn away quickly with lips pressed together the moment Courtney noticed, were even worse.

It was becoming increasingly clear to Courtney that none of this would just blow over like she’d hoped, and that Willam wasn’t likely to budge any time soon. Willam had shut her out completely, all of the walls that Courtney had taken down so carefully thrown back up instantly after their fight.

Courtney had started taking every opportunity to get out of the house. She visited the beach by herself a few times, attempting, in vain, to rid herself of the tanlines she’d garnered without being bombarded by images of Willam, naked by the pool. She tried to shop for clothes, but reminders of Willam filled every rack of shoes and dresses, every changing room.

She’d refrained from texting Alaska with her problems for a while, not wanting to relive the fight by relaying it to someone else and hoping to avoid the scrutiny of her best friend’s all-knowing gaze for as long as possible.

But the loneliness and deafening silence in the house had gotten the better of her, and here she was: slamming the door to her Uber and shouldering her way into the coffeeshop Alaska had picked as their meeting place, scanning the space before spotting her friend seated by the window with an espresso.

Alaska looked up from her drink to waggle her fingers at Courtney, her hair swept half-up to sit on top of her head, and Courtney smiled weakly back.  

“I’m gonna order,” Courtney mouthed to Alaska, pointing toward the coffee bar.

She readjusted the tote bag on her shoulder and made her way over to the register, squinting up at the menu on the wall and letting out a heavy sigh.

If Willam were here, she would’ve ordered for Courtney, proud of herself for remembering how many sugars Courtney took in her coffee without even having to ask. Willam always remembered the smallest, most arbitrary things about her, actually: the way she liked her toast in the morning, the songs to skip past on the radio because Courtney had mentioned disliking them.

She remembered the spots where Courtney was most ticklish, both to avoid them when she wanted to soothe her and to poke at them when she was trying to cheer her up.

She remembered all the places that made her toes curl.

“Miss?” the barista prodded kindly, bringing Courtney back to the present.

Courtney shook her head and swallowed, placed her usual order as quickly as she could. The barista’s pity was almost palpable, and Courtney realized that she probably looked a lot more sad and pathetic than she’d previously thought.

“On a scale of one to abandoned puppy on the side of the road in the rain, how pathetic do I look right now?” Courtney asked as she slid into the seat across from Alaska with her drink.

“Well,” Alaska started, eyeing her. “Abandoned puppies are usually at least cute, so probably something worse than that.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You know I’m kidding, girl,” Alaska chuckled.

“Sorry, I know, just…” Courtney bit her lip, hands wrapped around her steaming cup to ground herself. “Willam hates me, is all.”

“Bullshit, Court.”

“No, I’m serious,” Courtney said. “She hasn’t said a word to me in, like, days. And you’ve met her – she always has something to say.”

“Courtney,” Alaska sighed, setting down her coffee cup and fixing her gaze on Courtney. “Yes, I’ve met her. And my introduction to her came right after she spent nearly a minute literally eyefucking you right in front of me. I’m sure she doesn’t hate you.”

“But she does,” Courtney asserted, staring down at her drink. “Things are different now, Laska.”

“Mmm?”

“I mean, eyefucking is one thing, but…” Courtney chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t just want that anymore. And I think that’s why she hates me.”

When Courtney glanced back over at Alaska, her friend’s eyebrows were raised, gaze scrutinous, and she suddenly felt the need to backtrack.

“No, I mean, I do want that, but I also can’t help but see her as, I don’t know,” Courtney paused, remembering how Willam had smiled proudly after getting her coffee order right. “See her as a girlfriend, or something. I just get caught up in, in her, and forget that she’s marrying my dad and…”

And not me, she wanted to say. She squeezed her eyes shut, suppressing the tears threatening to spill out. Talking about it was just as bad as she’d thought it would be, and sitting here, at a quaint table for two, wasn’t helping her cause at all.

Coffee shops were ruined for her now, Courtney realized. They triggered a whole slew of memories of when she and Willam would stop for coffees after a shopping trip, the caffeine sometimes necessary to wake them back up after fucking in the backseat or in a changing room.

It was during those stops when Courtney had felt most like they were a couple. A real life, normal couple – free to go on dates, to hold hands in public, to steal kisses in between sips of coffee. Free to plan their wedding together, with guest lists of only their friends, a menu that didn’t have to be elegant or expensive, and flowers in every color instead of in the simple pink and white theme that Dave and the wedding planner had decided on.

“So, how long have you known, then?” Alaska asked, her voice even and low.

Courtney scrunched her forehead, confused.

Alaska sighed heavily, and rolled her eyes.

“That you love her,” Alaska clarified. “How long have you known that you love her?”

It took a moment before Courtney could process what Alaska had said. She opened her mouth, intent on denying her friend’s words, but found her throat tight, her pulse quickening.

She thought back to all the mornings that she’d woken up to Willam sitting beside her, and the way Willam’s face would light up as soon as she opened her eyes.

And then there was the time when Willam had fallen asleep on the couch with her head in Courtney’s lap after an amusingly in-depth conversation about human anatomy, nose pressed into her tummy so her exhales tickled just a little bit. Her hair had been so unexpectedly soft and bouncy under Courtney’s hands, and Courtney had stayed there for hours, not wanting to move a muscle and risk waking Willam up.

She remembered the way her heart had leapt in her chest as she kissed Willam over the console at a red light, tasting bubblegum, feeling Willam smile against her lips instead of pulling away as the light turned green and people behind them honked their car horns impatiently.

Courtney was an honest person, and that was something she prided herself on. So she couldn’t, in good conscience, try to tell Alaska that she wasn’t head over heels in love with Willam Belli.

“So, I take it you didn’t know,” Alaska said dryly. “Until now, I mean.”

“Oh my god,” Courtney murmured.

“You’re so dense,” Alaska commented.

“I knew I shouldn’t have ever slept with her in the first place,” Courtney said, swallowing.

“Probably not.”

“She’s marrying my dad.”

“Yeah.”

“And she hates me.” Courtney rested her head in her hands, felt the gravity of the situation crashing over her.  

“Maybe she wouldn’t if you’d actually tell her how you feel,” Alaska suggested.

“She said that love doesn’t matter,” Courtney said, shaking her head. “I basically asked her to leave with me, like an idiot, and she laughed in my face.”

“She probably freaked out.”

“I’m freaking out,” Courtney said.

“Oh, really?” Alaska asked sarcastically. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Seriously, Alaska. What if she actually goes throughwith it? I can’t…” Courtney trailed off. “I don’t know that I can be there for that.”

“Well, the wedding’s only like a week away,” Alaska pointed out. “She’s probably gonna go through with it.”

