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faraway-wanderer · 4 years

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BOOKS BY ASIAN AUTHORS MASTERLIST #stopasianhate

In light of recent events and the growing anti- Asian hate in the US and UK over the course of the pandemic I wanted to put together a masterlist of books by Asian authors. Obviously, it’s not extensive and there are HUNDREDS out there, but supporting art by Asian creators is a way of showing support; read their stories, educate ourselves. It goes without saying that we should all be putting effort into reading stories of POC and by POC because even through fiction we’re learning about different cultures, countries and heritages. So here’s some books to start with by Asian authors!

Here is a link also for resources to educate and petitions to sign (especially if you don’t read haha). It’s important that we educate ourselves and uplift Asian voices right now. Your anti-racism has to include every minority that faces it.

https://anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co/

for UK peeps, this is a good read: We may not hear about the anti Asian racism happening here, but it is definitely happening. https://www.harpersbazaar.com/uk/culture/culture-news/a35692226/its-time-we-stopped-downplaying-the-uks-anti-asian-racism/

THE BOOKS:

· War Cross- Marie Lu ( the worldbuilding in this is IMMENSE.)

For the millions who log in every day, Warcross isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life. The obsession started ten years ago and its fan base now spans the globe, some eager to escape from reality and others hoping to make a profit.

· Star Daughter- Shveta Thakrar

A beautiful story about a girl who is half human and half star, and she must go to the celestial court to try to save her father after he has fallen ill. And before she knows it, she is taking part in a magical competition that she must win!

· These Violent Delights- Chloe Gong (I told my little sister to read this book yesterday bc she has a thing for a Leo as Romeo- so if you want deadly good looking Romeos, badass Juliet’s and to learn about 1920s Shanghai- this is for you.)

The year is 1926, and Shanghai hums to the tune of debauchery. A blood feud between two gangs runs the streets red, leaving the city helpless in the grip of chaos. A Romeo and Juliet retelling.

· The Poppy War- R.F Kuang (My fave fantasy series just fyi- it’s soul crushing in the best way. Rebecca Kuang is a god of an author).

A brilliantly imaginative talent makes her exciting debut with this epic historical military fantasy, inspired by the bloody history of China’s twentieth century and filled with treachery and magic, in the tradition of Ken Liu’s Grace of Kings and N.K. Jemisin’s Inheritance Trilogy.

· Loveboat Taipei- Abigail Hing Wen (Really heartwarming and insightful!)

When eighteen-year-old Ever Wong’s parents send her from Ohio to Taiwan to study Mandarin for the summer, she finds herself thrust among the very over-achieving kids her parents have always wanted her to be, including Rick Woo, the Yale-bound prodigy profiled in the Chinese newspapers since they were nine—and her parents’ yardstick for her never-measuring-up life.

· Sorcerer to the Crown- Zen Cho (if anyone is looking for another Howl’s Moving Castle, look no further than this book)

At his wit’s end, Zacharias Wythe, freed slave, eminently proficient magician, and Sorcerer Royal of the Unnatural Philosophers—one of the most respected organizations throughout all of Britain—ventures to the border of Fairyland to discover why England’s magical stocks are drying up.

· Emergency Contact- Mary H.K. Choi (very wholesome and fun rom-com!)

For Penny Lee high school was a total nonevent. When she heads to college in Austin, Texas, to learn how to become a writer, it’s seventy-nine miles and a zillion light years away from everything she can’t wait to leave behind.

· Jade City- Fonda Lee (I am reading this currently and can I just say- I think everyone who loves fantasy and blood feuds in a story should read this.)

JADE CITY is a gripping Godfather-esque saga of intergenerational blood feuds, vicious politics, magic, and kungfu. The Kaul family is one of two crime syndicates that control the island of Kekon. It's the only place in the world that produces rare magical jade, which grants those with the right training and heritage superhuman abilities.

· A Pho Love Story- Loan Le

When Dimple Met Rishi meets Ugly Delicious in this funny, smart romantic comedy, in which two Vietnamese-American teens fall in love and must navigate their newfound relationship amid their families’ age-old feud about their competing, neighbouring restaurants.

· Rebelwing- Andrea Tang

Business is booming for Prudence Wu. A black-market-media smuggler and scholarship student at the prestigious New Columbia Preparatory Academy, Pru is lucky to live in the Barricade Coalition where she is free to study, read, watch, and listen to whatever she wants.

· Wings of the Locust- Joel Donato Ching Jacob

Tuan escapes his mundane and mediocre existence when he is apprenticed to Muhen, a charming barangay wiseman. But, as he delves deeper into the craft of a mambabarang and its applications in espionage, sabotage and assassination, the young apprentice is overcome by conflicting emotions that cause him to question his new life.

· The Travelling Cat Chronicles- Hiro Arikawa

Sometimes you have to leave behind everything you know to find the place you truly belong...

Nana the cat is on a road trip. He is not sure where he's going or why, but it means that he gets to sit in the front seat of a silver van with his beloved owner, Satoru.

· Super Fake Love Song- David Yoon

From the bestselling author of Frankly in Love comes a contemporary YA rom-com where a case of mistaken identity kicks off a string of (fake) events that just may lead to (real) love.

· Parachutes- Kelly Yang

Speak enters the world of Gossip Girl in this modern immigrant story from New York Times bestselling author Kelly Yang about two girls navigating wealth, power, friendship, and trauma.

· The Grace of Kings- Ken Liu ( One of the Time 100 Best Fantasy Books Of All Time!)

Two men rebel together against tyranny—and then become rivals—in this first sweeping book of an epic fantasy series from Ken Liu, recipient of Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy awards.

· Wicked Fox- Kat Cho

A fresh and addictive fantasy-romance set in modern-day Seoul.

· Descendant of the Crane- Joan He

In this shimmering Chinese-inspired fantasy, debut author Joan He introduces a determined and vulnerable young heroine struggling to do right in a world brimming with deception.

· Pachinko- Min Jin Lee

Richly told and profoundly moving, Pachinko is a story of love, sacrifice, ambition, and loyalty. From bustling street markets to the halls of Japan's finest universities to the pachinko parlors of the criminal underworld, Lee's complex and passionate characters--strong, stubborn women, devoted sisters and sons, fathers shaken by moral crisis--survive and thrive against the indifferent arc of history.

· America is in the Heart- Carlos Bulosan

First published in 1946, this autobiography of the well known Filipino poet describes his boyhood in the Philippines, his voyage to America, and his years of hardship and despair as an itinerant laborer following the harvest trail in the rural West.

· Days of Distraction- Alexandra Chang

A wry, tender portrait of a young woman — finally free to decide her own path, but unsure if she knows herself well enough to choose wisely—from a captivating new literary voice.

· The Astonishing Colour of After Emily X.R Pan

Alternating between real and magic, past and present, friendship and romance, hope and despair, The Astonishing Color of After is a novel about finding oneself through family history, art, grief, and love.

· The Gilded Wolves- Roshani Chokshi

It's 1889. The city is on the cusp of industry and power, and the Exposition Universelle has breathed new life into the streets and dredged up ancient secrets. Here, no one keeps tabs on dark truths better than treasure-hunter and wealthy hotelier Séverin Montagnet-Alarie. When the elite, ever-powerful Order of Babel coerces him to help them on a mission, Séverin is offered a treasure that he never imagined: his true inheritance.

· When Dimple met Rishi- Sandhya Menon

Dimple and Rishi may think they have each other figured out. But when opposites clash, love works hard to prove itself in the most unexpected ways.

· On Earth we’re briefly Gorgeous- Ocean Vuong

Poet Ocean Vuong's debut novel is a shattering portrait of a family, a first love, and the redemptive power of storytelling.

· Fierce Fairytales- Nikita Gill

Complete with beautifully hand-drawn illustrations by Gill herself, Fierce Fairytales is an empowering collection of poems and stories for a new generation.

BOOKS BEING RELEASED LATER THIS YEAR TO PREORDER:

· Counting down with you- Tashie Bhuiyan- 4th May

A reserved Bangladeshi teenager has twenty-eight days to make the biggest decision of her life after agreeing to fake date her school’s resident bad boy.

How do you make one month last a lifetime?

· Gearbreakers- Zoe Hana Mikuta- June 29th

Two girls on opposite sides of a war discover they're fighting for a common purpose--and falling for each other--in Zoe Hana Mikuta's high-octane debut Gearbreakers, perfect for fans of Pacific Rim, Pierce Brown's Red Rising Saga, and Marie Lu's Legend series

· XOXO- Axie Oh- 13th July

When a relationship means throwing Jenny’s life off the path she’s spent years mapping out, she’ll have to decide once and for all just how much she’s willing to risk for love.

· She who became the sun- Shelley Parker-Chan- 20th July

Mulan meets The Song of Achilles in Shelley Parker-Chan's She Who Became the Sun, a bold, queer, and lyrical reimagining of the rise of the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty from an amazing new voice in literary fantasy.

· Jade Fire Gold- June C.L Tan- October 12th

Keep sharing, signing petitions and donating where you can. The more people who are actively anti-racist, the better. And if your anti-racism doesn’t include the Asian community then go and educate yourself! BLM wasn’t a trend and neither is this. We have to stand up against white supremacy, and racism and stereotypes and we have to support the communities that need our support. Part of that can include cultivating your reading so you’re reading more diversely and challenging any stereotypes western society may have given you.

Feel free to reblog and add any more recommendations and resources of course!

#stopasianhate #books by asian authors #anti racism #i'm so sickened by everything that's happening and i hope that this list does encourage people to read books by asian authors!!!#ya #poc authors #fiction #i haven't all of these yet #asian writers #asian authors #masterlist #antiasianracism

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filmmakerdreamst · 4 years

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‘Boy Meets World’ Re-watch (as an Adult)

‘Girl Meets World’ doesn’t count as a sequel. Not because of the writing/tonal choices but because in the original show - despite continuity issues - the characters felt like real people e.g. the way they spoke/acted/dressed was the way people behaved in the 90s where as in the spin off, they were Disney characters e.g. hyper versions of themselves especially Cory and Eric. And the transition between both shows didn’t come naturally. It’s not an objectivity badly written show but it was pretty much a re-do of the old show with the same storylines/tropes without continuing the story. (I say the same thing about ‘The Incredibles’. vs ‘Incredibles 2’.) Also there were too many cooks in the kitchen pushing one way or another. You could see Micheal Jacobs style, all the aspects were there, but he was also creating a ‘DISNEY’ show at the same time. I don’t know about you but the one message I took from the original show was ‘finding out that life cannot be packenged into a lovely little present ’ which kind of contradicts everything that the new show is. If anything GMW is an AU universe (and it really felt like that, rewatching it right after BMW e.g. it felt flipped) almost like Disney’s version of ‘what happened next?’ The primal difference between both shows is BMW is portraying what is real and GMW is based on what is real.

Going off my point, I will however be always thankful that it exists because I probably wouldn’t of found out about ‘Boy Meets World’ otherwise. Although saying that, I never thought that the original show needed a continuation of any kind (a lot of things make sense about the spin off if you acknowledge that Disney requested it - I think it would of been much better off on its original platform) ‘Boy Meets World’ was very much a product of its time i.e. when tv shows were still relevetivley new and had no rules - like there is stuff in there that not even adult shows today have. Plus there was something about it that felt very personal (such as the characters and setting) as if the creator based it on his own childhood growing up and I think that was part of its charm and why it had such a big effect on pop culture - I’m not so sure you can repeat that.

BMW is big on meta I’ll tell you that. I love how it’s so aware of itself. The amount of depth that it has never ceases to amaze me. It’s whole universe is so dense and huge. Every quote/storyline is so unique it sticks in your brain forever. (I swear the humour got more and more deranged every season). The show was also incredibly queer and progressive. It didn’t give a crap about sexuality. Much more than I remember. Proof to never use ‘but it was made in the 90s’ excuse.

I loved how the show kept reinventing itself every season as Cory grew up so you really felt you were growing up with him and all the characters. The Character Development on this show was so natural/authentic. Every single character got a chance to shine. No one changed their look in one episode and no one had an intervention every time someone had an identity crisis (GMW) My favourite development was Shawn Hunter. He went from a cool kid to a ladies man to a poetic soul. It was so satisfying to watch.

I realised that Cory Matthews is actually my favourite character (before it was Eric or Shawn) I already have a special soft spot for ‘annoying’ characters because they tend to be the most memorable/real. For example, Karma Ashcroft from ‘Faking it’ was my babe while everyone was hating on her. I really related to his anxiety/self hatred about being average and I loved that he constantly made mistakes. It was very refreshing. He’s also incredibly queer-coded. I found that alot of his mannerisms make sense if you see him with extreme compulsory heterosexuality (because identity’s such as bisexual or gay couldn’t exist normally in the 90s) There are moments in the show where he literally mimics his best friend’s behaviour around girls e.g. when the class pretty much gets brainwashed by the sex ed video in ‘Boy Meets Girl’ Shawn gets asked out by a girl, making Cory jealous - which pushes him to ask out Topanga.

It’s funny how a few years of life experience can change perspectives completely because when I was sixteen (aka the same age as Cory and Topanga) watching BMW for the first time, I was mad at Amy for ‘not understanding that they were in love’ (in ‘A Walk to Pittsburg’) but now that I’m older I’m actually agreeing with her. Yeah, what do they know about love? Because all season long they were acting quite superficially.

Cory and Topanga became somewhat of a toxic couple in seasons 5 -7. Reminded me of my parents relationship because my mum gave up her chosen university to be closer to my dad and they aren’t together any more. Topanga’s love for Cory was very conditional and Cory cheated on her multiple times/openly begged for sex (Again like my parents) And you should never be in a relationship with someone who makes you say “You make me think not so very much of myself” There are arguably much more signs of emotional abuse than love in their relationship especially from Topanga’s side. Plus their story was altered so many times to give it more basis (they retconned Shawn and Cory’s friendship to do this) I could write an essay on how Kevin and Winnie’s love story on ‘The Wonder Years’ is much more believable because it actually addresses how toxic it was and they grow apart in the end. If GMW was a realistic continuation, they would be divorced with a little girl - leave them in the 90s where they belong.

Alan and Amy were couple goals! Cory and Topanga wish that they could have what they have. Literally the definition of ‘a healthy relationship on tv that keeps thriving and over coming obstacles without big drama’. Best TV parents ever.

I loved the Matthews family; how they all had individual arcs and developments of their own. One of my favourite arcs was in season 5, when Eric and Cory were both jealous of what they ‘didn’t have’ with their dad, so Alan made an effort to give them both that they needed. Honestly, I had never seen so much healthy communication on TV before. Alan is the best father around. His whole personal arc of giving up managing a supermarket because he wasn’t passsionate about it anymore and buying a mountain store was so inspired. I found it funny that the family had more of a relationship with Shawn than Topanga.

