#this was fun!! hopin to try some more in the future if i can find more time

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Okay I was gonna do another SG:WoT post anyway because we’ve got a new King interview but THEN, he released the cover to issue four so you KNOW I gotta geek out about this.

(Sorry that this blog is all SG:WoT, all the time now, but I am just. Insanely excited that Evely is drawing Supergirl. Feel free to block/mute these posts as needed. XD)

Okay, so!

First! The interview!

It’s on (ugh) screenrant so I’m not gonna link, I’m just gonna nab the interesting bits:

On the different direction of the book, and if he wanted to go back to the original Adventure Comics vibes: “So, the idea of this thing was to strip her story down, because Supergirl has a majorly weird history in terms of continuity. At least 13 writers have rewritten her origin over the years. Her dad has 13 origin stories; sometimes he's evil, sometimes he's a robot, sometimes alive, sometimes he's dead. She's changed dramatically in the last 10 years, between coming back to life to the New 52 to Rebirth. She's gone through so much that it's hard to get a hold of her. Not to mention in the '90s, when I was coming up, she was like an ectoplasmic space angel. There's so much there, and I just wanted to take all that stuff off and get to the core of the character; get her out of her normal environments and her normal conflicts. It seems like all our stories are about her dad or her relationship to Superman. Instead, let's see the purity of that character.”

On starting the book the way he did: “...I wanted to start out with a very human moment of a person turning 21 and getting drunk. And a person who is getting drunk because they want to be alone, and they just want to forget about the shit that's happened in their past. That's such a human moment. And the fact that she's Supergirl, so she waits till it's legal - because these super people, they follow the rules. She waited, and now it's legal and she can have this moment. She goes off by herself, with her dog that always follows her, and she has a moment where she can be free. For a lot of people in the US, whether you've been drinking since you were 14 or started that day, your 21st birthday and the day after are days you remember for the rest of your life. It's a day of freedom and consequence, and I wanted to show Supergirl going through that.”

On rising to the challenge of helping Supergirl perform better, sales/popularity-wise: “ When I first got on this book, I called Steve Orlando, who had just written a Supergirl run. And he was the one who opened my eyes to how good the character is. He had such insight into her. He was like, ‘There is a difference between Clark and her, and what she's gone through.’ He just laid it for me.”

On starting the book off with Ruthye’s journey, and gradually building to Kara’s: “ I was like, "Okay, this is going to be from the point of view of someone under Supergirl." And so I switched the point of view to this new brand new character, whose name is Ruthye. And we went from there: we start with Ruthye's story, we see her discover Supergirl, and she's our audience. She's our way in, the way Robin has always been the way into Batman.”

On whether or not other characters will show up, outside of Supergirl and Ruthye: “It's like my Superman: Up in the Sky, where it's a distillation of the character. You'll see other characters, but the focus of every issue will be on Supergirl. And it's something where at the very end, you can be like, "Why is Supergirl great? Why is she important to the DC Universe? What is her future in the DC Universe? Here, read this one trade that can answer all three of those questions at once."So, there will be other characters in the Super universe. But the focus will always be on her; on Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. It's her finding out about herself and her own strength.”

On Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow vs. his other titles: “Supergirl is my first 2021 book, or my first book of the 20s. That wrapped up my books of the teens, and now we're in a new generation. God willing, from the moment I started this book, I was like, ‘I'm gonna take a risk, and I'm gonna write books that are a little brighter.’ I know that's coming from me, and it's not to say we're going to avoid conflict or we're not going to explore the depths of the human soul. All that stuff will be in there. But these books are made from a place of joy, not from a place of anger; from a place of hope, not from a place of despair. It very much contrasts to those other books, in my mind.”

On how he thinks folks will react to the Krypto cliffhanger: “I mean, they're gonna think it's a good cliffhanger. That's how I think they're going to react. They're going to say, ‘I want the next issue.’ That's literally my job as written in my contract. Something where at the end of an issue, someone says, ‘I want more.’ So, that's how I hope they react.”

As mentioned, this is not the full interview; the whole thing can be found on screenrant, and I think Tom King shared a link on his twitter. 

And now, as always, SOME THOUGHTS:

I love that he brings up the fact that so many Supergirl stories focus on Zor-El and Clark, and how he was like, ‘let’s not do that.’

That’s my big gripe with modern Supergirl comics; they are trying so hard to make a statement on why we need both a Supergirl AND a Superman, that they end up spending ALL THEIR TIME talking about Clark, instead of, you know. Telling a fun Supergirl story.

Same thing with Zor-El! I know folks love Rebirth--I like it quite a bit myself--but I think the nostalgia goggles prevent folks from remembering that the whole first arc of that book was re-doing the ‘Cyborg Superman’ garbage from the Nu52. 

Speaking of Rebirth, really like that of all the recent SG writers he coulda talked to, he talked to Steve Orlando.

Like, if ya can’t get Gates on the phone, get Orlando.

(I get the sense that Gates doesn’t like this book, actually, based on a vague tweet. But don’t quote me on that.) 

Looks like Ruthye is gonna be our POV/audience insert character for the whole run. I’m...mmmm. I don’t love it, but I understand the logic here. Especially since he compared it to Batman and Robin--how you use Robin as your entry point for a bat book. 

And you know what? Kara’s supporting cast needs some help, so. Welcome to the Superfam, Ruthye.

I also love the explanation behind the drinking thing, as well as the fact that Kara waited until it was 100% legal for her to drink because OF COURSE SHE WOULD.

I am so worried that Krypto is gonna die b/c of what we saw in Future State. I’m over here with my Pepe Silva board like, ‘Well, what if Kara agrees to help Ruthye because Krem MURDERED HER DOG?!?! WHAT IF THIS IS JOHN WICK IN SPACE?!?!?!’

So I am DISMAYED that King does not reassure us AT ALL.

Thus I am forced to cling to this tidbit here: “ But these books are made from a place of joy, not from a place of anger; from a place of hope, not from a place of despair. It very much contrasts to those other books, in my mind.”

Killing the dog would not be joyful. XD So, like. I’m REALLY HOPIN’ HE’LL BE OKAY.

AND LASTLY, (Except not really)

I have some additional, miscellaneous thoughts unrelated to the interview b/c I’m me and I’m loving having a Supergirl comic back on the shelves, however polarizing it may be.

Something I realized, when details started to come out regarding the book, and that other folks have now noted as well: Kara was 16 when Rebirth launched in 2016; she’s just turned 21 in 2021, making her one of the extremely few comic characters to age in real time.

I don’t think that was planned, but it is cool.

It occurred to me on a re-read that Ruthye never calls Kara Kara in her narration, only Supergirl. And I was a little sad! But then I remembered that Kara wouldn’t necessarily reveal her identity to people she’s helping, she would just be ‘Supergirl’ to them. 

I really do love how, so far, there has been NARY A MENTION of Kara angst-ing over being in Clark’s shadow, or being Superman’s cousin.

It appears that her drinking alone on a remote planet is more related to trying to forget her trauma/grief related to Krypton. MAYBE. We don’t know yet.

The Clark thing could still come up. I hope it doesn’t. 

(Interesting to note! Kara recently appeared in Action Comics, helping Clark and Jon investigate some Kryptonian refugees; IDK how closely these books will necessarily ‘work together’ in terms of continuity, but! It’s possible that the discovery of those mysterious refugees was triggering, thus sending her on her way to her own solo title.)

(Well. That’s gonna be my headcanon, anyway. XD)

AND LASTLY, (for real this time)

ISSUE FOUR COVER!!!!

Okay, some immediate thoughts:

GOOD LORD IT’S STUNNING.

I loooooove the fire motif, reminds me of a part from the Rebirth run, where Kara met the Super-Man of China, and they visually referenced All-Star Superman, having the Kryptonians kind of...become the sun.

Also STAR CHART?!?! PIRATE MAP!?!?!?! 

The VIBES I tell you, the VIIIIIIIBES.

Also I love that it’s just Kara.

Don’t get me wrong! I like Ruthye just fine so far! But yeah, yeah, give me some more solo-Kara focus, even if it’s just in the art.

Just realized that once this thing gets collected as a TBP, we might get some Evely art backmatter. OhHhhHHhhH YESSSS. 

Anyways, the long wait for issue 2 begins! 

[flightofaqrow]

promotion

qrow + James ( @caeloservare​ )

There were a few familiar faces, but most occupied with conversations, so James picked less busy one to approach, “Qrow.”

He gave a friendly smile, reaching for two glasses of champagne to offer one to Qrow.

“hey, General. Headmaster?” he absolutely takes the offered glass, simply relishing the swirl and weight in his hand for now, “ tell me, what does make a man want to hold two high ranking positions and everything that comes with ‘em?”

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The tie is too tight, he’s so sure it is. But same time James was sure it’d just slide and be crooked whole time, if he didn’t tie it this precisely and tightly. What a shame if he suffocates on his own tie, barely first day on duty as headmaster of the Atlas Academy. Not really first, but first this pompus with guests, ceremony protocols and a banquet later. A good occasion to meet and establish some additional connections, but he was growing tired. Ironwood already led the army, shouldn’t be this tensed over an academy. Truth is, it is much more than just an academy and he won’t let Ozpin down.

But he can let his tie, damn it. He sighed and loosened it a little. If any nosy reporter would try to make it a new controversy, he’ll try to be polite throwing them out the door for just as scandalous offending savoir vivre. Besides, banquet was only half formal and long enough all guests could spontaneously forget about third of the protocol by now. Looking around proved that in fact half of it was forgotten or ignored already. James smiled to himself.

There were a few familiar faces, but most occupied with conversations, so he picked less busy one to approach. “Qrow.” He greeted him with a small nod. “Mind if I join you for a bit? Being in the centre of spotlight is surprisingly tiring.” He gave a friendly smile, reaching for two glasses of champagne to offer one to Qrow.

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suit and tie occasion, tch. they’re lucky Ozpin convinced qrow to at least wear a standard vest and dress shirt. it most certainly isn’t even buttoned all the way to collar. he’s already watching Ironwood fuss, an amused grin meeting him when he walks over. for being so stuffy in the head, he seemed to enjoy the fripperies that came along with his fancy titles and positions just as little as qrow did. well, it gave them something in common, maybe.

“hey, General. Headmaster?” he absolutely takes the offered glass, simply relishing the swirl and weight in his hand for now, “what do i even call ya these days, huh? anyway, can’t argue there.” now, he toasts in half-genuine, half-mock congratulations for the promotion and takes a sip, “but ya did kinda sign up for it. twice over.”

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“General is fine.” Ironwood smiles. He’s so used to the title, sometimes he forgets he has a name to it. Moreover, it sounds much more reliable than “headmaster”. Title that actually carries something very serious to it. Or maybe he just likes it.

He notices the bits of mockery in the toast, but it takes much more to get close to offending him. “I’m afraid I did.” James chuckles quietly. “I’ll tell you worse - I knew exactly what I was doing. I don’t recall anything about signing up for the banquets though. Luckily there seems to be a few upsides of having to attend those.” He takes another sip and tastes it in silence.

“We both will have more work now, won’t we?” He doesn’t seem any worried about it. Rather low-key enthusiastic.

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yeah, the man would attach more to the military, wouldn’t he. “we will.” qrow takes a longer drink. he doesn’t want to think about work. his never really ends. even as they speak, he’s scoping out the room. seeing how people take to the new situation. patrolling for intruders with his eyes on mere instinct if not assignment. the champagne is almost gone already.

one arm crosses over his chest while the other holds onto the glass, but rests the elbow of that arm on the hand now nearby. “knew exactly, huh? so tell me, General. what does make a man want to hold two high ranking positions and everything that comes with ‘em?”

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“Don’t you know, Qrow? The very same thing that made us all agree with Ozpin.” He smiles, fond of the thought. “Double the duties, means also double the chances on our side. That’s a useful advantage, if you ask me.” He puts the glass down on the table. It’s still half full, but he can’t really afford drinking it whole with every person in the hall today. Look he gives to tiny olive bowls, gives away that he’s tempted to start visualizing his ideas on improptu map.

“The Council meets tomorrow. Most likely they won’t be too pleased to see me, since with two votes I am a serious threat to their authority. We have to be subtle and careful, but you see where I’m going with this? It’s not a burden, but an opportunity to take.” Glints in his eyes are bright, matching the future he sees. “I am honored to do it. Even if it means press conferences.” Ironwood chuckles, slightly embarrassed.

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“oh yeah, i follow that.” he follows Ironwood’s glazed over gaze, too. the General definitely has plans upon plans, and that’s usually something qrow would respect but it’s clear already how much the man considers advantage to mean leverage. and leverage means power. but as long as its power used in accordance with Ozpin’s plans upon plans, he figures it’s acceptable. still, he’s curious, “what i wonder is what exactly kinda opportunity you’re hopin’ to make good on.”

the rest of his drink doesn’t last long, and an empty glass soon sits beside the half-empty one. Ironwood looks so happy and pleased with himself, ready to step up and step in, and possibly even step on, all in the name of what’s right. this should be a celebration. but qrow has that same twisting in his gut he always does, especially in atlas, and even the lightness in his head after a few glasses of bubbly doesn’t lift his mood. “you say you aim t’be subtle and careful, but subtle doesn’t usually come with an army and a school full of trainees, General. which is exactly what the council’s prob’ly thinkin’ too.”

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“You’re starting to sound like a reporter. Do I have to remind you that we’re on the same side?” Corners of his lips twist the smile into more bitter one and he narrows eyes a little. That’s not going to ruin his good mood, but clearly forgetting whom he’s talking to, wasn’t a good idea. They’re allies, but not friends. Worth remembering. “I report everything back to Oz, you don’t have to play collecting intelligence on me.” But somehow that’s fair that Qrow didn’t leave his job even on a banquet. Seems they have something in common after all.

“That is exactly why I’m not planning to take advantage of it. Ever. They’re not the enemy, but to win this war, we have to create as much highly advanced power as possible, which will increase… chances of survival. And safety. For everyone. You can relax and cheer up for once, Qrow. I’m not happy to hold more strings and I’m not intending to pull them, but to keep them as safe as possible.”

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“humph,” qrow’s eyes drop along with some of his pricklier spines at a well-placed fair reminder; angry red reflects reflects back to him as he looks down, stares off, only to meet the glasses left on the table once more. Ironwood did have a point. a spy’s life tended to bleed into everything. leaving work behind, especially knowing that fight continually rages, is something qrow does find difficult to do. but that compounds upon a naturally curious personality.

“don’t worry. i’m not here to play spy on you. askin’ info for Oz, and askin’ so i can get to know how ya tick are two different things.” and he can’t argue with the idea of gathering things beneath one’s wings to protect them, even if they do double as tricks up a sleeve. it’s a good enough answer that allows qrow to uncross his arms and finally offer a crooked smile to the man, “…so fine. those are some pretty promises, General. i’ll hold ya to ‘em.”

he peeks around at more fancy clothes and listens to other uptight conversations happening in the background, “…although, somehow i doubt i’ll be able t’relax any more’n you can around here.” maybe if they ever come around with something a little stronger than champagne.