“You’re no help,” Courtney whined, averting her eyes to look out the window. It was a nice day outside, sunny and cloudless, and Courtney couldn’t even attempt to enjoy it.

Right now, she loathed Alaska’s pragmatism, how she could be so level-headed when the circumstances clearly called for a more emotional reaction. More than that, though, Courtney wished she could deny the truth to Alaska’s words.

Her situation was hopeless.

Alaska softened at that, reaching across the table to give Courtney’s wrist a squeeze.

“You should tell her,” Alaska repeated. “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t try.”

“You’re probably right,” Courtney admitted, “but I don’t know the next time I’ll even get a minute alone with her. Besides the fact that she’s avoiding me, there’s all the wedding prep, and Farrah gets in in a couple days, and –”

“Oh, god, I forgot about Farrah.”

Courtney gave a single grim nod. “Dave made her a bridesmaid,” she said.

“Love that,” Alaska sneered.

“I mean, I’ve only met her once, and that was years ago,” Courtney pointed out. “Assuming she didn’t inherit most of our dad’s worst traits, she could be alright.”

“Probably not.”

“She was a nightmare of a suck up last time, though,” Courtney said. “So yeah, probably not.”

Alaska raised her coffee cup to that, and Courtney clinked their mugs together before taking a long sip, practically burning her tongue in the process.

—–

Over the course of the next few days, Courtney’s belief that Willam hated her was cemented even further.  

Every encounter with Willam resulted in radio silence. Somehow, the dull, expected ache now caused by her coldness was more painful than the sharper sting that had hit Courtney like a slap in the face every time Willam pointedly ignored her in the day or so after their argument.  

Watching and overhearing her interactions with Dave only upset Courtney more. The little fight that Willam had had left in her before was waning rapidly, her voice going soft again as she shied away from his shouting, head down and arms wrapped around her body.

Courtney wanted nothing more than to stand up for her, but Willam’s cold shoulder made it clear that she wanted to go it alone. Or, at least, that she didn’t want Courtney’s help or consolation.

Instead, Courtney busied herself with preparing the guest bedroom for Farrah, thinking about how much more fun it would’ve been if Willam had been doing it with her.

They would’ve put Willam’s shoes in her closet, just to see how she’d react. They would’ve fucked on the bed that would be hers and then, if Farrah turned out to be annoying, they’d be able to smile satisfiedly at each other, another secret that was just theirs to keep.

It wasn’t that Courtney had anything against Farrah. The product of one of her father’s early affairs, Farrah was the younger half-sister she’d never really asked for or wanted. Still, she seemed sweet enough for a 17-year-old – maybe a little too sweet, if you asked Courtney.

It was fine, Courtney reasoned. She could babysit if she had to in the days leading up to the wedding – at least it would give her something to do. She shivered, continued to fluff up a pillow she’d been aggressively fluffing for minutes now.

Courtney couldn’t stand being unable to talk to Willam about Farrah – about all of it, really. Willam was the person she wanted to vent to, to gossip with, and having to distance herself was harder than she ever could���ve imagined.

Sometimes, Courtney suspected it was just as difficult for Willam, swearing that she could hear phantom footsteps stop right in front of her bedroom door at night, only to pad away after thinking better of entering.

Those moments were the only indication Courtney had to suggest that Willam wasn’t just going through the motions at this point.

Courtney could barely stomach this hollow shell of a Willam that seemed to sleepwalk around the mansion during the day, all vacant stares and sealed lips, forgoing her usual activities to slip an extra shot or two of liquor into her mid-afternoon Diet Coke.

Courtney noticed, even though she wasn’t supposed to.

And despite her best efforts not to, she couldn’t help imagining what things would be like after she left, with Willam all by herself except for an empty house and a husband who didn’t really care about her.

If the life was gone from her eyes now, then what would she become in five years? Ten?

What would happen when Dave replaced her like the trophy wife she was to him, as soon as she was all used up, no longer young and pretty enough to suit his needs anymore?

Courtney looked down at her hands, realized suddenly that she’d nearly beaten the pillow she’d been working on to a pulp. She dropped it and ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath in through her nose.

Sinking down onto the bed, she stared at the blank wall opposite her, wringing her hands in her lap.

The whole house felt like a trap at this point, as big as it was, and Courtney was utterly exhausted from the constant ache of missing Willam. It was like living with her fight or flight response constantly active, her nerves shot from being so on edge, and she wanted to get out as quickly as she could.

But as she took a moment to think about Willam’s future as well as her own, she wasn’t sure she could handle the thought of leaving her here on her own. For the first time, she began to consider the possibility of apologizing to Willam and trying to return them to where they’d been before. Maybe she could survive not being anything more than an affair to Willam, if it kept Willam from being miserable. Maybe, with a little more time, Willam would change her mind.

Or maybe, their luck would run out and they’d get caught, and Willam would resent her for the rest of their lives.

Courtney grabbed the pillow next to her in frustration and hurled it across the room, startled when the sounding of the doorbell immediately followed.

She rose from the bed and trudged downstairs, entirely unprepared for the enthusiastic hug that met her as she swung open the front door.

“Oh my god, Courtney!” Farrah squealed in her ear.

As her brain caught up with what was going on, Courtney smelled hairspray and cheap perfume, feeling almost dizzy as the combination went to her head. Before she could even try to reciprocate the hug, Farrah was releasing her and stepping back, holding her at arm’s length.

Courtney grimaced at the wide smile frozen on Farrah’s face, wanting to move away but held captive by her surprisingly strong grip.

“You don’t look too good, honey,” Farrah said, her lower lip poking out slightly in a false pout. “Do you want another hug?”

“No, I’m –”

Ignoring her protests, Farrah pulled her in again, squeezing her and rocking them from side to side.

“You need to take care of yourself,” Farrah tsked, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked at Courtney, one thumb rubbing over the dark circles under her eyes. “You know why they call it beauty sleep, right?”

“Uh… no?”

“Because it’s only us beautiful girls who need it!”

“I don’t think that’s why,” Courtney tried, but Farrah shook her head.

“Of course it is,” she said, pushing past Courtney and walking into the foyer. “Now, where’s Dad? And the lucky gold digger?”

“Did somebody say gold digger?” Willam’s voice filtered down the stairs, and Courtney glanced up to see her on the landing, resting her arms on the railing.

Willam had her head cocked to the side, and Courtney could practically feel the attitude radiating from her even a whole floor away. Courtney hadn’t seen Willam like this in what felt like weeks, and she was suddenly grateful for Farrah’s arrival.

“Ooh, hi!” Farrah exclaimed. “Are you Willam?”

“Well, unless you planned on calling me Mom,” Willam snarked, walking down the stairs. “But I’m too young and hot for that, so.”

“I guess we all have that in common!” Farrah chirped.