Shawn Hunter never caught a break. It got a bit tiring. He was never allowed to be happy for five minutes. Every time he laughed or smiled, 5 years were added onto my lifespan. Why didn’t Johnathan Turner adopt him? I loved their dynamic. Why did he let him go back to his abusive father who just dumped him anyway?

Jack and Shawn’s complicated dynamic was possibly the most unique/interesting arc of the entire show and no one talks about it. I don’t care what y’all say - despite them being very different, Jack was the only one who fully took care of Shawn without second thoughts (Turner and the Matthews family had doubts)

I liked Shawn and Angela. I thought they were much better suited than Cory and Topanga. I honestly wouldn’t of minded if they ended up together even though I always had a feeling they wouldn’t. (Like I’m glad she went with her dad in the end) And considering how important they were as a interracial couple in the 90s, GMW handled that very poorly.

Shawn and Cory should of ended up together. And before you come at me with ‘it’s important to have m/m friendships without toxic masculinity’ (which is an important arguement to have) - yeah no shit there’s an entire Industry based around that/pitting women against each other. While it is important to have those friendships between men that are close and even intimate (take Chandler and Joey, Schmidt and Nick, Isak and Jonas and Jake and Charles for example) there was also another layer to their relationship which the narrative played off sometimes as them “going out” or “in love”. I actually recently found out that a writer - who came into the show in season 3 - confirmed that she wrote gay undertones into their relationship on purpose ‘In my opinion as a writer, they thought they were “straight”, they both didn’t realise or understand their feelings for eachother’ but couldn’t deliever because the producers wanted to keep the show “kid friendly”. Kind of like Xena and Gabby. I know people prefer Jack & Eric (I love them as well) but everything got ruined for me as soon as they introduced the ‘love triangle’ and I always tend to prefer emotional tension over sexual. They were just so unconditional with each other/ their friendship was so good and healthy and now I’m so bitter that it never happened.

I never understood why Shawn and Cory had to stop being best friends after he got married. He’s not Topanga’s property. I always hated how Topanga tried to interrupt/interfere with their dynamic — although now I realise it was because the two of them purposely left her out. Looking back at it, If it really was just a intimate friendship then why would she get so easily jealous if she didn’t sense there was something else deeper going on? You should never marry someone who puts you second.

I didn’t like Topanga when she was with Cory (or vice versa) Especially after they got married. She was a great character on her own. Feminist before her time. Hermione Granger before her time. I always felt she deserved a lot better than him in a way e.g. if someone I considered a friend speard a rumour around high school that we slept together - I would never speak to that person again. SHE SHOULD OF GONE TO YALE GOD DAMN IT. And as someone pointed out the other day, if the roles were reversed some of the stuff she does or says to Cory would be considered domestic violence. ‘She’s always blaming Cory on shit that isn't even his fault or makes him feel bad or shuts down his emotions and turns it around so he's comforting her instead.’ There was even a moment in GMW (not that I consider that show a continuation) where she locks him out the house for a few days after he insulted her chicken, and his son Auggie had to bring him spaghetti. If Cory was a woman, that would not be played off as a joke - that would be considered abuse. They were however a better couple in GMW ironically.

Angela Moore is now one of my favourite characters on BMW. She was beautiful. Her friendship with Rachel (and Topanga) was the best. And I frickin’ loved her and Cory’s friendship development - when they could of easily not played into that. I hate that she got villiaized in GMW.

My favourite seasons are 4, 5 & 1. My least favourites are 3 & 2 & 7. And even then the show was still pretty darn good.

The back and fourth clash between Turner and Mr Feeny in season 2 was very entertaining.

Mr Feeny and Eric are my favourite relationship on ‘Boy Meets World’. I love how Eric was the only person that Feeny directly told that he loved him. Also, why didn’t Eric become the new Mr Feeny? He showed more traits of becoming a teacher in the show than Cory did.

Eric and Tommy was probably the most heartbreaking plot line in season 6. (That season was an emotional train wreck) I cried for a fourth time. The world doesn’t deserve him.

I loved the development of Shawn and Topanga’s friendship. Even though there was a silent competition over Cory, they eventually became good friends. I found out that the song ‘She will be loved’ was inspired by them which is awesome but it’s also proof that people ship for less if it’s an m/f dynamic - just sayin’. I however see a more convincing potiental romance with the two of them than Cory and Topanga sometimes.

On Cory and Topanga again - they weren’t a bad couple overall. I liked them in s1 - 3. They had some great moments. But upon my rewatch (getting out of that 90s idealised headspace) I found them to be too similar at times - chafing as another person put it - to the point where they cancel each other out. A lot of people pointed out that Riley and Maya paralleled them and I was thinking “That’s not nesserily a good thing.”

‘Dream. Try. Do good.’ is on my mantelpiece.

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 4 years

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She-who-fights-and-writes Coronacation Book Rec List

I know that a lot of people are stuck at home right now in dire need of entertainment, so I decided I’d put out a book recommendations list of all the books I’m currently reading and all of my must-reads!

(Just a note that a lot of these are Fantasy because I’m a fantasy nerd haha)

Books/Series I am currently reading

1. The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black (Currently on #2, The Wicked King)

Genre: High Fantasy

Setting: The land of Faerie which is kind of historical, but in the human world it is modern day

Main cast :

Jude Duarte (white, human, cutthroat, if I saw her in a Denny’s Parking Lot at 3am I would RUN)

Cardan Greenbriar (white, faerie, the true embodiment of Bastard)

Vivienne (Jude’s half-sister, lesbian with canon gf, half-human half-faerie, I would totally try to be her friend)

Taryn Duarte (Jude’s twin sister, queen doormat, still, I would take a bullet for her she’s jUST TRYING TO FIT IN)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

These books have been on my “To Read” list for so long now and for some reason I just never got around to reading them! Hands-down, these are some of the best high fantasy books that I’ve read in a long, long while.

I finished the first book, The Cruel Prince, in just two days and rated it 5/5 stars! Even though these books are high fantasy and focus on the traditions and ways of life of faeries, somehow all of the characters seem like I could meet them in real life!

The main character actually has genuine flaws and not just “””“flaws”””” and is a Bad Bitch down with murder, and the plot had me on the edge of my seat from page one!

The summary makes it sound like it’s going to be about their romance, but it’s really mostly about a power struggle and Jude being a badass.

Goodreads summary for The Cruel Prince:

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

2. The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater (Currently on #1, The Raven Boys)

Genre: Present-Day/Realistic Fantasy (?)

Setting: The fictional town of Henrietta, Virginia

I haven’t gotten around to much of the book, so there’s not much I can tell you about the characters and I can’t properly give it a rating yet.

These books were also on my “To Read” list for a while; I was a huge fan of her book The Scorpio Races and have also been looking for something to quench my thirst for “private school/ghosts/magic” that I’ve been dealing with ever since I read The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo.

I’ve only JUST started The Raven Cycle yesterday, but so far I am hooked! I’m super worried because I’m TERRIBLE at juggling two series at a time but both of these are just so interesting!

Goodreads Summary for The Raven Boys:

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.” It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive. Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble. But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little. For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

MY MUST-READ BOOK LIST

1. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: Historical Fiction

Setting: 1700s Europe (England, Paris, Barcelona, Marseilles, Venice)

Main cast (I’ll try my best not to spoil anything because you find out a LOT of different stuff about these characters throughout the book):

Henry “Monty” Montague (white, bi/pansexual, attitude problem)

Percy Newton (mixed race, gay, very sweet boy, definitely got “most likely to bring home to mom” in the yearbook)

Felicity Montague (white, Monty’s little sister, headcanoned as asexual, I love her to death)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Daring adventure, gay representation, historical setting, hilarious characters!

This book literally has it all! I would consider it one of my favorite books of all time, yet for some reason I’ve never gotten around to reading any of the sequel books! The ending is very satisfying and ties everything together, which I feel is part of the reason why I haven’t gotten around to them yet.

Therefore, it can serve as a one-shot read or a full series if you want to dive into something good!

The humor made me laugh out loud at points and all of the characters are very real and very, very relatable, not to mention the vivid settings of 1700s Europe!

Goodreads summary:

Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn’t in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

2. The Ninth House By Leigh Bardugo

Genre: Horror, Fantasy

Setting: Yale University and the town of New Haven, Present Day

Main cast:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern (Hispanic, sees dead people, very scary)

Daniel Arlington “Darlington” (white, rich, an angel who can sometimes be a dick)

Pamela Dawes (tbh I honestly don’t remember what she looks like, only that she’s a tired grad student with big nerd energy)

Detective Alan Turner (Black, takes shit from nobody, husband material)

Rating: 4/5 Stars

(NOTE: THIS IS VERY DARK ADULT FICTION AND CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FOR PEOPLE UNDER 16)

This book is a great read for someone who’s looking for a disturbing, gritty book with layers upon layers of secrets that you have to peel away as the mystery unfolds. I love the secret societies and the intricate magic systems that the book introduces, and it actually made me hungry for more books like it!

Alex is a three-dimensional, very real character who also serves as an unreliable narrator who witholds or warps the information that she’s telling you, making the narrative all the more riveting.

The only issues that I have with it are the fact that Leigh Bardugo kind of just dumps you in the middle of it without explaining stuff first, to the point where it kind of feels like you’re reading the second installment of a series rather than the first one, so things can get a bit confusing at first.

The book also can drag and draw things out for a bit too long, but once the plot fully kicks into gear, you will not be able to put it down!

Goodreads summary:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her? Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

3. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Setting: Earth, Space, The Moon

Main cast :

Linh Cinder (Chinese, based on Cinderella, cyborg, certified badass)

Scarlet Benoit (French, based on Little Red Riding Hood, farmer who is not afraid to shoot you)

Cress Darnel (White, based on Rapunzel, nerd, I will protect her with my life if I have to)

Kaito “Kai” (Chinese, based on Prince Charming, kind of has to run a whole country, a very kind soul, deserves a nap)

Carswell Thorne (White, based off of Rapunzel’s Prince, bastard)

Winter Hayle (Black, based off of Snow White, royalty, has super special powers)

Wolf (Race unspecified, based off of the Big Bad Wolf, charming killing machine, furry????)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Do you like fairy tales?

Have you ever wanted to know what fairy tales would be like if they took place in the FUTURE instead of the PAST?

Do you like an amazing, hilarious cast paired with a super interesting plot?

These are the books for you!

I haven’t read them in so long, but I remember how much joy I felt while devouring these pages. Definitely something you will not able to put down!

Goodreads Summary for Book #1: Cinder:

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

4. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: Fantasy

Setting: Ancient Greece

Main cast:

Patroclus (Greek, Gay, quiet pining)

Achilles (Greek, gay, very strong, student athlete energy)

Brisies (Anatolian, clever, literally the only one in this story who has a brain cell)

Rating: 100000/5 stars

This is basically the Iliad but if historians hadn’t completely erased Patroclus and Achilles’ relationship. “Haha yeah these guys were totally bros” they say, even though I have read the Iliad and their relationship isn’t even subtle.

This book made me cry at least ten times. It’s just so beautifully written and has such a distinct vibe to it that whenever I crack it open for another time, it takes me straight back to the vacation that I read it on. (Needless to say, sobbing your eyes out can be less than helpful when you’re on the beach)

If you can only read one book on this list, it should be this one. I could talk all day about it and write novels on just how much of an incredible writer Madeline Miller is, but I feel like you’d get my drift a bit better if you actually read the book.

Goodreads Summary:

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear. Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

Hope this list helps you through your coronacation, and please don’t be afraid to reblog or message me to tell me if you’ve read/will read any of these!

#books #book recs #book rec #book reccomendation #book reccomendations #coronacation #corona #coronavirus #covid-19 #book rec list

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lastsonlost · 4 years

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With the coronavirus pandemic surging and initial vaccine supplies limited, the United States faces a hard choice: Should the country’s immunization program focus in the early months on the elderly and people with serious medical conditions, who are dying of the virus at the highest rates, or on essential workers, an expansive category encompassing Americans who have borne the greatest risk of infection?

Health care workers and the frailest of the elderly — residents of long-term-care facilities — will almost certainly get the first shots, under guidelines the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention issued on Thursday. But with vaccination expected to start this month, the debate among federal and state health officials about who goes next, and lobbying from outside groups to be included, is growing more urgent.

It’s a question increasingly guided by concerns over the inequities laid bare by the pandemic, from disproportionately high rates of infection and death among poor people and people of color to disparate access to testing, child care and technology for online schooling.

“It’s damnable that we are even being placed in this position that we have to make these choices,” said the Rev. William J. Barber II, a co-chairman of the Poor People’s Campaign, a national coalition that calls attention to the challenges of the working poor. “But if we have to make the choice, we cannot once again leave poor and low-wealth essential workers to be last.”

Ultimately, the choice comes down to whether preventing death or curbing the spread of the virus and returning to some semblance of normalcy is the highest priority. “If your goal is to maximize the preservation of human life, then you would bias the vaccine toward older Americans,” Dr. Scott Gottlieb, the former Food and Drug Administration commissioner, said recently. “If your goal is to reduce the rate of infection, then you would prioritize essential workers. So it depends what impact you’re trying to achieve.”

The trade-off between the two is muddied by the fact that the definition of “essential workers” used by the C.D.C. comprises nearly 70 percent of the American work force, sweeping in not just grocery store clerks and emergency responders, but tugboat operators, exterminators and nuclear energy workers. Some labor economists and public health officials consider the category overbroad and say it should be narrowed to only those who interact in person with the public.

An independent committee of medical experts that advises the C.D.C. on immunization practices will soon vote on whom to recommend for the second phase of vaccination — “Phase 1b.” In a meeting last month, all voting members of the committee indicated support for putting essential workers ahead of people 65 and older and those with high-risk health conditions.

Historically, the committee relied on scientific evidence to inform its decisions. But now the members are weighing social justice concerns as well, noted Lisa A. Prosser, a professor of health policy and decision sciences at the University of Michigan.

“To me the issue of ethics is very significant, very important for this country,” Dr. Peter Szilagyi, a committee member and a pediatrics professor at the University of California, Los Angeles, said at the time, “and clearly favors the essential worker group because of the high proportion of minority, low-income and low-education workers among essential workers.”

That position runs counter to frameworks proposed by the World Health Organization, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, and many countries, which say that reducing deaths should be the unequivocal priority and that older and sicker people should thus go before the workers, a view shared by many in public health and medicine.

Dr. Robert Redfield, the C.D.C. director and the nation’s top public health official, reminded the advisory committee of the importance of older people, saying in a statement on Thursday that he looked forward to “future recommendations that, based on vaccine availability, demonstrate that we as a nation also prioritize the elderly.”

Once the committee votes, Dr. Redfield will decide whether to accept its recommendations as the official guidance of the agency. Only rarely does a C.D.C. director reject a recommendation from the committee, whose 14 members are selected by the Health and Human Services secretary, serve four-and-a-half-year terms and have never confronted a task as high in profile as this one.