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“Different motives leading to same outcome for your conversation partner. But… Fair enough, I suppose.” James shrugs it off and his eyes follow Qrow’s dropped gaze to the glass. He almost wishes he could just drink and have a normal conversation tonight, but there are much more important things that happen to be worth the effort and wait. “I have a lot of curious and not necessarily friendly eyes on me recently. I won’t be surprised if you’d be first to find a nasty secret that would actually matter. Do me a favour though, and don’t try make money of it.” General’s smile grows a little at his own, very poor joke. “And if I ever break my word, you have an unofficial permission to break my nose. Well, at least try to.” He finally looks up to meet Qrow’s eyes again.

“I am hoping to get my chance to lower the guard soon after I’ll see off last official guests. It might not fit your methods of getting to know each other,” Good mood apparently means he is going to tease a bit about it. “but feel invited for a drink in headmaster’s office. My office.” He corrects himself.

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same outcome? what like building trust? Ironwood shouldn’t be worried about that either way, if he didn’t have to be. and it seems like he’s not, just wanted to point it out to be obnoxious. qrow frowns, looking back to the General, his eyes adding a pair to those which he just described, watching as the man tries to dig himself out of this hole.

“heh,” a smile finally cracks, “nah, i ain’t in the business of ransoming information anymore. won’t dig if ya don’t make me. although i might break your nose jus’ for fun someday.” or just to prove he can after that taunt.

it’s a poor joke, indeed, but Ironwood wraps compliments, an admission that he’s not perfect, and confidence that his history doesn’t weigh on him too heavily all into a small string of sentences. it displays all the charisma that’s gotten him this far, and if that didn’t win qrow over just a little, then his offer most certainly does. “hey, i never said i thought jawin’ over some drinks is a bad way to get t’know someone. i’ll join ya, if you’re really askin’. been awhile since i’ve been up t’that office.”

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James rises an eyebrow at not ransoming information anymore. That is an interesting matter and he notes to ask about it later.

“Please don’t. I tend to fight back.” James smiles, this time genuinely. Not going to lie, that would be something fresh in his routine and he does enjoy a good challenge. “I know you’re one of best huntsmen alive, no need to prove it. I might accept a sparring match, if you’d be interested, though.” In fact, he’d love that. He heard about Qrow’s combat skills, but testing them would be a different, much more exciting and informative story.

“Let me warn you, that it might look a little different than you remember. I haven’t really settled in yet.” That’s a little subtler than admitting that there’s a few boxes and empty space with a desk.

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charisma then turns to flattery, and the stroke to his ego makes qrow a touch less loaded. as does the General relaxing into himself, perhaps with the prospect of getting out of this crowd. humility softens stainless edges in smooth ways qrow could never carry himself. reveals a peek of the man behind the militant machine.

maybe Oz had a point about qrow provoking people less. but Ironwood spends his time and shares his drink, despite rough manners.

“tch, fine,” qrow tosses his head, and black, feathered hair fluffs in follow, “no hits unless we’re trainin’ or you’re askin’ for it.” vague assent given to his second offer for getting to know each other over a different type of round, too. not one to shy away from ways to get better at one of the few things qrow can do well.

they begin to walk, and Ironwood gives a warning qrow could care less about. doesn’t matter what it looks like in the office, as long as it contains the drink promised. with a quiet snort, red eyes roll at the very thought - settling in a far away concept to fathom for a vagabond since birth.

long legs trail behind stronger steps with a slouch, but qrow keeps up well enough to make it clear he knows his own way around. speeds up when they close in on the office, and reaches to open and hold the door for the other, assuming with nothing important unpacked it won’t be locked.

both presumptuous and polite all in one motion.

[cowpokecorner]

Gonna Make Ya Squeal~ // Arthur Morgan and Micah Bell x FEM!Reader (Mild NSFW Warning!)

Foxy Outlaw here~! I just wanted to say something before I share this with y'all. I’m not always so great at writing or coming up with ideas, so I might not post things like this often. I will consider opening up requests for written Character x Reader stuff in the future, but for now that is not available. I hope you guys like what I wrote up here. It was just a quick thing I did for a friend a couple weeks ago. Enjoy~! :3 ============================================ You slowly open your eyes as a slight pain rings through your head. You look up a bit to find you’re in a dimly lit room and tied to a wooden post with a lasso rope. You don’t remember how you got here or why even, but your concerns about how you got here are quickly wiped away when you hear two people talking outside the door in a heavy Southern drawl. “Y'know ya didn’t hafta hitter over the head like that.” “Well how else was we supposed ta make sure she came with us?” “We coulda jus asked'er. I’m sure she wouldn'a minded comin’ fer a couple drinks.” “Relax, Morgan. I’m sure she’s fine. Besides, made it easier ta getter here, didn’t it?” The voices started out faint, but grew louder and closer as the conversation carried on. They were accompanied by some boot steps on a wooden floor before stopping outside the door, which was also where the conversation stopped. It was a short moment before the door opened. As a slightly brighter light washed over you, two men now appeared in the doorway. Both were dressed like Old West cowboys, one in red and the other in blue. The one in red stepped closer to you, his blonde hair and mustache coming more into view as he leaned down to tilt your head up with his hand. “Well good morin’ there girl~ Glad ta see yer awake~” He spoke in a slightly deep, husky tone that sounded as if he was trying to be seductive. The other man stepped forward and swatted the first man’s hand away from you. “Micah, would ya leave the poor girl alone! We didn’ bring her here t’mess around.” He carefully reached around to untie the ropes. He then held out a hand to help you to your feet, which you hesitantly took and stood. “Where…where am I…?” You spoke quietly in a bit of confusion.

Before the man who seemed to be the kinder of the two could speak, the one you have comed to understand was named Micah chimed in. “Yer exactly where ya need ta be right now, n’ that’s all ya need ta know.” His tone was much louder and more cocky now as he crossed his arms and smirked. The other gave Micah a look before looking back to you. “Yer back at our cabin fer now. We’re lookin’ fer some information, n’ we were hopin’ ya had it for us.” You bit your lip nervously. Information? What kind of information did they think you had? You weren’t the type to be involved in much of anything outside of your own personal hobbies and talking to a few friends. Honestly, the only reason you had gone out today was to buy some new art supplies, but you hadn’t even made it to the store before everything faded to black. “I-Information….?” “Oh come on, Morgan! Get on with it b’fore I take care of it!” Micah grumbled, growing annoyed with the delay. Morgan, or at least that was what you assumed his name was, shot a glare at Micah before once again looking back to you. “Well a friend of ours saw ya round someone we’re lookin’ ta deal with fer personal reasons. They tend ta be inta all sorts a trouble with the law, and they took somethin’ that belongs to'us.” You looked down at your hands as you figitted nervously. “I-I’m sorry… I don’t think I know anyone like that. M-maybe you have me confused with…s-someone else…?” “Damn it, Micah!” Morgan turned around, stomping his foot slightly. “I told ya she didn’ look like the girl we were after.” “Well how the hell was I s’posed ta know?! She’s wearin’ the same damn clothes we was given as a description. Ain’t my fault.” Micah walked over to what looked like a relatively bare looking bed and sat down. “This is why I wonted ta talk to’er first. Now we jus kidnapped someone fer no reason.” The man in blue huffed as he started toward the door, stopping to turn back and look at Micah. Micah smirked a bit as he removed his hat and sat it beside him on the bare mattress. “Not exactly no reason at all~ We could… Y'know~” “No. No. No. Absolutely not, Micah. I told ya last time I ain’t gettin’ involved with yer sexual escapades.” Morgan shook his head, turning back to the door once more. Your eyes widened as he spoke. Did he just say what you thought he said? Did this man you didn’t know have certain…intentions…with you? You looked to Micah, blushing slightly when you caught sight of his face. Micah was staring back at you with narrowed eyes and a slightly crooked grin, but somehow it seemed oddly….arousing? Okay this was definitely out of the norm for you. “C’mon Arthur~ Let’s just have a little fun with'er~ Won’t hurt nothin’~” You quickly looked away to break eye contact only to see who you can only assume is actually known as Arthur Morgan looking back at his ‘friend’ with a questioned face. “Y'mean both’uv us. At the same time. Together. Y'know what Dutch’ll say f'ee finds out we did somethin’ like that, doncha?” Micah chuckled as he stood and walked back over to you, once again tilting your head up with his hand to look at him. “So don’t tell'im. Besides, look at how she’s lookin’ at me~ She clearly wants to~” Arthur looked over to you once more before sighing heavily. He brought his hand up to cover his face for a minute, pushing some of his hair back and sighing once more. As he did this he removed his hat as well, hanging it on the doorknob before walking back over to you. “How d’ya know she wonts it?” “Look atter face. Her cheeks are more flushed than yers when yer wasted.” He chuckled a bit as he brushed a hand across your cheek. Arthur grew quiet as he studied your body language. He leaned down a bit so he was closer to your ear, not wanting to be too loud for fear of someone outside the room hearing. “Wouldja be interested in foolin’ round with a couple a ol’ cowpokes like us~?” He seemed more into the idea as he spoke quietly. You’re entire face was hot with blush now. You felt as if you might pass out, but you kept yourself together and thought for a moment. You never really were one for sexual encounters, even with people you were close to, however…. These two were touching a certain nerve within you. Something about them made you want to comply, and you very slowly nodded before quietly squeaking out a couple of words. “U-um… I-I…g-guess s-so…” Micah let out a very sly and mischievous laugh as he leaned closer to your other ear. “Donchu worry girl~ We promise yer gonna love every minute of it~” Arthur straightened up and moved to shut the door before scooping you up and laying you on the bed. “I won’t let'im get too outta hand, Darlin’. Promise~” “Oh hush, Morgan.” Micah huffed as he picked up his hat and placed it on your head. He started to unbutton his shirt slowly now, Arthur doing the same. Even though Micah was a bit more on the rough side, Arthur made sure to keep him in check as the night wore on. You absolutely enjoyed yourself, even though you never would have pictured yourself between two men… Let alone being this close to just one.

[blackaquokat]

The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 2)

Link to Chapter 1

A/N: Fun fact, Legal Eagle used to be slang for “lawyer,” hence the DA’s nickname. 

You will also notice, this chapter, that I am taking blatant inspiration for a subplot from Shawshank Redemption. Because it is absolutely something my DA would do. And also, there is a scene here that I once wrote in response to a prompt. 

Anyway, thanks for the feedback so far, everyone! I appreciate it so much! 

Enjoy!

--

Apparently Yancy has set up a guard rotation for you at mealtimes in collaboration with his nightly watch. 

Today, instead of Jimmy the Pickle, a slim bearded man who introduces himself as Sparkles McGee (you’re curious about the story behind that nickname) joins you at your table. He’s a little more chatty than Jimmy was, constantly going on about the local prison gossip. Who is sleeping with who, which jobs are preferable, upcoming birthdays of inmates and guards. He doesn’t seem to expect any kind of response from you, which works out just fine, because you have nothing to contribute. This might be handy information to have in the future anyway.

When it’s yard time again, however, Sparkles splits off to his group of inmates at the corner. Just as you’re about to go spend another hour lost in thought or maybe doing some exercises, Sparkles comes back and drags you to his posse. 

He introduces them one by one: a young woman who looks simultaneously bored and ready to kill, “Tiny”; a younger man with a hisp of a goatee and mustache, “Bam-Bam”; a pale, lanky man with gears tattooed to his temple, “Heap-Ass”; and a larger bald man, “Shithole Hank.” The last one is apparently the man to go to for hooch wine, and every time you’re offered a sip, you make a hard pass. Your excuse is a preference for whiskey or lime and gin. In reality, you just haven’t gotten desperate enough for alcohol to drink it out of a toilet.

Once the introductions are made, you once again just sit back and listen as the crew converses amongst one another. With the amount of gossip you catch during that time, you manage to construct imaginary cases in your head where this evidence is used in support of various litigation lawsuits.

It’s a real eye-opener for you, how little of a life you had outside of work that this is the most you can come up with to occupy yourself outside of reading a book.

Speaking of…

“Is there a library here?” you ask during a short lull in the conversation.

The group blinks at you in sync. 

“Um.” Bam-Bam shakes his head. “There’s a book cart with a small selection, and a room about the size of a closet, but that’s about it.”

Your brow furrows. “Is this another case of Warden Murder-Slaughter’s ‘rehabilitation over punishment’ slogan falling flat on its face?”

Tiny snorts. Sparkles shrugs.  An idea forms in your mind.

“Um…” Shithole Hank leans towards Sparkles. “Should we be worried about that look in their eye?”

“Only if it gets us in trouble.”

You decide to ignore that exchange. “Would you guys like to have a proper library?”

This draws some intrigue from your companions. Tiny in particular looks interested in this proposal. 

“How the hell would you manage that?” Sparkles demands.

You cross your arms and try for a confident smile. “You don’t go through years of law school without learning how to figure out contracts and loopholes. If I can talk with the warden, I’d like to at least see what I can do.”

You cut off when you see the group staring behind you with wide eyes. You turn heel to see one of the guards looking you up and down. Rex, your mind supplies. This is Rex. 

“If you want the Warden,” Rex growls, “I can take you to him. But you gotta do something for me first.”

Shit.

----

“What do you mean youse done talked with the Warden?” Yancy demands when you stroll into the cell that evening.

“I wanted to ask him what steps I needed to take to get a bigger library implemented here,” you respond with absolutely no shame whatsoever. 

The meeting went surprisingly well. You’ve got a rough idea of how to go about this, now that you know what the problems are. Even better, you actually did find a copy of Murder on the Orient Express on the cart, so a double-win for the day. You crawl on top of the bedsheets and crack the novel open.

Yancy leaps down from the bunk and glares down at you. “And youse didn’t think to inform me of this plan of youse’s?”

You lift your brow without looking away from the book. “I didn’t think you’d be opposed to the idea of making your home a little more homey by having a more updated collection of books.”

“Of course not--”

“Then what’s the problem?” 

There’s a huff and a growl before Yancy climbs back into his bunk and falls into it more aggressively than necessary. You think that’s the end of it until his head pops down. “What makes you think youse can just waltz into here and demand youse’s luxuries?!”

Ah. Okay, you see where he’s coming from. 

You shut your book and set it down. “Look, I know I’m a prosecution lawyer, but I’m not completely heartless. Yes, I would like a larger collection of books, but don’t the rest of you want more to read too? You look like you’ve been here long enough to read all of those three times. I mean, Rex brought me to the warden in the first place just because he wants a better poetry collection to pick from. He asked for specific authors and poets.”