Willam reached the bottom of the steps, and Farrah shuffled over, clearly with the intention of trapping her in one of her hugs. Dodging the hug expertly and shooing Farrah away, Willam leaned against the banister. Courtney grinned.

“I have a mom anyways,” Farrah said with a forced giggle, clearly trying to recover from Willam’s rejection. “She’s not that much older than you, actually.”

“Ooh, I doubt that.”

“I mean, a bit older, I guess,” Farrah shrugged. “I think I must’ve gotten the pretty from Dad’s side of the family, though. Mom was cute enough to catch him, but not enough to reel him in.”

“Because she got herself knocked up,” Willam replied.

“Mm, you think so?” Farrah seemed genuinely curious, and Courtney couldn’t believe how easy she was making it for Willam to read her.

“Pregnancy ain’t cute,” Willam said. “And it fucks with your body, too. That baby bump never goes away completely, and once you got it, the mens move on to flatter stomachs and perkier tits.”

As she spoke, Willam tugged at her dress, pulling it down ever so slightly to reveal more of her cleavage.

Farrah faltered for a second. “Oh, you’re funny,” she said, before turning to Courtney. “She’s a funny one, isn’t she?”

“Not usually the word women use to describe me, but I’ll take it,” Willam said, smirking.

Courtney swallowed hard. There were plenty of other words that came to her mind, none of which she could say aloud.

“I’m just so excited to finally be here with you guys,” Farrah continued, clasping her hands together by her chest. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Wow, you’re the real deal, ain’t you?” Willam smiled amusedly as she looked at Farrah. “I had to act extra dumb and blonde to get the ring, but you wouldn’t even have to put in any extra effort.”

Farrah stared at her for a moment, and then shrugged and laughed.

Glancing over Farrah’s shoulder, Willam caught Courtney’s eye, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she saw how hard Courtney was trying to suppress her own giggles.

When Courtney blinked, the moment was gone – but a small smile remained on Willam’s lips, and Courtney could feel her pulse speed up in response, butterflies swarming in her stomach briefly as she recognized the Willam she’d met at the start of the summer, the one she’d hated on sight and then quickly learned to love.  

—–

Courtney’s ideal afternoon wouldn’t have been spent getting poked and prodded, measured and sized – and it definitely wouldn’t have entailed being stuck in a room with Farrah, listening to her half-sister chatter endlessly about nothing in particular.

Courtney knew that she herself could be talkative at times, but it seemed that she had absolutely nothing on Farrah. In the day and a half that they’d spent together, Courtney had learned virtually all of her interests, as well as her whole life story, which wasn’t entirely uninteresting. Being born to a Las Vegas showgirl and raised by her and her coworkers, as it turned out, was an unconventional and exciting life.

However, despite all of that, Farrah had managed to turn out shallow, dense, and ditzy enough that Courtney was convinced she would set feminism back at least ten years in her lifetime.

“Are we almost done here, do you think?” Courtney said, struggling to keep her tone pleasant as she looked down at the seamstress currently toying with the hemline of her bridesmaid’s dress. She understood that last-minute alterations were necessary, but the amount of time they were taking seemed excessive.

The seamstress shot her a look in the full-length mirror propped against the wall in the guest bedroom, and Courtney sighed.

“Have you seen Willam’s dress yet?” Farrah asked off to her left.

“I was with her when she picked it out,” Courtney said wistfully, remembering the two of them pouring through wedding planning magazines at the bar until Willam had found the perfect dress.  

“I haven’t seen it either,” Farrah continued, ignoring Courtney’s response. “Oh my god, I bet she looks so pretty, we have to go see when we’re done. I heard it has diamonds on it.”

“It doesn’t have diamonds on it,” Courtney replied dryly.

“It must’ve been so expensive,” Farrah gushed. “Can you imagine, wearing a dress like that? This whole wedding is just, ugh, goals.”

“I guess,” Courtney sighed.

Farrah frowned. “What, you don’t think so?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Courtney said after a moment. “I’m not the one getting married.”

“Aw, Courtney,” Farrah cooed. “It’s okay, you’ll find the perfect man someday. And it shouldn’t take too long, with how cute you are!”

Courtney stared at her own reflection in the mirror, blinking. It was truly stunning how completely Farrah had managed to miss the mark. She almost wanted to laugh.

“Thanks, Farrah,” she said finally.

There were a few moments of silence, and Courtney watched the seamstress working at the bottom of Farrah’s dress, trying to figure out what was taking her so long.

“So what’s the deal with you and Willam, anyway?” Farrah spoke up again.

Courtney’s stomach dropped, and she watched the color drain from her own face. Had she said something? Was the tension between them really still that obvious?

“Like, do you guys get along?” Farrah continued. “Do you think she’s a good fit for Dad?”

“Oh,” Courtney sighed, relieved. “Yeah, we… get along fine.”

“Huh, it doesn’t seem like it,” Farrah said. “You guys, like, never talk. Or look at each other, or anything.”

Courtney wanted to roll her eyes all the way into the back of her head. She didn’t owe Farrah an explanation, and she knew that – but it wasn’t as if Farrah would pick on up any subtext, and so Courtney figured there was no harm in giving her something.

“It’s just complicated,” Courtney said, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think Dad is a good fit for her, actually. He’s not the nicest guy in the world, Farrah.”

Farrah looked at the ground, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I know,” she said finally, her tone surprisingly serious. “I’ve always known that.”

She glanced up, and Courtney met her gaze in the mirror, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“It’s not just your mom he screwed over, Courtney,” Farrah said. “My mom got pregnant with me by accident, and then brought me up herself with no support from him at all till I was like, ten, and she doesn’t make that much money. And she sent him letters, too, like, every month, trying to remind him that I even existed.”

Courtney shook her head.

“I blamed you and your mom for my parents’ problems for a long time,” Courtney admitted. “You know, you were the evidence my mom needed to finally leave him, and I didn’t want to leave LA then.”

“I get it,” Farrah said, nodding. “I was jealous of you for most of my whole life. I wanted to be you, because I thought you had the perfect life, with a dad who loved you and stuff.”

“Dad’s never loved anyone,” Courtney murmured.  

“Really?”

“He never loved me, not really,” Courtney said. “Or my mom. And he’s not marrying Willam because he loves her, either.”

“Well, that’s sad,” Farrah pouted.

“I think she’s gonna end up hurt,” Courtney added quietly, closing her eyes momentarily. “And I don’t want that to happen, because I… I care about her, a lot. More than I probably should.”

Farrah looked over at her, as if she had more to say, but was interrupted by the seamstress getting to her feet with a smile.

“Alright, girls, we’re all done here!”

Courtney was thankful for the out, her pulse pounding in her ears as she hastily slid out of the gown and back into regular clothes before she said too much. She felt short of breath, suddenly desperate for a minute alone to collect herself and her thoughts.

