#you're barely guaranteed one season

[rasticore]

i'm actually surprised people are complaining that "the hotel isn't important" cause i always felt like it was just a means to get the characters together and the plot going

[yostresswritinggirl]

Chase the Mirage

pairing -> Cyno x Adventurer!Reader x Tighnari; poly

word count -> 2.4k+ words

themes -> fluff, established relationship, scenarios and headcanons

(masterlist) (next) Two Akademiya giants, infatuated and hooked to a simple adventurer from the Adventurer's Guild. Absurd as it may seem, for Cyno and Tighnari, their lover is simply lovable like that.

Cyno and Tighnari.

Two prominent names in the Akademiya and Sumeru as a whole, regarded almost in a legendary manner.

When gossipers so willing to waste time on talking about other people's lives speak about the two's romance divinations, they always guessed that they would either be with someone who has the same academic prestige or none at all.

It was only when facts surfaced did they realize that the former was accurate, if only for half of it, at least. Never would they have imagined that THAT person from the Adventurer's Guild, the one adventurer practically glued to the hip with how they frequently take on their commissions, would be romantically involved with - not one - but BOTH of them!

Scary Serious Cyno and Strict Tighnari, and in between is some insignificant, unremarkable, UNEDUCATE-

"I strongly advise you keep that mouth shut." The table of scholars shied away from the polearm embedded in the table in front of them.

"If not for my sharp ears, I would have thought you lot were talking about yourselves," a second voice spoke followed by a hand laying upon the shoulder of the gossiper, grip tightening after every emphasized word. "Insignificant. Unremarkable. Uneducated. Amurta scholars too? What a disappointing batch you are."

Ungloved hands came into view to retrieve the polearm with barely any difficulty, and those who dared raise their heads were swiftly met with a fiery glare, burning them like the sinners they are. Even if not on paper, they felt like they had to atone for something far greater than they anticipated.

"You're lucky that today's a vacation day." A pause. "Forget it, not even worth the joke, what you said was already laughable."

"No need, they've already made a fool of themselves anyways. Besides, we have places to be." And their footsteps echoed throughout the House of Daena as they left, catching the last bits of their conversation before the double doors shut close behind them.

"The joke I thought up in the moment was quite good though."

"I don't want to hear it."

It was true that they were lucky that day, a blessing to have survived, but the rest of the week was devastatingly horrible. Numerous matras catching their gazes, getting banned from Pardis Dhyai seminars that were already as exclusive as they can be; they were more on edge that week compared to the weeks they had an important exam on. And so from one word of mouth to the next, an unofficial rule became sacred.

No matter how absurd it may seem - Cyno, Tighnari, and your relationship, is no laughing matter.

And archons forbid if you were the one to overhear such things. Punishment is always guaranteed when your feelings are hurt.

About Their Worries:

Despite their trust in your capabilities, being an adventurer still puts you in a significant amount of danger no matter how seasoned you are with the craft. At the start, they would coax you to train your combat skills with them, even urging you to practice with their weapons - even if it's not your preferred armament.

There would be a clearing in the forest where you practice, usually with Collei when she feels that her bow skills are lacking. Tighnari and Cyno were content on watching or talking on the side in the beginning, letting you and Collei learn by yourselves, helping each other, etc.

But when you managed to somehow shoot yourself on the foot, none of them trusted you to be alone with a bow ever since.

At times when you do end up getting injured, they'll be doting as they are scolding, genuinely worried for you.

But despite being a simple human, you're also quick to dispel their worries, always rising up every time you fall and assuring them that it's not the end of the world.

There's a worry in their eyes that you can't quite place and they can't quite word, but no matter the doubts festering in their mind, you always find a way to make them smile with your own. "I guess I just used up all my luck by having two magnificent men as my boyfriends, I can't really complain!"

They'll shake their head in exasperation but with a fond smile on their face. On the rare occasions that things did get too dire, you just let them do their thing.

Let them care for you, let them worry about you, let them spend what little free time they have with you; anything to appease them until they're confident that something like that won't happen again.

About Commissions:

Yet even when they had permitted you to go back to your commissions, there's still a bit of their influence hanging over your shoulder.

Like how suddenly all the available commissions are tame in comparison to the ones you dealt with prior to getting injured, how Katheryne kept exclaiming that there are no missions outside of Sumeru available at the time, or how Kamal won't look you in the eye when you realized your usual commissions are now of a lower rank than what you're capable of.

Their scheming became much more apparent when a special commission opened up that specifically requests your assistance.

"They need an extra set of hands to help prepare for a seminar in Pardis Dhyai today."

"Probably just to doll up the place. Who should I approach there, the contact?"

"Yes, it's - " Katheryne starts on auto-pilot, only to halt her own words and shut her mouth in obvious hesitance. That was one of the oddities of today. "It's not specified but I'm sure you can just ask around." You nodded slowly with a skeptical stare, that of which the receptionist ignored by turning to the shelf behind her.

It was only when you saw an uncharacteristically smiley Tighnari standing by the pathway to the site did all the weirdness of today finally click into place. At the sight of your unamused stare, his toothy smile became more smug. "It's nice to see you again, dearest." Followed by him ruffling your hair.

"Tighnari, I was with you and Cyno yesterday." A pause. "Is there even a seminar - "

"But of course! I'm not that foolish to lie to you, now come on, we have hundreds of chairs to lay out." They've done this a million times by now. You know, oh you know for sure that they didn't really need an extra hand to set things up - but when your Forest Watcher took your hand and guided you inside, excitedly talking about today's lecture (where he's the speaker, mind you!), you simply squeezed his hand and let him be.

The rest of your day was expertly derailed after Tighnari convinced you to stay in the duration of the seminar, unable to refuse and as such, your other commissions had to be done the next day. At least the celebration feast for a job well done that day was delicious...

Shortly after hearing about this stunt, your other boyfriend thought it was a good idea to replicate it!

Cyno was ever so thankful that you were gullible when it comes to his advances.

"Save your energy, it's a long walk back. If you have any final words, save them for judgment day."

The terrified scholar had lost all will to talk back from the terrifying glare the General Mahamatra had upon looking down at him, frozen in fear as his hands gripped the burning sand below. Sensing that he wasn't getting up anytime soon, Cyno was about to speak again when a groan from behind took their attention.

"Archooons, you ran off so far, I don't think I can walk back that far again," you whined as you plopped your ass on the sand in front of the scholar. "Can we take a quick break? I'm already out of water... Hey, do you have any water left?"

The shift in tone and personality between you two was... Jarring. Still frozen but not out of fear, the scholar dumbly blinked at your stretching form, looking at him expectantly.

Only when the General stepped close to retrieve his staff did he finally snap out of his trance, looking up to see a stern glare still pointed at him, which flicked over to you for a second to send the message. Right, you asked for water. "I-I think I still have some, yes!" His shaky hands made quick work to retrieve his waterskin, uncapping it for you before handing it over.

"Ahh, you're a blessing in disguise! Thank you!" Graciously taking the waterskin, you were about to drink when Cyno suddenly snatched it out of your hand, earning a 'hey!' from his robbery. But instead of taking the water for himself, the white-haired man simply wiped inside and around the mouth of the waterskin with a spare cloth before handing it back to you.