Yancy does not deny this. 

You continue, “Besides, just because you’re in prison doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to expand your horizons, literature-wise that is. I know books helped me growing up, imagine what they’ll mean to everyone in here.”

Yancy continues to stare at you, utterly baffled. “Youse quite the enigma, Eagle.”

“For...what? Caring?”

He shrugs. A weird sight to watch from someone who’s upside down. “Not for caring, per se. But more...the ‘doing’ part.” He disappears into his bunk again. “Here’s hopin’ it won’t be for nothin’.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think youse the first person to ask for more books, Eagle? There’s a reason that collection hasna been updated since the war. Nobody’s seen it through to the end. They gets discouraged.”

You purse your lips, fingers tapping against your book. “I would think you’d have realized from my reputation. I don’t quit.”

There’s a chuckle above you. A genuine one. “That’s what I’m countin’ on, Eagle.”

---

Yancy is right. There’s a reason the collection has barely grown since the prison opened up.

No one on the outside wants to fund the damn thing. 

That doesn’t stop you. You start writing letter after letter after letter to the state legislature asking (demanding and borderline threatening, really) for the funds needed to make a bigger library. Thanks to your work in the government, and after a quick phone call to Damien to confirm (while he also updates you on the progress on your case), you know exactly who to contact. It gives you something to do. Something really meaningful. It helps to pass the time and helps to keep from feeling helpless about your own situation. 

It also gets you a whole different kind of attention from the inmates.

After Week Two of your letter campaign, Tiny speaks up. You’ve started sitting with Yancy’s posse since they adopted you into their group outside of protection detail. “You really think you can get a library here?”

Seeing as Tiny has barely made a sound in your presence before, this takes you completely by surprise. As well as the rest of the table. You recover quickly. “That’s...what I’m hoping for.”

Tiny’s head ducks, her fingers tapping against one another. “Um...if you do…”

“Yeah?”

“Can we make requests?” she eventually blurts out. “For books we’d like? I mean, do you think we could get children’s books?”

You put down your fork and offer her your full attention. “Did you have a specific one in mind?”

“The Velveteen Rabbit.” Tiny tugs at her braid. “My grandmother used to read it to me.”

You’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to protect Tiny with your life. Even if you’re pretty sure Tiny has killed at least three people since she was imprisoned and could absolutely kill you if she wanted to. “If that book isn’t included in any delivery we’re given, I will annoy the legislature until they do. Sound good?”

Tiny smiles at you. A small, genuine one. It renews your motivation and you end up writing two letters that evening, in preparation for the next time mail comes along. Next thing you know, other inmates (and even a few guards aside from Rex, much to your surprise) have requests for books they would like available.

Oddly enough, it’s the letter writing and the book requests that finally drive you to ask Yancy how you go about ordering contraband.

“What the hell do youse need contraband for?” He’s sitting cross-legged in the top bunk while you’re trying to draft your next letter on the slab sticking out from the opposite wall.

You hold up the golf pencil you’re using with frustration. “Because these are driving me up the wall. They are terrible. And the quality of the paper here is a nightmare too, it smudges way too easily.”

“So what? Youse want pen and paper?”

Your brow lifts. “That not a lethal enough order?”

Yancy’s smile is borderline feral in its delight. “Youse a lot more interesting than I thought you’d be, Eagle. The guy to go to is Heap-Ass. He’ll get you anything you want. For a price.”

You really don’t like that tone of his. “And? What’s the price?”

“Depends.”

“I don’t do sex favors. Or assassinations.”

“Nah, he’s not that twisted. It’ll either be a chore switch or cigarette packs, somethings in that nature, you know?”

You twirl your terrible pencil between your fingers, feeling a little more hopeful. “That I can definitely handle.”

---

You’ve always known, on an intellectual, common sense level, that prison brutality is absolutely a problem. It’s something you learned in law school from the professors who cared about teaching the kind of scenes law students would actually have to address in their lines of work.

It’s an entirely other experience to watch a rookie guard get too into his job and beat the shit out of a prisoner whose only crime was walking a little too close to the bastard.

Your gut instinct is to run forward and help, somehow. A stupid instinct that would have gotten you killed or at least tossed into the infirmary on a permanent basis had Yancy not grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Hold up there, Eagle.” He pulls you back, a glare fixed on the brutal scene before you. “No need for two of ours to ends up with broken wings, youse hear me?” 

You swallow back your righteous anger and force yourself to calm down. It’s not right, it’s not right, and the justice lawyer inside of you is itching to make it right somehow–-

Yancy must see your conflict and anger. He puts a hand on your shoulder and mutters into your ear, “No worries. Me and the others ain’t gonna let this stand. We’ve got our own system in place here.”

That night, you pretend to be asleep when you hear that rookie guard scream for help. You don’t look to see what happens, who does it, or how, and the next day, when the warden summons you to ask if you know anything to explain why the guard’s body was found in the laundry room, you tell him as much.

When you see Yancy later, he seems almost impressed at your lackadaisical reaction to what took place. “Thought you were all about the law, Eagle?”

You lean on the wall next to him and look out across the yard, watching the other inmates mingle together. “In the absence of the law, I’ll take what justice I can get.”

You can almost feel Yancy’s approval. “I can appreciate that.”

--

Link to Chapter 3 here!

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[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede          Chapter 56:  Home

Source:  @peter-stone

Chapters 1-55

Laura knocked quietly on the door of Lucia’s apartment in the Bronx, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and sadness.  They had kept in touch, of course, for the two years Laura had been away, although after those first, hellish months, they hadn’t spoken quite as often.  Laura fully expected that they would spend time during this visit crying over their mutual loss, and she didn’t dread that. In fact, she and Lucia hadn’t been able to hug while they cried in all the time Laura had been gone.  Since the crying part was probably inevitable, Laura thought it would be nice to be able to put her arms around Rafael’s mother while they shared their pain.  

Lucia had tried to understand Laura’s need to run away.  At first, she had been confused and a bit hurt that Laura wouldn’t be in New York, where they could comfort one another.  Over the two weeks after Rafi’s death, however, as they had worked feverishly together to do all the horrible tasks that have to be done when someone dies, Lucia had seen in Laura a fear that she herself didn’t feel.  Laura was not only grieving the past, she was also terrified of the future.  Lucia wasn’t. Partly, the difference was that Laura was young, and had to figure out who to be, now that she had been left without the partner she’d chosen to spend her life with.  Rafael’s death had fundamentally changed who Laura was.  That wasn’t true for Lucia.  Losing her child, adult though he had been, didn’t change Lucia’s identity as his mother.  The other difference was that having another child wasn’t an option for Lucia, so she didn’t have to find the courage to try again.  

Over the past two years, something had happened that neither of them had expected.  As much as they had liked being mother- and daughter-in-law, they found that they also enjoyed being friends.  Lucia still felt motherly toward Laura, who also loved Lucia like a second mother.  But helping one another through their greatest loss had also forged a deep, lasting friendship between them as women.  Rafael was always there, between them, a shared love that united them.  But they found that, slowly and in stages, their conversations branched out to involve the rest of their lives, as well.  It was a lovely connection that allowed them to keep Rafael close – the two women who had loved him the most – and also allowed each of them to enjoy the other for her own sake.

When Lucia opened the door, she and Laura hugged (and cried) for a very long time before Laura even crossed the threshold.

 *************

Dinner at Amanda’s had started at breakfast time.  Laura wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friends from SVU, so they’d arranged to meet at the zoo in Central Park, where the kids could play while the parents talked.  Laura was shocked by how much they’d grown; both Fin’s grandson, Jaden, and Amanda’s daughter, Billie, were talking already.  They weren’t speaking full sentences, but they were certainly able to make their needs known.  Amanda’s daughter Jessie and Olivia’s son Noah both had vague memories that they had an “Aunt Lala”, but had really been too young to remember Laura.  It was great fun to get re-acquainted with them, and to discover Jaden’s and Billie’s personalities, made easier by the fact that Sonny Carisi was, by far, the kids’ favorite person and knew everything about them.   As soon as they saw that Sonny liked Laura, they decided to like her, too.  

While the older kids ran around like maniacs and the littler ones alternated between mania and meltdowns, the adults caught up.  Laura had cried as soon as she saw Fin, which she’d known she would.  He tried to play it cool, but the tightness of his hug and the amount of time it lasted told her he was just as glad to see her.

“Any idea what you’re gonna do when you get back to Chicago?”  He asked.

“I have a few leads.  I really loved the work I did for the feds; I might want to do something with computer crimes.  Or maybe I’ll go to the dark side and make a mint working in cybersecurity.  Regular hours, no one shoots at me…”

“Yeah, but you’d never get to go off on anyone.  Remember Reginald Skoggs?  You love that shit,”  Fin laughed.

“Oh, man, I haven’t thought about him in years.  But you’re right, that was fun.  Remember I had to change my clothes before Barba saw all the blood?”  

Fin laughed at that, too, and Laura noticed that the whole group seemed to relax a little, knowing that it was all right to mention Rafael’s name.  

“What I remember is you still owe me fifty bucks for not tellin’ Barba what you did.”  

Laura feigned a blank look.  “I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah, sure you don’t.”  Fin threw an arm around her neck and gave her a rough hug.  “Punk-ass kid.”  

All morning and afternoon, the SVU detectives shared stories of cases they’d worked and listened as Laura told them what she’d been doing.  Laura wanted to hear every story about the kids.  They had so much to talk about that it was actually after lunch by the time the conversation neared the subject of Rafael’s murder.

Olivia moved so that she was walking next to Laura while they headed toward the Polar Circle, where the penguins – the kids’ favorite - lived.  

“I thought we’d get to see you for Randolph’s trial.  I wasn’t surprised to see him plead out, but I was sorry to miss out on a visit from you.”  

“Thanks, Lieu. I knew he’d take a plea.  McCoy was going to bury him no matter what, so I think he just figured he’d save himself the trouble.  For a sweet man, Jack McCoy can be a scary SOB when he’s crossed.”

“Yes, he can,” Olivia agreed.  

“Anyway, it was better that way.  I really wasn’t ready to come back until pretty recently.  In fact, I might have stayed longer, except…”

“Yeah, I heard. You know, until Rollins told me the whole story, I just thought you and Stone were oddly close.”  

“And you were right about that,” Laura laughed.  

While Jaden and Billie napped hard in their strollers, Fin sat with them and napped a little, too. Liv and Amanda kept a close eye on Jessie and Noah, and Laura and Carisi stood leaning on poured concrete rocks, watching the penguins.  

“So I’m looking at all these kinds of penguins, particularly the macaroni penguin, which is really the coolest of penguinkind, and I’m thinkin’ that right there is evidence that God has a sense of humor.”

“Hmmmm. Deep, Carisi.  I don’t disagree, but I’m thinking whoever named them macaroni penguins gets an honorable mention.”

“Yeah, I could go there,” Sonny shrugged.  “And since you didn’t throw me over these rocks into the water, I hope that means that maybe you and God have made up a little?”  

Laura thought for a minute.  “There was this priest in Stockholm, Father Piär. He helped.  Probably not as much as you, but he did OK.”  She bumped Carisi fondly with her shoulder.  

“I don’t know that I helped any, but thanks.”

“Sure you did.  And I appreciate it.  I owe you.” Laura didn’t want the day to turn maudlin, so she changed the subject.  “So I noticed in your emails, you never mentioned any dates.  You didn’t become a monk or something, did you?”  

“Nah,” Sonny blushed.  “I just like to play things close to the vest, y’know?”

“Well, don’t. Tell me.  I want to know you’re happy.”

The smile on Sonny’s face, and the crinkles around his bright blue eyes told Laura that he would never want for romantic companionship for long.  “There’s no one special right now, but…  I’ve kinda been thinkin’ I’m getting a little old for dates.  Dean got married, you know.”

“I hadn’t heard that!”

“Yeah, married a surgeon.  They’re in L.A. now.  Anyway, I’ve been thinking I might be in the market for someone, you know, more permanent.”

“Any candidates?”

“Not right now. But who knows?”

“Just don’t get serious about anyone until I get to check them out.  Don’t rely solely on Amanda’s judgment.”

“If I have to wait until Amanda approves someone, I might as well hang it up right now.”

The rest of the afternoon went on like that, everyone enjoying the day and Laura getting a chance to talk one-on-one with each of them.

At dinner, there was plenty of wine and entirely too much food.  Sonny made something no one could pronounce, but it was so good everyone ate until they couldn’t possibly take one more bite.  Lucia joined them, and they all enjoyed themselves.  To Laura, it felt as though she’d never been away, which was just a little bittersweet, because it meant she kept expecting Rafael to walk in at any time.  

There was a sweet moment when Olivia was telling a story about an argument she and Rafael had, and Noah asked, “Is Rafael the same as Uncle Rafa?”  

Olivia told him that he was.

“I ‘member him,” Noah said.  “He used to sing the pirate song.”  

As much as Laura had needed to leave New York to escape the constant reminders of Rafael, it was lovely, now that she could, to be able to talk about him with people who had known and loved him.  There were a hundred stories about funny, biting comments he had made, demonstrations of his undeniable abilities, and his courtroom coups.  Lucia told some hilarious, adorable stories about him as a child that he would never have allowed her to tell, had he been there.  They all laughed, and shed a few tears, and toasted his memory.  The entire day was as special as any of them had hoped, and it was a perfect way for Laura to acknowledge the life she had loved in New York before she went on to begin a new life back in Chicago.

Amanda waited with Laura and Lucia at the curb for their taxi back to the Bronx.  She and Laura had exchanged many hugs throughout the day, but it still didn’t feel like enough.  They sat, side by side on Amanda’s stoop, with Amanda’s arm around Laura’s shoulder.

“Just remember, you need me to shoot Stone, I can make it look like an accident.”

“I thought it was Rafael you offered to shoot.”

“It was, but you never took me up on it, so I still owe you.  But I’m kinda hopin’ you don’t ever need me to shoot Stone, either.  ‘Cuz you look happy.  And I like seein’ that.”

“Me, too.”

“You take care of yourself, Parker.  You know you always have a home here, if you want it.”

They hugged yet again, both smiling, and Amanda pulled Lucia into the hug with them.

**********

The flight from New York to Chicago had seemed very short after the flight from Stockholm. And now, Laura was home.  She smiled even as tears spilled over, looking out the window of the airplane at the familiar landscape.  

She walked through the concourse toward Baggage Claim.  She reached the main terminal, passed the security checkpoint, and descended the stairs toward the row of baggage carousels, some surrounded by people and spitting out luggage which then circled slowly, some still and silent.  She idly looked out over the scene as she walked down the stairs.

She froze on the last step, her heart doing some sort of somersault in her chest and a large swarm of butterflies taking sudden flight in her stomach.  She whispered an involuntary, "Peter."