But ultimately, the decision will be up to governors and state and local health officials. They are not required to follow C.D.C. guidelines, though historically they have done so.

There are about 90 million essential workers nationwide, as defined by a division of the Department of Homeland Security that compiled a roster of jobs that help maintain critical infrastructure during a pandemic. That list is long, and because there won’t be enough doses to reach everyone at first, states are preparing to make tough decisions: Louisiana’s preliminary plan, for example, puts prison guards and food processing workers ahead of teachers and grocery employees. Nevada’s prioritizes education and public transit workers over those in retail and food processing.

At this early point, many state plans put at least some people who are older and live independently, or people who have medical conditions, ahead of most essential workers, though that could change after the C.D.C. committee makes a formal recommendation on the next phase.

One occupation whose priority is being hotly debated is teaching. The C.D.C. includes educators as essential workers. But not everyone agrees with that designation.

Marc Lipsitch, an infectious-disease epidemiologist at Harvard’s T.H. Chan School of Public Health, argued that teachers should not be included as essential workers, if a central goal of the committee is to reduce health inequities.

“Teachers have middle-class salaries, are very often white, and they have college degrees,” he said. “Of course they should be treated better, but they are not among the most mistreated of workers.”

Elise Gould, a senior economist at the Economic Policy Institute, disagreed. Teachers not only ensure that children don’t fall further behind in their education, she said, but are also critical to the work force at large.

“When you talk about disproportionate impact and you’re concerned about people getting back into the labor force, many are mothers, and they will have a harder time if their children don’t have a reliable place to go,” she said. “And if you think generally about people who have jobs where they can’t telework, they are disproportionately Black and brown. They’ll have more of a challenge when child care is an issue.”

In September, academic researchers analyzed the Department of Homeland Security’s list of essential workers and found that it broadly mirrored the demographics of the American labor force. The researchers proposed a narrower, more vulnerable category — “frontline workers,” such as food deliverers, cashiers and emergency medical technicians, who must work face to face with others and are thus at greater risk of contracting the virus.

By this definition, said Francine D. Blau, a labor economist at Cornell University and an author of the study, teachers belong in the larger category of essential workers. However, when they work in classrooms rather than remotely, she said, they would fit into the “frontline” group. Individual states categorize teachers differently.

Dr. Blau said that if supplies are short, frontline workers should be emphasized. “These are a subset of essential workers who, given the nature of their jobs, must provide their labor in person. Prioritizing them makes sense given the heightened risk that they face.”

The analysis, a working paper for the National Bureau of Economic Research, is in line with other critics, who say that the list of essential workers is too wide-ranging.

“If groups are too large, then you’re not really focusing on priorities,” said Saad B. Omer, director of the Yale Institute for Global Health, who worked on the vaccination frameworks for the W.H.O. and the National Academies.

The essential workers on the federal list make up nearly 70 percent of the American labor force, the researchers said, compared with 42 percent for the frontline workers. Women made up 39 percent of frontline workers and, in certain occupations, far more. Frontline workers’ education levels are lower, as are their wages — on average, just under $22 an hour. The proportion of Black and Hispanic workers is higher than in the broader category of essential workers.

Some health policy experts said that to prioritize preventing deaths rather than reducing virus transmission was simply a pragmatic choice, because there won’t be enough vaccine initially available to make a meaningful dent in contagion. A more effective use of limited quantities, they say, is to save the lives of the most frail.

Moreover, vaccine trial results so far show only that the shots can protect the individuals who receive them. The trials have not yet demonstrated that a vaccinated person would not infect others. Though scientists believe that is likely to be the case, it has yet to be proved.

Harald Schmidt, an expert in ethics and health policy at the University of Pennsylvania, said that it is reasonable to put essential workers ahead of older adults, given their risks, and that they are disproportionately minorities. “Older populations are whiter, ” Dr. Schmidt said. “Society is structured in a way that enables them to live longer. Instead of giving additional health benefits to those who already had more of them, we can start to level the playing field a bit.”

But to protect older people more at risk, he called on the C.D.C. committee to also integrate the agency’s own “social vulnerability index.”

The index includes 15 measures derived from the census, such as overcrowded housing, lack of vehicle access and poverty, to determine how urgently a community needs health support, with the goal of reducing inequities.

In a new analysis of the states’ preliminary vaccine plans, Dr. Schmidt found that at least 18 states intended to apply the index. Tennessee, for one, has indicated that it will reserve some of its early allotments for disadvantaged communities.

Still, some people believe it is wrong to give racial and socioeconomic equity more weight than who is most likely to die.

“They need to have bombproof, fact-based, public-health-based reasons for why one group goes ahead of another,” said Chuck Ludlam, a former Senate aide and biotech industry lobbyist who protested putting essential workers ahead of older people in comments to the committee. “They have provided no explanation here that will withstand public scrutiny.”

Further complicating matters, the different priority groups discussed by the C.D.C. committee are overlapping — many essential workers have high-risk conditions, and some are older than 65. Some states have suggested that they will prioritize only essential workers who come face to face with the public, while others have not prioritized them at all.

Even some people whose allegiance lies with one group have made the case that others should have an earlier claim on the vaccine. Marc Perrone, president of the United Food and Commercial Workers Union, which represents 1.3 million grocery and food processing workers, said that despite the high rate of infection among his members, he thought that older adults should go first.

“Here’s the thing: Everybody’s got a grandmother or grandfather,” Mr. Perrone said. “And I do believe almost everybody in this country would want to protect them, or their aging parents.”

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mercuryonparklane · 3 years

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I just found this one-shot I wrote based on ‘betty’ that has been sitting in my notes since September. I thought I’d share, if anyone is interested in that. The characters belong to Taylor and her co-writers, of course. I just borrowed them for this fic.

‘Please, come over’

Jamie Mann stares at the text for far too long, watching those three little dots appear and, then, disappear once again. Betty hates sending more than one text in a row. Even more than that, she can't stand it when a message goes unanswered.

Still, Jamie can't quite think of what to say. Her mind flashes back to prom two weeks earlier and the boy who swayed Betty around the dance floor while she laughed at his stupid jokes. Betty told her that she isn't interested in boys, but damnit if she isn't very good at hiding that fact.

Jamie throws her phone down next to her on the bed and pulls the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. She fiddles with the strings of the sweatshirt until she hears the ding of a new message.

'I'm in front of your house. Get your ass out here and hop in.'

Jamie fights the smile on her face, but she can't help feeling a little less hurt in the moment. August was the kind of friend who could convince you to do things you would never even think to do. Like the time they hopped the fence at school on a Friday night to smoke in the softball dugout. Or the time August managed to sneak them into some gay club in the city. Or the time they almost ditched the cop trying to pull her over for running a red light. Okay, so maybe they weren't actually going to try to escape and maybe August's uncle happened to be the cop in question. But still...

Jamie grabs her backpack and puts it on as she heads down stairs.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"Mom, I literally just graduated high school last night and I turn 18 next month. I'm basically an adult."

Her mom pulls her into a hug. Jamie lets it happen for a few seconds before escaping her grasp. Mrs. Mann runs her fingers through her daughter's hair trying to fix it best she can.

"Hmm... that will have to do. Now, truthfully, where are you going? Yeah, yeah, I know you're all grown up now, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop worrying about you."

Jamie rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. "I'm staying over at August's. She's outside waiting for me, so can I go now?"

"Of course, dear. Have fun."

"Sure thing. Night, mom."

Jamie heads out the door and jogs to the midnight blue '67 Mustang idling in front of the driveway. She throws her backpack in the backseat before taking her spot in the passenger seat.

"So, what's the plan?"

"I was thinking we could go to that party Betty Davis is throwing."

A lump forms in Jamie's throat as she tries to come up with some excuse as to why they shouldn't go. August knows that Jamie is a lesbian, but she doesn't know anything about Betty. It was not something Betty wanted anyone to know about.

As far as anyone at school knew, Betty and Jamie were acquaintances at best. Betty was head cheerleader and Jamie was basically a skater burnout. Betty was class president and Jamie wasn't even on most of her teacher's radars. Betty was going to Yale next year. Jamie was going to a state school. Betty came from money. Jamie's mom worked two jobs to send her to private school. They weren’t exactly the likeliest of friends and no one would ever guess they were more than that.

"Come on, please? Don't you want to know what the popular kids get up to on the weekends?"

"Nah, it sounds pretty lame. I'd rather hang out just the two of us before you take your little road trip around the county, which I still can't believe your parents agreed to."

"You should come with me."

"What?"

"We would have so much fun. Besides I'm a little scared about driving around by myself."

Jamie scoffs, "You? Why, August Adams you are the bravest person I have ever known. What could possibly scare you?"

"I don't know... a car accident, rapists, serial killers, muggers, creatures..."

"Okay, I get it. I just mean... you've been planning this trip for two years. Wasn't it supposed to be some great big adventure of self-discovery?"

August shrugs. "I already know who I am. I'm a bisexual goddess, who is going to be the CEO of a major corporation someday, and no one can stop me. But also I'm just a girl sitting in front a girl, asking her to join me on the trip of a lifetime."

Jamie's heart skips a beat. She loves Betty so deeply, but being with her was torture. It would have been four more years of hiding. 'Just until we graduate college,’ Betty's words echo in her head. Four years is a long time and Jamie is sick of hiding. August came out Sophomore year and didn't care about what anyone thought of her.

"You know what, that sounds amazing."

August squeals and leans across the center console to wrap her arms around Jamie. "We're going to have so much fun, James!"

They never went to Betty’s party. Instead they drove to 7-Eleven, bought snacks and slurpees, and spent the rest of the night at the one skate park in town.

It took a bit of convincing before her mom felt comfortable letting her go on the five week trip. The fact that August had family sprinkled along their route, with whom they would be staying most of the time, helped to reassure her. August created an itinerary for Jamie's mom, so she would have an idea of where they would be and with whom.

A week into the trip, Jamie gets an unexpected text.

'I heard you left town with August Adams. Thanks for the heads up. Hope you have fun.'

The three dots show up and disappear, then reappear once again.

And finally, after almost a minute, 'I hear she's a great lay.'

Jamie doesn't even reply. Her blood boils just a bit. They'd never officially broken things off, but seeing Betty kiss that boy on the dance floor was the last straw. Jamie didn't want to hide anymore. She wanted a girlfriend who's hand she could hold while walking down the street.

So, she got one. Sort of. The text kind of sent her into overdrive and she may have decided to see if all the rumors about August were true. They were. She definitely knew what she was doing and it was nice, but it wasn't the same as it had been with Betty. It was lust. There was no romance in it. At least not on Jamie's part.

Unfortunately, she had no idea the other girl had wanted this since they were Freshmen. It killed Jamie to tell her the truth. August was beautiful and fun and clever, but Jamie's heart belonged to someone else. She confessed everything about her relationship with Betty and how she wished she had gone to that party the night after graduation.

August won't tell anyone. She might be hurt, but she wasn't heartless. She'd never out someone nor would she ever try to get back at Jamie. They did decide to give each other some space. In fact, they only met up once more that summer. It was the day before August was set to leave for school. They hugged awkwardly and promised to keep in touch and to hang out over Thanksgiving break. They didn't keep those promises.

Betty doesn't message her again. Jamie rides past the girl's house on her skateboard almost every day for a month before she finally gets the nerve to text her.

'Hey, I'm near your house. Can we talk?'

She sits on the curb across the street from Betty's house for an embarrassingly long amount of time before she finally gives up. She stops riding by her house.

It's not until her mom drags her to the mall insisting she needs a new wardrobe for college that she finally sees Betty again. She catches sights of the girl from the store across the way and she tells her mom she'll be right back. She's about to step into the store, but someone grabs her by the wrist and drags her towards an empty service hallway. Jamie's heart stutters until she realizes who exactly has a hold on her.

"What the hell, Inez?"

Inez roughly releases her grasps once they are out of the earshot of passersby.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Me?! What do you think you're doing."

Inez rolls her eyes. "Stay away from her, you freak!"

"What gives you the right to tell me what to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that Betty told me all about how you're desperately in love with her and tried to put the moves on her and that's why she had to switch homerooms. Which I said was weird because as far as I knew you were off playing Thelma and Louise with August Adams. So just, like, leave her alone. She's not... like you."

Jamie bites her tongue. There is so much she wants to say, but it would only make things worse. "Whatever. Maybe you should tell your friend not to flatter herself."

Occasionally, over the next few years, Jamie checks Betty's social media accounts, looking for any hint that one of the girls in her pictures were more than just a friend. Jamie thinks about the night after high school graduation often. She fantasizes about what would have happened if she had gone to Betty's party. Would the girl have finally kissed her in front of their classmates? Was she already drunk when she sent that message? Had she finally been ready to say 'fuck it all' and let everyone know she wasn't who they thought she was?

Jamie will probably never know. But she spends her college years chasing the feeling she had when she was with Betty. There were a couple of women who she thought she had been in love with. Maybe she had been, but there was always this one piece of her heart that hung on to past love.

She dates quite a bit the first couple of years after college, until she eventually gets into a committed relationship. It's great for a while. It lasts four and a half years. She's devastated when it ends. But also, a part of her is relieved. It doesn't really make sense until that next Thanksgiving weekend when her high school class is having its ten year reunion.

She contemplates not going, but she's already R.S.V.P.'d and she's already going to be in town to celebrate Thanksgiving with her family. So, she musters up the courage to go.

The first person she recognizes is August Adams. The other woman greets her with a tight hug.

"James! How are you? God, it's been too long."

"It has."

It really has. Jamie missed her friend. She screwed it all up so much back when they were kids. But the woman still had this brightness that radiated from her and Jamie let herself bask in it.

"Oh, you have to meet my wife," August wraps her arm around the waist of a gorgeous brunette, "This is Autumn. I know, I know. Don't even start."

Jamie chuckles, but keeps quiet. After catching up and seeing way too many pictures of August's kid (she was a proud mom and it was kind of cute, to be honest), Jamie was left alone when the other woman found another old friend to talk to. She didn't mind. It gave her a chance to finally get to the bar and get a drink.

Jamie orders a whiskey on the rocks.

"I'll take one of those too, please," a voice speaks from beside her.

Jamie turns her head and takes in the sight before her. Betty hasn't changed much. If anything, she's even more attractive than she was all those years ago.

"Hi."

"Uhh..." Jamie clears her throat, "Hey."

Betty bites her lower lip, a smirk forming on her face anyway. "You look..." Her eyes scan Jamie's body and Jamie shifts a bit under her gaze, "good."

"That's all." Jamie elbows her playfully. The bartender sets their drinks in front of them. Jamie lifts the glass to her mouth.

"Let me try that again. You look incredible in that suit, but all I can think about is what you'd look like out of it."