She scurried out into the hallway, ignoring Farrah’s request to wait for her. Her intentions to retreat to her bedroom were derailed almost immediately, though, as she heard Willam’s voice coming from inside the master bedroom.

“You poked me, bitch, ow.”

Courtney felt herself gravitate toward the half-open door without thinking, stopping just beyond the threshold of the bedroom to look inside.

As she caught sight of Willam, everything stopped for a moment. She would’ve gasped, but it was as if she’d forgotten how, completely enamored by Willam’s silhouette in the mermaid cut gown, the sweetheart neckline that perfectly complemented the beading on the bodice. Her profile was striking as she looked downwards, lips parted and hair piled messily atop her head, arms lifted slightly away from her body as if touching the dress might damage it somehow.

She was the most beautiful woman that Courtney had ever seen.

The seamstress took a step back, as if to admire her handwork, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. Willam spun, the skirt flaring out below her knees, and her face opened up as she smiled, wide and genuine, a delighted laugh bubbling up in her chest. Courtney watched with her heart in her throat, unable to shake the feeling that the smile, the laughter, was meant for her.  

Farrah seemed to approve of the gown, too, appearing abruptly behind Courtney to express her praise.

“Oh my god,” Farrah squealed. “It’s perfect!”

Willam’s head lifted quickly in surprise. Her gaze passed right over Farrah, not even acknowledging her, settling on Courtney instead.

Courtney knew that her expression was probably as easy to read as an open book, and she didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, she hoped that Willam could feel the weight of her emotion, how much she cared, and wanted, and loved.

They stood there, eyes locked, for what felt like minutes, before Willam looked away, twisting her hands together in front of her.

The dismissal stung, but Courtney was still reluctant to give up. She was sure, now, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were before.

Even if there was no happy ending, Willam needed to know how she felt. Or else, Courtney thought that her chest might burst from keeping all of it inside.

[snowdice]

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 55]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 22 and what’s done of chapter 23 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

I probably won’t do much tonight, but I’ll do at least a few.

Janus did not respond to Roman’s quip about the car. Instead, he shoved past Roman the second he heard the boy’s voice. Roman recognized the kid immediately from the pictures he’d been sent along with his mission directives.

“Virgil,” Janus said, crossing the room to get to his little brother without regard to anything else. “Thank god. Are you alright?” He grabbed his face and titled it as though to look for injuries. Nothing about what Roman had learned about Janus in the past few hours would have prepared him for the way he descended directly into mother-hen mode, cupping the boy’s face with delicate fingers.

He was even less prepared for when Virgil shoved his hands away with an eye roll and a “I’m fine, Janus,” and Janus immediately started to cry.

Janus pulled Virgil into a hug, and Roman winced in sympathy for Janus’s injured ribs when the kid hugged him back tightly. They should really get that checked out as soon as the two of them had their moment. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” he said, voice all types of wrecked. The past few hours of worry that Janus had kept careful hold of lashed out suddenly, and it was even more than Roman had anticipated. “I showed up to the house, and you were gone, and the window was broken.” Virgil was getting a bit wobbly lipped himself, and Roman couldn’t exactly blame him with how gutted Janus sounded. “Where did you go? How did you get here? How did you know to come here? Did Logan send someone else after you?”

“Dad let the name slip,” Virgil explained, “and Mom sent someone to pick me up, but I’d already accidently heard that she’d killed him with the radio Dad keeps in his room. So, I really didn’t want to go with the man, and he was mean especially when I said no.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke and he too started crying. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. At first, I just wanted to get out of the city so Mom couldn’t find me. Once I was out, I decided to try to get here because dad said he worked with the owner, and no one was answering their phones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Janus said. “That was my fault. I broke my phone. I should have thought about you wanting to call me.” He pulled back to kiss Virgil ever so gently on the forehead.

“Hey, what gives,” another man said, and Roman blinked because that was Remy Gates and Remy was definitely supposed to be dead. “I was dead, and I didn’t even get that much of a heartfelt reunion.” Janus seemed to freeze for a moment and then turned to him.

 There was a long almost painful moment of silence where Janus just stared blankly at Remy. Roman recalled the short conversation that Remus and Janus had in the car about Remy and how Janus was probably more upset about the man’s death than he was allowing himself to express. Remus clearly had known what he was talking about, because there was a stunned, surprisingly vulnerable look on Janus’s face as he looked at his brother’s father.

Remy casually put his hands in his pockets. “Sup, kid.”

Roman had never seen someone’s face change so dramatically so quickly. His face twisted up into a scowl and his eyes lit up with fury. He looked like he was about to finish the job for his mother.

 “You bastard,” Janus spat. “You bastard, you aren’t even dead?”

Remy seemed unconcerned with the fact that the man was basically foaming at the mouth. “You sound disappointed.”

“Do you know how much stress and hurt you caused… Virgil?!”

“Virgil, huh?” Remy asked, and goodness the man must have a death wish. “Don’t worry, Virgil and I already worked that out. I’m going to teach him how to shoot as an apology.”

“No! You aren’t!” the man next to Remy that Roman didn’t recognize said.

“Like that is a sufficient apology for all that duress! How could you?!

“It wasn’t exactly my plan, Jan,” Remy drawled.

 “Remy please,” the man next to Remy said.

“Oh, well, pray tell, what the hell was your plan you absolute ignorant, wretched excuse for a human being?” Janus asked.

“Janus please,” the man said.

“Just let them do it, Uncle Emile,” Virgil said with a sigh.

Remy scoffed. “Oh, please,” he said. “There was no plan, obviously. Do you know me at all?”

Janus full on exploded in rage at that. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Where do you get off on being such an idiot all of the time? You have a 15-year-old child and you just waltz into danger like it’s nothing and almost die! I thought you were dead!”

 And like, seriously, Remy really must be comfortable with the concept of his own demise after whatever had happened to him earlier, because all he said was, “What, would you have missed me?”

“No,” Janus said, far too intense for that to be the truth. In fact, tears started to prickle at the corner of his eyes.

“Aw,” Remy cooed, still mocking, but perhaps just a bit gentler now. He walked the couple of steps to Janus and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t cry, kid. I’m okay. I promise.”

“I’m not crying,” Janus insisted even though his voice cracked a bit and the tears were starting to escape out of the corners of his eyes. He attempted to push Remy away, but his efforts were weak and easily resisted. He gave up a moment later. “You’re crying!”

“I’m really not,” Remy said with a chuckle.

“You will be if you don’t shut up and let go of me,” Janus insisted even though when Remy tugged him closer into a proper hug, he folded himself into the embrace like a small child and proceeded to cry into the man’s shoulder.