She stood, unmoving, staring at the tall, beautiful man standing near the baggage carousel for her flight.  As always, his muscular, athletic build and his square, masculine jaw stirred a deep longing in her.  She stared almost helplessly at him, just as she had done that day years before, when she saw him in the lobby at District 21, waiting for an appointment with Sergeant Voight.  She realized with a surge of love that the pain of missing Peter was over.  She was home now, with him, and there was no longer anything to keep them apart.

His hair was longer than it had been when she’d last seen him.  It looked so good she instantly wanted to run her hands through it. Had he let it grow for her, knowing she liked it that way?  Only when he looked up at her, perhaps sensing her staring at him, did Laura take the last stair and begin to move through the crowd toward him as his face broke into a wide smile.

They didn’t say anything at first as they came face to face, just took a moment to smiled at one another before they wrapped their arms around each other in a long, contented embrace.  People looked at them, some annoyed at these fools locked in a marathon hug in the middle of baggage claim, some grinning shyly at the apparently very happy reunion. Peter and Laura ignored them all. Somewhere in the middle of their embrace, they began to share whispered “I love you’s” among heartfelt endearments.

There were plenty of kisses and laughing as they collected Laura’s luggage and walked, talking animatedly, out to Peter’s car.  With so much to carry - suitcases, Laura’s guitar, her carry-on - they hadn’t been able to hold hands or put arms around each other as they walked, and with each step, Laura found herself more aware of wanting to touch Peter.  She noticed again his hair, just a bit shaggy, and the way it made her think of him in bed.  She watched the sexy way he walked, so athletic and confident, legs wide and striding quickly.  As Peter stored the luggage in the back of a new SUV he’d purchased at some point after he’d returned from New York, Laura stood close to him, just wanting to be near him and eager to have her arms around him again.  

He slammed the gate down and pulled her to him.  As he leaned down to press his lips to hers, she breathed in his scent: a clean, masculine smell of soap and a little bit of musky cologne highlighting a warmer, savory essence that Laura thought of as just plain man.  She reached up, sliding one hand into the hair at the back of his head and using the other to hold him close.  As their mouths met in heated haste, Peter’s arms encircling Laura completely, she felt herself pressed against the back of the vehicle.  She moved her legs to more fully melt their bodies together, feeling lust overcoming her sense of anything beyond Peter. He felt warm and firm, large and muscular, the beginnings of his erection evident as he moved against her.

He broke the kiss when they started to lose control of the sounds being drawn from them and the wantonness of their hip movements.  

“Get in the car,” he growled, and they quickly separated to slide into their seats.  Before even thinking about putting on seat belts, they turned to each other and their mouths met once again for the kind of kisses they really wanted, but couldn’t indulge in publicly.  Their intimate caresses became quickly more serious, more heated, and soon they were both moaning as Peter’s tongue teased Laura’s. Minutes later, Laura slid a hand up the inside of Peter’s thigh.  

He took her hand from his leg, lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers, chuckling.  “You missed me.”

“I missed you like crazy.  And I want you.  Let me…”

“Not here.”

“Please?  We could get in the back…”

“I am not going to have sex with you in an airport parking garage,” Peter said, a little more gruffly than he meant to, because he was having some trouble resisting her suggestion in his current agitated state.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.  I think it was even this garage.  Remember when you went -“

“That was…  We were in our twenties then.”  He consciously tried to slow his breathing.

“And?  What are you, a grown-up now?”  Laura leaned in and began kissing Peter’s neck, slipping her hand from his and reaching toward his crotch.  “Come on.  I love you, and I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.  Let me touch you…” she purred.

“Stop,” he said, laughing but taking her hand again.  “I mean it.  You can do anything you want to me when we get home.  Now behave.”

She moved back into her seat, pretending to be grumpy as she fastened her seat belt.  “Behave.  Since when have I ever behaved?”  

“Just be patient. I’ll make it worth your while.”  Peter gave her a look that did nothing to cool her arousal.  “I promise.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to relent, Laura settled into her seat, smiling contentedly. “It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home,” Peter agreed, reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.  

The city looked beautiful to Laura, even in the dreariness of late fall.  There was a weak sunlight through breaks in the clouds, and there were still some trees with bright fall foliage here and there. Mostly, the city looked good to her because she had been homesick.  She noticed a new building going up on the downtown skyline and pointed it out to Peter, asking where, exactly, it was.  When he told her, she scrunched up her eyebrows.  “Wait, doesn’t that mean… didn’t you miss your exit?  I thought you lived in the Fulton River District.”

“I did,” he responded, looking at the road.  “I moved.”

“You moved? You didn’t tell me you moved.  When did you move?”

“A few months ago. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.  How do you move, and not tell me?”

“I must’ve forgot. I told you, I’ve been crazy busy these last few months.”

Laura frowned. This was strange.  Moving is not something you forget to mention.  “Where do you live now?”

“Wilmette.”

“Wilmette!  You do not.”

Peter smiled and chuckled a little, but kept his eyes on the road.  “I do, actually.  You’ll see.”

“Peter, you… that’s… I can’t believe you moved to Wilmette and didn’t tell me.”

“I thought you liked Wilmette?”

“I do.  We both do.  Remember, we used to talk about living there someday.  That’s why I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry, Sunshine.  Really.  I guess I thought I had.”  He lifted her hand from the console where their clasped hands had been resting and kissed it for about the hundredth time since they’d left O’Hare.

Laura shrugged slightly, but she was still uneasy.  He had told her that he’d been extremely busy over the months since he’d visited her in Stockholm, and with all that had happened between them, maybe he really had forgotten. But it still struck her as a very strange thing not to mention.

Several miles later, Peter exited the freeway and drove through the Village of Wilmette, a clean, leafy, cute midwestern town with lots of small shops and other businesses lining the streets.  He turned into a neighborhood of pretty houses, many of them brick, all set back from the street behind well-maintained front lawns with trees and shrubs.  Most of the houses had flower gardens up next to their foundations, although this late in the year there weren’t any flowers blooming.  He turned into an idyllic, peaceful street and began to slow down.

“You’re messing with me,” she said.  “You bought a house?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling over against the curb.  “We’re here.”  

The house he pointed to was two a story brick, with copper awnings covered with verdigris over bay windows, one on either side of a rounded front door that sat at the top of a set of two steps.  There was a little patio in front of the door with wrought iron railings on either side. There was a chimney to one side, and it looked like there was another chimney at the back.  Peter got out of the car and came around to open Laura’s door as she simply sat and stared.

“Do you like it?”  He asked, a sweet, expectant smile on his face that almost hid a glint of mischief in his eyes.  

Laura stepped out onto the curb and stood, looking at the charming house.  “You didn’t forget to tell me you bought a house.”

He shrugged, pleased with her reaction.  “Maybe not. Maybe I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Peter, this is your house?  It’s beautiful!  It’s perfect! You really live here?”

“Got the mortgage to prove it,” he said, taking her hand.  “C’mon.  I want to show it to you.  We’ll get the luggage later.”  

When they reached the door, he opened it and then turned to her and lifted her up with one arm behind her back and one behind her legs.  

“What are you doing?”

“I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

All Laura could think to do was laugh.  This was… bizarre.  Unreal.

They stood in a small foyer with a flagstone floor, a little table with a lamp on it just inside.  Something about the table or the lamp, or maybe both, looked familiar to her, but she was so curious to see Peter’s house that she didn’t give it much thought.  The foyer gave onto a short hallway.

The first room they came to was a formal living room with a couch and some wingback chairs arranged around a fireplace.  There was something about the room that seemed…  Then she noticed the painting of a cottage in the English countryside over the fireplace. 

“I have that same painting,” she said, her voice a little unsure.  “I’ve never noticed that in your apartments, did you just get it?”

“Sort of.  Let me show you the rest of the house.”

He led her past the living room to the end of the short hall, which opened onto a large, sunny great room at the back of the house.  The room had a pleasant kitchen separated by a span of granite countertop from a family area with another fireplace.  Laura was astounded, her head swimming at the surprise of Peter owning a house in Wilmette, and the perfectness of the house itself.  

“Oh, Peter, this is great!  It’s… I love it!  Is this actually a wood-burning fireplace?”

“Yep.”  

Again, Laura had an odd feeling about the room.  It seemed like she’d been there before. 

“This is so weird.  I’m having the weirdest sense of déjà vu.  I know I’ve never been here before…  Holy shit, I know what it is!”

She turned to him to find him grinning like a fool. 

“Peter, your house is just like the one we used to talk about.  Remember?  When we lived in that fifth-floor walk-up in Evanston.  Now all you need is a dog named Marshall.”

Peter, now actually laughing, cocked his head toward a sliding glass door that led from the kitchen out to a patio.  “Back yard.” 

Laura felt herself go numb.  Her eyes got big and she just stood where she was, a confused expression on her face.  Her voice was shaky as she asked, “What’s going on?”

Peter went to the door and opened it.  “Come on.  Meet Marshall.”

She almost stumbled as she moved, uncertain and overwhelmed, over to him.  He put an arm around her back, enjoying every second of her reaction, but a little worried this might all be a bit too much.  He led her out onto the wooden patio, which had two sets of steps down to a small back yard shielded from any neighbors by high hedges.  She noticed movement to one side, and her eyes fixed on a red doghouse from which a Yellow Labrador Retriever puppy was sleepily emerging.  The puppy saw Peter and ran to the stairs, a little small yet to climb them easily. 

“Oh, look at you!  You’re so cute!”  Laura hurried over to pick up the puppy, who immediately began to lick all over her face.  She looked at Peter, eyes still wide, confusion and disbelief still very much evident.  “How old is he?”

“She is about three months old.”

“You named a girl puppy Thurgood Marshall?”

“I had to.  That’s the name we picked out.”

“I… what?”

Laura had just enough presence of mind to notice that Peter’s smile was heartrendingly handsome.  He was looking at her, holding the puppy, as though he was a child on Christmas morning catching his first sight of what Santa had brought.

“C’mon, let’s sit here for a minute.”  He sat her down on the stairs that led from the deck to the yard and settled next to her, their legs touching for their full lengths and his arm around her.  

“You OK?”  He chuckled.

“I…  You bought a house.”  She looked up at him just as the shocked, confused look on her face was replaced by something else.  “That picture.”

“Hmmmm?”  He asked, grinning again.

“That’s mine, isn’t it?”

“It was.  Now it’s ours.”

“Did you…?  What did you do?”

“We moved you in.  Everything you had in storage, we moved in here.  This is your house.  Well, our house.”  The grin became a radiant smile.

“Our house.”

“That’s right.  You live here.  With me.”

Peter realized he should have found a way to record this moment.  Her face was registering every emotion that tumbled through her head. He would have liked to be able to watch it again and again, for the rest of his life.  

“But… Who’s ‘we’?  Who helped you move everything in?”

“Do you really have to ask that question?  I could never have finished getting everything ready for you if your whole family hadn’t helped.”

“Our family.”

“Our family.”

“I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what to say.  Peter, this is…”  She reached for him.  “I’ve been telling you for twenty years that I love you, but I’ve never loved you like I do now.  And not just because you bought me a house.  I don’t know how to say a bigger I love you, but… I love you bigger!  They don’t have a word for how I feel about you.  So how am I supposed to tell you?”  Laura’s eyes were overflowing with tears as she laughed into Peter’s shoulder.

“I know how,” he said quietly.

Marshall had been frolicking around their feet as they sat on the stair, and Peter reached out to her, taking hold of a little white ribbon tied to her collar, which Laura hadn’t really noticed.  He untied it and something that had been attached to it fell into his hand.  As he reached behind himself to take Laura’s left hand, she gasped. He pulled her hand to him and held a small gold band with a solitary diamond shining in the middle just off the end of her ring finger.

Laura laughed again through her tears and said, “Yes.  Yes, yes, YES!”

Peter laughed, too.  “Always so impatient.  I haven’t asked you yet.”

He took a deep breath, wanting to give this moment the seriousness it deserved.  As he looked into her eyes, he said, “I love you, Laura.  Will you marry me?  Will you make a family with me?  Be the mother of my children?” 

“Yes,” she whispered, suddenly unable to speak. 

She watched as he slipped the ring onto her finger.  “Peter,” she gasped, “Is this…  This is…  This is our ring.  From before.”

“Yeah, I know.  We’ll get a real one, I just needed one to propose with.”

“We will not get a real one,” she cried, suddenly finding her voice as she threw her arms around him again.  “This is the real one.  You kept this ring, all these years…  You will have to pry this ring off my finger.”

For the next several minutes, Marshall became increasingly excited because Peter and Laura were paying no attention to her.  They were too focused on each other, laughing, hugging, kissing, and telling each other over and over how much they loved each other.

“Peter, stop.  I can’t!  This is too much.  I’m gonna explode or have some sort of neurological event from happiness overload…”  Laura laughed breathlessly.  “How many of my dreams are you planning to make come true?

“All of them,” he answered.  “Didn’t I tell you?”

[tunehummed]

TWO-PLAYER GAME. — 355 sentences from joe iconis and george salazar’s 2018 album plus a few bonuses from live performances! change pronouns as needed. trigger warning for mentions of drugs, depression, and suicide.

BROADWAY, HERE I COME.

‛ i’m high above the city. ’

‛ i’m standing on the ledge. ’

‛ the view from here is pretty. ’

‛ and i step off the edge. ’

‛ and now i’m fallin’, baby, through the sky. ’

‛ it’s my callin’, baby, don’t you cry. ’

‛ i’m fallin’ down through the sky. ’

‛ broadway, here i come. ’

‛ i could almost go to pieces, but i’m not quite there yet. ’

‛ see i’ve been bravin’ crazy weather, drownin’ out my cries. ’

‛ i pull myself together. ’

‛ i’m focused on the prize. ’

‛ and it’s a tune you can hum. ’

‛ will i remain the same, or will i change a little bit? ’

‛ will i feel broken or totally complete? ’

‛ will i retain my name when i’m the biggest, hugest hit? ’

‛ or will i blend in with the rest of the street? ’

‛ the people all are pointing. ’

‛ i bet they’d never guess that the saint that they’re anointing is frightened of the mess. ’

‛ but even though i fear it, i’m playin’ all my cards. ’

‛ baby, you are gonna hear it when i give them my regards. ’

‛ and i refuse to go numb. ’

‛ is it a scream or a cheer? ’

‛ well, never mind, i’ll never find out. ’

‛ cause broadway, i am here. ’

TWO-PLAYER GAME.