Jamie chokes on her drink, pounding her chest with her fist as she coughs. Betty quirks her eyebrows and smirks smugly, while Jamie tries to gain some sense of control over her own body again.

"Umm... wow, that... I wouldn't mind..."

"Are you here with anyone?"

"No. I'm actually single at the moment. You?"

Betty doesn't even bother to answer. Instead she kisses Jamie. It takes a moment for Jamie to register what is happening, but eventually she gets a hold of herself and reciprocates the kiss, matching the passion of the woman in front of her.

There are a couple of 'whoops' from former classmates and a 'Get it, Davis' before Betty pulls away.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

How could Jamie say no to that? After that kiss? After ten years of dreaming about this moment? She couldn't.

"Definitely."

'Out of here' isn't very far. It's actually a room at the hotel where the reunion was being hosted, but really it was better than Jamie could have ever dreamed.

As they lay together in the afterglow, Betty runs her fingers through Jamie's curly, golden locks. Jamie rests her head on Betty's chest, her fingers tracing random patterns across Betty's toned abs.

"You're still as fit as you were back then."

Betty buries her face in Jamie's hair. Jamie feels the laughter rumble through the other woman's chest at the comment. "Really? Those are your first words after everything?"

"I can't help it, when you look like this."

"You're not so bad yourself."

Jamie looks up at Betty incredulously, "I'm sexy as hell."

"Hmm... I mean, you're attractive, sure. 'Sexy as hell', may be a touch too far."

"Oh, yeah?" Jamie smiles up at her as she moves her hand down Betty's abdomen. "Let me show you a touch too far."

Being with Betty makes Jamie feel like she's 17 again. All the years away from the girl did nothing to quell her desire to be as close to her as humanly possible. Somehow it was like a part of Jamie's heart had finally found its place again. It was a part that she thought had long been lost and she had resigned herself to the fact that the puzzle would sit there in her chest missing that one piece forever.

Maybe she didn't know much back when they were kids, but she knew one thing that would always ring true: Betty Davis is, has always been, and will always be her person.

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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

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Heart to Heart

Missing scene from the latest chapter of The Nanny Affair. My MC comforts Sofia after being publicly embarrassed by her father. I hated that scene, and I hate that Sofia is such a one dimensional character.

Background MC (Luna Stafford) x Sam Dalton, but only if you tilt your head and squint.

Tags: @choices-lurker @paulfwesley @zodiacsign1 @thatysn @ermidc @badchoicesposts @senseofduties @canknot @drakewalker04

~v~

Luna can’t enjoy the fact that she’s drinking her salary in fancy champagne, enjoying a rooftop dinner with some of the richest people in the tri-state area. Any other day, this would be a dream come true, but in reality, she’s stuck in a nightmare.

For the past two hours, they’ve been forced to listen to Paolo make snide remarks on everything under the sun from her nannying skills to Sofia’s business acumen. Luna is not a fan of Paolo Russo. He seems like a miserable, stuffy old man whose only joy in life comes from whining and looking down on other people.

She casts a quick glance at Sam. The always poised and out together man looks as bored as she feels. His elbows are on the table, a finger lazily tracing the rim of his champagne flute. Gone are the manners and the fine dining etiquette that’s been drilled into him since infancy.

He looks up, sneaking a glance at her. An easy grin adorns his features as they lock eyes, and she quickly looks away, heat blooming on the apples of her cheeks. It’s rare that Sam is so unapologetic in his flirting with her, especially in the presence of his kids.

The sound of a knife hitting the stem of a champagne flute is all it takes to pull Luna out of her thoughts. Paolo is standing at the head of the table, waiting on everyone to watch him with rapt attention.

He clears his throat obnoxiously, “Ahem. Thank you all for coming to congratulate my beautiful daughter and her future husband on their upcoming nuptials.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Luna sees Sofia sit up a bit straighter, eagerly awaiting the praise she’s sure her father is going to heap onto her.

“Sofia has been run ragged at Russo Industries for far too long,” Paolo continues. “Now she can finally fulfill her purpose to become a wife and mother. After all, a woman in a position of power in the business world is like an unstable explosive, especially around that time of the month.” The older man turns toward Sam, hoping to get a co-sign on his speech. “Right, Sam?”

Luna clenches her fist tightly underneath the table. She can’t believe the unmitigated fall that his man has. “Did he really just say that?”

Sam turns to her with a mournful expression. “Unfortunately.”

Luna isn’t the only one at the table embarrassed by Paolo’s speech. Sam’s mother Vivian leans over to her husband, whispering harshly. “Mason honey, I thought you talked to him about this.”

“I tried, but you know how it goes with Paolo.”

Luna balks at the scene unfolding in front of her. So they all just let Paolo get away with talking like this? It’s just talk, that they all chalk up to Paolo just being Paolo?

Paolo, the arrogant man, is far too caught up in his own spiel to notice that they’re all openly horrified. He just keeps going. “...A family disarms the bomb! That’s why it’s called a biological clock.”

Luna wants to scream. She wants to hit something. She wants to do anything else but listen to this man continue on with his horribly misinformed and misogynistic speech.

“Finally we’re getting to the good stuff.”

“I predict a Sofia meltdown in three...two…”

The countdown doesn’t have to finish as Sofia all but slams her champagne flute down on the table. The noise startles Luna and she flinches slightly.

“I’ve heard this speech before. I don’t need to hear it again.”

Sofia scrambles, attempting to gather her belongings. Luna notices that her hands are slightly trembling and her eyes are glossy, tears threatening to spill.

Before she can stop herself, she’s opening her mouth, “Actually Paolo, men and women have the same brains. Neurologists have been searching for differences for years, but nothing ever turns up. And this society makes girls lesser than men, which is a gross assumption that’s pushed by men like you.”

The admonishment causes a faint blush to appear at Paolo’s neck. “And what does that have to do with my daughter’s role at Russo Industries?”

Luna shrugs. “Even I can tell she would make a great CEO. In fact, I bet you’ve already seen gains under her management.”

“My daughter’s abilities aren’t in question. It’s a matter of right and wrong. Women belong at home. It’s why you became a nanny, right?”

“Paolo, you are way out of line,” Sam says, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically gruff tone. “I won’t have you speaking to Luna like that.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Luna sees Sofia rush off, heading back into the country club, not sticking around for any more of the conversation.

“It’s fine, Sam,” Luna says. The last thing she wants to do is cause a confrontation. It’d raise too many questions. Why is Sam so quick to defend the nanny and not his own fiancée? “This conversation is done anyway.”

Pushing her seat back, Luna throws her napkin on the table and gets up, leaving behind an awkwardly silent dinner party.

Sofia is a very fast walker, but Luna manages to keep a decent pace behind her, her platinum blonde hair making her an easy target to follow. The older woman heads to the restroom, angrily pushing open the door. Luna weaves through patrons of the club and various waiters carrying trays until she reaches the bathroom as well.

Luna is instantly swept up in just how fancy this restroom is. The lighting is dim, it smells like eucalyptus and mint, there’s soft music playing, and she’s pretty sure the faucets are made of real gold.

It isn’t until she hears a sniffle coming from one of the stalls that she is reminded of the reason she entered the restroom in the first place. Taking a peek under the stall, she sees Sofia’s signature Louboutin heels.

“Sofia, I know you’re in there.”

“Go away,” Sofia orders. Her tone doesn’t have its usual bite or chill. Luna frowns at how small she sounds. “I don’t need you here to coddle me.”

“I can’t do that. My conscience won’t let me leave a sad woman crying in the restroom alone.”

“I’m not crying!”

“Sure you’re not. But my point remains, I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

A minute ticks by and Luna is met with silence. Sofia is just as stubborn as she anticipated, maybe even more so.

She leans against the marble countertop, careful to not lean against any wet spots. “If anyone knows how you feel, it would be me.”

More silence.

“I’m a black woman in STEM,” Luna continues, not waiting for a response. “I don’t know what it’s like in the business world, but if I got a dime for every time a man, and sometimes other women, told me to not pursue chemistry, I’d probably be able to afford your shoes.”

“Really?”

Luna smiles to herself. Sofia actually responded to her! She’s making progress! “Really. I was told to focus on nursing or a social science, like sociology or anthropology by multiple teachers, classmates and counselors. Not saying there’s anything wrong with those fields, I think they’re great, but that wasn’t the path for me. I’ve always loved chemistry. I’ve had the periodic table memorized since I was in 3rd grade. Thankfully I have parents that support my passion, because everyone isn’t so lucky.”

Sofia scoffs. “Got that right. I got my BA from Yale, I graduated summa cum laude and I went to Wharton for grad school, but let my dad tell it, I simply wasted 6 years and half a million dollars in tuition costs. Those degrees mean nothing to him because he’s the stereotypical, conservative and traditional Italian man. I’m not the correct sex or gender for him. In a perfect world, I’d be the perfect song but instead, I’m his fussy daughter. I’m not supposed to do anything other than get pregnant and cook, and how dare I want anything else out of life.”

“I say this with the utmost respect, but your father is a sexist jerk,” Luna deadpans. “You can yell at me for saying it, but I don’t regret it. And I’m shocked Russo Industries is still standing because I can only imagine the HR complaints and harassment lawsuits against your father over the years.”

“There’s no need to apologize because it’s the truth. My father doesn’t respect me. He doesn’t respect women at all. My mother was never allowed to have an opinion, and mine isn’t all that valued either.”

“I thought taking the initiative and getting engaged to Sam would make him respect me,” Sofia adds. “I wanted to do this in order to prove to him that I’m worthy. I thought he’d see that I’m a go-getter, and I’m ambitious, and I want the Russo family to thrive, but he doesn’t care about the business aspect of the merger like I do. He’s just glad I found a rich husband.”

Another bout of silence falls between the two women, but this time it’s not as awkward as before. it’s almost peaceful. Luna still hears the occasional sniffle, but she doesn’t call any attention to it. Crying is too vulnerable for Sofia to be open about.

“Besides, I don’t know if things will even pan out the way I want them to,” Sofia says. “The boys aren’t that fond of me, and Sam is just so...cold. I’m trying to make this a decent transition, and I’m trying to find out where I fit in that family dynamic, but it’s not working. He didn’t want me around for his birthday, he doesn’t respect my opinion on how to raise Mickey and Mason. More times than not, it feels like he’s counting down the minutes until he has to be in my presence anymore.” The stall door opens up and Sofia steps out. Her eyes are bloodshot and her nose is red and raw. Luna averts her gaze quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to it.

“I don’t even know if this is worth it anymore. I’m exhausted, and I’m trying to sustain a relationship all by myself. Sam can barely sustain a conversation with me, and my dad isn’t impressed, so what’s the point? What am I doing this all for?”

Luna frowns. Sofia has always seemed so...bold and intimidating, like nothing ever rattled her. But looking underneath the perfectly put together surface, Sofia is just a woman trying to fight and claw for every inch of success, despite the lack of a support system.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Luna says. “I think you’re smart, and I think you’d make an excellent CEO of Russo Industries. And I don’t think you need Sam at your side to do so.”

That shocks Sofia. Her eyebrows shoot up past her hairline at the compliment. “You really think so? You have that much faith in me?”

Luna doesn’t know if she’s giving Sofia this advice because she truly believes in it, or if a selfish part of her wants the other woman to leave Sam alone, so they can finally be together. Her stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought, full of guilt. Does this count as manipulation?

She swallows thickly, pushing down whatever guilt is trying to bubble to the surface and nods. “I do. You don’t need a man to be successful and fulfilled. You don’t need your dad’s approval. And you don’t need to feed into the bullshit cycle of misogyny that your dad perpetuates.”

Sofia walks over to the sink and turns the faucet. After she splashes cool water on her face, she turns back to Luna. “Thank you, I guess. No one has ever talked to my dad the way you did, especially not in defense of me. And thank you for coming in here.”

“You’re welcome. Even the rich and powerful Sofia Russos of the world need 5 minutes to vent and cry.”

“Never mention to anyone that you’ve seen me like this,” Sofia orders sharply. No one, especially people in New York high society, can know that the ice queen herself shows emotion.

“What happens in the ladies’ room, stays in the ladies’ room. Scout’s honor.”

“Good.” Sofia sighs and straightens herself up. Luna watches the cool facade slip back into place as Sofia fixes her makeup and runs a brush through her hair. Sofia is back to being the poised, elegant woman everyone knows.

Once she’s done, she straightens out her clothes and heads to the door. Hesitating, Sofia lingers by the door. She turns back to Luna, her eyes softer than the younger woman has ever seen them. “You know what? Maybe I misjudged you. You aren’t as bad as I originally thought.”

A soft smile tugs on the corner of Luna’s mouth. “That’s high praise coming from you. I’ll take it.”

Without another word, Sofia sweeps out of the restroom, leaving Luna all alone, the sound of her heels clicking against the floors now an echo. With the presence of the other woman no longer stifling her, Luna lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in.

She didn’t know what to expect coming in here to comfort Sofia, but now everything feels much more complicated.

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #the nanny affair #tna #sofia russo #sam dalton #pixelberry

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

KISS v. Phantom

PART EIGHTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussion of parent death, general angst but some fluff, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: College decisions are released, and Ella gets another chance to practice her spontaneity.

Awakening on the Gilmore couch, Ella squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the morning light. Of course Dean had chosen to break up with Rory the first day of spring break, upon hearing about her acceptance to Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. After her shift, Ella had rushed over and been a shoulder for Rory to cry on, along with Lane. Buckets of cookie dough ice cream sat empty on the coffee table, tissues strewn around, and Ella’s makeup had been smeared around her face in her sleep. She was alone. At some point, Rory had gone to bed, she supposed, and Lorelai would be upstairs. Glancing down at her watch, she swore under her breath. It was half past eight; she was meant to be at the diner thirty minutes earlier.

Slapping lightly at her own cheeks, she spread her eyes wide. Taking in a deep breath, she hoisted herself up off the couch and tugged on her shoes, then grabbed her bag by the door. She almost forgot to say goodbye, her hand on the doorknob, before she ran back through the kitchen and into Rory’s bedroom. Rory’s back was to the door, asleep on her side. Ella placed a hand on her shoulder and shook slightly.

“Hey, Ror? I gotta go to work. See you later when you get your coffee, alright?” Ella whispered, watching Rory stir.

Rory grunted some sort of sleepy response.

Smirking, Ella ran back out the door and left the house. The late March morning was dewy and almost too fresh as she raced across town. Her boots were nearly slipping off her feet, her hair flying loose behind her. As she passed the gazebo, she ran nearly straight into Kirk, who had recently taken over as mailman. The most inconvenient time of the century, he’d ended up mixing up several peoples’ college acceptance (or rejection) letters. Though she knew she was late for work, she couldn’t help the slightly sick excitement in her stomach.

“Kirk!” she shouted as he tried to pass her. “Could you give me my mail, please?”