34116

Well that was… an event. Roman didn’t know what to think about Janus at this point. He’d been cold, calculating, and scary at the beginning of their adventure, and now he was sobbing into a man’s arms.

“Aw, there it is,” said Remus cheerfully.

Janus didn’t look at him, but just pulled one of his arms out of the embrace to flip him off.

“As touching as this is,” Dad interjected. “Now that everyone is here and aware that no one is dead.” He looked specifically in Remus and Roman’s direction. The expression on his face was one Roman was very familiar with from his childhood. Roman grimaced even before Dad continued with, “Would anyone care to explain themselves?” in a dark tone.

Uh oh.

  Chapter 23

“Would anyone care to explain themselves?” Logan asked the room filled with the most frustrating human being he’d ever met. He must have infused his voice with the desired amount of ire, because everyone in the room seemed to wince simultaneously except…

“No thanks!” Remus chirped. Logan shot him a tired look and stepped forward. “Wait! Dad! No!” Logan swiftly put him in a headlock.

“We’re going downstairs,” he told the others. His son was a bit wiggly when Logan started to pull him towards the elevator in the other room, but he didn’t actually put up much of a fight.

 He let Remus go when they got to the elevator. The elevator was small enough that they ended up taking it in two groups. Logan ended up in an elevator with Lena, his sons, and his brother.

There were a couple of moments of awkward elevator music. “I am very displeased with everyone in this elevator.”

No one responded but Patton who patted him on the shoulder. Logan turned on him. “You are at the pinnacle of my ire.”

There was a few seconds of drawn out silence, and then Patton removed his hand. “Wow,” he said after a moment. “You could hear a pen-acle drop.”

 “Kids, you no longer have an uncle,” Logan said coolly.

“That’s right,” Patton said with a smile despite the glare Logan was sending him. “You only have a puncle now.”

Roman snorted out a laugh but looked quickly away when Logan glared at him.

The elevator came to a stop and they climbed out of it. “You all go to the conference room while I wait for the rest. Except you,” he pointed at Lean. “Fred can debrief me. You go get that checked out.” She shot him a thumbs up (because apparently the lack of disrespect for his authority had rubbed off on her) and wandered off towards medical.

 “Um,” Roman said tentatively.

“Yes?” Logan asked, already even more tired.

“Also, Janus may or may not have a broken rib. At least he said he might have.”

“Why on Earth is he walking around, then?” Roman just shrugged in response to Logan’s question.

“And send someone down to look at his Janus,” he called after Lena right before she turned the corner. “Anything else pressing?” he asked the three still with him. “No? Then I’ll see you all in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“Conference room 16 or 17?” Remus asked.

“Remus, everyone here is aware that room 17 is a broom closet,” Logan said.

Remus sent him finger guns. “Conference room 17 it is,” he said turning to strut off down the hall. Roman shot Logan an awkward half smile before following after his brother, and Logan’s own brother jerked forward to smack his lips against Logan’s forehead before waltzing off after them.

Why was his family like this?

[thesportssoundoff]

Attempting to Play Matchmaker: The 2018 schedule opening

Joey

November 13th

I started this like two weeks ago so forgive me if I'm off on any of the news. Just bein' real on it. I got up to the main event for the Belem show and then took a long break.

What you see above is the UFC's schedule for 2018. The start of the year  has been laid out and it features 9 events through March. For comparative measures we had 8 in 2016 and 2017. It's worth noting that this could be the last year they're on Fox so there's a lot riding on these events to do some numbers. According to Forbes (https://www.forbes.com/sites/trentreinsmith/2017/11/05/ufc-announces-nine-events-for-first-quarter-of-2018/#583e5ca8df1c) there's TWO Fox cards scheduled for the early portion of the year which to my knowledge is normally NOT how they do things. Even if you want to account for NFL numbers being down, playoff NFL numbers are always higher than anything else going on for the year so right off the jump, the UFC will have two big FOX events and then two Fight Nights which literally will suckle of the teet of the NFL/Fox relationship. The first being the Sunday January event which will likely follow an NFL Divisional Round game and the OTHER being a game the week of the Super Bowl. I don't know if Fox has the super bowl this year but either way, that's a BIG night regardless. It's been successful for them in the past.

So you got 3 PPVs, 2 Fox cards and then 4 Fight Nights, the last of which potentially being a Fight Pass card. Maybe in the perfect world for the UFC, that FP card is the first show a digital provider is getting so a Netflix or an Amazon deal is in play. What I'm going to attempt, quite possibly in a rather poor fashion, is to JUST do the main and co-main events with perhaps a name or two sprinkled on top of that who may appear on the card. I'll also try to be as realistic as humanly possible, avoiding anything that's simply not gonna happen like McGregor on free TV or Jon Jones vs Brock or whatever. I'm also going to try NOT to steal any ideas discussed on the Dojo Talk Podcast where much was discussed to the tune of much radio silence. Just gonna try to fill this early schedule out.

UFC Fight Night From St. Louis, Missouri Jan 14th (Sunday on FS1)

Main Event: Amanda Nunes vs Holly Holm

It's been said that Nunes vs Rocky Pennington was in talks around UFC 219 before Pennington got hurt. It seems like Holm is looking for a bigger deal (or Cyborg is or somebody is) for that Cyborg/Holm fight so let's do Cyborg/Cat Zingano eventually and just roll with Nunes vs Holm in a fight that would garner a rather large heavy audience in Missouri. St. Louis seems like the sort of town Holly Holm could really pop numbers wise and Woodley isn't fighting on free TV (OR IS HE?!?!?!??!) so just gotta take your losses there. You would probably prefer this as an underneath title fight on a PPV but beggars can't always be choosers AND I'd argue a big ratings # to talk Fox into a few extra green bills might top the 50K more buys Nunes could generate if she generates any revenue at all at this point.

Co-Main Event: Jeremy Stephens vs Yair Rodriguez

So I've been toying around a bit for some potential ideas for a co-main and one idea was Darren Till vs somebody but I don't see an immediate fight that makes sense. Till could use a big, big spotlight night but this one doesn't feel too perfect for me. Till vs Wonderboy would be great but I really think the UFC is hot for Perry/Ponz vs Till winner at some point. Yair Rodriguez has been gone for a while but I can't think of a fighter at 145 lbs I'd like to see bounce back with a vengeance more than Yair. Jeremy Stephens is coming off a win and he's a pretty damn popular fighter so I think that's a fair matchup for free TV as a co-main under a big title fight.

We know that Vitor Belfort vs Uriah Hall is apparently a done deal here. I don't think that's a main event and I think that while it would work as a co-main event, giving a co-main spot to Vitor Belfort given his potential leaving of the UFC would be like giving Mitrione a co-main spot on that show in 2016 where they had concerns that HE was leaving. They didn't----and so Hall vs Vitor seems like a fine third fight. Put an action guy as the 4th spot or two big HWs to get the masses excited and move on.