‛ find the bad guy, push ‘em aside. ’

‛ then move on forward with your friend at your side. ’

‛ it’s a two-player game. ’

‛ so when they make an attack, you know you got a brother. ’

‛ gonna have your back. ’

‛ remain on course! ’

‛ and if they give you a smack, you use your force! ’

‛ and if you leave your brother behind it’s lame. ’

‛ cause it’s an effed up world. ’

‛ dude, you are cooler than a vintage cassette. ’

‛ it’s just that no one else but me thinks that yet. ’

‛ you’re just a nothing in this high school scheme. ’

‛ but it’s no big cause you and i are a team. ’

‛ nobody here appreciates, but soon we’ll be together where they do. ’

‛ cause guys like us are cool in college. ’

‛ we rule in college. ’

‛ high school is hell, but we navigate it well. ’

‛ it’s what we do. ’

‛ we make it a two-player game. ’

‛ as losers, we have fought together for years. ’

‛ now we’re stuck on a level and i wanna move on. ’

‛ just wait two years whereupon you’ll realize guys like us are cool in college. ’

‛ dude, i know, i get it. ’

‛ but we’re not in college. ’

‛ high school is wack, but we have each other’s back. ’

‛ you know that you are my favorite person. ’

‛ that doesn’t mean that i can’t still dream. ’

‛ is it really true? ’

‛ we’re never not gonna be a team. ’

‛ high school is shit, and you gotta help me conquer it. ’

I LOVE PLAY REHEARSAL.

‛ i love play rehearsal. ’

‛ because it’s the best. because it is fun. ’

‛ and i get depressed as soon as it’s done. ’

‛ see, i just use the word to emphasize the point. ’

‛ i am passionate a lot. ’

‛ i have mad, gigantic feelings. ’

‛ red and frantic feelings about most everything. ’

‛ like if i’m living up to all i’m meant to be. ’

‛ oh, uh… where was i? ’

‛ cause you are equipped with directions and text. ’

‛ life is easy in rehearsal. ’

‛ you follow a script so you know what comes next. ’

‛ sometimes life can’t work out the way it works out in the play. ’

‛ only when i’m in a show am i the center of attention. ’

‛ like when i’m [role] or [role] and can i mention? ’

‛ those were two of my greatest roles. did you see those? ’

‛ and no matter how hard i try, it’s impossible to narrow down the many reasons why. ’

‛ i happiness cry whenever it starts! ’

‛ it’s just so universal, getting to try playing so many parts. ’

‛ most humans do one thing for all of their lives. the thought of that gives me hives! ’

‛ i’ve got so many interests i wanna pursue. ’

‛ and why am i telling this to you? ’

‛ guess there’s a part of me that wants to. ’

‛ my brain is like ‘bzzz.’ my heart is like ‘wow!’ ’

‛ and it’s starting soon. ’

TINY SHORT LITTLE SONG.

‛ monkeys are cool. babies are too. ’

‛ they make funny sounds that sound simple and new. ’

‛ these are sounds that belong in my tiny short little song. ’

ANDY’S SONG.

‛ i ride my bike to work every morning. ’

‛ i ring my bell and make sure my helmet’s tight. ’

‛ MOVE, ASSHOLE! ’

‛ have a nice day! ’

‛ that happy grin is enough to provide me with total satisfaction for a long, long while! ’

‛ and i don’t have a car because of pollution. ’

‛ so completely not cause i’m much too scared to drive. ’

‛ i’ve gotten pretty far in my evolution. ’

‛ i don’t need a lot to be totally alive! ’

‛ you know those bicycle seats cut down on your sperm count. ’

‛ uuuh… i know that cause you tell me everyday. ’

‛ that boy needs to get laid. ’

‛ i tuck my polo shirt in my levis cause it looks SHARP! okay? ’

‛ how come every person i receive tries to tell me i need ‘something more?’ ’

‛ i don’t need a girlfriend, i got a goldfish! ’

‛ i don’t have a secret dream or some bold wish. ’

‛ i’m fine with what i’ve got, i feel totally alive! ’

‛ i never open it or shake it, too afraid i’d break it. ’

‛ i’ve had self-control since way back then. ’

‛ there’s nothing else i really need. ’

‛ you may think that i want more than i let on, but i’m really fine. ’

‛ but i’m really fine, so no need to be appalled. ’

‛ i’m this way by choice and what you can bet is i’ll keep moving forward. ’

‛ i’ll keep moving forward, the opposite of stalled! ’

‛ your bike is LITERALLY stalled in front of my car! ’

‛ i don’t have a car cause they’re overrated. ’

‛ i don’t have a girlfriend and somehow, i survive! ’

‛ and just as i’ve stated, i mean what i’ve said. ’

‛ sure as the helmet’s on my head, i feel totally alive! ’

‛ i’m the opposite of dead, i feel totally alive! ’

THE ANSWER.

‛ when a fire starts in the hull, how much time do you have before it spreads to the deck? ’

‛ minutes? hours? what time is it anyway? ’

‛ how do you tell your family that you wanna quit school and just play with your band? ’

‛ when a fire starts in the hall, how much time do you have before it burns itself out? ’

‛ and why do i feel like i’m choking lately? ’

‛ what am i doing here? ’

‛ what am i looking for? ’

‛ maybe school, or maybe love, or maybe none of the above is the answer. ’

‛ maybe for once i’ll really try, or fuck it all and just get high cause that’s an answer. ’

‛ cause that’s answer. feels like an answer. ’

‛ and who do i wanna be? ’

‛ what’s the furthest distance a ship can be from shore before it loses its signal? ’

‛ maybe i’ll practice my guitar, or read a book, or steal a car and steal the answer. ’

‛ i’ll get a job and i’ll get paid, or get a girlfriend and get laid, and get the answer. ’

‛ i’ll join the army, go to war, give up my smokes or smoke some more. ’

‛ i need an answer. ’

‛ move to the village, shave my head, wind up happy, wind up dead. ’

‛ wind up in debt, wind up in love, or maybe none of the above is the answer. ’

‛ maybe it’s okay that i don’t have a plan and i don’t have a clue. ’

‛ i’m 19 and that doesn’t mean that i should know exactly what i wanna do, right? ’

‛ i’m 19 and that doesn’t that i should know what i wanna do. ’

‛ i’ve got time to make mistakes, make up my mind. ’

‛ i’ve got time enough to find out all the answers. ’

‛ but i am scared and i’m afraid that a decision won’t get made. ’

‛ i’m afraid that a decision won’t get made and i’ll be like this forever. ’

‛ i need help, need extra help to find the answers. ’

‛ what’s the answer? ’

‛ i don’t know. ’

‛ pencils down, papers turned over. time’s up. ’

‛ time’s up. ’

LISA.

‛ ain’t got no future. ’

‛ ain’t got no future, but i got ADD. ’

‛ but i got ADD. ’

‛ i steal from 7/11. ’

‛ i’m fuckin’ ugly. ’

‛ but she pretends she doesn’t care. ’

‛ she laughs and smiles, fingers through my hair. ’

‛ she must be ashamed of me. ’

‛ so i try and i try to change myself. ’

‛ so i try and i try to change myself, but my back’s against a wall. ’

‛ but my back’s against a wall. ’

‛ i don’t deserve all the coolness of her. ’

‛ i don’t deserve [name] at all. ’

‛ pollute my body. ’

‛ she makes me feel clean, clean, clean. ’

‛ i say ‘i feel like i’m drownin’’. ’

‛ and even though she don’t, she say ‘i know what you mean.’ ’

‛ sign on to AOL and think of funny things to say. ’

‛ she’ll always LOL, never pretends like she’s away. ’

‛ because she likes me for some reason. ’

‛ i know i’m dumb. i know i’m ugly. ’

‛ i know that she is not. ’

‛ i know if i were her i’d hate me. ’

‛ i hope that she does not. ’

‛ i hope that she does not hate me. ’

THE VAGABOND.

‛ i’m wearin’ two pair of underwear, some worn out kicks, and my mangy hair. ’

‛ my mangy hair could formerly be referred to as blond. ’

‛ i’m just a couple years out the clink and i’ll take showers in your kitchen sink. ’

‛ i guess i’m what you’d call a vagabond. ’

‛ i been walkin’ the highway for a while. ’

‛ fragrance of the road is my cologne. ’

‛ maybe i get some sun, maybe get a ride. ’

‛ i don’t worry none, let destiny decide. ’

‛ life’s laid back when you’re totally alone. ’

‛ life’s laid back when you’re on your own. ’

‛ see i don’t have much, don’t have much. ’

‛ don’t want much, don’t want much. ’

‛ don’t need much, don’t need much. ’

‛ don’t need much ‘cept maybe the promise of whiskey at the end of the day. ’

‛ i’m just a vagabond lookin’ for a place to stay. ’

‛ see i walk and walk and walk some more. ’

‛ i’m green grass high and a little sore, hopin’ that a car will soon appear. ’

‛ i stick out my thumb and i let it linger. ’

‛ and my eye kinda travels to the ring on my finger. ’

‛ it reminds me of a woman who’s not here. ’

‛ and my chest starts hurting, that’s just cause of the heat. ’

‛ and for the first time in days, i start feelin’ my feet. ’

‛ i start feelin’ the feelin’, the journey’s crushin’ me. ’

‛ cool it, man, just get it out of your head. ’

‛ where’s the car, where’s the car? this road’s fuckin’ dead! ’

‛ but i don’t worry, just repeat instead. ’

‛ yeah, well fleein’ ain’t a problem for me. ’

‛ cause if you get me down then i guarantee, i’ll up and leave and i never will return. ’

‛ i’ll break your heart, i’ll break your back. i won’t lose no sleep. ’

‛ shit, i can’t keep track of every bridge i use and then i burn. ’

‛ and the thought of what i’d done to you is what sends me through the desert and beyond. ’

‛ i’m up for a trade. just take me far away from mistakes i made. ’

‛ take pity on the broken vagabond. ’

‛ the promise of shelter at the end of the day, from the places where the bad bastards swarm and pray. ’

‛ with every bone in my body wanna hear you say that this vagabond can put his walkin’ shoes away. ’

NORMAN.

‛ i haven’t known her very long. ’

‛ think i can tell that something’s wrong. ’

‛ think i spy tear drops clinging to her pale white skin. ’

‛ on this dirty night, i just want her to feel alright. ’

‛ we all get a little sad sometimes. ’

‛ i want to watch her chew her food. ’

‛ i want to watch her in the nude. ’

‛ i want to watch her wash away her ugly sins. ’

‛ and if i’m caught she will not slap my hands because she understands. ’

‛ because she understands that we all act a little bad. ’

‛ we all act a little bad sometimes. ’

‛ i can see your image in picture frames looking ever so formal. ’

‛ if you rearrange the letters in both our names, you get one away from normal. ’

‛ we’re both one away from normal. ’

‛ i’ve never seen a girl like her. ’

‛ we’re not in love. i wish we were! ’

‛ put all your love inside of me. ’

‛ i’m in a trap so set me free. ’

‛ let’s go right now, the two of us, and not look back. ’

‛ and the logic might be hazy, but i’m hoping that she’s just as crazy. ’

‛ we all go a little mad sometimes. ’

‛ we all go a little mad sometimes. don’t we? ’

‛ i can tell you’re hungry and you need some food. ’

‛ if i didn’t offer i’d be awfully rude. ’

‛ it’s not fancy, it’s not stable. but join me if you’re able. ’

SONG OF THE BROWN BUFFALO.

‛ uuuh, might i ask… who the fuck are you? ’

‛ hey, white man. do you know what i am? ’

‛ i’m the brown buffalo by way of mexico. ’

‛ i am an attorney on a lifelong journey. ’

‛ never met a man i couldn’t devour. ’

‛ never met a plan i couldn’t put in place. ’

‛ they attack, i brace. they escape, i chase. ’

‛ i’m a tad temperamental, so get out my face. ’

‛ i’m mad monumental, see my dick from space! ’

‛ i am strength for the weak, i am speed for the slow. ’

‛ this is the song of the brown buffalo. ’

‛ i’m beastly and i’m brutish and my fur is caked with gore. ’

‛ i’m the trouble you’ve been looking for. ’

‛ you don’t know i’m brilliant cause you only hear my roar. ’

‛ i don’t ever hide from a fight that needs to be fought. ’

‛ i would never filter a cigarette or a thought. ’

‛ my mind is open wide and it grows and it grows. ’

‛ inhibitions cast aside, it just goes where it goes. ’

‛ see i’m a great big bad brown buffalo. ’

‛ my head is full of acid, but my heart is kind and pure. ’

‛ he’s the trouble you’ve been looking for! ’

‛ my politics are liberal, but i pack a .44. ’

‛ i pack a .44, which i use to fight for those who are too weak to wage a war. ’

‛ i’m the trouble we’ve been looking for! ’

‛ my mind is open wide, it expands, it expands. ’

‛ every open gate i pried with these hands. ’

‛ leaving no path untried, walks the sands. ’

‛ i’m no ordinary human, no no no. ’

‛ this is my birthright, baby, and this is my song! ’

‛ food, booze, drugs, guns, and radical politics! ’

‛ you’re the brown buffalo. ’

‛ see now you know. ’

MICHAEL IN THE BATHROOM.

‛ i am hanging in the bathroom at the biggest party of the fall. ’

‛ i could stay right here or disappear, and nobody’d even notice at all. ’

‛ i’m a creeper in a bathroom cause my buddy kinda left me alone. ’

‛ but i’d rather fake pee than stand awkwardly or pretend to check a text on my phone. ’

‛ everything felt fine when i was half of a pair. ’

‛ now through no fault of mine, there’s no other half there. ’

‛ now i’m just [name] in the bathroom. ’

‛ [name] in the bathroom at a party. ’

‛ forget how long it’s been. ’

‛ no, you can’t come in! ’

‛ i’m waiting it out till it’s time to leave. ’

‛ i’m just [name] who you don’t know. ’

‛ [name] flyin’ solo. ’

‛ [name] in the bathroom by himself. ’

‛ all by himself. ’

‛ i am hiding, but he’s out there, just ignoring all our history. ’

‛ memories get erased and i’ll get replaced with a newer, cooler version of me. ’

‛ i’ll get replaced with a newer, cooler version of me. ’

‛ i hear a drunk girl sing along to whitney through the door. ’

‛ now there’s no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore! ’

‛ i half regret the beers. ’

‛ i’ll wait as long as i need till my face is dry. ’

‛ i’ll just blame it on weed or something in my eye. ’

‛ they’re gonna start to shout soon. ’

‛ oh hell yeah, i’ll be out soon! ’

‛ it sucks he left me here alone. ’

‛ here in this teenage battlezone. ’

‛ i feel the pressure blowin’ up. ’

‛ my big mistake was showin’ up. ’

‛ i throw some water in my face and i am in a better place. ’

‛ i go to open up the door, but i can’t hear knocking anymore. ’

‛ and i can’t help but yearn for a different time. ’

‛ then i look in the mirror and the present is clearer. ’

‛ this is a heinous night. ’

‛ i wish i stayed at home in bed, watching cable porn. ’

‛ wish i offed myself instead, wish i was never born! ’

‛ i’m just [name] who’s a loner, so he must be a stoner. ’

‛ god, he’s such a loser! ’

‛ all you know about me is my name. ’

‛ awesome party, i’m so glad i came. ’

THE GOODBYE SONG.