He faced her with a stony expression. “How many times do we have to go over this, Ella? I’m not permitted to give you your mail unless we’re standing on the address property.”

Crossing her arms, she looked down at her shoes and shook her head. Breathing out a frustrated sigh, she put a polite smile on her face. “Kirk, please. Just this once. Please do me this favor.”

Kirk blinked at her, unrelenting.

“Four rhubarb pies,” she wagered, narrowing her eyes at him.

He was silent for a moment, looking like one of the Village People in his mailman getup. She wondered how many of his clothes were regular and how many were various uniforms. “Six pies. By next weekend.”

“Deal,” she smiled, putting a hand out for him to shake.

He shook back, then shuffled through the many envelopes in his huge satchel. Fighting the urge to tap her foot, she watched him for what felt like an eternity. A throb was just beginning to form behind her eyes when he finally pulled out an envelope. A grin came to her face as she saw the return address.

“Thank you!” she chirped, immediately off again in the direction of the diner.

“Six rhubarb pies by next Saturday!” Kirk yelled after her, then went on ambling through town.

She felt a bit like Charlie with his golden ticket, despite having no idea what the content of the envelope would entail. It was the difference between a two-year degree and a four-year degree, community college and a public university. She didn’t really care much either way, but Southern Connecticut State was her top choice. Realistically, she wasn’t excited for the results, she was only excited for the suspense to end. Her dimples shone on her freckled cheeks as she made it through the front door of the diner, the bell above jingling happily. The diner was relatively packed, and she was reminded again how late she was. Luke’s face was stony and gruff, and Jess smirked over at her.

“Rough morning, Stevens?” he asked, taking in her smudged mascara and wild hair.

Ella rolled her eyes playfully and came around the counter after hanging her belongings, the envelope in one fist. But she had trouble getting out all the information between breathless panting. “I got the letter!”

“Southern Connecticut State?” Jess asked, eyebrows raising and smile turning genuine.

Swallowing dryly, she nodded, holding it up for him to see.

“You didn’t open it yet?” he asked in surprise.

“Been a busy morning, jackass,” she said, shaking her head at herself. As she prepared to rip it open, Luke came over from the register and cut the moment short.

“What time were you supposed to be here, Ella? The same time for the last three years? Is it eight-thirty?” he said, voice laced with anger and sarcasm. “Oh, right, it’s eight o’clock. Every single Saturday for the past three years!”

Face falling, Ella nodded along. “Luke, I’m sorry. I had to chase Kirk down for my Southern Connecticut State letter. And I spent all night with Rory. Dean broke up with her after she got into Harvard and-”

“What?” Luke interrupted. “The bag boy broke up with her?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Yesterday, but-”

Before she could even finish the sentence, Luke was calling back an order to Caesar for chocolate chip pancakes, breathing huffy and frustrated. He rambled on about how much he hated Dean, how he would never be allowed back in the diner, and other such dramatic threats. Watching with brows furrowed, Jess and Ella eventually locked eyes again.

“Should I wait for him to calm down?” she asked Jess, looking back down at the envelope.

Jess shook his head. “Could take years. I’d go for it if I were you.”

“I don’t think you could handle being me.”

“You opening it or not?”

Nodding slowly, she took in a deep breath and ripped it open. She took out the crisp sheet of white paper, text in dark ink and signed at the bottom, her heart in her throat.

Ella began reading aloud, Jess standing across from her expectantly. The other patrons in the diner were more or less completely enraptured by Luke’s tantrum.

“Dear Miss Stevens, I am pleased to congratulate you on your acceptance-”

“You did it! You’re in!” Jess cut her off, gesturing excitedly as he spoke. It was odd to see him so earnest in his emotion, especially standing behind the counter at the diner.

A slow smile spread on her lips, as she stared almost blankly at the words before her. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Eventually, she folded the letter back up and looked up at him. He had to stop himself from tilting his head at the expression on her face, almost false in its happiness. The smile didn’t reach her hazel eyes.

“Congrats, Stevens,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She didn’t even blush like she normally would, instead only wrapping her arms around his neck. After holding him in a tight embrace for a moment, she cleared her throat and pulled away, an artificial smile still present.

“Thanks,” she said, putting all the contents back into the envelope and sighing softly, all at once acutely aware of the environment around her. “I guess I should get to work.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, confusion painting his face. Before she went to put the letter back in her bag, he brought a gentle hand to her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I always am.”

. . .

A long day of comforting Rory, serving coffee, and dealing with the flurry of townie activity brought Ella to the bridge. She held a copy of Little Women in her lap, the book she’d read probably hundreds of times before. Eyes roaming over the words, she could practically hear her mother’s voice. Soft and sweet, and always passive. Her voice always made Ella feel so simply safe. She could smell the Pond’s Cold Cream her mother had once worn. Crickets sang around her, spring finally having sprung. The air was cool but humid, charged with the possibility of rain.

Sat trying to read, she couldn’t help the tears that spotted the pages. She’d tried going home after her shift, but felt too antsy inside her own tiny room. Knowing she’d be bound to live there for at least a couple more years. And she took the book from the top drawer of her dresser, telling Fiona nothing more than that she was going out, and she wouldn’t be back for dinner. The moon had risen between the clouds. A pit of dread had been sitting in her stomach almost all day, since she’d opened the letter. For just a moment, she had been happy, relieved to have gotten into her top choice, but then the reality hit. It was real. College. Living at home. She wiped at her cheeks, sniffling. So much work, and she still felt so far away from anything resembling her goals. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, the tears blurred her vision. Blowing out a shaky breath, she turned the page.

“Hey, Daria,” she heard to her left. Startling, she snapped the book shut and blinked quickly. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the tears which had spilled over once again.

“James Dean,” she sighed, not having to look over to recognize him. “Sneaking up on people, again, huh?”

Shrugging off the bite in her voice, he came to sit down next to her, close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other. Luckily, she didn’t flinch away from his touch as he’d been half-expecting her to. Clearing her throat, she swallowed down her flush and hoped he couldn’t see the shine in her hazel eyes.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he drawled, looking over the lake. “You seemed quiet today. And you rushed out right after your shift. Are you feeling okay?”

Uttering a bitter scoff, Ella let a smirk cross her face. “Yeah. I’m great. I’m going to Southern Connecticut State, after all.”

“Yes. You are,” he said flatly, wondering what could be bothering her. “And?”

“I don’t wanna talk, Jess,” she snapped, shaking her head at herself. More tears welled up in her eyes, and she looked away from him, tossing her book to the side in slight anger.

“Okay,” he nodded. And he sat beside her, saying nothing, listening to the sounds of nighttime and watching the lake.

Then, after a long silence, Ella glanced over at the book, back at the water: “My mom used to read Little Women to me. Before bed. And then I read it over and over. Even before she died, I was just always...I was always reading it. I don’t know why.”

Jess wasn’t lost on the shakiness in her voice. “Huh.”

“Yeah. And she…” she paused to sigh, shaking her head again. She stared down at her lap, wringing her hands together anxiously. “She lived here her whole life. She was a great mom and everything but...she would just lie down and take it. Anything. Life would come at her and s-she was...sweet and kind...but she just never…”

“Bit back?” Jess ventured quietly, watching at the way her face contorted in the moonlight. He could see her fighting back the sobs, silent tears falling down her face in streaks.

Ella nodded sadly. “Exactly. I love her so much. But I don’t wanna be her. I don’t wanna be stuck here my whole life.”

“You won’t be, Eleanor,” he said, starting to understand, trying to catch her gaze. She simply refused to make eye contact with him.

She gave a humorless chuckle. “That’s what Lorelai said. But no one really knows anything, do they? I think they’re just lucky. Lorelai and Rory. And I’m not Rory. I’ll never be Rory.”

“What do you mean?” he chimed in, running a hand up and down her back, remembering how her touch had felt the night he cut his hand.

“They think things can work out,” she continued. “I mean...fuck. Rory got into Harvard and Princeton and Yale. And her grandparents are basically a bottomless pit of money. She could have anything she wants. And instead she spends the whole day crying over her dumbass boyfriend. And everyone just drops everything to make her feel better.”

Brows knitted together, he nodded slightly. Jess thought back to the morning, Luke’s tirade about Dean while Ella held her future between her fingers.

She spoke through gritted teeth as angry tears kept rolling down her face. “And I hate being jealous of her. I mean...she’s one of my best friends. And I don’t mean she doesn’t have problems. I don’t want a pity party. Of course she has problems! I mean...her dad wasn't in her life for so long. But...he came back, y’know? He came back for her. And everyone in this town loves her. Sometimes, it’s like she lives in a different world. Where everything gets fixed with coffee and sugar and her grandparents’ money.”

Speaking with her hands, she tilted her head and looked up at the sky. Maybe in an effort to dry her eyes against the breeze. She cleared her throat, hoping her voice wouldn’t sound so wobbly. Embarrassment burned in her stomach, but she couldn’t help as the words poured straight from her mind to her mouth.

“And she gets to go wherever she wants. She gets everything she wants. And she gets Lorelai. She gets a mom who she’s best friends with, who would never leave her. And my mom…”

“She didn’t wanna leave you,” Jess said firmly.

Heaving a big sigh, she swallowed thickly. “She didn’t want to. But she did. She was...um...born with this heart thing? And one night it just...got her. I went to bed one night with a mom and I woke up without one. Just like that.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. Though his family wasn’t exactly a greeting card situation, he couldn’t imagine losing his whole world forever, literally overnight.

“Yeah,” she sighed, voice exhausted. “And I didn’t cry at the funeral, but sometimes alone...I’ll get upset about it and I’ll think: ‘Okay, this is the last time. Just be sad about it one more time and your heart won’t be broken anymore. This is the last time.’ But it never is. It always comes back. I think I’ll always...have a piece missing, I guess. And today...it just came back. Because everyone was there for Rory about Harvard and Yale and Dean. Lorelai stayed up almost all night with us last night. And I haven’t talked to my mom since I was fourteen. I’ll never talk to her again.

“And now...my dad can’t even look at me. Not exactly like he was such an involved father before. But every time he looks at me, all he can see is her. I just...I just look so much like her. It’s not like I could blame him. I wouldn’t wanna have a doppelganger of my dead wife living in my house either.”

“Well, you didn’t ask for a Freaky Friday situation,” he said.

It earned him a small giggle, and he flashed her a tiny smile.

“It’s not your fault, Eleanor.”

“I know,” she nodded, then took in a big breath. “Fuck. And here I said I didn’t wanna talk. I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to tell you all that. And I know everyone has problems. I’m not special or anything. Lots of people have dead parents. But..no one talks about it. Not in Stars Hollow. Everything just needs to be happy here, but everything reminds me of her. No one...no one ever talks about her. I’m sorry, Jess, I don’t mean to-”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry over,” he told her, shaking his head.

She chuckled weakly, wiping at her nose. “And I hate crying.”

“I know.”

“Especially in front of people.”

“I know,” he repeated softly, finally locking eyes with her. His mouth was set in a thin line. All the things he wanted to say were stuck in his throat. Instead, he only listened. She needed to talk about it. She needed someone who wouldn’t brush it off, who wouldn’t get uncomfortable. Who would just hear her.

“But I just can’t stop crying,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

She put her hands over her face in shame and guilt, weeping quietly. Each time she got upset about her mother, she reminded herself of how much worse it could be. From what little she knew, she could gather Jess had never even met his father. She couldn’t blame Jess if he just walked away, or yelled at her for taking what she had for granted. At least she had two parents for as long as she did. It was a vicious cycle in her head, making her dizzy.

Jess felt his heart do a twist as she crumpled, and acted only on instinct. He enveloped her in his arms and her head went to his shoulder, wetting his jacket. Rubbing circles over her back, Jess held her against the chilly wind.

“You wanna push me in the lake?” he asked, breaking the silence. “It’s cathartic, I hear. Might make you feel better.”

Ella uttered a watery laugh. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

. . .

Blondie blasted through her speakers, and she huffed at herself as she tried to finish her makeup. She was having trouble making her eyeliner work, eventually deciding to just smudge it out, falling back on grunge as she usually did. Getting up to grab her boots, she gasped audibly when she heard a knock on the window. Rationally, she knew it was Jess. Who else regularly climbed through her window? But, still, in the back of her mind, she worried about hypothetical murderers. Occasional viewings of Dateline did nothing to subdue her mistrust of the world at large. Taking a boot in her hand by the laces, she walked over, ready to fend off a potential assailant. Her shoulders relaxed when she pushed the curtains back and Jess stood out in the gloomy morning with a smug smirk.

The window screeched as she opened it, and she leaned out with a grin. “Did Luke send you to avoid a do-over of yesterday? Because, by my clock, I’m not late for another forty-five minutes.”

Jess shook his head. “Good guess, but no. Are you, by any chance, still practicing your spontaneity?”

She furrowed her brows. “Occasionally. But, today, diner duty calls.”

“Actually, I got us both the day off.”

“What?” she asked, chuckling through her words. “Fuck off.”

“So eloquent, Daria. But I’m serious. We’re on spring break, so I switched with Guillermo for Tuesday.”

“Right, but hate to break it to you, I’m the other half of this duo. And I’m Luke’s favorite waitress, as we know. It’s my natural charm, of course,” she quipped, forearms resting on the window sill.

“Told him you had a migraine last night. He figured you’d need rest,” Jess explained, shrugging.

Ella shook her head in disbelief, smile turning to a smirk. “Migraine being code for major meltdown?”

“Semantics.”

She scoffed. “Really? We’re both off?”

“Really,” he said, shaking his head at her suspicion. “Free as birds. You need some notarized documentation?”

Snickering, she shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. “Well, did you have any particular plans in mind? Or was this just spontaneity for the sake of it?”

“Well, last time you were in New York, you didn’t get the full experience. Thought maybe we could go to the Met, Miss O’Keefe?” Jess shifted his weight on his feet, a familiar uncertainty welling in his stomach. “I brought my car. We’ll be back before anyone will suspect where we went.”

Ella shook her head again in pleasant shock, giggling slightly. “If you can promise me no felony charges?”

“Misdemeanor at most,” he said, chuckling.

“Alright,” she said, stepping into her boots. “Let me just grab my jacket. You’re the fucking best, Mariano.”

. . .

“Yikes.”

Jess raised an eyebrow and looked over at her as she shuffled through the center console of his car, searching for a CD. She’d been exploring the selection. They didn’t often need a car, and when they did, Ella was always driving. She just preferred to be behind the wheel, and also, more importantly, his car was pretty much a death trap. But he’d insisted on driving to New York, paying for the gas himself. Face falling, he saw the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack in her hands. As a native New Yorker, he’d had Broadway shoved in his face his whole life. It wasn’t his fault if some of it stuck. He kept it in the car with various other road trip music, away from his uncle’s wandering eyes. He’d forgotten it was in there, along with a couple other soundtracks, from both movies and musicals.