Click inside for more of me trying to play God and failing miserably. 

UFC 220 Boston, Massachusetts Jan 20th (Saturday on PPV)

Main Event: Daniel Cormier vs Volkan Oezdemir

There's been some internet scuttlebutt that this is actually the co-main event and the REAL main event is going to be McGregor vs Ferguson. That's cute and all but I'm not exactly sold. You get the feeling Conor's not fighting anywhere other than LA, Nevada or New York these days so I'm not buying that. Volkan vs DC might not sell 1,000,000 PPVs on its own BUT it's a really credible title fight and I don't see anything that immediately jumps out and makes me thing they're going to find an event that can top it.

Co-Main Event: Stipe Miocic vs Cain Velasquez

Look I can dream, ya know? Sipe vs Cain would be a fantastic co-main event and PROBABLY a top flight main event of its own. I just don't think that the UFC can trust Cain to step up and do something.

I guess a really solid third fight to back up those two would be something like Kevin Lee vs Beneil Dariush or Evan Dunham. Plus you gotta have a capable HW backing up any fight where Cain is on. Gotta protect yourself on a show like this. Plus Joe Lauzon because it's Boston.

UFC on Fox Charlotte, North Carolina Jan 27th (Saturday on Fox)

Main Event: Derek Brunson vs Luke Rockhold

Brunson has already suggested that this fight might be in the works. Either Rockhold or Weidman. There's basically 6-8 middleweights just hanging around looking to fight one another in Jacare, Weidman, Brunson, Rockhold, Boetsch and Yoel Romero. Brunson/Rockhold is a rare fresh fight at 185 lbs so if I'm forced to pitch a fight, this would be the one I'd go for.  Besides Brunson is FROM North Carolina so yeah, perfect fit. No complaints I can't imagine.

Co-Main Event: Yoel Romero vs Jacare Souza II

I had previously thought Jacare could bet he headliner for a week from now in Belem BUT I have another idea for the spot. Jacare vs Romero is the PERFECT rematch and given Romero's insistence that his next fight be three rounds, I like this one as a fantab co-main event for a Fox card. If Brunson/Rockhold and Jacare/Romero don't get you excited then you can just miss me right here right now.

As for the rest of the card? Well we've seen some fights filter out recently but nothing I'd consider to be main card worthy. Randa Markos vs Julianna Lima could be on a main card as an opener I guess? What if you do Siyar Bahadurzada vs Brad Tavares since I believe Siyar is 100% focused on middleweight as of this time.

UFC Fight Night Belem, Brazil February 3rd

Main Event: Fabricio Werdum vs Alexander Volkov

I mean I don't see why not? I originally thought of Curtis Blaydes here but the more I think about it, the more I think that's rushing things. Plus I did an entire ramble on the DTP about how the UFC shouldn't rush Blaydes. Volkov instead makes good sense given his stock in the division and the streak he's on. Wins over Tim Johnson, Stefan Struve and Roy Nelson sets him up well for a run UP the rankings and Werdum is the best available scenario plus it's a main event in Brazil.

Co-Main Event: Rashad Evans vs Lyoto Machida II

Let's accept that both Rashad and Lyoto aren't going anywhere. Once you've done that, let's take it a step further and argue that neither guy deserves a real competitive matchup to this point. Rashad hasn't won in 100 years and Lyoto is on a similar minded slide. Both guys are big names who can bolster a card so put them on against one another as a co-main event on free TV and see who can rebuild their name value a teensy bit in the process.

As for the rest of the card? Thiago Marreta vs CB Dollaway seems like a fine fight assuming CB is coming back down to 185 lbs. I spent about a week thinking of what to do with Paulo Costa and I've decided that him vs Sam Alvey or Tim Boetsch seems like a fine fight for his progression. Francisco Trinaldo vs Lando Vannata can find a spot on this show and the same goes a fight like Antonio Carlos Junior vs  Anthony Smith and Pedro Munhoz vs Marlon Moraes.

UFC 220 Perth, Australia February 10th (Saturday on PPV)

Main Event: GSP vs Robert Whittaker

It would SUCK if the UFC decided they wanted to do a big event in Perth and the healthiest/best Aussie in the company wasn't headlining. Especially givent he money spent lobbying to get an event in Perth. So how about we just abandon all pretenses and do this fight up? Unify the belts and we're all happy campers.

Co-Main Event: Tyron Woodley vs Robbie Lawler/RDA winner

I was torn between Joanna/Rose II and the Woodley fight but the best way to hype up GSP vs Woodley (because it's coming y'all) might be to just put this fight as the co-main event. I think when you bundle it all together, it's a pretty appealing 1-2 punch. Lawler in general likes to stay busy and RDA fought in June and was the back up plan if Maia turned down the fight with Woodley in July SO you're talking about a relatively quick-ish turnaround for both BUT I think they can handle it. Lawler fought in March then in May then in July one year. If not then just give Woodley one of the Till, Covington, Wonderboy trio to figure it out.

The rest of the card is what it is really. Expect plenty of Aussie filler with a pretty solid third fight to help put the whole puzzle together. If you REALLY wanna get nuts then maybe you do Rawlings vs the winner of the 125 title tournament. Also if they're smart Meagan Anderson will be on this show against some 145er they find in the mountains somewhere. Ediane Gomes FTW. Also I swear to god you can bet on them giving Dan Kelly someone who hits really hard because they like to be mean.

UFC Fight Night Erwin, Texas February 18th, 2017 (Live on FS1)

Main Event: Ovince St. Preux vs Patrick Cummins

I'm sort of stuck here. When the UFC goes to Texas they tend to bring big shows relative to the quality of free TV. The problem is this far ahead I can't really find a fight worthy of a main event slot. My first though in all honesty was Cody Garbrandt vs John Lineker but that may be too soon given that Garbrandt just had surgery. I was tempted to go Val Shevchenko vs the loser of the 125 lb tournament but eh....bleeegghh. I even consdiered James Vick vs Kevin Lee but I think I booked Lee already. As such, OSP vs Cummins makes sense. Two big dudes being big dudes. Plus we can just make this a good undercard.

Co-Main Event: Paige Van Zant vs Rachael Ostovich

Oh-kay. PVZ turned down Jessica Eye and Val Schevchenko. Rachael Ostovich vs PVZ makes some sense given that Ostovich will probably be a fighter who gets bounced from the TUF tournament but has the ability to generate some buzz given her looks (it matters y'all. We're trying to sell an event here). PVZ vs Ostovich would also be a pretty fun wild wacky kind of fight and if you're putting Paige on a main card, I can't imagine her not being really high up on a show---especially for FS1.