The reprimanded scholar lived to tell the tale of the sight of the General Mahamatra giving his lover a piggyback ride through the desert, while you wore his headdress to cover your overheating brain. Had it not been for the consequences he faced that day, the scholar would have simply thought that the whole ordeal was a hallucination. If there were doubts about the authenticity of your relationship, that tale gradually diminished the doubters.

About Adventuring:

Of course, there would still be times where their stunts can't keep you near for too long, like commissions outside of Sumeru or simply your desire to go to the other regions.

There's a whole world out there, wondrous and colorful, it's just a shame that neither of them had the free time to see it.

But they know their boundaries and they respect your desires, after all, you're still an adventurer first and foremost. Adventure is in your heart, they only came after and squeezed themselves in. It was your duty as an adventurer that brought you to them and they are grateful for that.

So to stall for time a little bit and show you just how much they would miss you, Cyno and Tighnari usually packs your bag for you on these occasions. Their own little touch reminding you of them even through the simplest of things:

Tighnari always made sure that you have a small medicine kit in your person at all times, little vials filled with organic medicine he prepped himself if you were to fall ill or injure yourself on your journey, where he wouldn't be able to tend to you. There's a mini handbook for it too, explaining the contents, its use, application and how frequent you can use it.

By this time, you must have remembered these homemade medicine by heart already, what with Tighnari lecturing you about them as frequently as he could. But the adorable notes together with the pressed flowers always had you smiling whenever you take it out.

There would also be a random flower well-preserved and sneakily tucked in to your bag, just to drive home how much he misses you and wants you to miss Sumeru enough to come back to them. Make sure to keep the flower safe and bring it back to him when you come back, the smile you receive when you ask him to make it into a bookmark is out of this world.

Tighnari also makes sure you bring enough rations to last you until you reach the next town, filling up your flask with cold water so you don't dehydrate. Sometimes, there'll be warm pita pockets in your bag freshly made by Collei just for you! Just make sure to eat them immediately or else it'll spoil in your bag.

Cyno, he... Well, there's a joke book there, what else do you expect? Well not exactly, more like a joke notepad that you're supposed to read strictly once a day! This is one of the reasons why your lover always asks the exact days that you'll be gone, and makes sure to prepare a joke a day for you to read, like a daily gospel of some sorts.

He wants to make you laugh even when he's not there, and so he makes sure to fill the pad with good material that will surely make you smile. However, unlike his usual jokes, these ones were more loving and yearning. Conveying the underlying desperation of him missing you as the days go by:

"If you were a criminal, I wouldn't have let you go." "You're going to Inazuma, right? Make sure to bring back some snacks, I've been laven-der melons from there." "I love you to the moon and back... But a shorter journey would be preferable."

It's very apparent to everyone around them that you're out of Sumeru for a while - not just because you're obviously not there, but with how they both are around each other more often than not.

Tighnari is quick to be irate, and the General tends to bury himself with Matra work, those days were hell for even minor offenders in the Akademiya. Tense air follows them like a Withering Zone manifests wherever they walk, and it is always a blessing whenever you're back home.

A few steps away from the Akademiya, Tighnari's ears straightened up and twitched suddenly, followed by Cyno's nose wrinkling in recognition. These footsteps and scent -

"Cyno! Tighnari!" The two in question cringed when you stumbled on your own two feet from running, clearly exhausted from the heavy gasps leaving your lungs. But you still made it over to them, hair in disarray and adventurer's uniform skewed here and there, with that smile they've been missing for a month now. "I'm back!"

Chuckling to themselves, Tighnari took the heavy bag off of you while Cyno made it his mission to pat your hair down. "How did your trip go?" And with each hand in their own, the three of you walked out of the city side-by-side, serious Cyno and strict Tighnari freely smiling as they listen to you excitedly rant about your adventure.

Two Sumeru big shots in love with a significant, remarkable, lovable adventurer.

No doubt about it.

I almost went wild and made a whole ass series for this. But no, I must not tempt fate. But damn, this fic is not enough to hold all my thoughts for this.

[happilychaengs]

volleyball

college volleyball player momo x reader

word count: 1.2k

barely about volleyball tbh, mentions of a toxic ex, swearing, angst kind of?, fluff?, i'm not sure what to call this and tbh idk if this fic is even remotely good lmk i guess

of all the places that momo could've dragged you to, you would have never expected her to drag you into your campus gymnasium, which is also used as the sports arena sometimes, when she said that she had a whole date planned out.

"didn't you say... we had a date?" your voice barely reaches momo's ears through the sounds of the balls sharply hitting the floor, shoes squeaking against the rubber.

"i did say volleyball, right?" momo glances over and you have a look on your face that almost guarantees that she didn't, "right... i didn't. i'm sorry."

you let go of momo's hand as you huff, trying to slip away from the arena. momo quickly catches your hand again, her eyes looking up to meet your now pissed off gaze, your back turned towards her.

"what?" the tone you spoke in sent shivers down her back.

momo's almost scared to let any words escape her mouth, "could... could you stay - i mean you don't have to, but - nevermind." her shoulders slump in defeat, half convinced that you were too mad at her to stay. it was the final game of the season, and for once she wanted you to see her play. even if it was only for a few minutes.

your heart sinks, your earlier demeanor now cast aside. "okay."

momo's head bolts upright and you swore you could've seen stars form in her eyes as her whole body crashes into yours, her arms pulling you in for a tight hug. "really? you mean it?"

your voice chokes out, your hands quickly tapping her shoulder for her to loosen her hold, which she quickly does, mumbling a low apology, "yes..., but you have to make it up to me for not telling me what we were doing."

she nods sheepishly, running her mouth as she held your hand, walking you to the bleachers, "okay, so volleyball-" and everything that she said passed you like a blur. she explained the rules of the sport which you already forgot, the roles and everything, you only remembering she was a libero, all the while introducing her team mates to you, which honestly, you can only remember nayeon because she once spiked the ball in your face on accident when you attended momo's practice for a few minutes. she stared at you with a hint of embarrassment, her head down as momo sat you down next to the scorekeeper, who momo introduced you to, jihyo, saying she got you an extra special seat closer to the court.

momo can't help but jump up and down, knowing you're watching her as jihyo rolls her eyes, swatting momo away, "you're about to start, go get changed."

momo does a stupid salute with a bright smile on her face before running to the lockers, leaving you alone with jihyo. she taps away at her phone for a few minutes before she turns her head to you, her phone face down on the table. "how is momo?"

the sudden start of conversation catches you by surprise, "she's... good. why?"

"i was just curious because i haven't seen her that happy in... a few years, to be honest."

your eyebrows furrow, "years?"

"we've known each other since we were kids. we were neighbors and all that and... in highschool, she had an ex - thankfully who isn't near us anymore - who hurt her pretty bad." your eyes widen, never hearing this from your girlfriend before, "her name - literally kills me to say her name at this point, was maddie."

"what did she do?"

you hear nayeon specifically yell at momo, who's now dressed in her jersey and doing some warm up drills, from across the court to receive better, momo sticking out her tongue in response.