A flush crept up the back of his neck. “Oh, that’s my mom’s.”

“Bullshit,” she laughed, immediately going to pop it in the CD player. She shook her head slightly as the first piano chords came through the speakers. “You like musicals, huh?”

“No. Jumping to conclusions much, Nancy Drew?”

“C’mon, Jess, I know a swan beaked you in the eye, I know you work at Walmart, it’s cool if you’re a theater geek,” she said, shrugging with a wide smile. “I mean, I like Phantom of the Opera too. It’s got a ghost, sort of. That’s all I can ask for.”

Sighing heavily, Jess bit his bottom lip. “My mom had a bunch of soundtracks in her car when I was younger. Hers were eight-tracks, but whoever had this car before me put in a CD player. I just...carried on the tradition.”

“Whatever, tough guy,” she teased. “Is there a home video of little Jess singing along out there somewhere?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Methinks the man doth protest too much.”

He rolled his eyes. “KISS t-shirt. Need I say more?”

“Touché,” she said, eyes lingering on him playfully for just a moment longer as the music started up.

Fighting off the urge to sing along, she watched Jess’s eyes, trained on the road. They’d been driving around an hour, good natured arguments over movies and music, through the misty morning air. The highway was largely empty, Sunday morning drivers at church or sleeping in. Ella almost couldn’t believe she was bound for a place dedicated to master works of art. She was about to see Van Gogh with her own eyes. The thought alone was enough to make her heart skip happily.

“Jess?”

“Hm?”

She shifted a little in her seat and her fingers went to clutch at her necklace. “Thanks for listening last night. I’m sorry I was such a freak about everything.”

Jess sighed through his nose. “No reason to be sorry. I get it.”

“You don’t need to be nice about it,” she continued, pursing her lips.

“What are you talking about? I’m always an angel,” he scoffed, a wicked sparkle in his brown eyes. When she looked unamused, he shook his head a little. “Eleanor, it’s fine. There is nothing for you to be sorry over.”

“And you don’t pity your sad sack girlfriend?”

He scoffed. “My girlfriend’s a badass artist. She doesn’t need my pity.”

“Very true,” she nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Seriously Jess, thank you. I can’t believe you’re taking me to the Met.”

He shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t do things I don’t wanna do.”

. . .

Standing before Van Gogh’s “Flowering Orchard,” Ella felt a foreign lightness spread throughout her being. She had so many favorites, many of which she’d seen in the last few hours. Monet, O’Keefe, Picasso. But there was something about Van Gogh which always stuck out to her, a perspective so different from her own. She who saw everything with a hidden darkness, an ulterior motive. So rarely did she work in lively color. Ella couldn’t even fathom seeing such a vibrance in what was so often a gloomy world. It took her breath away to see the piece in person, the canvas Van Gogh himself had touched. She could feel her heart reaching out to the painting, a connection to the past. It was what she loved most about art, writing, music. Impersonal love letters sent out to the public, from creator to creation to audience.

Ella didn’t even startle as Jess’s arms laced around her waist, and she leaned back against him. “Hey, James Dean.”

He smirked. “Hey Daria, hate to break it to you, but we should go if we wanna be back before they call the FBI on us crazy kids.”

Clicking her tongue in disappointment, she looked down at the watch on his wrist and nodded. “One more minute.”

“If you insist.”

She chuckled. “Can you imagine seeing the world this way?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice in hushed tones with other viewers milling about near them. But, with his arms around her, Ella so calm and in her element, it felt like a private world. Where parents didn’t break promises and eyes didn’t pass premature judgement.

“Just…” she began, pausing to gather her thoughts, “he could see things with so much color and life and...I could never look at things this way. Maybe I’d be a better artist if I wasn’t such a cynic.”

“Oh, I think cynicism is a benefit in all areas of life,” he said.

“You sure about that, Nietzche?”

“Way I see it, there’s cynicism or there’s cutting off your own ear.”

She scoffed. “No middle ground?”

Jess shook his head. “No one becomes an artist unless they have to.”

“Deep, but not yours. That’s from White Oleander, thief,” she said, a smug smirk on her face.

“The point still stands, no matter the origin.”

“I know, but...it must have been so intense for him to live that way. To...I don’t know. I wonder if the torture is worth it to be such a genius,” she thought aloud, a wistful glaze in her eyes.

Biting his lip, Jess’s smirk grew. Despite how much Ella told him the only reason for her perfect grades was her insane work ethic and stellar organizational skills, he knew it wasn’t true. She was smart in ways she didn’t ever acknowledge, thought about things in ways which would never even occur to him. Of course he could see the beauty in all the art they’d encountered, and in the painting in front of him, but she could feel it, the way he felt the words in his books. And she could look at poetry and music as a linguistic collage, art in itself. It never surprised him how fond she was of modernism. Her mind was something he could never quite grasp, a complexity he could only admire. She would always be smarter. His heart felt so full, watching her watch the painting, he almost felt silly. Each day he got more sure. It was love he felt for her.

. . .

Reddish brake lights glowed against the dark highway. Ella could still taste the salt on her lips from the street food they’d had for both lunch and dinner. The windows of the rusty, screeching car were cracked slightly open, letting in the fresh, chilly spring air. Her blonde waves blew back from her face as the CD ran out. Without a word, she ejected the disk, put it back in its case, and started shuffling through the other albums.

“Jesus, Mariano, how have you never told me you like Rocky Horror?”

He sighed but didn’t have time to retort before she pointed a finger at him.

“We are going to a screening at some point. And I, of course, will be dressing up,” she said with a smile, not even looking over at him as she found a new CD. Looking over, he saw a flash of red and black on the case as she opened it up. He couldn’t hide his tiny grin as he turned back to the road.

“As long as I don’t have to,” he shrugged, heart fluttering in his chest with pleasant excitement as she put the disk in.

Ella reached her arm over and placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck, leaning deeper into her seat. Shivers went down Jess’s spine at her touch, and the opening chords of “Untitled” by Interpol. Neither of them said a word, but the soft smile never left Ella’s face. She remembered his hands on her waist the first time they kissed, the warm tingling in the pit of her stomach. Notes in books and drunken evenings, stitches and pianos, paintings and shoulders to cry on. Ella glanced over at him, could see the lights of the nighttime reflected in his brown eyes, and felt as she never thought she would. So strangely whole.

“Jess?”

“Yeah, honey?”

The words almost left her lips, she could taste them on her tongue, but she bit them back as her heart began racing. Instead, she breathed in, fresh air and the smell of pine.

“Do you wish your angel of music would hide no longer?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes and his voice held no emotion as he spoke. “I don’t know, Stevens, do you wanna rock and roll all night? And party every day?”

#jess mariano au #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano one shot #jess mariano one shots #jess mariano fanfiction #gilmore girls fanfiction #jess #mariano #jess mariano #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls imagine #gilmore girls #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano x original character #original character #original character stories #rory gilmore #luke danes

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theculturedmarxist · 4 years

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But ultimately, the decision will be up to governors and state and local health officials. They are not required to follow C.D.C. guidelines, though historically they have done so.

Defining ‘essential'

One occupation whose priority is being hotly debated is teaching. The C.D.C. includes educators as essential workers. But not everyone agrees with that designation.

The analysis, a working paper for the National Bureau of Economic Research, is in line with other critics, who say that the list of essential workers is too wide-ranging.

Death vs. transmission

But to protect older people more at risk, he called on the C.D.C. committee to also integrate the agency’s own “social vulnerability index.”

Still, some people believe it is wrong to give racial and socioeconomic equity more weight than who is most likely to die.

Blurred lines, many unknowns

“Here’s the thing: Everybody’s got a grandmother or grandfather,” Mr. Perrone said. “And I do believe almost everybody in this country would want to protect them, or their aging parents.”

But Dr. Nirav Shah, Maine’s top public health official, said he respectfully disagreed, repeating the explanation he had given his in-laws — who are older but in good health and able to socially distance.

He said: “I’ve told them: ‘You know what? I’m sorry, but there are others that I need to get this vaccine to first, so that when you guys get vaccinated, the world you come back into is ready to receive you.’”

All these plans are, of course, unfurling with essential information still unknown.Many state officials said that as on-the-ground realities emerge, they fully expect their plans to evolve.

One uncertainty: given the high rates of apprehension swirling around this vaccine, how many people in the early groups will actually line up for it?

“If a high proportion of essential workers decline to get the vaccine, states will have to quickly move onto the next group anyway,” said Dr. Prosser, the University of Michigan health analyst. “Because once the vaccines arrive, they will have to be used in a certain amount of time before they degrade."

Additional work by Jugal K. Patel.

Abby Goodnough is a national health care correspondent. She has also served as bureau chief in Miami and Boston, and covered education and politics in New York City. She joined The Times in 1993. @abbygoodnough

Jan Hoffman writes about behavioral health and health law. Her wide-ranging subjects include opioids, vaping, tribes and adolescents. @JanHoffmanNYT

#healthcare #covid vaccine #racism #ethics

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creepingsharia · 5 years

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Virginia: Daughter of terror-linked Muslim wins school board seat, Muslim Brotherhood praises

Abrar Omeish’s father, Esam Omeish, is on a list of 75 terrorists issued by a Libyan parliamentary committee.

The daughter of one of America's most prominent Islamist leaders became the youngest woman and one of the first Muslim women elected to office in Virginia on Tuesday. Abrar Omeish, 24, won an at-large seat on the Fairfax County school board as part of a Democratic wave that also gave the party control of both houses of Virginia's General Assembly.

Omeish's campaign focused on improving student-teacher ratios, improving teacher morale and improving district finances.

"This campaign represents a local movement to set a new standard of public service -- to provide accessible and inclusive leadership that elevates and empowers all people to participate," Omeish said in a statement. "Education is the starting point for all members of our community to access opportunity to meet their potential and we must fight to ensure that every child can succeed here."

Her campaign received support from her father, former Muslim American Society (MAS) President Esam Omeish. Prosecutors say MAS is the Muslim Brotherhood's "overt arm" in the United States.

Omeish had to resign from a state immigration board in 2006 after the Investigative Project on Terrorism (IPT) released video of him endorsing violent jihad at a 2000 rally. He lauded Palestinians for learning the "jihad way" to achieve liberation. In 2016, he claimed that few Muslims had the same adherence to duty and morals as the Muslim Brotherhood. In 2011, he admitted that he used to belong to the Brotherhood . He's also a longtime board member at the Dar al-Hijrah Islamic Center in Falls Church, which has a history of supporting Brotherhood causes.

While a student at Yale in 2014, Abrar Omeish led the Muslim Student Association's (MSA) effort to silence ex-Muslim and Islamist critic Ayaan Hirsi Ali. She claimed that Hirsi Ali "does not have the scholarly credentials to speak on Islam" and demanded that a planned event featuring Hirsi Ali "be limited to subjects she can speak on from her personal experiences."

Abrar Omeish supports the Muslim Brotherhood-linked International Institute for Islamic Thought (IIIT), which has long endorsed an Islamic supremacist vision of society. Thirty years ago, IIIT's then managing editor of its social science journal, Shareefa al-Khatib, advocated modifying curricula to proselytize. Al-Khatib played a key role in introducing Islam and the Arabic language into the Fairfax County Public Schools in the 1990s.

Omeish discussed her campaign during a February IIIT podcast. She said her religious background would guide her actions should she be elected.

"Just thinking of the ways that Allah SWT's blessings don't come out of nowhere or just because, right? How do we, how do I maximize those opportunities in ways that serve the community and that answer again to being that witness? Ultimately, we will have to answer one day for what we were given, for what we saw, and what we did. So this was one of those very obvious trajectories in my mind that leads to a life of public service, within politics. Again, and again, I come back to wow, I'm really grateful to have a core moral guideline or core moral framework because this game is messy, and can turn into...it's very easy to turn into...to be self-centered, to have an ego, to waver on integrity when it comes to the decisions one makes politically and strategically," Omeish said.

The Council on American Islamic Relations (CAIR) heralded Omeish's win by tweeting out an article saying that she could make history. She spoke last year at CAIR's leadership conference in Arlington, Va.

...

People with Muslim Brotherhood links praised Omeish's election.

"Congratulations mashallah God bless you," wrote Ghassan Hitto, the Syrian opposition's former Muslim Brotherhood prime minister. "I ask God blessed that his achievements be great for all the inhabitants of the state. So proud."

Hani Elkadi, president of the Muslim Brotherhood-linked Egyptian Americans for Freedom and Justice (EAFJ), praised the victory.

"A thousand congratulations Dr. Esam and may God help it, God willing," Elkadi wrote.

Radwan Masmoudi, president of the Center for the Study of Islam and Democracy (CSID) and member of Tunisia's Brotherhood-linked Ennahda Party, also celebrated.

"Congratulations to our daughter Abrar," Masmoudi wrote.

Abrar Omeish did make history in Virginia Tuesday. Her Islamist ties and statements about religion guiding her priorities in office will merit observation.

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

Omeish’s father has called for jihad and the video still exists.

More on the family’s terror ties via Canary Mission:

Omeish’s father, Esam Omeish, is the former president of the Muslim American Society (MAS) and has been accused of “urging violence" and criticized for his anti-Israel activism. Omeish’s uncle, Mohamed Omeish, headed the United States branch of a charity, the International Islamic Relief Organization (IIRO), that channeled funds to terrorist organizations associated with al-Qaeda.

#Education #Immigration #Sharia #Islam #Muslim #Legal #Jihad #News #Politics

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the-other-art-blog · 4 years

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Finished Gossip Girl. I have mixed feelings...

I don’t belong to the 1% of the population this series tries to portray. Man, I’m so far from that. Actually, I would be closer to Dan’s kind of people. I went to expensive schools because I got scholarships.

I was able to be around Gossip Girl kind of people. It’s horrible. Especially in junior high school (secundaria, between 12-15 years old), I wanted to kill them. They were just mean. I was never friends with them. And there is a feeling of inferiority when you see all the things they have, and you just know your parents are never going to afford them. It’s stupid, I know, but at 14 years old, it felt like it meant everything. And there were some moments where I even got mad at my mother for making me go where I didn’t belong. So when Jenny Humphrey told her dad that he can’t just send her with simple clothes (I don’t actually remember what she said there, but it was something like that) to a school like that, I got her. High school and university got even more expensive, and classmates were richer. Eventually, everyone gets past that. I did. But it’s hard growing up with those people.

To me, GG reminded me to that phase of my life and it wasn’t pretty. And I might sound preachy, but I don’t think it was good idea letting impressionable girls watch that show or anyone really. Blair Waldorf was a bitch, she genuinely believed she was a queen and treated everyone as garbage. No one was enough for her. I was naive enough to believe that NYU would do good on her, that she would become a better person. Instead, she got Columbia! She deserved to be in NYU, where she was rejected and trashed. Get a taste of her own medicine until she changes or cracks. She deserves it! Not even after she fell for Dan was she able to show respect. That’s why she never had one single friend, only minions and enemies. I hope this serves as a warning to whoever wants to be like Blair. Characters with a bitchy side are fun, up to a point. Blair went way beyond that.