‛ the time has come. ’

‛ i’m flying away. ’

‛ mouth is numb. heart don’t know what to say. ’

‛ and although i’ll be out of sight, dear, know i’ll be right here. ’

‛ right here forever. ’

‛ and when you look to the night skies, don’t think of goodbyes. ’

‛ think how i’m right here. ’

‛ thank you for teaching me lessons. ’

‛ thank you for listening to mine. ’

‛ don’t be scared, you’ll be fine. ’

‛ come! ’

‛ no, you can’t come with me. ’

‛ stay! ’

‛ i wish i could. ’

‛ goodbye. ’

‛ i know it’s hard to say. ’

‛ i’d stay if i could. ’

‛ i’d stay if i could, but the universe won’t let me. ’

‛ but the universe won’t let me, so please be good. ’

‛ so please be good and don’t you forget me. ’

KABOOM.

‛ i never cared about caring much before. ’

‛ i rolled my eyes and even texting was a chore. ’

‛ i was your average heartless kid. ’

‛ hey, read this book. ’

‛ the book is by some guy who’s dead. ’

‛ i read it and i’m glad i did. ’

‛ it was by a person who i never knew, but the words made sense and the message too. ’

‛ the words made sense and message too. ’

‛ it made me fired up, it made me care. ’

‛ i wasn’t scared, i was not alone. ’

‛ made me wanna make something of my own. ’

‛ something wired up that i could share. ’

‛ and that person i would never see just totally affected me. ’

‛ is that legacy? ’

‛ i never cared about fireworks before. ’

‛ i thought that they were just for babies, nothing more. ’

‛ i was your average fucking kid. ’

‛ i was your average fucking kid, but then i started giving things a second look. ’

‛ but then i started giving things a second look and realized fireworks were kind of like that book. ’

‛ and i’m really glad i did. ’

‛ if handled with intelligence and care, the explosion and the crashing sound can seen and felt for miles around. ’

‛ it reaches folks who weren’t even there. ’

‛ even though i didn’t see the blast, i watched glitter in the sky blow past. ’

‛ and that’s legacy. ’

‛ what do i leave behind? ’

‛ which is why we gotta make a spark. ’

‛ which makes a flame and then will leave its mark for someone else to find. ’

‛ and that person who lived dangerously makes me braver than i used to be. ’

‛ and now i’m fired up and how i care. ’

‛ and i always squeeze my bloody heart and i let it drip into my art. ’

‛ and wow, i’m fired up. ’

‛ the light that shines on the distant shore is the light i will be aiming for, forever. ’

‛ it’s where i want to go. ’

‛ and i’m gonna reach it. ’

‛ oh, on with the wonderful show! ’

[yutikyis]

Honest Q&A: Round 4! 7x7 Table

It looks like there’s even more of you this time? Well, I suppose better than running off...

Well, right to business then. It looks like our readers picked something of an overarching topic today. Everyone seated where they want? Good. We’ll start, as usual, with you Miss Kyis.

Faith is a belief in the right things. Who or what would you say you have the most faith in?

Yuti: O-oh, s-so many more people. U-um. W-well... t-that’s difficult. M-my friends I think. L-Lloire and the O-Order and... a-all of those people who’ve b-been around me for a long time. T-they’re the ones I know I c-can depend on most of all. 

Reri: Oh Hells, of course ya say that, Snowflake. Me? I got faith in myself. Ain’t nobody else ta have faith in. When the MGP is down an’ ya need to depend on someone, ain’t ever gonna be someone who is there all the time but yerself. Sayo: My family, of course, and the Kami. What else could be true? Rahya: Well, truth bein’ what it is an’ all that, I’m belevin’ in the wind. Aasifa bein’ tellin’ me about it an’ it seems like a mighty good thing. It ain’t always kind but it seems like it all works out inna end, yeah?

Eynwyda: Strength. Meichi’a: ... yes? Surely you have more to say? No? Well, okay then! As for myself I have faith in wine, women and song.There are many glorious things in the world but few as oft beautiful and delightful as those three things. Even should another Calamity come, we can at least thrive if those three survive. Rhoe: Knowledge. The Twelve’s blessings are great things but depending on them is a fool’s game. The only thing worth having faith in is what you can know. 

Pride is an excessive belief in one’s own abilities. In what do you take the most pride? A particular skill? A remarkable achievement?

Yuti: ... M-my healing skills, I w-would suppose. N-no matter what else, I can say without qualm that I a-am a gifted healer. I-it’s the skill I’ve the m-most pride in.

Reri: You sayin’ I gotta pick just one? Hells, ya might as well ask me to pick a single grain o’ sand. If I gotta pick one, I’m gonna say my knifework. My archery’s a sight to behold, my axin’ is superb, but my knifework? Mm-hmm.  Sayo: You are the soul of modesty, ma’am. I must admit this is a difficult question to answer. While I am very proud of my talents they are the result of my family’s work and dedication. It would be unseemly to pretend they come from me alone.

Rahya: Oh. Um. I’m figurin’ it’d be my cards? Probably them. Lotta folk seem to like ‘em some... so them.  

Eynwyda: Strength

Meichi’a: ... Really? Twice in a row? Is that allowed? Yes? Well, I’m not the one asking the questions. I would say my voice is my greatest pride. My songs leave beauties weak in the knees and, of course, I’ve a talent with words to rival poets. 

Rhoe: Well, nobody said your answers couldn’t be delusional. I would say my vermagic. It takes a goodly amount of effort to become proficient with sword and spell alike. 

Hope is taking a positive future view, that good will prevail. What would you say that you hope for the most?

Yuti: T-to be honest, I h-hope for a future of peace. W-where we finally m-move beyond all these w-wars and c-conflicts and f-find a way to unite our a-abilities f-for the greater good of all.

Reri: *loud retching sounds* Look, ya can’t serious expect me to answer honestly after that bullshite, can you? ~I hope fer rainbows and puppies and fuckin’ unicorns to rain from the sky.~ If ya want an honest answer? A good challenge. That’s what.

Sayo: I hope that when my end comes I am satisfied with my life and have done my family proud. 

Rahya: ... Ta be honest I’m hopin’ for the rainbows and puppies an’ unicorns, though if they’re doin’ that other thing I think they should be doin’ it in private an’ not while it’s rainin’

Eynwyda: Strength

Meichi’a: Really now! My good woman, are you a spoken or a mammet!? Surely you can... my but that is quite the glare you have. Ahem. Well, for myself? I look forward to seeing what lies over the next bend. Should it be a charming raven-haired lass with an ample bosom, well, all the better, no? 

Rhoe: The same thing anyone else. That I’m alive, that I’m happy, that we’re not all serfs in some Garlean-run hole or void-touched corpses in some forgotten Hellsvoid. 

Envy is wanting what others have, be it status, abilities, or possessions. Is there someone or something you are envious of? It doesn’t have to be a huge all-consuming envy, even something small.

Yuti: ... I-if I must be honest? T-those with children. T-there’s something... j-just wonderful about it. B-biological or a-adopted or j-just ones they take care of, l-like Frost and Tyr. I t-think y-you see the g-greatest of people w-when you see them with children. ... I-in most cases.

Reri: Ya know, Snowflake, ya can solve that problem in a real quick and fun way if ya get that stick out of yer arse. Don’t think i don’t know what ya mean by in most cases. Me? I ain’t envyin’ shite from anyone. I got anythin’ I want or I can get it.

Sayo: ... I envy those who have freedom from responsibility. There are days I long... no, nevermind.

Rahya: Um... well... I ain’t... I’mma guessin’ I envy them folk who ain’t frightened of nothin’? But I ain’t like sour at ‘em for it or nothin’. Just wishin’ I was more like ‘em... Eynwyda: Greater strength.

Meichi’a: Two words this time. Well, we seem to be improving, don’t we? Ah! That glare again. Maybe... would you care to switch places? No? Okay. Ahem. No, I am most certainly not trying to avoid the... fine! If you must know? Those who have found their soulmates and kept them close. It’s a rare gift and one which far too many take for granted.

Rhoe: People with someone reliable to turn to. You’d be surprised how rare it is. 

Charity is concern for, and active helping of, others. Do you believe yourself to exhibit this virtue? Be it yours or another’s, what act or moment stands out for you as a charitable one?

Yuti: ... I l-like to think I am, t-though certainly I am n-not a paragon of it. M-most healers w-will spend their days helping others b-but to me the greatest p-paragons of virtue a-are those who do well f-for others without e-even thinking of it. T-Tyr comes to mind...

Reri: Yeah, I’ll bet she does. Charity’s a waste’a time. Ya help others if it is for a reason, like makin’ the tribe stronger. Charity for the sake of charity is just breedin’ weakness. 

Sayo: Charity is a noble virtue. To help others is to demonstrate the strength of one’s own soul. Those who are less fortunate should be elevated and assisted. It is only honorable. Eldest always says that we are only as strong as our weakest member.

Rahya: Um... I ain’t sure I’m that chattyrble. I ain’t gotta lota stuff to give folk or anythin’... but folks are real nice ta me. I figure the most chattryble person I know is Aki bein’ as she’s always givin’ away money an’ throwin’ parties an’ stuff.

Eynwyda: I am not particularly charitable. 

Meichi’a: By Halone’s fury, an actual answer! Ah! To do a good deed is a balm for the soul. Few things are as delightful as bringing a smile to the face of others. Of course if that smile happens to belong to a lovely lady, well, all the better, no? Nobody said charity can’t ever benefit the giver as well, yes? ... what IS with all these looks?

Rhoe: Charity is all well and good as long as it makes sense. Giving away your last gil to a pauper may make you feel good but it won’t actually help anything. Better to get the pauper a job. That’s the kind of charity I can get behind.

Gluttony is the desire to eat or consume more than you require. What is the one thing best guaranteed to show off your gluttonous side?

Yuti: F-fish, t-to be honest. I r-really can’t get enough of m-most seafood. I p-probably should be c-careful about that.

Reri: Booze. What? You want more than that. Booze. Alcohol. Spirits. The good shite. What more do ya want?

Sayo: ... It is improper for a flower to overindulge. 

Rahya: Um... I ain’t never really had much ta overeat with... so maybe sweet stuffs? I’ll eat a lotta sweet stuffs if I can, even if it ain’t so good for me ta do so. 

Eynwyda: Meat.

Meichi’a: I’ll let that one slide.... mostly because I fear this dear woman may belt me if I don’t. Ah, what doesn’t? A good meal, good drink, good music, good company... life is to be lived. As long as it brings joy I don’t feel one can over-indulge. 

Rhoe: A good glass of wine usually. 

Fortitude is never giving up. With as many strong willed people as there are here, I imagine this will prompt good responses. What is it you would never give up on? Is it a person, a goal?

Yuti: ... H-helping the people i care about. M-most of whom I think genuinely need it. E-especially those I k-know can do a-amazing things if only they h-have the support. I f-figure if I haven’t a-already given up on Lloire or L-Leera, I’m n-not doing it anytime soon. 

Reri: I don’t give up on anythin’. If I can’t do it then I’m dead. If I’m not dead then I’m plannin’ how ta do it. If you give up then yer already done livin’. It’s just yer walkin’ around in your corpse for a bit after.

Sayo: I have come to Eorzea with a goal and I will not give it up easily. I intend to find my own achievements here.

Rahya: Um... I... I ain’t so sure I’m gonna answer this question so well? Bein’ as I give up on a lotta things. I’m tryin’ ta get better though... so I guess that’s it? I ain’t givin’ up on not givin’ up? I don’t know if that even makes no sense.

Eynwyda: Improvement. 

Meichi’a: Living. I have a life to lead and I intend to lead it, no matter where the Weaver’s threads take me. Simple enough, no?

Rhoe: I agree with the prissy boy, actually. Living is a challenge in itself. I’ll stick with that. 

Lust is a powerful craving for things such as sex and power. Do you feel that you give in to those temptations easily? What do you lust after the most?

Yuti: I... w-well... t-that is t-to say... I’m a... I mean... I... I d-don’t give into t-temptation easily I feel. I’ve... t-that is... c-can w-we leave it there?  T-this is a humiliating question. 

Reri: What the Snowflake is sayin’ is that yes, she wants ta screw. So does probably everyone in this room except maybe ol’ one-eye over there seeing as I’m not entirely sure she can dress herself in the morning from the way she talks.  That’s my answer by the way. A good battle an’ a good lay. It’s not a temptation, it’s what I want an’ there’s nothin’ wrong with it.

Sayo: I... t-that is to say all people have temptations. Learning to control and master them is an important part of being a second daughter. Not merely temptations of the flesh but of the spirit as well. Any further answer would be improper.

Rahya: *mumbles uncomfortably* I dress myself awful good, even if I ain’t fashionable ‘bout it or nothin’ like that.. o-oh. Um. Right. Ya questionin’ me. Um. I’m figurin’ I ain’t doin’ that stuff much. I’m happy huggin’ folk an’ I ain’t wantin’ ta be powerful. I’m right happy wit’ everythin’ I got right now.

Eynwyda: I control myself.

Meichi’a: Ah, but I am afraid that the craven temptations of the flesh are oft too much for me to overcome. When the spirit is weak and the flesh is oh-so-willing, I feel I sometimes allow my, ah, baser impulses more free reign than I should. There was this once charming lass, so delightful and vivacious, but I swear she never told me she was enga-

Rhoe: Right, I don’t really want to hear about that. In my line of work you can’t really give into temptation easily. Too many baleful magics love to prey upon weakness. Anyone who gives into lust, physical or otherwise, probably is getting their soul eaten the first chance they get. 

Justice is being fair and equitable with others. It is the guiding principle of certain Dark Knights. Do you believe in justice? Is such a thing possible in the world we live in?

Yuti: Y-yes. I believe in justice. I d-don’t think it’s synonymous w-with laws but I believe i-it exists. Everyone must f-find their own morality a-and their own guiding principles. W-we can make the world a fair place for a-all.

Reri: Ta steal an old phrase: There ain’t no justice, there’s just us. The world ain’t fair or equitable. It’ll eat ya up and spit ya out and not give a damn. Tryin’ ta hold ta some idea of justice is a nice way ta get yerself used. Ya hear that Snowflake? 

Sayo: Rules and laws exist for a reason. The justice in those rules may not always be obvious but it exists. However justice must be tempered by restraint. Unlike some I do not believe justice goes hand-in-hand with violence, though sometimes it is unavoidable. 

Rahya: Um... I don’t really know what ya mean by justice, but I’m figurin’ that being fair is just a good thing, right? So... I believe in bein’ fair. I like it when folks are fair ta one another. I ain’t seein’ why it wouldn’t be possible. 