"she was such a bitch." jihyo sighs and leans back in her chair, eyes wandering around the court, "she manipulated momo more times than i could count - even slapped her at one point."

your jaw almost drops, "are you serious?"

jihyo nods solemnly, "she didn't let momo leave her sight sometimes, even for practice, and uhm... she got extremely possessive at one point."

the bell rings throughout the arena, every player in position except momo. she's sprinting onto the court, fixing her shirt before standing next to nayeon, who flicks her head giving her a whole lecture.

"so... what happened?"

"momo almost quit volleyball to meet her reckless demands." jihyo repeats in a forced voice, mocking momo's ex, "'i don't give a fuck what you're doing, quit! you need to stay by my side!' she told momo that and god, i fucking hated that bitch and her stupid voice."

and no matter how stupid it sounded to anyone else, momo cherished volleyball over everything in the world and both you and jihyo knew that. she grew up playing the sport playing beach volleyball with her father and at one point her closet was only filled with dirty, deflated volleyballs she kept as memorabilia before she had to put it all in a box to move in with her roommate. she literally lived, laughed, and breathed the sport. to be almost stripped away from it, you couldn't believe it.

"are you serious?"

jihyo breathes out a small sigh, "yeah. she sucked."

all the players on the court shook hands, before a member from each team came up to rock, papers, scissors, the other team winning the ball.

"why did she never tell me?"

"i... she - i don't think she wants you to feel bad for her." jihyo sits up again, the game about to start, "i only told you because i felt like you deserved to know, but i don't want you to treat momo any different than you have. she's happy with you."

momo gets into position, knees bent and arms out as she smiles at you like a dope, not realizing the whistle blew as a ball flew into her face, putting her on the floor. you shot up from your seat, heart almost dropping as nayeon runs over to her, worried.

momo's nose is bleeding, her wincing as she wiped it, still smiling like a dope and sticking her thumb up.

"does this always happen to her?" worry washes over you.

"eyes on the ball, stupid!" jihyo stands up from her chair as she shouts at her from across the court before turning to you, her voice a lot quieter than it just was, "don't mind her. she does this every time."

the both of you sit down again, exhaling a sigh as jihyo flips the score. "i'm not going to treat her any differently, but... thank you for telling me."

jihyo gives you a light smile before the whistle blows again, momo getting a warning for taunting the other team too much.

"seriously though, she is stupid."

momo's covered in sweat, her panting as she ran up to you, the rest of her teammates going to the lockers. "did... did you see that? we won!" she has an impossibly bright smile on her face as you give her a tight hug, momo trying to push you off, "wait, i'm really sweaty - y/n, please-"

"i'm really proud of you." even though it was an borderline embarrassing statement to say aloud, you still said it, trying to push your embarrassment away.

momo gives up on trying to push you away as she slips into your embrace deeper, her features softening, "thank you."

[akidaki]

✩✩✩ TUNE IN FOR LOVE

park sunghoon x fem! reader

wherein park sunghoon decides to take love advice from the broadcasting club's "101 ways to woo your beloved **foolproof** **success 100% guaranteed (swear on my mother)**" podcasts in hopes of "wooing" you; unbeknownst to him, you're the one writing the script with the intention of sabotaging anyone dumb enough to actually listen to said podcasts...

status: coming soon ⸻ updates: weekly? barely, more like monthly... ⸻ taglist: open

note: this was going to be a bllk smau (either sae or rin) but i simply am not interested in bllk anymore

another note: i had to scour the deepest darkest places on the internet (4chan) to find bad dating advice (cuz i'm just such a good dater) so please don't take any of this advice seriously...

tags: one sided enemies to lovers, pining, very bad decision-making, high school au, non idol au

featuring: all of enhypen + yunjin (lsf) + dayeon (kp1) + ningning (æ) + jeongin (skz) + sunwoo (tbz) + others may be added later

warnings: swearing, kys/kms jokes, questionable humour, out of character cuz i lowkey know nothing abt enhypen…

⸻ 44th groupchat ⸻ virgin territory

season one: a misguided guide to love

⸻ episode one: newjeans, famines and first dates

⸻ episode two: snakes in the bio labs

season two: love error

season three: love? actually?

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 4

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When he starts being less of an asshole, and more of a person, Parker finds that he isn't so bad. Not that she would tell him that, though.

read the story here: prev / next

Parker doesn't get much sleep. Not necessarily because she's so busy that she doesn't have time, and not definitively because of the sleep disorder she has self-diagnosed off of a sketchy website she found while browsing her symptoms one day.

In truth it's because she thinks too much.

She overthinks what her to-do list for the following week should be; overthinks the plot of her favorite tv series and whether or not they are going to kill off her favorite character in the mid-season finale; overthinks whether she should spend more one-on-one time with her brother while they're both in the same city, able bodied (with his career, there was no guarantee), and with the time to waste on stupid memories. On the really bad nights, Parker overthinks whether or not she made a mistake in purchasing an old, dilapidated bookstore that has drained her bank account over the last couple of years. She worries that her life is going nowhere, that she'll soon have failed at her dream venture, and that when she dies, she'll have no accomplishments to her name.

On those nights, she ends up washing down a handful of melatonin gummies with two boiling cups of sleepy time tea.

It helps, but it also leaves her floating in a state between unconsciousness and squirrely dreams that is hard to shake off in the morning.

Harder still to shake off when her phone lights up the room in the middle of the night, the shrill song of her ringtone bleating through the pitch black of her bedroom shocking her awake in delirious fright.

You gotta get up, gotta get out, gotta get home before the...

Parker swings her hand towards the nightstand in such a rush that she ends up knocking her cellphone onto the ground. It bounces on the hardwood floor—she doesn't even care if it breaks, the damn thing—before skidding underneath her bed. The light from it casts shadows in all directions.

What if I'm late? Gotta big date, gotta get home...

It takes her half crawling out of bed, sheets tangled around her bare legs, elbow braced on the cold floor as she blindly grapples for the device to find it. Colt always made fun of her ringtone—if you're going to pick a song, at least pick a good one, he would taunt while listening to Taylor Swift on replay—and while Parker had adamantly told him where to stick his opinion, at the moment, the song blaring in the middle of the night has her half-prepared to scratch out of her own eardrums in frustration.

The stanza continues: before the morning comes...

She grabs the phone and wrenches it—and herself—back onto the bed. The number isn't saved in her phone, and panic wells in her chest. She's gasping as blood rushes back down to her toes. "Hello?"

"Jesus, finally. I thought you weren't going to fucking answer."

Whether it's the tea, the overdose of melatonin, or the fact that she had just been woken up in the middle of the night, Parker can't seem to make sense of much. The only thing she can think about is how she has a brother who does stupid stuff for money, and has called her from the back of ambulance three times and counting.

Once on her birthday.

"Oh my god," she mutters, a hand already clutching to her chest as she can feel the cavity caving in. Clarity has no place in her spiraling panic. "Oh my god, he's finally dead, isn't he? Oh my god, Colt is dead!"