But she not alone! NO ONE EVER PAYS THE CONSEQUENCES FOR THEIR ACTIONS. Not even Dan who made their lives miserable. Serena claims to be the best, the most honest, empathic and nice, but she’s as spoiled and cruel as Blair.

Also, why the hell are Serena and Blair friends? They hate each other. That’s not a healthy relationship. They constantly hurt each other and compete against one another. You’re angry that Amy March burned Jo’s book?? Hell these two played with each other boyfriends, Serena plays an important part in Blair losing Yale, they cause scenes and expose the other’s deepest secrets and more. And they still get the happily ever after???

And Lily! She sent an innocent man to jail so that her drug addict/alcoholic/shallow/mean daughter would be re-accepted in Constance. Oh but when Carol does something, then she does deserve to go to jail. What a hypocrite! Of course she was after the money.

I guess it’s realistic. Life is not that fair. Those people don’t deserve trust-funds.

What is not realistic at all is their behavior. Those are not teenagers. They go to bars all over the city? They inherit multi million dollars companies at like 18 years old? Why don’t you just situated them at college and go from there. I suppose the last two seasons they have already graduated?? They don’t show them at school anymore so... It’s just not believable.

I’m sorry, but I once said Little Women is too preachy, but I would definitely prefer that than GG and its loose morals.

Ultimately, I enjoyed the first couple of seasons. The next seasons were more of a soap opera for me, with people coming back from death. Bart Bass’ second death was so ridiculous. I even thought it was a dream because of the dramatic music. I fast forward a lot of scenes.

It’s good entertainment, just don’t take these people as role models.

Oh one more thing. This shows reminded of a bunch of songs I have forgotten about, so kudos for that!

#sorry for comparing Little Women to Gossip Girl #but that's my current obssession #gossip girl #final thoughts #blair waldorf #chuck bass #serena van der woodsen #dan humphrey

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xxlittle0birdxx · 4 years

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Ch. 3: Colorado Springs I

Bitty’s laugh abruptly turned into a surprised squeak, as a sharp elbow jabbed him between the shoulder blades. ‘’Scuse me…’ He turned to find Steadman, the d-man from Yale, glaring at him.

‘You don’t belong here,’ Steadman growled.

Alex reached out and lightly, playfully punched Steadman on the shoulder. ‘Belongs here as much as anyone.’

‘Are you lost?’ Steadman snarked. ‘Women’s team tryouts are in Wisconsin.’

Bitty bounced on the balls of his feet a few times, his body stiff, but Coach Hall’s words penetrated the roaring in his ears. Just tryin’ to get a rise outta me… He lifted his chin with a pugnacious grin. ‘We’ll see about that on the ice. See if you can skate as fast as you run your mouth.’ He turned back to Chowder and Whiskey. ‘Although based on how you played during the regular season, my Moomaw skates faster’n you,’ he threw over his shoulder tauntingly. ‘See ya tomorrow.’

#eric bittle #christopher chow #connor whisk #usoc hockey trials #zimbits

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gotboredwrote · 5 years

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Amareangelusops // TM!JFM

Pairing: Tim Murphy x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.2K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Fluff, sexual implications (nothing explicit) Summary: Tim has been on a dig for weeks and comes home with incredible news, but keeps it a secret. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: I SWEAR THE NAME OF THIS STORY WILL MAKE SENSE JUST GO WITH IT LMAO. Like everyone else on this site, all inspiration for character traits comes from Rowan’s ( @dr-tim-murphy / @gardnerlangway ) headcanons because she is the supreme Tim stan and no one compares honestly, so thank you, hon! (also if you read this and actually even think its 0.04% good I would cry the happiest tears)

Masterlist

Five weeks. That is how long it has been since your angel Tim was physically in your presence. Sure, there were things scattered around your shared apartment that were his, that reminded you of him, or just made you think of him. But the actual Tim had not been able to hold your hand, hug you, love you for five weeks. The closest you came were the phone calls. At least one a day, more if he could manage it. The time difference did not help the situation, and you missed each other a desperate amount. There would even be days that it got so bad for you that you would go to the museum just to sit in his office and take everything in, the staff understanding the slight separation anxiety since they had seen it with other paleontologists and archeologists. Other days you would lounge around at home, throwing on one of Tim’s sweatshirts or blazers just to get some feeling of him. A smell of cedar and old books. It eased your nerves. You chose one of these sweatshirts and practically raced to the airport the day Tim was due home. You had gotten there an hour early, and when you saw him walk out of his terminal, you were not waiting for him with a sign or flowers like most people in the movies do. Being your dorky, supportive self, there you were with the small tyrannosaurus-rex skull replica Tim had gifted you randomly lifted above your head. Neither you nor Tim cared about the looks people gave you because all that mattered was that your love, your angel, was back with you. The reunion hug was euphoric, feeling his arms around you, and his smell entering your body.

“Timmy… I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, angel.”

Once Tim had found his suitcase, the two of you made your way to your car, talking back and forth at one another about everything. He caught you up on the details of the dig, you told him about work and everything you did while he was gone. Normal stuff, like you two had not missed a day without each other, despite it feeling like you had not seen each other in years. Tim was waiting for you to ask the one question he was afraid you were going to ask. He managed to go the entire ride home from the airport dodging the question, but the minute you two were upstairs beginning to sort through his suitcase for dirty clothes, toiletries, and other small things, you asked him.

“So! You know I need to know; did you guys find anything special on the dig?”

“Not really.” He was lying, but you were not about to know that any time soon. “A couple of small drinking vessels, or at least what we think are small drinking vessels. And I think Rory found a piece of what could have been a hieroglyphic of some sort.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t consider that stuff amazing?”

“I mean, it is! Don’t get me wrong. It’s just been a while since our museum team found something extraordinary. The rival museum finds something on practically every dig. It can just be… frustrating.”

“Well, I for one think those idiots are faking it. I mean, I only know about the things you’ve taught me, Tim, but it doesn’t seem possible to find half complete dinos on each dig, ya know? I’ll take a small cup over a fake dinosaur any day, especially if my guy found it!”

You leaned to the edge of the bed and pecked him on the cheek. You were sitting in the middle of it while he was placing all his belongings around you, not even bothering to tell you to move even though he needed the space because you were just too adorable to not be in his sight. He flushed a little bit at the contact. He normally flustered easy around you, despite how long you two had been together, but especially now. It had been five weeks since he could be physically connected to you, and it killed him. He wanted every bone, atom, and molecule in his body to absorb the feeling he got from your lips on his skin and drive him mad for you, but as you did this, he had been looking down into his suitcase at his palms. Upturned. He had gotten a lot better about not feeling a certain way about the way they looked, especially if he was with you. You never paid any mind to the scars littering his body, unless that was your intention in certain instances. However, his mind began to flood with the memory of one of the earlier days of the dig, and his body tensed.

“What is it? What’s bothering you? You were happy not three seconds ago, love.”

“It’s nothing. Really. I just remembered something from the dig.”

“Wanna talk about it? Or would you rather just unpack and sleep?”

“Remember I told you this dig was with the usual crew with one exception?”

“Yeah, vaguely. I remember you mentioning something about a grad student but I don’t really remember anything else. Why?”

“He asked about them. Wanted details.”

Tim was referring to Garrett, a grad student from Yale who had been invited to join Tim and his team on the dig. The kid wanted to be an archeologist, but to Tim, it was for all the wrong reasons. He imagined himself becoming the next Indiana Jones. He was partially interested in the history behind the artifacts, but he was more concerned with bulking up muscles because of some digs being more laborious than others, and being able to say that he is a world traveler and knows stuff to attract the attention of girls. While Garrett was a nice kid, he had a few traits Tim did not like, the obvious one being that he was a user. He did not like the way he treated the people who crossed his path, especially women. Did not respect them at all, really. It made Tim’s blood boil because he could never understand how someone could disrespect a woman for any reason. Another trait Tim was not fond of was his forwardness. You were forward, but in a way that Tim found attractive. You know where limits and boundaries are in certain situations, but otherwise you do not beat around the bush. It made you bold, and being the shyer one in the relationship, he felt it was a good balance. Garrett, meanwhile, had no filter. No understanding that there are things that need to be treaded carefully. Tim was told that Garrett would have been informed by one of his professors or at least someone on the dig leadership team that he should not ask Tim about any marks he may see on Tim’s body. Especially his hands. Either no one told him, or he was informed but still questioned anyway. Tim would place his bets on the latter.

[flashback start]

Cairo, Egypt, 11:24am

“Yo, Dr. Tim!”

“Hmm? Yes, Garrett?” Tim had been leaned over a small cutout in the ground lightly dusting away for Rory while he went to grab some water.

“What’s the deal with your hands?”

Tim froze his motions and stared emotionlessly and expressionlessly at Garrett, dumbfounded at the young adult and the way he phrased his inquiry.

“I got hurt. It was years ago, Garrett. Go work on your section.”

“No way, Dr. Murphy. You’re going to tell me what happened now or I will do no work for the rest of the dig and just follow you around and annoy you.”

How old was this kid? He had the maturity of a ten-year-old. Tim sighed, blowing a little bit of dust around his face, causing a light cough to leave his throat. Then he cleared his throat and began to tell the story of Jurassic Park all those years ago, still burning bright in his mind like the way the fence lit up on his hands. Telling the story to anyone else, he would have already been in tears. Except with Garrett, he held them back, shaking slightly in his seat but not enough for someone to notice. He was experiencing some feelings of PTSD, sure, but he was more so enraged at Garrett for being so forward. With a shuddering breath, he raised his head and eyes to look at the boy, who had a look of interest and fear plastered onto his face.

“Does that satisfy you?”

“Y-yes, sir. I’ll-I’ll go keep working.” And Garrett scurried off, hardly speaking to Tim for the remainder of the dig.

[flashback end]

Unlike the Tim in the story, present-day Tim sitting in front of his girlfriend was crying by the time he finished telling the story. Now the crying was a mix of PTSD as well as letting out the frustration he felt at Garrett that day. He had his hands gripped on the footrest of your shared bed, heaving over it with tears rolling down his face. You suppressed the feelings you had for Garrett and lunged forward to your love, gripping him tightly around the torso. You stood up on your knees so Tim had space to shove his head into your neck and cry to his heart’s content, and he did just that. You rubbed his back with one hand, mixing your motions between deep presses and light scratches with your nails, the other hand coming up to rub his neck and lightly play with the ends of his hair. Quietly shushing him, you could feel the tears start to deplete and his breath calm. It took a while this time, how long it usually takes if he has an attack because of the rain. This situation really got to him, and you could not help but feel like there was nothing you could do for him besides give him your undivided attention like always.

“Timmy, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. He was only coming on one dig, and I find it hard to believe that no one else on your dig heard or saw that conversation. Someone will speak to your supervisors about it. I can’t even begin to imagine how getting that question all the time must feel and what it must do to you, but that kid was just plain stupid. How he got into grad school will forever elude me.”

Tim chuckled lightly at this point. You knew you were getting your Tim back. A little bit more coaxing and you would be there.

“And besides, another thing he doesn’t realize is that your hands and what those marks mean don’t define you. Dr. Tim Murphy – paleontologist extraordinaire.” Tim was beaming up at you, eyes now glistening with adoration instead of tears. “I need to know that you understand that, Tim. You need to tell me that you know those scars don’t define you.”

“I know. I know that because of you.”

“Good. You’re my angel, Tim, the love of my life. I want to hit Garrett over the head with a seven-foot-long dinosaur bone, but for now I just need you here.”

Tim leaned up and kissed you sweetly on the lips, his way of saying ‘thank you.’ He was not an overly-big-gesture kind of guy, so small motions like that had become somewhat of a secret, second language for the two of you. Just like what you did afterwards. The hand that had been around his torso still came around to the front while you leaned back to sit on your calves, eyes half shut looking down at his stomach. Your hand came up right to where his heart was and, using your nails, you lightly grazed your hand down his chest to his lower abdomen, then turning around and going back up. Not making eye contact with him, you spoke quietly, not seeing that the adoration in his eyes had turned into something darker, but you heard the light whine move past his lips at your touch.

“My clever boy…”

The neat piles on your bed from his suitcase were long forgotten, and you both cursed yourselves in the morning when you woke up and there was hardly anywhere for you to walk.

While you two were eating breakfast the next morning, Tim casually brought up needing to run to the museum for something.

“My boss told me that at some point today, I need to make my way over to the museum to fill out some paperwork and double-check one of the displays. The stuff we found has been put up, and he just wants me to make sure it all looks okay and fix what doesn’t. Would you care to join me, love?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all. I love going to the museum, you know that.”

The rest of your morning was spent getting ready and making sure your guy’s cats had some food, treats, and toys to play with while you were out. Tim offered to drive, and you two eventually walked into his office where his paperwork would be situated. He told you that it should only take him about ten minutes to fill it out, so if you would not mind waiting for him, he would appreciate it. Normally, if he had paperwork, he did not care if you wandered around looking at the exhibits. When he was done, he would just text you and ask you where you were so he could come find you. Today was different. While it was true that his boss had told him to go fill in his paperwork, the part about him needing to check up on an exhibit was not as truthful. He really did mean that the things that were found on the dig were already up on display, but he had not told you the crowning jewel of the dig. Something that has not happened for the museum in years, and he wanted to show it to you. With his paperwork now complete, he took your hand and the two of you made your way to the Egypt section of the museum where the display was. It was an in-progress display, so some of the things that were in there you had already seen. Those were not the things you paid attention to. You looked for the couple things Tim had mentioned they found, the cups and the piece of hieroglyphic. Easily spotted toward the bottom of the display, you gave Tim a light nudge in the arm showing him just how proud you were of him and his team. Then your eye caught something else. There was another thing in the display that you did not remember seeing before. A fully intact skull with a few bones lying next to it. You looked at it with confusion, not recognizing the shape of the skull as a dinosaur Tim had ever talked about. You turned to him with your confused expression and he just looked back at you wide-eyed.

“What?”

“That skull, Tim. That wasn’t there before, was it?”

“Which one?”

You pointed to the skull and he took a look at it and then proceeded to the plaques in front of the display.

“Read… ah, this. I think this is where it is. Read it out loud, I’m going to continue looking and checking the display, love.”

You began to read.

“The skull of an Amareangelusops, alongside some bones considered to be part of the body. This omnivorous creature, based upon location found and bone structure, is considered to be a shyer species, one that would have only been about ten feet long and eight feet tall.” You continued to read the facts that the museum had established after DNA testing. Then you saw it. “This newly found species of dinosaur was discovered by Dr. Timothy Murphy—oh my god!”