Eynwyda: Justice is born of strength to uphold your convictions. Nothing less.

Meichi’a: My, we’re up to two sentences now. I certainly believe in justice... though I fear it is not something I think the world gives us easily. The rich are rich, the poor are poor, and no amount of ‘justice’ will change that. One can strive to be as fair and equitable in their life as they like, but the world as a whole? No, my dear sir, it is not one that welcomes justice kindly.

Rhoe: Justice is in the eye of the beholder. You find what you think is just and you do it. Anything’s possible in this world. It just depends on if it’s probable to survive doing it. 

Anger is the loss of rational self-control and the desire to harm others. Are you one to lose control to your anger? What was the worst case of letting it loose that comes to mind?

Yuti: ... Yes. I h-have a problem with my temper. W-when I see friends hurt o-or people I c-care about suffering... I... I’m n-not the best at keeping myself in check. T-Tyr has helped with that but... t-to be honest the worst anger isn’t h-hot. It’s cold. T-the worst thing I e-ever did in a r-rage wasn’t b-boiling anger. It w-was when I knew exactly w-what I did... a-and I h-hurt someone rather badly because of it. 

Reri: Snowflake, I’m gonna drag that story outta you some day because I’m actually startin’ ta get curious. Probably gonna disappoint the Hells out of me when I found out ya slapped an idiot or somethin’. Oh, don’t give me that look. Yeah, I’ve gotten angry at folk. Killed some folk too. Can’t say I ever lost control though. I know what I’m doin’. My knife doesn’t find its mark by accident. 

Sayo: Self-restraint is a virtue that I strive to uphold. I have felt anger but I have never allowed it to overwhelm me. Anything else would be... unseemly.

Rahya: Nope! Nononope! I ain’t gettin’ angry at nobody. I ain’t likin’ bein’ angry ta be honest. It ain’t feelin’ good. I’d rather give someone a hug an’ alla that. If someone does somethin’ i ain’t likin’ I just... I ain’t wantin’ ta be around them is all. Not hurt them none.

Eynwyda: I remain in control. If I do not, people die. It has happened before.

Meichi’a: ... M-maybe I should be a bit more cautious about my jibes. They are all meant in good fun, my dear woman! All in good fun! Ah... as for myself? No, I do not get angry easily. There’s little point in it, yes? I don’t favor harming others. I admit it puts me in a right temper if I see a maiden being harmed though. I’ve issued more than one duel challenge on behalf of their honor! ... few accept though.

Rhoe: I get angry from time to time but I don’t lose control. Well, not often. I’ve had some bad relationships. Once threw an ex out of the house in his smallclothes in the middle of winter. He deserved it though. 

Prudence is care of and moderation with gil. This one is a bit simpler. Are you a gil-pincher or do you spend with abandon?

Yuti: I’m c-careful with money. N-not because I’m a s-spendthrift o-or anything b-but just because it’s p-prudent. I-it’s not wise to waste g-gil now t-that could be useful later. I s-splurge s-sometimes but... o-only rarely.

Reri: Gil ain’t worth a damn thing burnin’ a hole in your pocket. I spend if it I want ta and i earn it if I need it. Savin’ for later if you got somethin’ you want now doesn’t make sense. Ya could be dead in a day and then that ‘hard-saved’ gil is just goin’ ta buy whoever killed ya a good drink or a cheap lay. 

Sayo: I am ever impressed by your ability to make every answer crude, Miss Kyis. I am very careful with my gil. One must be. To spend it wildly means to be without it should the need arise. Should I run a household someday I will also need to know how to best manage the finances. It is an expected skill for any daughter. 

Rahya: Well, I ain’t ever had much gil, so it ain’t really a question I can answer. Um... I spend what I got but it’s mostly cuz I need stuff. Most gil I ever had was when Aasifa gave me the Starlight gift an’ I spent that on my an part mant right away I did. So I guess I’m spendin’? I ain’t abandonin’ it though, I’m always given it ta the folks I’m buyin’ from.

Eynwyda: I spend when I need to.

Meichi’a: Ah! What is money but the passport to experiences? Perhaps my life would be easier if I held onto my gil but easier isn’t the same as worth living, now is it? Better to spend gil on a night of good cheer and good company than to have it upon you unspent. After all the luster of coin can scarcely compare to that of a charming smile or a rousing song, yes? 

Rhoe: I’ll take the happy medium, thanks. You don’t need to spend every gil you get and you don’t need to horde it like a dragon. It’s kind of a ridiculous question when you think about it. There’s an answer: don’t be an idiot. 

Greed is the desire for material wealth or gain. Some might think this goes hand in hand with prudence but that is not the case. Even those who string their gil-pouches tightest can be known for their charity or simply do not fret over making more gil. Are you a take-take-take sort? Is the gathering of wealth important to you?

Yuti: No. Material g-gain isn’t important to me. T-the most valuable things I h-have are people, not things. I’d g-give every gil I had a-and more so i-if it would help my friends a-and those close to me. I-it’s nice to have things b-but I’m h-happy with what I do have. 

Reri: For once I agree with the Snowflake. Treasure ain’t worth shite on its own. The act of aquirin’ it can be fun but that’s about it.

Sayo: My family has not become comfortable and wealthy through luck. One must work to acquire what one needs and then have enough extra for emergencies. I suppose you could call that greed? My sire is not fond of spending money he does not have to spend but Eldest gives freely within her limits. I can see the value in both sides. 

Rahya: I’ve gotta slime an’ a flower an’ frankly I’m thinkin’ that’s already more luck then I can rightly ask for, so I ain’t askin’ for more. 

Eynwyda: Wealth is a means, not a goal.

Meichi’a: I must echo what seems to be the common consensus. I’d be a liar if I said there wasn’t a satisfaction in the feeling of gil in hand, but it’s a momentary distraction at best. There are far more charming vices than greed after all. The greedy die alone. At least those who are lustful or foolish oft die with others. To die alone is the saddest thing of all. 

Rhoe: I like getting paid. I’ll do work pro-bono if it’s interesting but it’s a lot more interesting when I know there’s a good meal and another month’s rent in it. You can call that greedy if you want. I think it’s common sense. 

Temperance is moderation of needed things and abstinence from things which are not needed. In essence it is the opposite of gluttony. Is there anything that you find you abstain from that you wish you did not?

Yuti: I... d-don’t know to be honest. M-maybe... s-seeking comfort. I t-tend to k-keep things inside a-and not speak openly t-to most. T-though I have good reason for that.

Reri: *raises hand* Yep, good reason number one right here. Ya can be honest, Snowflake, ain’t nobody in this room who doesn’t think I’m a nasty bitch. An’ as for me? Nope. I want somethin’, I do it. What the Hells would I abstain from? 

Sayo: ... many things. Restraint is also a virtue. It is not proper to allow your desires to run away with you. It is unseemly and immodest. There are things I wish I could do, but I have my duties.

Rahya: Um.. lotta things really. I ain’t... really so brave an’ I don’t do a lotta things even if I’m wantin’ ta. I’m tryin’ ta get braver though! I’m goin’ places an’ I used ta not do that so... that’s kinda my answer?

Eynwyda: Yes.

Meichi’a: ... Wait, it’s my turn? That was her answer? Can I just say yes too? Sigh. Yes, of course there are. Many things. I’ve been offered plenty of temptations, sinful and otherwise, and abstain for a variety of reasons. You would be shocked how many married women offer a place in their boudair, but that is simply not a risk worth taking. It’s not gentlemanly at all to intrude upon wedding vows.

Rhoe: I suppose. Everyone does. Sometimes I get jealous of people like the prissy boy or the nasty bitch. It’s got to be a relief to not give a damn and just do whatever you want. That doesn’t mean I’m going to do it though. 

Sloth is laziness and the avoidance of work. Somehow I don’t see that being of much concern with this group, but what would you say is your laziest habit?

Yuti: ... t-to be honest I’m r-rather bad about organizing my room if I d-don’t have to. When I p-put a book down I tend to leave it lying wherever I put it. S-sometimes it can become a r-real mess if I’m in the middle of research.

Reri: She ain’t lyin’. You shoulda seen her room back home. She *slept* on books somehow. Me? I ain’t lazy. Lazy means yer dead. If I got a lazy habit, it’s stayin’ in one place for too long.

Sayo: It is improper to be lazy. To work your hardest is to show pride in what you’re doing. T-that is not to say I’ve never cut corners from time to time. I... have a rather shameful habit of sleeping in late when it is cold. D-don’t look at me like that please. Blankets can be very comfortable...  Rahyda: Oh! Oh! Can I agree with that one? Because ever since I got me blankets I’ve been wantin’ ta sleep in a whole bunch! So that’s my answer! Sorry if’n I’m stealin’ ya answer, Miss Sayo, but I’m agreein’ with it.  Eynwyda: Laziness is death.

Meichi’a: ... Well, aren’t you all a bunch of hard workers? Now I feel rather ungainly answering. Yes, I am lazy. Everyone is, i suspect, even these remarkable people. I ride when I can walk, I sleep in late, I leave dishes unwashed... sometimes you simply just don’t feel like doing something, isn’t that right? 

Rhoe: I’m terrible about filing paperwork. It takes me ages to get everything properly organized.  

Meichi’a: Really. Paperwork. Did you just choose that to make me look worse?

Rhoe: No, you do that fine on your own. 

Thank you for taking the time out of your busy days to give some insight into your inner thoughts for our readers. I know today’s questions were a little tougher than some of the ones before but I hope you don’t begrudge me asking you. Before you go, what do you all think of me?

Yuti: .. W-well, y-you seem very nice. I’m n-not sure why you g-gathered all of us h-here but you’re v-very patient. S-some odd questions though...

Reri: Eh. 6/10. Ya got a crappy mustache. Either grow it out or shave it off. What you weren’t askin’ about that? Well, it’s still a shite mustache.  

Sayo: It is an honor to answer your questions. They give me much to think about. 

Rahya: Ya a real nice fella, even if I ain’t understandin’ everything ya askin’ about.  Eynwyda: ... 

Meichi’a: Ah, my dear sir. It has been a thorough pleasure to answer your questions. Especially as you offered me a fair amount of gil to do so.  Rhoe: You have some weird taste in interviewees. 

tagged by: @peacekeeper-xiv

tagging: @anataerindottir @jonahsage @eyesseeingbeyondtheveil @fairasmorninglight anyone else who wants to.

[hellomissmabel]

When he was mine

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mild angst. Brief mention of sexy times but not the actual thing.

Word count: 2.460

Summary: Nat and the girls help you get over Bucky.

A/N: Written for @caplanbuckybarnes her song challenge! I love you sweetie <3 Inspired by Dua Lipa’s “New Rules”.

You and Bucky met at a housewarming party. Turned out you had a lot of friends in common and much to Nat’s surprise, you were never really formally introduced. Well, you knew Steve, Bucky’s best friend, since you both studied at the same college. And you had a fling with Sam, Steve’s roommate, who you don’t see that often anymore after he moved to Chicago after his graduation.

You and Tony don’t get along very well so you stay clear from his parties, as did Bucky who had a beef with Tony when they were both after the same girl. Occasionally you get together with Clint but married life keeps him too busy to actual attend any parties so it’s been a while since you got to catch up. So when Pietro moved out of his sister’s apartment and got his own place, Natasha decided this was the perfect opportunity for all your friends to get together again and for you to finally get introduced to the brunet.

You two had a lot of mutual interests and soon you started dating. But last year when you decided to take the next big step and move in together, you and Bucky fell out after a serious discussion about your hopes and dreams and the future you were hoping to share together. Even though you still were like two peas in a pod, you both struggled with the details of the plan you were designing together.

As a city girl, you wanted to stay in the city. Coming from a small family, you wanted to have at least two or three kids. And considering you grew up watching your mother struggle with a job she loathed, you made it your goal in life to also find a job you love. Bucky, having grown up in the city as well, felt it was time for a change and was considering a suburban house. He also wasn’t particularly picky when it came to job-hunting not to mention the fact that having even one kid already scared him to death.

Talkin' in my sleep at night Makin' myself crazy (Out of my mind, out of my mind) Wrote it down and read it out Hopin' it would save me (Too many times, too many times) My love, he makes me feel like nobody else Nobody else But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself I tell myself

And so one Friday night, after another fight, you found yourself knocking on Natasha’s door. “Nattie?,” you cried softly. “Nattie! Are you there?”

When she opened the door, your tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes were the first thing she noticed. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?,” she cooed kindly as she guided you inside, sitting you down on the couch and getting you a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, holding you tightly.

“Bucky and I got into a fight again,” you sniffed loudly into Nat’s handkerchief. “We’re through.”

“Did you fight about his job again?,” she asked and you shook your head no. “About wanting to start a family then?” Again you said no. “Was it about the house you went to look at with me? Didn’t he like it?”

“He did like it,” you finally piped up after you wiped away some excess snot from your nose, embarrassed that Natasha had to see you in a state like this. Shrugging, you confessed the real problem to her. “He just didn’t like me going to an open house behind his back. But I was just trying to save our relationship, Nat.”

Natasha sighs a little, a glum expression dulling down her fiery brown eyes. “If I had known you left Bucky in the dark on your little house hunt, I would never have agreed to go with you. You know Bucky has trust issues.”

You reach out to take her hand and she squeezes it gently. “I think – I think Bucky doesn’t love me anymore. I think he’s just staying with me because we’ve been together for so long. I just - I love him so much, Nattie. But I couldn’t do it anymore… so I ended it. Told him to pack his bags and go stay at Stevie’s until he finds something else of his own.”

Desperately, your eyes search her gentle eyes for understanding. And she understands, she really does. But she also knows Bucky and much to her dismay, you’re probably right. He’s never been with anyone else but Y/N and neither has Y/N ever been with anyone else but Bucky. The only difference is that to Y/N, Bucky is the one and only. Whereas Bucky approaches love the same way he approaches life: come what may.

“What do you say if I call the girls, hm?,” she suggests, pressing her lips to your temple and murmuring sweet nothings to calm down the shaking of your hands. “Sharon, Wanda, Maria,... we’ll have a girl’s night out. We’ll pamper each other and drinks lots of cocktails. It’ll cheer you up.”

Thinking it over, you gaze down at your fidgeting fingers. “Okay. Call the girls. I don’t wanna be all alone tonight.”

One, don't pick up the phone You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone Two, don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three, don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him

About half an hour later, you’re sitting in a circle doing Maria’s hair while Nat is braiding yours. When it’s girls’ night, everyone takes care of everyone. There’s hair, nails and make-up first. Then it’s looking for the right outfit to party. And all the way through, there are cosmopolitans. But while sipping on your fourth glass of the evening, your phone starts to buzz yet before you can answer it, Sharon snatches it away from you.