"What the fuck are you on about?" the voice interrupts her panic with a modicum of disbelief. It sounds familiar, but Parker is far more focused on regulating her breathing before she throws up than placing a voice through her half-broken speaker. The room, pitch black and without anything to see, is spinning. "I'm not even with Colt."

"Fuck," she curses, before recklessly scrabbling with her nightstand. It's a total fucking mess, and in her haste, she knocks a lamp and stack of books onto the ground. The least of her problems if her idiot of a brother is already fucking dead. "Fuck! Where are you? I didn't even know he was on a job right now. Um, what hospital is he at? Wait—shit—I need to find a pen and paper..."

"Parker, Jesus, Colt's fine. Stop spinning out for two seconds. Are you on drugs?"

She blinks, unsure if she just heard what she heard, and slowly withdrawals her hand as she tries to compute what is being said.

"He's... not dead?" she croaks hesitantly.

"He's fine. I mean, well, as far as I know," the voice drones on; it's clearly annoyed now. A scoff. "Why in the hell would you assume that he's dead?"

"Because—it's—" she wipes a hand over her face tiredly, sweeping tufts of hair off her forehead to peer at the clock in the corner. Large, red numbers blink at her showing that she had only been asleep for two and a half hours. Worse still when she makes sense of what she's seeing. "It's two thirty in the morning! Why the fuck would an unknown number be calling me in the middle of the night if it wasn't for Colt?"

"Are you—wait—are seriously his emergency contact?" the voice goads, teasing and judging all in one tone. She hates it. "That's a little pathetic, honestly."

Her left eye twitches. "Who the fuck is this?"

"It's Tom."

Parker doesn't know a Tom, she's never known a Tom in the entirety of her life, and as she struggles to clear her thoughts, the idea that some asshole with a stupid name like Tom would call her out of the blue at this time of night starts to really piss her off.

"Tom who? I don't know a fucking Tom!" she shouts into the receiver.

There's a thump against the wall, a muffled call of "shut the fuck up!" rings out from her roommate's room. Too many things are happening though, and Parker clutches her head between her hands while trying to stay on topic.

"Fucking Tom Ryder, smartass," the voice chides. "Who else?"

And—

Fuck.

Yeah, alright, maybe she did know a Tom, and, yeah, now that she thought about it, he was a raging, grade-A asshole that would call someone up in the middle of the night for no reason other than to ruin the first good sleep she had in a week. All while getting upset at her for her negative response to the impromptu gab-sesh.

You know, in the way that all assholes did.

"Why—?" she starts, before realizing that she is shouting. Parker clears her throat with a glance towards the wall and tries a second time in an angry hiss. "Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning, Ryder?"

"I finished the book and I want to talk about it."

The words don't compute for half a second, but when they do, Parker can feel a migraine spiraling behind her eyes. She sort of feels like she's having a seizure before realizing that it's just pure anger spiking in the bottom of her chest.

She's pretty sure this is how someone feels right before committing a violent crime.

"Are you—? I was fucking sleeping!" she hisses. "Good—fucking—bye!"

Hanging up the phone certainly isn't as satisfying as it used to be when flip phones were in fashion, and you could slam the top down to end a conversation. But pressing the big red END button on Tom Ryder does grant her a small moment of satisfaction. Even more so when she imagines the shocked furrow of his eyebrows or the crease of his mouth as he frowns.

Good, she thinks sourly while flopping back onto her pillows with a sharp huff, maybe Tom Ryder could use a few wrinkles in his life.

Her peace lasts all of twenty seconds.

You gotta get up, gotta get out, gotta get home before the morning...

Parker grabs a pillow and smushes it against her face hoping that it will drown out the noise. When it doesn't, she hopes that maybe suffocation will knock her out for a couple hours of sleep. But then there's another thump against the wall and she realizes that if she dies right here and now, the last person she would have ever talked to would be Tom fucking Ryder, and she's not so sure she's okay with that.

So, she removes the pillow to take a deep breath. Then she answers the phone.

"Did you just hang up on me?" he asks incredulously.

"It is two-thirty in the morning, and you want to talk about a book?"

A huff. "Yes. Why else would I ever call you?"

If she was more awake, Parker might have taken offense at the insult. She's much too groggy to do that, though. Besides, almost everything out of his mouth was some sort of judgement. At this point, she didn't think he would be able to speak without being rude.

"Couldn't you have called me during a normal hour?"

"My audition is on Friday," he said, as if that was any sort of excuse for his behavior. "I still have to read the other two books by then."

"Wait, I'm sorry," Parker interjects with a mean laugh, pausing to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Have you been up all-night reading?"

"You could sound a little less judgmental about it," he snarks. "I do read, you know. Bad scripts and the like."

She huffs. Not quite a laugh, but not just an expression either. It's a little hard to take anything serious when she's sleep-deprived and delirious. And, certainly, he can't be serious. That's her justification for giving up, anyway. "Okay, alright, fine. Which book did you finish?"

"Contact."

"That's a good one to start with," Parker murmurs, shifting on her mattress so she can cradle her PillowPet.

It has lost of all of its stuffing, an eye, and any joy it once had, but the penguin was a gift from Colt that she can't convince herself to trash. It mirrors her frown.

"No, not a good one. I didn't understand it at all."

"What didn't you understand?"

"Any of it, all of it. Why the hell did you tell me that Dune was too complicated and then hand me this shit?" he complains. There's something odd in his tone though. Something she can hear creeping through the syllables somewhere between annoyed and confused that reminds her of their conversation weeks prior at Gail's—you don't even sound like yourself, she had said. It's only now that she realizes he hadn't sounded like himself because he was doubting himself, which was the most un-like Tom Ryder thing anyone could ever do. She frowns at the thought as he continues. "It's all about math and pi and something called a transcendental number. I should have just watched Altered Carbon."

Parker sighs. "You're getting yourself all worked up over things that don't matter."

"Don't matter? It's all the book fucking talks about!"

"That's sci-fi," she says. And while it's a piss poor excuse, it's the truth. A moment later and Parker realizes that if he really had never read anything sci-fi before, he likely wouldn't realize the rules of reading it. Sighing, she takes some pity on him to explain, "okay, look. You know when you watch an action film and there's some ridiculous sequence that makes no sense; like when the ground is crumbling beneath their feet and the character jumps at the last second and is totally okay?"

"Like in the Fast and the Furious."

"Literally every single scene in those movies."

"Okay...?"

"Right, well, you watch those scenes and tell yourself not to take them seriously. They exist because it's an action movie, right? It doesn't have to be realistic."

"Sure," he agreed, but she could tell he still wasn't getting the point.

"It's the same thing when you're reading sci-fi. Okay? All the math and theoretical physics and calculations they do—whatever it is—they throw that stuff in there to build up a universe that feels real. The audience doesn't have to understand quantum mechanics to know that Chris Pine can fly a really big spaceship in Star Trek."

"You really have a hard-on for Chris Pine, huh?"

Parker ignored his comment entirely, barreling on. "The point of the book is not that the audience is stupid and needs to take some math classes even if that's how it feels sometimes. The point is that Ellie is a genius that no one else understands or believes in. When she talks about transcendental numbers and you have no idea what she means, that's exactly how the other characters in the book feel. They don't believe her because they don't understand her."