Tim was now turned to face you, beaming wildly at you and trying his hardest not to laugh at your reaction. Your outburst had quieted down your section of the museum.

“Tim, did you not tell me about this? Did you find this on the dig you were just on?”

“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you. I thought you would be proud of me.”

“Proud doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling, Timmy! I can’t believe it! You discovered a freaking dinosaur! A new dinosaur! Wow, I might faint.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Y/N.”

“Except it is, Tim! You told me yourself when we first started dating; it is every paleontologist’s dream to have that moment where you find something and can name it yourself and feel proud that you contributed to world history! And you did that!” Then it dawned on you. “Wait… does that mean you picked the name? Amareangelusops?”

Tim smiled sweetly at you and nodded his head, it was clear to him you did not understand the name.

“You don’t get what it means, do you?”

“Not in the slightest, Tim.” You started laughing, making Tim laugh.

“Well, it’s actually pretty simple. But before I explain it, let me give you the context. You and I had just gotten off the phone, you were about to go to bed and I was already working, having no luck. Broke a brush right before calling you, too. Then I heard your voice, sleepy and ethereal. It made me so happy. You wished me luck before hanging up, and not an hour later, while I was still hearing your voice and seeing your face in my head, I found it. So, I chose a name that reflected what I was thinking about when I discovered it. The name can be broken down into three parts; amare, angelus, and ops. Ops is basically paleontologist talk for face, and I had your face in mind when I found it, remember? The other two parts are Latin words. Amare means love, and angelus means angel. You always call me your angel, and we call each other love all the time.”

“You… you’re saying you named a dinosaur after… me?”

“Yep.”

“I… don’t know what to say, Tim.”

“You don’t have to say anything. This is my gift to you for putting up with all my antics over the years. I love you.”

Your eyes were welling up with tears, and you felt Tim snake his arms around your waist and pull you tightly into him and kiss you on the top of your head.

“Thank you, Tim. I love you so much. You’re such an incredible scientist, and that Garrett kid is stupid and will never achieve something like this.” All of your words spilled out through choked-back sobs. You were so moved, and you could not help but wonder if his bosses asked him about the name.

“Did they ask you why you named it that?”

“Yeah…” He looked like he was getting embarrassed.

“And?”

“They called me a dork.”

You two laughed uncontrollably because while neither of you disagreed with Tim’s bosses, you were both so happy in the moment that nothing else mattered. You were happy to have your angelic dork right by your side as you made your way home.

#tim murphy #tim murphy x reader #tim murphy hammond #joe mazzello #joseph mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joseph mazzello x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jurassic park #museum #latin #fluff

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caffeineivore · 5 years

Text

Commission #5

For @lyrhiamoon, who prompted fluffy Christmastime Minako/Kunzite with bonus Artemis. A Hallmark Movie-esque meet-cute, if you will :P

Only Nicholas Abington-Bryce, the aging, irrascible founder of the Bryce Real Estate empire, would have the chutzpah to demand a house call from his lawyer a mere two days before Christmas. And indeed, even soulless lawyers have their limits. Kyle Grayson, however, never put much stock in the holiday, and though his idea of a good time undoubtedly entailed something other than making yet more painstaking and arbitrary adjustments to an already-elaborate will, that it was half-past three in the afternoon of the twenty-third of December did not faze him in the least. Kyle had been the old man’s lawyer for the last year and a half, and he did not expect anything more or less than to deal with a little hand-and-foot waiting. And when one had no family or close friends with whom to celebrate Christmas, that particular calendar day was much like any of the other 364 out of the year.

Of course, he did not particularly care to make the drive all the way to the palatial Abington-Bryce mansion all the way upstate. The old man had done his business in the city back in the day, but had retired to live out his golden years in a picturesque resort town mostly known for its ski slopes in the winter and its hiking trails in the summer. He still made the hour and a half journey into the city to meet with his board once a week, or perhaps to put Kyle through the paces if he felt like it, but on the phone call, he’d explained abruptly that he’d given his chauffeur the week off for the holiday. It had certainly not occurred to the old man to do such an outlandish thing as to drive himself into the city, and had Kyle suggested such a thing, it’s entirely possible that Nicholas Abington-Bryce would have reached through the phone and choked him to death for the impudence. And so it is that at the hour of four o’clock, Kyle pulls into the merging traffic bringing drivers away from the lights and liveliness of the big city and onto the expressway heading north.

The snow begins to fall in fat, feathery flakes about halfway through his commute, but Kyle grits his teeth and soldiers on. He had just gotten the pre-winter oil change and routine checkup on his car, and it boasted freshly rotated tires and brand new windshield wipers and a full tank of gas. The roads get increasingly slick the further he gets away from the city, but that is only to be expected. By the time he reaches the winding mountain roads which lead into the little podunk town in BFE, lane markings are all but obscured, and he has dropped his speed down to thirty miles per hour, then twenty-five as the winds howled and raged outside. The GPS had given him an estimated time of arrival of half-past five, but it is a good forty-five minutes past that when he finally pulls into the long, winding drive of the Abington-Bryce mansion.

The house is picturesque enough-- all red brick and slate-gray shutters and white columns adorning its front facade. A generous expanse of lawn is covered with the rapidly-falling snow, and white Christmas lights glow against the fringe of glittery icicles along the eaves and windows. The porch is flanked by neatly trimmed privet hedges and the main door is hung with a forest green wreath of pine boughs and holly. Stamping through snow that is almost certainly melting into and ruining his shoes, Kyle hunches his shoulders against the biting wind and rings the doorbell.

He would have been surprised if the cantankerous old man himself have answered the door, sure, because Nicholas Abington-Bryce definitely strikes him as the sort who likely spent his evenings in state seated in an easy-chair with a snifter of brandy and a cigar and a newspaper. A housekeeper would be more in-character, or perhaps a butler. Quiet, inobtrusive, judgmental, clad in neat black clothing. What he had not expected, though, was for the door to be pulled open by someone with a fountain of golden hair and a fuzzy sweater in a shade of candy-apple red, but before his mind could register much more than ‘young woman, blonde, very hot’, a white fluffy blur shoots straight at his legs.

“Artemis, NO!” Very Hot Blonde has a voice like silver bells, and it’s not at all effective in scolding what looks and feels like a very determined cat climbing its way up Kyle’s right leg, claws painfully searching for traction on the fabric and digging into his skin. Indeed, the cat ignores the woman and likely would have made his way all the way up to Kyle’s hip had she not huffed out a breath, stooped down and bodily yanked the beastie off. That doesn’t end well-- the move puts her face-level with his crotch, but before he could even stammer out something in mortification-- the cat yowls and digs in, and the sound of ripping fabric immediately follows. His pants, in very short order, look like something which would be found in some hipster designer bin. Very Hot Blonde, now holding onto the cat in a death-grip like a mother with a squirmy, hyperactive toddler, takes a step back, and looks up into his face, baby blue eyes wide and contrite.

“Oh, hi. I’m sorry, please come on in. I’m Mina, and this VERY BAD CAT WHO WILL GET NO TREATS is Artemis. I’d offer to shake hands, but I don’t want to let him go for an instant or he’ll jump on you again. He’s just being friendly, I promise!”

“... Am I at the right place?” Kyle asks belatedly, stepping into the foyer area. Overhead, a big, glittery crystal chandelier glints off the gold of her hair. “Is this the residence of Mr. Nicholas Abington-Bryce?” Certainly nothing in the old man’s demeanour or lifestyle suggested that he would feature unknown beautiful women and mischievous cats as a part of his household. “I’m Kyle Grayson, from Grayson and Burnett in New York City. I’m his lawyer.”

“Oh! Yes, he did call you to come today, didn’t he? I forgot, because it’s Christmas soon, and I’ve been getting ready since I’ve arrived two days ago. I’m Mina. But I said that already, didn’t I?” A pretty blush touches those flawless cheekbones, and Kyle has never before found himself charmed when faced with a flustered female. “That is to say, I’m Mina Abington, here to visit Grandpa Nicky from out of town. Do come in out of the cold so we can get you some hot cocoa and cookies. Do you like gingerbread?”

Kyle did not consider himself a hot cocoa and gingerbread type of guy, but surely the alternative was worse-- saying no to those big blue eyes, which happened to belong to the very-off-limits granddaughter of a client. Cautiously, he follows her in.

“We’ve just had dinner, Grandpa Nicky and I, but if you’d like a plate, I’ll be happy to get you one. We had broccoli-stuffed chicken breast and wild rice. You must be starving after that drive.”

“Doesn’t your grandfather want to see me? I am quite late, unfortunately. But the roads are getting pretty bad out there, and it couldn’t be helped.”

“I’m sure he will, but he’s taking a nap. He takes a nap after dinner every day, for about an hour. He’ll be up again in time to watch the seven o’clock news.” The fetching-- and since when did he use such plebeian terms as ‘fetching’-- Miss Mina Abington leads him into the kitchen with her cat still clutched in her arms, and beams a megawatt smile at the stout, apron-clad woman standing by the stove.

“Mrs. MacGregor, could I maybe please get you to put together a plate of dinner? For our guest? He’s come a long way and it’s so cold outside.”

Even as Kyle raises an eyebrow at the positively Dickensian descriptor for himself, Mrs. MacGregor harrumphs. “Are ye goin’ to take that bloody wee beastie out of me kitchen first?”

“I will do that in just a moment. He can keep Grandpa company, don’t you think?”

“I dinna care so long as he doesna get his wee paws into the fish again. Or the chicken. Or the ham. Or, indeed, the tatties, which he has no earthly use for, now does he?” Mrs. MacGregor waits until both girl and cat are out of the room, then turns a beady eye on Kyle. “Ye must be the lad from the law office in the city.”

Kyle cannot recall, at any point in his thirty-two years, ever being called a ‘lad’, but he nods in an awkward way. “Yes, my name is Kyle Grayson. I’m Mr. Abington-Bryce’s lawyer.”

“And have you been working for him for long?”

“For almost two years now. He’s always done business with our firm, but I took him on after I made partner. My predecessor was good golf buddies with Mr. Abington-Bryce before they’d both retired, as I understand it.”

In short order, Kyle finds himself more or less telling the grumpy Scotswoman his whole life story-- growing up in Connecticut, attending college and law school at Yale, moving to New York City after receiving his Juris Doctor and getting a job offer at the firm. She harrumphs again at random moments, but places a steaming cup of coffee and fragrant plate of food in front of him, and he’s hungrier than he thought, because by the time Mina walks in again, this time sans cat, he’s almost halfway through the plate. She beams at him in a way that makes him feel embarrassed for no good reason, then moves onto cajole Mrs. MacGregor for hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies.

It’s almost insidiously nice, and a distant clock strikes seven as he starts in on the cocoa and gingerbread, and that brings him back to reality with a jerk. “Look, Miss Abington, I’m not here to socialize. I’m here on behalf of your grandfather, my client, who is undoubtedly wondering where I am. I appreciate the hospitality, but I should definitely get to work before it gets even later. I still have a long drive back to the city.”

“Oh, do call me Mina, won’t you? I had a teacher in high school call me Miss Abington in a really snide way whenever I dozed off in her class, and considering it was Geometry, who could blame me, right? And certainly you must see to Grandpa’s business with you, but you’re not thinking of driving back in the blizzard, are you? The forecast says we’re supposed to get a foot of snow. Oh… you must have some plans for Christmas. Of course. It’s supposed to stop snowing by tomorrow morning, and hopefully by tomorrow afternoon we’ll be plowed out.”

“I don’t have plans for Christmas, but I can’t really just impose on you guys, either.” Kyle finds himself inordinately fascinated by the rapidly changing expressions on her face, and at this latest statement, she looked as though someone had kicked her troublemaker cat across the icy street straight into a snowdrift.

“No plans for Christmas? But… but…how?!”

Kyle shrugs, a bit disturbed that it seems to matter so much to her. “I just don’t. Anyway, I should get to work. Where is your grandfather, Miss… Mina?”

“In the den. Here, follow me.” Still looking very sad and lost, she leads the way, and Kyle gets an impression of a cavernous, well-kept home all buffed hardwood floors and antique furniture polished to a gleam. The den features a roaring fireplace complete with boughs of holly festooning the mantel and a towering Christmas tree glittering with ornaments and ribbons and lights, festively topped with an angel with golden hair not unlike Mina’s. Nicholas Abington-Bryce is seated in an easy chair, looking not unlike a Bond villain or a Mafia boss in his Italian suit, the fluffy white monster of a cat quite docilely perched on his lap and purring loudly. The cat, Kyle notices with not a little bit of resentment, seems to have no inclination of sharpening its claws on his pant legs.

“Ah, Mr. Grayson. You have arrived.” The old man stands, dislodging the cat on his lap. It zeroes in on Kyle once again, but seems a bit friendlier this time, choosing instead to wind circles around his ankles. Or perhaps attempting to trip him. Either way, between the rips and the cat hairs, his trousers are destined for the trash heap. Kyle manfully attempts to move his way across the room without tripping over the animal, and shakes the old man’s hand.

“Yes, I’m here, as you requested. When did you want to get started on the work?”

“After we finish watching the news, of course.” Nicholas, now that the formalities have been observed, plunks right back down in his chair, gestures Kyle towards the plush white loveseat where Mina is already sitting with a peremptory hand. “One must keep abreast of what’s going on in the world, you know? The work will wait until we’re done here. At my age, young man, there’s nothing left but time. Now hush.”

A glance at the screen of the gigantic wall-mounted television screen shows an accounting of what looks to be the latest Kardashian-Jenner escapade. Kyle seats himself gingerly next to the girl, and as the cat now makes himself quite at home by crawling its way back up into his lap, he resigns himself to a long night ahead. At this proximity, Mina’s thigh brushes against his, and he can smell the scent of her hair-- something sweet and warm, like wild honeysuckle and vanilla. She laughs at the Kardashian antics on the screen, and the thought occurs to him that her voice is far more suited for laughter than for scolding or recriminations. And he absolutely doesn’t know her at all, nor has any business thinking or noticing anything about her voice, or the scent of her hair. In his lap, the cat fixes piercing blue eyes upon his face, as though suspiciously trying to ascertain his intentions towards its mistress.

Kyle sighs. A very, very long night ahead. And if the weather report, as being delivered by an unnaturally chipper redhead in a skirt suit on the screen, is accurate to any degree, he’s very well and truly stuck. There’d be no navigating his sleek but seldom-used Lexus through the snowdrifts if he left now, and they’d probably find his dead body after the spring thaw. He’d have to spend at least one night under the same roof as his most demanding client and quite possibly the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he didn’t even have a toothbrush or a change of clothes.

Bah freaking Humbug indeed.

#m/k #senshi/shitennou #sailor moon #fanfiction #fanfic #commission #lyrhiamoon

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