Bonus Fight: Sage Northcutt vs BJ Penn

WHAT?! WHAT?! Look that's THE fucking fight to make. I ain't even about to hear shit from y'all. Gimme this fight and fuck all exceptions. This is the main event unfortunately for most folks. Throw in James Vick vs Beneil Dariush and Alexa Grasso vs Danielle Taylor. Leggo.

UFC on Fox Orlando, Florida February 25th, 2017

Main Event: Rose Namajunas vs Joanna Former Champion II

I would prefer if they just moved Joanna up a weight class. To me that'd make the MOST sense. I don't make the rules here though so might as well just do a rematch, right? To me this is the perfect co-main event for a big PPV but instead let's just make it a title fight on Fox. Max publicity, easy to tell story, big "name" fight to bump a number and get yourself a juicy rating in late February.

Co-Main Event: Colby Covington vs Kamaru Usman

Don't tell me you don't want to see this even if it's for selfish purposes.

As for the rest of the show? Welp there's plenty of top flight fighters from top flight gyms in Florida who can be relied to turn a solid gate. Thiago Alves maybe? Nina Ansaroff on the strength of two straight wins could take on Jessica Andrade or Karolina K. Ben Saunders vs Cowboy Cerrone is a weird fight that sort of appeals to me as a main card opener. Jorge Masvidal vs Gunnar Nelson would be fun too.

UFC 222 Las Vegas, Nevada March 5th (Saturday on PPV)

Main Event: Conor McGregor vs Tony Ferguson

How about we unfiy these fucking titles and move on with our lives?

Co-Main Event: Demetrious "Mighty Mouse" Johnson vs TJ Dillashaw

I mean it's what they're doing. This seems like the path they want to take and I guess I can be sold on it. Big weird super fights for all.

As for the rest of the show?  Dominick Cruz should be better by then so maybe you can rebook Cruz/Rivera. Francis Ngannou can get a filler fight vs a somebody if you need to keep him busy assuming he beats Overeem. Dustin Poirier vs the Gaethje/Alvarez winner por favor.  The winner of Pettis/Cejudo, assuming they're asked to fight again, could take on Deiveison Figuerido or Tim Elliott.

UFC Fight Night ???, England (It's listed as London and it seems like London is where it'll be but the UFC wants to go to Liverpool as well) March 18th, 2018 (Fox or FS1?)

Main Event: Darren Till vs the winner of Mike Perry/Santiago Ponzinnibio

If Perry beats Ponz, I think we'll all be sold on his legit-ness. Besides he brings excitement and a touch of fun to this WW in rebuild. That and there are goofs who seem to really like the idea of these two jawing and fighting eventually. Having said that, I expect Ponz to beat Perry pretty decisively which would give us a fantastic clash of really good striking WWs with developing ground games.

Co-Main Event: Michael Bisping vs Dan Kelly/Sam Alvey/Jack Hermansson/Brad Scott/Anybody outside of the top 15

If Bisping is seriously retiring in London as he's stated then this feels like a perfect chance for him to take a nice step back in competition. Bisping has fought in FIVE straight five round fights so how about we give him somebody who isn't going to make him go five rounds. Pick a name out of a hat basically and let Bisping go out with a high probability for a win.

As for the rest of the show? I mean where the fuck has Arnold Allen been recently? Give Arnold Allen somebody a main card fight. Joanne Calderwood can fight a TUF castmate at 125 lbs. Oskar Piechota can get a fight too.

[purplefictionmom]

I'd normally be like "ALL THE QUESTIONS" but I'm really interested in 7 and 15 (but like if you wanted to do them all then hell yeah pls do)

You know what, Imma answer them all, cause I love you darling~

All answers under the cut, cause I’m sure I'll get long winded, as usual haha

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?I mean, there was a story that I had been sitting on for...10 years, I think? I just didn’t know how I wanted to tell the story. It started as a mockumentary type of thing, then when that didn’t fit the narrative style I wanted to tell, I moved to a classic modern fantasy style, but that didn’t pan out either.

Then, the game called “What Remains of Edith Finch” came out and it hit me so hard that I nearly passed out: that is the perfect narrative style for the book idea I’ve been sitting on!!

Incidentally, if you haven’t played/watched someone play it, “What remains of Edith Finch” is an excellent game and Jacksepticeye does a wonderful let’s play of it :D

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?Not as much anymore, but I used to hate bringing up “...And the Things That Followed.” Just for a short what-for: ATTTF is a Left4Dead/2 fanfiction, reader-insert that started as a sort of experiment: I perused lunaescence and picked a fandom that I was familiar with, but that didn’t have a lot of fanfiction to choose from. I mostly wanted to see if smaller fandoms stay active, even with very little content to choose from. And boy, did I get my answer.

The biggest reason that I ended up embarrassed over it was because I hadn’t intended it to be a romance fic (I mean...the two main characters are the reader and a Hunter, and what with necrophilia being really gross and all...), but I had readers out and out demand for it, to the point of going on strike from reading my fanfic. This was years ago, mind you, so I caved like a wet noodle and now hate that particular fanfic, to the point where I don’t even want to write the two sequels that I already had planned and half-written.

So, it started out as embarrassment, now its more I wish I could just delete it and forget it exists, but I’m one of those authors who has a really hard time deleting anything, even things I hate haha.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?For the very first, ultimate scene I picture in each fic/story/novel, it could really end up anywhere in the final version.

After that first initial scene I see, I try to start as far back as I think I can get away with and move forward from there, so I guess the short answer is I write from beginning to end, no matter how it ends up being at the end, haha.

4) favorite character you’ve writtenI guess this is supposed to not include characters I don’t own, but that’s no fun so here you go:

OC: A supernatural Hunter named Silva and another hunter (who I have an rp blog for) named Theodora ‘Timmie’ Wilson

Non-OC: Writing Yusuke from YYH and Asgore from UT

5) character you were most surprised to end up writingI’m not quite sure what this question means, so I’ll just take a stab and guess it’s talking about how a character can end up differently on paper than how you first envisioned them in your head.

And that award goes to Silva. I expected her to be a hard, cold killer, but she had so much inner turmoil and hidden thoughts that she was definitely the hardest character to write until I actually started to understand her.

Which took an ungodly amount of time, tbh haha.

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change nowProbably how often I use the double-hyphen. Its meant to be an alternative to using commas (which, I use to many as it is anyway haha), but now they litter my writing like popcorn on the floor at a midnight release, haha.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?Honestly? A little of both.

I’m someone who sees fanfiction (and any fanwork at all, tbh) as legitimate art forms, but there are so many who not only don’t agree, but they belittle and question those who participate in fandoms.