"So, it's... like an attempt to make the audience sympathize with her but also so the author can explain how everything happens."

Parker smiles. "Right."

"That's stupid," he says, and her smile immediately disappears behind a groan. "I just don' think the author needed to spend so much time trying to sound smart."

"It's a book about interstellar travel and the existence of intelligent life," she deadpans. "It's supposed to sound smart."

Tom mulls that over, and while he does so, Parker shifts once more in bed. The red numbers blink at her are only going up, but now that her heart rate has returned to a normal level, she finds it's far from the worst conversation she's had with Tom. Especially since she gets to talk about one of her favorite books.

Even if he is an ass.

"This would have been better as a movie," he finally settles on. It's not a sophisticated opinion by any means, but it certainly is him.

"Actually, it was originally written to be a screenplay. The movie got cancelled, and Sagan adapted it into a book."

"Seriously?"

"Sure," she shrugs. She spares a glance towards her nightstand where a copy of the book lays in tatters from how often she has read it. "Ironic considering the book became so popular that it got a second movie deal a few years later."

"...you're telling me that I could have watched this instead of reading it after all?" he barks. But, well, his tone isn't so annoyed as it sounds impressed. Parker hears the taping of buttons on a remote, before he's yelling. "Jodie Foster! Seriously?"

She can't help it. Parker laughs. "It's not a bad movie, but the book is way better."

"I have to watch this now."

"I have a copy you can borrow if you don't want to rent it."

"It's three dollars. How poor are you, exactly?"

She scoffs, an eye roll that has become habit when talking to the prick even though he can't see it. Snootily, she tells him, "I just rolled my eyes at you, asshole. In case you were wondering."

A harrumph. "I do think I caught something from your bookstore. I've been sick all day. It's disgusting—it's making my mouth all dry and it practically ruined my breakfast. I couldn't even eat my avocado."

"First the cappuccino, and now the avocado. Is there anything you don't blame me for?"

The teasing got the exact reaction she wanted, and as Tom starts complaining on the other end of the line, Parker smothers a laugh into her penguin. "It was a flat white! And—"

"I'm going to hang up on you now," she sing-songed. "And fair warning: if you call me again before eight am, I'm going to post your phone number on Reddit. Gail can eat shit with her lawsuit."

"Don't you fucking—"

Parker finds a lot more satisfaction in hanging up on Tom Ryder the second time, and when the phone screen stays dark, she plops it down onto her nightstand with an amused hum. It's past three am now, something she will be regretting come morning.

Then again, it seemed that Tom Ryder was all about regrets.

Right?

----

"Do you think I'm cool?" Parker ponders two days later, a glance tossed to her brother as she idly tries on a pair of sunglasses that are in the shape of trout. They're overpriced, but she's also incredibly bored, and about five minutes away from throwing a toddler-style meltdown in the middle of the bait and tackle shop.

"Of course you're cool," he says as he models a rash guard that he's been trying on for the last half hour. He twists in the mirror, left and right, before giving himself two thumbs up. There's something dangerous about the way he grins at her. "You have me for a brother, after all. Coolest kid on the block. Always have been, always will be."

"Right. Didn't they call you Shitpants in high school?"

A passing employee coughs into their hand to hide their laugh, and Colt turns a bright red.

"She's totally joking. They didn't call me that, my nickname was something totally different," he calls after the retreating sales associate, always attempting to save face but never quite succeeding. A moment later and he's glaring at his sister. "That was one time, and it was an accident. The potato salad was—"

"Bad," Parker finishes for him with an eyeroll. "Yeah, I know. I've heard the story."

"Then why do you insist on bringing it back up all the time?" he hissed.

There isn't much activity in the oceanfront store beside the pair wandering from aisle to aisle. It's a small shack that they've frequented for years. Colt pretends to be good friends with the owner, and Parker never minds because there's a great lemonade stand right down the block. It's usually the first stop of the day when they decide to hang out on the beach. Just a place to buy ice and snacks before moving on to better things.

Which is good considering there being little to no airflow when sitting inside, and the radio seems to be on a constant loop of Justin Bieber in his pre-puberty phase. It's not so good, however, when they spend more than five minutes inside.

Today, it seems to be the first and final stop given how long they've been there. She feels her bones getting weary from all the pandering her brother has done, and she's starting to suspect that his reasons for picking her up that morning weren't as innocent as he initially claimed.

Deprived of breathable air and sleep, Parker isn't all too enthused when she props the kiosk sunglasses onto her head with a pleading look towards her brother. "Because I'm bored!" she whined, in a way that was far too little-sisterly like for someone her age. Decidedly though she doesn't care when he makes no move to leave. "I thought we were just going to buy some sunscreen before heading towards the point. That's what you said, anyway."

"We are!" he says, arms thrown wide in exasperation. Parker doesn't buy that for a second, however, and her brother folds under her stare. "Just... in a minute. I need a new rash guard. Maybe some new board shorts."

"You don't even surf."

"I... do," he argues, his head bobbing up and down as if trying to convince himself of such a bold statement. "It's just been a couple of—"

"Decades?"

"Years," he corrects her with a glare. "It's like riding a bike. You know. Probably."

"Just with water and waves and the possibility of drowning or death by shark."

"You're not helping."

She shrugs. "I never said I was here to help."

Colt's response is a melodramatic pout, pausing in his nervous shifting to wave a hand in her general direction. "Well, this would be a lot quicker if you just helped."

He punctuates the statement by performing a full spin for her, hands stuck out before realizing that's awkward. To fix that, he props them even more awkwardly on his hips, but it only makes him look like he's a Ken doll pretending to be a real person.

Parker elects to keep that to herself sensing his anxiety was getting dangerously close to his own toddler-style meltdown.

"What do you think of this? Cool? Not cool?" he continues on muttering, head bobbing in every direction as he smooths the material down over his puffed-up chest. It deflates just as quickly as he turns back to her to ask, "pink's cool, right? I'm going for a laidback look, you know. But not too laidback. Somewhere right in the middle."

Parker returns the sunglasses to the rotating stand before plopping onto a stack of buckets. He seems awfully concerned with this particular task all of the sudden, despite spending the last three years avoiding the idea altogether. Every time he was offered a chance to get back out on the water by one of his stunt buddies, he miraculously came up with an excuse not to.

It all feels weird. And when her brother got weird, there was usually a girl involved.

Ah.

"You told Jody you still surf, huh?" she puts two and two together.

His peacocking in the mirror stopped entirely. A wince. Then a smile. Then a wince again in a ball of pent-up nerves. "That's... maybe one of the—she doesn't—you don't have to hang around here while I try these on. Don't you have something better to be doing?"

"If I had literally anything better to be doing, I would be doing it."

"Okay, ouch."

Parker rolled her eyes at her brother's whining. But really, she didn't have anything better to be doing at the moment than hanging around while her brother tried to impress a girl.

Not to mention she liked this girl.

Sighing, she decided to throw him a bone. Because, what else would she be doing? Parker peered at the rack behind him for a moment before pointing to the top. "Try the blue one instead."