“Don’t you dare answer it,” she warns you as she reads Bucky’s name on the display.

“Oh hell no,” Nat chimes in, taking the phone from Sharon and threatening to drop it in her laundry bag. “You’re not answering that! He’s only calling you because he’s drunk and alone.”

“You don’t know that,” you try to argue with Nat but all the girls agree. Bucky wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t go on a pub crawl after something bad happens to him. And when you’ve lived with someone for as long as Bucky has with Y/N, the loneliness kicks in twice as hard once the realisation has sunk in.

“If you’re gonna get over him, we’re gonna have to set some ground rules. First one being, no phone calls. You’re not some broken creature that hides behind her boyfriend, you’re a strong woman that doesn’t need a man in order to stand her ground.”

I keep pushin' forwards, but he keeps pullin' me backwards (Nowhere to turn) no way (Nowhere to turn) no Now I'm standing back from it, I finally see the pattern (I never learn, I never learn) But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself I tell myself I do, I do, I do

Nevertheless, not even an hour later, the doorbell rings and Maria moves to open the door. You hear a faint “hi” and Maria’s voice shouting out for Natasha. You can hear forced whispering and what sounds like a heated argument, which peaks your interests even more about who’s visiting Nat at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. So you get up from your spot on the couch and take a peek, your mind and body freezing once you see Bucky standing in front of a very annoyed Maria and an extremely pissed off Natasha.

“Please let me in. I gotta talk to her,” Bucky pleads to both girls with those signature puppy dog eyes. But that trick doesn’t work on them, it only does on you. And very well so, because if it wasn’t for Sharon gently guiding you back to the living room you would’ve rushed to him. But Bucky has already spotted you and jumps past Maria, forcefully pushing Nat aside so he can reach you. He has barely touched your arm when Sharon positions herself in between your body and his, preventing Bucky from taking any further action and at the same time allowing Wanda to escort him back outside.

“Please! Y/N!,” are his desperate cries for your attention. “I love you! Please! Please don’t let it end like this!”

“Ground rule number two: don’t let him in, you’ll just have to kick him out again,” Nat tells you after throwing the door in Bucky’s face. You can still hear him wailing outside her door as she turns up the volume of the music, “Despacito” blaring through the speakers and dulling out Bucky’s pleas.

Eventually you hear a car outside driving away and Sharon looks outside the window to confirm it’s Bucky’s. “I’m so sorry, love,” she says sadly, her eyes cast downwards.

“Don’t cry over that Brooklyn boy.” Wanda envelopes you in her warm embrace. “He’s not worth it.”

“Let’s finish up on our make-up and go out, have some fun. What do you say, darling?,” Nat chimes in, trying to make her voice sound more chipper than she’s feeling.

And so that night you went out to party. You and your girlfriends and a whole lot of alcohol to numb your feelings. Even though Nat insisted it was more than okay for you to stay over and spend the night at her place, you didn’t feel like sleeping on a stranger’s couch when the heartbreak was still so fresh. So you went back home, shed your clothes and dove into your bed only to cry yourself to sleep.

One, don't pick up the phone You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone Two, don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three, don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him

But as the days went by and spring turned into summer, you felt yourself getting used to the single life. You even started dating again, your heart getting less heavy the more time you spent with your new love. That is, until that unfortunate morning you ran into Bucky at the grocery store. It was awkward at first, a mere handshake enough to tear open all those old wounds. You exchanged a polite smile and there was no small talk, just a simple hello. You wanted this no never occur again, but fate disagreed with you. So you kept running into each other, at the local café where you got your morning fix of coffee, or at the pub where you went for drinks with your co-workers after your shift had ended. It seemed as if life was trying to offer you a helping hand. And so you decided to be friends.

Nat had warned you for him. “Being just friends with Bucky will never work out.” And it didn’t, because as soon as you had agreed to go the movies with a couple of your mutual friends, you found yourself in his bed the exact same night. This worked for you and Bucky for a year or so until the pressure to be more than friends with benefits increased to a point you were losing yourself in a relationship you didn’t want to be in anymore. A second break-up was imminent, even though you never really were together.

Practice makes perfect I'm still tryna' learn it by heart (I got new rules, I count 'em) Eat, sleep, and breathe it Rehearse and repeat it, 'cause I (I got new, I got new, I...)

One Friday night, there was a soft knock on your door. “Y/N/N?,” she cried softly. “Y/N/N! Are you there?”

When you opened the door, Sharon’s tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes were the first thing you noticed. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong,” you cooed kindly as you guided her inside, sitting you down on the couch and getting her a blanket to wrap around her shoulders, holding her tightly.

“Steve and I got into a fight again,” she sniffed loudly into your handkerchief. “We’re through.”

“Did you fight about that job offer in Washington D.C. again?,” you asked and she shook her head no. “About your wish to spend Christmas with your family in Atlanta instead of with his in Boston?” Again Sharon said no. “Was it about not wanting a shared account?”

“He found my pregnancy test,” she finally piped up after she wiped away some excess snot from her nose. Shrugging, she confessed the real problem to you. “I know how much he wants a child and I just – I just can’t get pregnant, Y/N. It was another negative pregnancy test and he was so disappointed. I could see his face light up and then fall in just mere seconds.”

You reach out to take her hand and you squeeze it gently. “He was disappointed in me and I just couldn’t take it any longer, so I broke things off.”

Kissing the top of her head, you whisper into her hair. “Do you remember Nat’s two ground rules? From when Bucky and I broke up?”

Sharon nods and lays her head to rest on your shoulder. “Rule number one,” she says solemnly. “Don’t pick up the phone.”

“That’s right,” you encourage kindly, “because he’ll probably be at a bar with Bucky, drunk off his ass and feeling lonely. And if he shows up at your door, don’t let him in. That’s rule number two. You’ll just have to kick him out again.”

Sighing a little, you remember the heartbreak and hardship you went through after your first separation from Bucky and the mistakes you made that led to your second one. So you add a third rule to the equation, lifting up her chin and smiling tenderly at the distraught girl in your arms.

“And rule number three, don’t be his friend. You’ll just end up in his bed in the morning and you can’ get over him if you’re under him.” Sharon chuckles a little at this. “Now let’s call the girls, hm? Nattie, Wanda, Maria,… We’ll have a girls’ night. It’ll make you feel better,” you say before dialling the first number.

One, don't pick up the phone You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone Two, don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three, don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him

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How to Run a Successful Virtual Event [+ Examples]

Nowadays, plenty of business is done virtually. For instance, you might begin your morning by answering emails and editing a colleague’s blog post via Google Doc. Your colleague is working from home today, so you Slack him to let him know when the piece is ready. In the afternoon, you have a 1:1 via Zoom with your remote manager. Then, around 4 PM, you log into a company’s webinar to learn more about Social Media Marketing in 2020. The webinar has a panel of experts, and you’re able to download the recorded webinar later for future reference. Undoubtedly, online tools and experiences are an integral part of a modern marketer’s role.

However, there is one aspect of business that seems, until recently, almost entirely untouched by virtual experience: conferences. Our historic mindset around conferences is that we board a plane to a conference, bring our business cards, and prepare ourselves for a week of keynote speakers, breakout sessions, and networking events that enable us to spread the word about our own products and services, while collaborating with other marketers who might have useful tools or suggestions of their own. In 2020, there will likely be a rise of virtual conferences. Here, let’s explore the benefits of virtual conferences, take a look at some examples of successful virtual conferences to inspire you, and check out a few tools that can help you plan your own. But first — let’s talk about why virtual conferences can benefit your business in the future. Virtual Conference Benefits There are plenty of major benefits to hosting a virtual conference. For one, it can lower the price of admission, enabling smaller businesses with limited budgets to purchase tickets to your conference and offer their own unique insights. It also lowers the cost your business would have to pay for conference space, on-hand staff, catering, security, and much more. Additionally, it allows people from across the globe to interact with each other without needing to spend exorbitant amounts on flights and hotels. Imagine how much easier it is for marketers from India, Ireland, Australia, and the U.S. to collaborate virtually, rather than trying to gather in-person. It also may help you attract high-demand speakers who don’t have the time to commit to an in-person conference, but are happy to share industry takeaways via a quick video call or pre-recorded presentation. Additionally, a virtual conference enables you to create a product — recordings from your conference — that you can continue to share and use as a lead generation tool for months and years after the initial live launch. And, finally, there’s the obvious: sometimes unforeseen circumstances can make in-person conferences in certain locations simply impossible. Emily Raleigh, HubSpot’s Marketing Manager of Brand and Strategic Partnerships, provides some advice if you suddenly find yourself shifting your in-person event to a virtual one: “If you are shifting from a live event, try to add extra value to the viewers who are now tuning in online. Do an extra session. Offer more Q&A time. Give an extra special offer. Find creative ways to add extra delight moments.”

Additionally, Raleigh mentions, “Virtual events can easily lose one of the best benefits of live events: human connection. To mitigate that, keep the event engaging and get the audience involved.”

Now that we’ve explored a few benefits, let’s dive into tools that can help you create your own virtual conference. Virtual Conferencing Tools 1. Hopin Hopin is an all-in-one platform for planning virtual conferences, offering everything from a virtual reception to breakout sessions, a mainstage, and networking events. The networking tool is particularly helpful, with a timer you can set for each attendee to mingle with another for just a couple minutes before moving onto the next conversation (and, if the conversation goes exceptionally well, they can click “Connect” to receive contact information of the other attendee to follow-up later). Your event can include both webinars and live-streams, and a Live Chat function enables attendees to ask questions in real-time. Additionally, attendees can use virtual booths to promote their products or services, and offer discounts as well.

Image Source 2. Whova The Whova Event App has been a leader in attendee engagement and networking since 2014. For four years in a row, Whova has received both the Best Event App award and the People’s Choice Award from the Event Technology Awards. Event organizers can use Whova to help make virtual events highly interactive, fun, and productive before, during, and after the event. The tool directly integrates with live streaming and video hosting tools such as Zoom, Google Hangout, YouTube, Vimeo, etc. It also provides live Q&A, attendee networking, a discussion board, meeting-matches, a virtual exhibitor hall, and even virtual meet-ups. Many organizers provide access to the Whova app prior to their events to let attendees virtually socialize and discuss various topics, one-on-one or in virtual groups, making everyone feel more connected by the time the event comes around. Every attendee has a professional profile, allowing them to find others with whom they have common interests. The ice breaker and in-app chat, in particular, make it fun for strangers to get to know one another on a personal level and communicate with both new and old friends.

Image Source 3. Run The World Run The World is an all-in-one virtual conference platform with tools for livestream talks, discussions, and panels — additionally, Run The World ensures the social aspect of your virtual event is not lost, with a virtual “cocktail party” option, and an algorithm that matches attendees with other like-minded individuals based on questionnaires they fill out prior to the event. Run The World is accessible to a variety of small and large organizations, including non-profits, startup and enterprise businesses, and individual experts who’d like to host online workshops or bootcamps.

Image Source Alternatively, if you don’t have the budget for a virtual conferencing tool or simply don’t need much more than a simple video and mic, you might consider video call tools like Zoom, Google Hangouts, or ezTalks. Examples of Virtual Conferences 1. Game Developers Conference The 2020 Game Developers Conference (GDC) switched its in-person conferences to streaming recorded versions on the GDC Twitch channel. The conference will still have ceremonies for The Independent Games Festival (IGF) and Game Developers Choice Awards (GDCA), and will stream session content starting 9 AM PT daily, March 16-20. The GDC has a well-organized itinerary posted on their website, with breakout sessions led by influencers and experts in the Gaming industry. Additionally, you’re able to pause Live sessions if you’re interested in watching at a later time, and the GDC has included “Recommended Channels” with headcounts on the left side of the screen. With some sessions evoking over 30,000 viewers, it’s safe to say the GDC has successfully launched a virtual version of their initially in-person event. 2. HubSpot’s Partner Day On April 7-8, HubSpot will launch its own virtual Partner Day. The Partner team will use Zoom, a popular video conferencing tool, and will send each presenter a “video kit” with a mic, camera, lighting, and backdrop, so that participants can experience an optimal viewing experience from each of the day’s virtual speakers. Additionally, attendees can use Zoom to network with other partners. I spoke with Arden Brust, a Manager on HubSpot’s Partner Marketing team, to learn about some challenges you might experience when planning a virtual experience of your own. Brust told me: “When planning a virtual event, it’s critical you remain flexible and open-minded. With a virtual event, you run the risk of technology issues, as well as scheduling issues you might not have considered if you had everyone in-person (including timezone issues). To combat this, continue to iterate with your team and plan on pivoting — don’t get too attached to plan A that you don’t consider how plan B might work out better.” 3. How I Built This, by Women In Product With the help of the Run The World virtual conferencing tool, the non-profit organization Women In Product launched an entirely virtual event March 7-8, 2020. The Women In Product conference included participants from China, India, Canada, and Silicon Valley. The conference featured 10 speakers who’ve built successful products — including the Director of Product at GoDaddy, a PayPal Product Lead, and a Senior Product Manager at Ebay. The virtual event included fireside chats, keynote speakers, and networking events that enabled women to hear about the challenges and successes of product launches in different markets. 4. Webinar Mastery Summit Jon Schumacher had hosted webinars online for a while with minimal results when he launched the Webinar Mastery Summit, a virtual conference for people who wanted to advance their webinar skills. His first virtual summit featured 25 experts, and generated 7,000 new email subscribers and over $55,000 in revenue with his All-Access Pass sales. With All-Access, his participants receive lifetime access to 17 expert video sessions, full MP3 recordings of all sessions, three months of course creation software, and access to a private community for additional networking. Ultimately, with virtual conferences, you’re able to create recorded packaged content for future lead generation and sales even after the initial live launch — something in-person conferences, for all its networking benefits, is unable to do. 5. HubSpot User Groups (HUGs) Meghann Keogh, a HubSpot Marketing Manager in charge of HubSpot User Groups and Events, has experienced circumstances in which she found it necessary to cancel in-person events and create virtual ones, instead. Keogh told me she’s hosted virtual HUGs events for San Fransisco, NYC, Berlin, London, Helsinki, Paris, Bogota & Mexico City. Additionally, she’s created virtual fireside chats, including an upcoming one with CEO & Co-Founder Brian Halligan & Christian Kinnear, VP of Sales & Managing Director EMEA. When asked how to run a successful virtual event, Keogh told me — “Whether in-person or virtually, people are hungry to connect. The feedback we have received so far has been extremely positive. It’s not just cities that are connecting, it’s countries.”

“What’s made our virtual events a success so far? Our amazing speakers who inspire, educate, and innovate our HUG communities.”

Keogh adds, “We’re committed to bringing relevant content to our HUGs, whether that’s in-person or virtually. We want to make sure our communities still have that chance to engage with one another, and we’re devoted to making that happen.”

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