There are days I have all my shit together and I’m ready to defend my fanfiction to the death, along with all my original content; I have my sources, I have examples, so on and so forth, but other days...

Well, let’s just say there are days I don’t even volunteer that information to people willingly haha.

8) favorite genre to writeOther than fanfiction, I love horror, fantasy, and scifi the best, though there are plenty of times it feels like I’m hardly writing for any of those genres at all, haha.

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?Fanfiction, most of the time, but I also listen to songs on the radio, discuss ideas with friends/family (my step-dad was the only person when I was growing up who nurtured my love for telling stories and many of my ideas for novels came from talking with him over the years), or I also like to free-write.

At least, I think its called free-writing haha. I basically just put my pen on paper and just talk to the page with my pen. Sometimes, its just a rant, but more often then not, I’ll find a story or character hidden there.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?All of the above, haha. In the perfect atmosphere, music is playing in the background, and I’m completely alone with no distractions, but since that’s not reality, I’ve sort of forced myself to adapt to what I can.

My computer (where I do 90% of my writing) is in the living room of my house, so my hubby is usually around, and if he’s playing overwatch, then its usually a few voices playing in the background.

If it gets to be too distracting, I just put headphones in, but I also write in notebooks and I take those everywhere, so for that, I just write when/what I can as I go along.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?Definitely dialogue, but also my prose. Honestly, all of it, haha. I look back at stuff I wrote years ago and I wonder how anybody thought I was any good, haha.

12) your weaknesses as an authorIf I had to pick one, its probably that I tend to either over-explain, or under-explain. There is no in-between, haha. My first drafts are often a mess of me focusing in on the details of one room and then not describing a setting for two chapters or more.

13) your strengths as an authorProbably my ability to logically follow order of events, even though I don’t plot, like, at all. This also makes it easy to see where I can divert from what’s expected and explore different avenues.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?Not really? I tend to either put my whole library on shuffle, or I have a dedicated writing playlist that’s full of background music from video games and other things like that.

15) why did you start writing?It started as an outlet.

When I was about 10, my dad came home from work one day while my mom was still at work and while I watched, packed all his stuff into his car, called my mother and told her that if she didn’t get off work soon I’d be home alone, and then left.

I was in a complete and total depression from around then until well into my late teens (I have a little depression now, and a slew of other problems, but now for diff reasons). On top of my dad leaving, my mother, step-father and I all moved to a completely new state, where I started to bomb academically and had literally no friends until almost a year later.

It started out as angsty pre-teen poetry (a lot of which actually still pretty good, even as I go back to read it), then it spilled into fanfiction and fandoms, and around the age of 13--once my step-dad found my love of writing and wanted to pull me away from fanfiction--I finally started writing original ideas out.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?Silva, and a few others. Not so much because their stories are left untold, but moreso because of the way they helped shape me as a writer and the things I was interested in writing about.

The debate about whether or not a writer should write about a certain subject usually stems from readers, but I tend to lean toward the argument from a writer’s point of view: there are subjects that I broached as a teenager that I needed to explore in order to be who I am today, as a person and as a writer. Not to say I have something horrible in my writer’s past that I wouldn’t be able to share, but more that it might be questionable about the age that I delved into those topics. (and no, I don’t mean just smut, though that is included in what I’m talking about)

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?Stop wasting your time trying to please family members with what you write. Most of them are going to ignore the whole of your writing and focus in on the one swear word you threw in for characterization anyway.

Write what makes you happy; whether or not its publishable isn’t the point. You’re just starting out and you need to write; to get better, to learn the ropes, so just go WRITE!

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?Oh geez...at the beginning, everything I read affected my writing style. Fanfiction, published novels, everything.

Probably my biggest influencers would be “The Green Mile” by Stephen King, “The Hobbit” by JRR Tolkien, “This Present Darkness” By Frank Peretti.

And while these are hugely different authors with different writing styles, they more influenced me in my way of thinking. Of expanding my imagination of what could be if I just had the courage to write it.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?I either have a notebook filled with notes about characters/information, or I use a website called Hiveword(dot)com. It’s a novel tracking website that also advertises its program (which you have to pay for), but the website itself is free and you can store all the information about your book, characters, timeline, etc.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?Both, but I get more done with longer sessions. I know that seems like a no-brainer, but its more because of how I prep myself for my writing time:

I have to have a glass of water or cup of coffee, I have to have my music playing (which, with spotify could take a few minutes to load), I have to re-read the last page or so of what was previously written so I can get back into the feel of it, then I can actually sit down and write.

the little spurts end up being in my notebooks and they’re a mess, honestly, haha.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?I used to cringe and close it immediately, but I’ve been trying to analyze and see the biggest differences in my writings from a then and now standpoint. Sometimes its really hard, if its particularly bad or whatev, but its been a real confidence booster when I can see where I was and where I am now.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?Not uncomfortable, per se, but I tend to try and think of things from a reader’s perspective at the same time I write, so there are times when I get a little too involved in what’s happening on the page, haha.

HIAPOTS was a terror to write at some points because of this.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?All of it, if I’m being honest, but obscure things specifically? Hmm...

I mean, probably the fact that I give all my pets personalities and conversations between each other? I do it without thinking, but there are times where I’ll find myself using lines or situations from this weird little thing in my actual writings, haha.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?OMG SO MUCH. Like, idk about ‘expert’, but I have so much useless trivia in my head because of being an author. Talk with me for an hour and see if I don’t throw ‘fun facts’ into the mix of our conversations haha.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud ofOh ugh...umm...let me to look...

From a currently unpublished reader/sans fic I’m writing:You understand, don’t you, Sans? 

Sure, Sans understood. Sans always understood. He was the one who didn’t make waves, or overturn boats--you could always count on Sans to be the reassuring nod when you felt lost or the understanding ex who’s perfectly okay with just letting things die, even though the ending came as the greatest punchline ever written in history:

He hadn’t even seen it coming.

(I love delving into characters’ heads, and i love it more when i can do it well enough to feel comfortable with letting other people read it, haha)

From Part 6 of my Garrus/Reader serial fic:“They were my cases,” Garrus admitted, his eyes finally leaving Castis’s in favor of looking at the floor, “And I can’t watch it happen again.”

If Castis didn’t have such a steely reign on his composure now, Garrus might have been clued into his father’s line of thought. As it was, Castis was being forced to realize that he had been wrong in his assessments of his son.The older turian had always thought Garrus shirked the rules and regulations as a form of rebellion, since Castis stepped in and forced him to quit training for the spectres--as if to prove he didn’t care about what his father cared about. Now, Castis realized the reason Garrus pushed them aside so easily was because he did care, maybe too much.

(Honestly, the whole argument between Castis and Garrus in this part of the fic is something I’m proud of)