Colt glanced down at his chest with a frown. "But... Jody likes pink."

"Yes, but blue will match your eyes better. Make you look tanner."

"And make me harder to see if I start drowning," he huffed. But, after a moment of consideration, stripped off the pink rash guard to pull on the blue one. Always a fucking argument with him, she thought with a bemused eyeroll. Especially when a moment later, "oh, this one does look better..."

She laughed as he spun in the mirror, attempting to get a three-sixty perspective of the potential garment. Only for the moment to be interrupted by a buzzing in her back pocket.

You gotta get up, gotta get out, gotta get gone before...

Her phone's ringtone broke through her relative boredom, and as Colt ran a hand through his hair and squared his shoulders in the mirror, she plucked the device out of her back pocket.

"You really got to change that ringtone," he said half-heartedly.

Parker stuck her tongue out at him and swiveled on her bucket, so she now had a view of the empty beach outside. It wasn't even that early—nine in the morning—but this particular spot was far enough removed from LA that people didn't tend to populate it unless it was a holiday weekend.

Phone pressed to her ear, she answered with a casual, "hello?"

"Was it not possible for you to give me a book from this century to read?"

A smile teased her face, and Parker returned her attention to the sunglass rack at her side just for something to do. Testing on an oversized pair of cat-eye sunglasses, she asked, "who is this?"

"Jesus, just save my fucking contact in your phone, already."

"Why would I do that when you could just stop calling me to talk about books?" she mused, stifling a laugh when there was a load of huffing and cursing from the other end of the line. He deserved it, though. Especially after ruining her sleep the other night and practically giving her a heart attack. "There are reddit forums for that exact purpose, you know. Maybe you could ask the nerds what they think. Go right to the source."

"You're such an asshole."

"Mhm. Takes one to know one, right?"

"Earthlight isn't a movie, is it?" he barreled on. She could tell from his tone that he was annoyed, and selfishly, Parker hoped that she was ruining his morning coffee and avocado toast. "It'd be a short movie."

"No, not a movie. Could be, I guess. You feel like self-funding?"

"You're hilarious," he deadpanned, and through the phone line she could hear the distant whir of a coffee grinder working. Knowing Tom, the thing probably cost more than her car. "Maybe you should quit your little bookstore and go into stand-up comedy. Probably make more money doing that. Granted, you'd have to sacrifice your dignity, but you don't have much to start with, do you?"

Parker tutted, but the overwhelming failure of her bookstore came back to mind full force at the comment, and so rather than keep up the joke, she moved the conversation on. "So, you liked it?"

"Well don't go sounding too smug about it," he chastised. "I liked it better, but still not much. They're both so outdated."

"Too much science for you?"

"This author really fucking loves the technical bullshit just as much as the last one. Pricks, all of them."

"Arthur C. Clarke is a prick?" she snorted. That was definitely a viewpoint she had never heard before. Leave it to Tom to dislike one of the best sci-fi writes in history because he spent too much time writing, well, sci-fi. "That's a hot take. He cowrote 2001 you know."

"A Space Odyssey?" She hummed. There was rattling and banging noises—the image of a hungover Tom stumbling around his kitchen came to mind—before the sound of a milk frother cut across the line. She jerked her phone away from her ear with a wince. Muffled, his voice returned. "Alright, that's not a bad movie. I'll give him that."

"It's only one of the highest-rated films of the genre," she retorted dryly.

More banging continued on the phone and as Parker tried not to let him blow out her eardrum, a hissing sound of its own came from her end of the line. She glanced up at the airshaft above her warily, but, if the sweat pooling on her back was anything to go by, it wasn't working. She glanced around in search of the noise before a rubber pool toy bounced off of the back of her head.

"Hey," the hiss returned. Pool toy in hand, she turned to find her brother waving a hand at her. The blue rash guard had been replaced with a yellow one. Worse still, he was now wearing a matching bucket hat. He gestured to himself as if he hadn't just assaulted her with a whale shaped toy. "What about this?"

She covered the phone speaker with her hand. "What happened to the blue?"

"This one is on sale!"

"Jesus, Colt. No girl has ever been impressed by that logic."

"I—" he started, then paused, and frowned at his sister like she had just burst his bubble. She might have felt bad if she hadn't been brushing off his puppy-dog eyes for the entirety of her life. The lip wobble was a new touch, though. "...is that a no to the bucket hat too?"

Parker responded by chucking the toy back at him. It bounced off his chest with a squeak.

"Yeah, alright..." he muttered, shoulders drooping, as he snatched the hat off of his head. It left his hair sticking up in tufts.

She kept that to herself.

"—are you even listening to me right now?" Tom's voice crackled back to life. If the incredulous lilt of his voice was anything to go by, he was not used to being sidelined for other people nor did he like it. "Who the hell are you talking to?"

"There was a bucket hat situation I had to deal with."

"...are you with Colt right now?"

She laughed. First, at the fact that Tom Ryder equated a bucket hat with her brother. Second because he sounded so disgusted by the fact that she would willingly spend her Sunday morning's helping her brother shop for bucket hats.

"You mean my brother?" she corrected.

"Did you tell him that I'm auditioning for a sci-fi roll? What does he think about it?"

"Why the hell would I tell him I'm talking to you?" she asked, echoing his sentiments from their last phone call. Parker was only teasing though, while she was pretty sure Tom had meant to be mean. Regardless, she moved on as she stood from the bucket to stretch out the kinks in her legs. "A bucket hat is a bad idea, right?"

"Is this seriously more important than what I want to talk about?"

"This may come as a surprise to you, but my world doesn't revolve around things that you want to talk about," she explained exasperatedly. Not necessarily because of what he said, but because she was fairly confident that he actually believed those sentiments. Worse still, she bet no one had ever told him that before. "Particularly not at two in the morning—thanks for that by the way. My roommate is pissed at me for waking her up."

A pause. Then, "you still have a roommate? How old are you?"

"I was serious about posting your phone number online you know," she threatened idly.

Colt disappeared into the changing booth, and Parker slowly started perusing the now abandoned hat rack. Despite her disapproval, she was bored. Plus, it actually had a fairly impressive selection.

Plopping an oversized sunhat atop her head, she ignored his insult to press on more important matters. "But seriously. Bucket hats. They're out of style, right?"

"Bucket hats have never been in style."

"Fashion is all made up anyway."

"That's just what poor people say who can't afford actual fashion."

She tutted, scrunching her nose up. Derisively, she asked, "did Gail tell you that?"

"Alright, that's it. I'm hanging up."

"It was a joke—!"

Joke or not, the dial tone was the only response that she got from Tom. She stared at the phone in her hand for a moment before huffing.

So that's what that feels like, she thought.

Something bright and ugly popped into her line of vision, and Parker glanced in the mirror to find her brother sporting a cheetah print body suit paired with a trucker hat that said Wine Made Me Do It in big, cursive lettering.

"Now, not to step on any middle-aged ladies' toes, but this is fashion," he clapped his hands with a goofy grin on his face. He gestured to the hat with a crooked thumb. "Get it? Two dollars!"

Parker laughed; couldn't not even if she wanted to.

Her brother was so innocent and idiotic and awful that while she once used to be embarrassed in public by him, now she just appreciated the fact that he was, always, unashamedly himself.

"Here, wait," she poked her tongue out of the side of her mouth while angling her camera at him. "Say cheese."

"Asiago," he cooed, making a Blue Steel type face that looked ridiculous when paired with his clothes.

The picture was even better, and Parker felt tears gathering in her eyes as they giggled. The employee from earlier shot them an annoyed look, but he was promptly ignored. If she didn't care about Tom Ryder's opinion, she certainly didn't care about his.

"That was good, right?"

"Oh, definitely. Jody won't know what hit her," she teased. Colt nodded, looking all too smug with himself, despite the fact that she was joking.

This smug version of himself reminded her of someone else that he looked a whole lot like.

An idea struck Parker, and as Colt started putting back the clothes where he found them, she quickly saved Tom's number in her phone before attaching the picture to the contact. Parker hesitated when she saw his name typed out.

Asshole, she typed in big letters. It was funny for half a second, though, before she realized it didn't quite feel right.

She deleted his name. Thought about it. Then replaced it with nothing more than a simple puking face emoji.

"Are you getting that?" Colt asked, drawing her from her reverie, and when she glanced up, she remembered that she was still wearing the ridiculous sunhat. "Because, you know... I'm not so sure that's something a cool person would wear."

Parker shoved her brother towards the cash register with a laugh.

They left the store with a blue rash guard, a pair of sunglasses, and matching bucket hats.

Twenty minutes later they realized they had forgotten to get sunscreen.

---

Paker had heard a lot of stupid and surprising things in her life; things that were so shockingly idiotic that she often wondered if they had been spoken as a joke. Most of the things on that list were quoted from her brother; a man she loved, but that didn't entirely think before he spoke.

When they were kids, he had argued that fish didn't need oxygen to survive. That's why they live under water, dummy, he had said with far too much confidence that she, younger and far less educated, could only blink at him. Then there was the time in his twenties that Colt had brought up the topic of furries at the dinner table in front of their grandparents. They're not, like, really having sex... are they? he had asked while trying to figure out what costume part would go where if they did do the dirty. And of course, there was the infamous baking soda as a cure all for wounds debate, but she tried to block out the sound of his skin literally sizzling as he screamed.

Tom, in the short time that she had known him, had also said some pretty shocking things that wound up on the list. He was, after all, an unapologetic asshole/idiot that didn't care if the world was flat or round so long as it revolved around him.

But out of shocking thing she had ever heard, it was fifteen-year-old California born and bred girl that topped the list.

"I want a job," Melissa proclaimed.

Parker's pen scratched an ugly line across her poor excuse of an accounting notebook as she glanced up wildly, big eyes blinking slow and dumb, as static hummed in between her ears.

"...what?"

"I want to apply for a job," she reiterated.

The bookstore was empty save for a pair of retirees that were slowly perusing her small selection of bird watching books. An oversized fly buzzed overhead, whizzing an uneven path between the two, as an irritable car stuck in traffic laid on the horn outside.

"Like—like here?" Parker asked. There was nothing fun or young or hip about her store. Just dusty bookshelves, a musty smell she could not get rid of no matter how many Bath and Body Works' scent infusers she plugged into the corner, and a ratty reading chair that had a Melissa-sized depression in the middle. She arched a brow. "You want to work... here. In my bookstore."

Melissa rolled her eyes, shrugging. Duh, the gesture said.

"Yeah, sure, obviously," Parker hummed, despite the fact that there was nothing yeah, sure, or obvious about the current conversation. Specifically given that Melissa, on more than occasion, had complained that her store was boring. "Just... why?"

"I need money."

"Suuuuure," she drew out the syllable, wooden stool creaking as she shifted in her seat behind the register. "But wouldn't you prefer to work somewhere a little more, er, fun?"

"This place is plenty fun."

The fly from earlier buzzed between them before smacking into the windowpane. It spiraled to the floor with a depressing zzzz.

Parker raised a second brow.

Melissa, in response, threw her hands up with a huff. "Okay, so, maybe I've been rejected from Jamba Juice and Target already. Which is so, totally crazy."

"That is crazy because I thought Jamba Juice went out of business—"

"And I can get my driver's permit in three months, and I want to get my license as soon as possible. But there's no way that I'm going to have Mom drive me everywhere, so I need to get a car. And to get a car I need to be able to afford a car—which, like, the economy is awful right now if you didn't know—so I need a job. Mom and Dad said they'll match whatever money I can put towards it. And as of today, that is a fat zero."

Woes of teenage girls, Parker thought.

"That's nice of them," she said instead. Not that she envied a teenager in the twenty-first century, but for her sixteenth birthday she had been given a bike. Not even a new one. It had been Colt's old one that he outgrew, and it still had flame stickers and duck tape wrapped all around it. "But, seriously, there has to be at least one other place a kid your age would want to work."

Melissa, having been slowly circling around the center of the room, paused in her ambling to cast Parker a suspicious look. "Do you not want me to work here or something?"

"No, of course I would want you to work here—"

"Great!"

"—but I have no money. Why do you think I'm the only employee here?"

Melissa considered that. "I just always assumed you were a little uptight and didn't like other people messing with your shelves."

"Uptight?" she cried. "Why does everyone keep calling me that?"

But Melissa didn't seem to notice that she had just quoted her celebrity crush, and so she instead turned her attention to the bookstore. She cast a critical eye over everything; though there was no smoke, Parker could smell the wheels turning between her ears, and slumped further onto the counter in preparation for what was to come.

"Don't get me wrong, Park, I love your store," she started. "But it could definitely use some updating."

"Updating?" she deadpanned.

"Some new paint for starters. I think it would be so cute if you painted it, um, maybe a soft blue. Then you could paint the bookshelves in different colors—pastels, definitely—and even some flowers here and there wouldn't hurt."

Parker made a face. Pastels weren't really her thing. "You want to paint the shelves?"

"It's just so brown."

"The natural color of wood, yes."

Melissa rolled her eyes, and with a waft of Vanilla perfume, trotted behind the front desk to examine the string of posters tacked onto the wall. Most of them were salvages from the dollar store, and while Parker thought they gave the store some character, Melissa clearly didn't agree. "These totally need to go too."

"Excuse me—"

"You could still keep them," she huffed half-heartedly. Clearly, she wasn't sold on the idea, but Parker would be damned if she pitched her Jane Austen posters based on the opinion of a teenager. "Just cut them down to a smaller size, put them in some picture frames—you can get them super cheap at the thrift store—and they'll make it look less packrat-like and more eclectic."

Parker glared, an argument on the tip of her tongue.

But, well, when she thought about it, it wasn't such a bad idea. And, well, maybe giving the store a new coat of paint wasn't either. It still looked like it had when she bought it from Larry. She had spent so much money on the loan payment, that she never considered really updating the place—mostly because, duh, she had no money—but paint and some dollar store frames weren't so expensive.

"How do you know all of this?" she asked with a quizzical look.

Melissa smiled, phone waved in hand as she tossed a plait of perfectly curled hair over her shoulder. "I spend a lot of time on Pinterest. What this place needs is a total cottage-core makeover."

"That sounds so made-up."

The girl frowned. "Well, duh. Everything is made up."

Parker opened her mouth, thought it through, and then promptly snapped her mouth shut. When did kids become so philosophical?

"So," said kid leaned onto the front counter with a conniving smile. She was a pretty girl with a clear complexion, bright white teeth beneath blue braces, and a deep closest of cute, but age-appropriate clothing. When she wiggled her eyebrows, Parker couldn't help but notice how well shaped they were. "Can I have a job?"

It was a tempting offer...

She glanced at the balancing worksheet she was doing, scores of numbers and ugly handwriting sprawled across her notebook, before taking a proper look at her empty storefront.

"I'll... have to think about it," she finally hedged.

Melissa's shoulders sank in disappointment.

"I don't have a ton of money right now," she explained, not at all liking how sad she looked. Colt's puppy dog expression had done nothing to prepare her for Melissa Abernathy's professional one. "So, I'll need to look things over first."

"But...?"

A sigh. "Are you free on Sundays?"

"I thought you were closed on Sundays?"

"I am," Parker nodded. "Which means it's about the only day of the week that I could try to paint this place. If you're serious about wanting a job and wanting to help, I'll consider bringing you in on the weekends to start helping me renovate."

A grin broke out on the girl's face, and she started bouncing on her toes. "Really?"

"Just temporarily," Parker threatened with her index finger. She wasn't sure how much was being heard and how much was going over the girl's head, however, and suddenly this was all feeling like a bad idea. "You can help me paint and decorate, and then I'll look at my finances."

"And you'll hire me?"

"If I can afford it, then... yes, we could work something out."

"Yes!"

"Just a few shifts a week!"

"That's perfect."

"And I'm not paying more than minimum wage."

"Totally fair. This rocks!"

"I said if—"

Melissa was already on her phone, texting and typing away as she bounced around. Parker felt a migraine start whirring between her temples, but—well—the kid was so excited that she couldn't feel too miserable about her decision. Tourist traffic was dying down as the season's changed, and she really needed to do something if she still wanted to be in business come the new year.

There was the sound of a camera clicking, and Melissa grinned from her corner of the room. "Oh my god, Park, you're so not going to regret this. We could totally do a beachy palette—blues and greens and, oh, orange—throw some rugs down, add some little details to the bottom of the shelves that you have to look for to see. Like easter egg, stuff. Oh, this is so exciting! I'm going to get Miranda and Abby to come, they have a great eye for detail."

She watched Melissa disappear down the MYSTERY aisle, all the while chatting to whoever she had already gotten on the phone.

Parker steepled her head between her hands with a sigh.

But, well, the enthusiasm was contagious, and after a moment she was laughing to herself. Maybe a fresh coat of paint would cheer her up.

Speaking of, how much did paint cost?

She was in the middle of a google search when her phone started to ring. The caller ID only showed an emoji and a picture of her brother modeling a ridiculous outfit, and she let out a childish snort in response.

A small smile in place, she answered. "Three books in a week. I have to say that I am a little impressed."

"Hm. I'm impressed you finally saved my contact. I was starting to think that basic technology was beyond your skill set."

"Hardy, har, har," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes. Melissa was somewhere in the back of store now, likely scaring off her only customers, and she decided to give up on her accounting for the day. Twisting in her seat so she was watching the street outside, she propped her elbow on her knee. "What did you think of Nemesis?"

He seemed hesitant to answer. "I... liked it."

Parker grinned. "Oh, you did, did you?"

A sound halfway between a groan and a whine. "You're fucking infuriating, you know that?"

"For recommending you good books?"

"You don't have to be so smug about it."

"I'm not smug," she said smugly.

He scoffed, and Parker couldn't help but grin even further. The idea that Tom Ryder, pain in her ass, was admitting that he liked her recommendation was the metaphorical cherry on the top of her cake. Even better, she got to be smug to him about something.

Parker continued on to say, "I guess I'm just happy that I recommended something you like. Especially since I didn't think you liked anything other than looking in a mirror, hair gel, and hot lattes."

"For fuck's sake, it was a flat white, and it was one time."

"Was it?" she teased, enjoying the conversation far more than she should be. This was the asshole that drove her brother insane every day at work, after all. But then again, what Colt didn't know, wouldn't hurt him. "You're just so memorable, I guess. Can't stop thinking about it."

"I would hope I'm memorable," he shot back, a whole lot of huffing and puffing from his side of the line that didn't fit the whole "perfect human being" sort of vibe he tried so desperately hard to give off. A dog barked in the distance. A second, more put-off and annoyed huff argued back. "Putain, calme-toi, Jean Claude."

Parker curled an eyebrow, impressed. "Was that French?"

"Impressed?" he said, taking a page out of her book to sound unnecessarily smug.

Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window—a stupid smile in place, lip pulled between two teeth, eyes twinkling in a way that didn't suit the sleep-deprived bags beneath them—Parker straightened in her seat. "Hardly. It's an ugly language," she said, overcorrecting just a little by insulting what some considered to be the language of love. Not her best move. "Moreso wondering why you're imposing a foreign language on your dog. Seems cruel."

"He's French," Tom said, certainly rolling his eyes.

"Ooh, a French bulldog? I love those."

Something about the insinuation that Tom Ryder would own a bulldog managed to insult him, and she heard the scorn in his voice when he responded with a scathing, "I would never own a fucking bulldog. They can't breathe and can't run thanks to decades of improper inbreeding. What use are they?"

"...they're cute?"

She heard him mutter something in French, before another bark—as if his dog, the French bastard, was agreeing with whatever complaint he made against her—and Parker was so elegantly reminded of what a pain in the ass he could be.

Chin in hand, she rolled her eyes. "You want to tell me about the book or not?"

There was noise from his side of the line; music in the background kicked up, the sound of dog food being slung into a metal bowl, a faucet running, before things quieted down a bit. "I thought the idea of moon colonization is a little overplayed, plus there's the whole bit about the telepathic organism that is so fucking stupid," he said.

Despite his tone though, somehow Parker just knew that he was only complaining so he had something to complain about. She didn't wonder how she knew that.

"The book is from the eighties. I don't think moon colonization was overplayed when he wrote it," she protested anyway, sipping on her watered-down cold brew as she did so. "And the bit about the organism is fascinating to me. Everyone always writes about ET-style aliens, but I thought it was brilliant of Asimov to create something new."

"Brilliant is what I do. Not writing a short story about a family being separated in space," he grumbled. A moment later, "you're awfully hot on these writers. You've never called me brilliant before." Sore about it, obviously.

"That's not true. I think you're brilliantly self-centered and egotistical."

"Elle pense qu’elle est une comédienne, celle-ci," he muttered, much to her English-speaking chagrin. He switched back to say, "I'm the reason your brother has a career, you know. You could give me a little credit."

"Are you?" she mused, knowing it was a load of horseshit. Self-centered and egotistical horseshit that only further proved her point. "Interesting. I thought he introduced you to Gail."

A moment of silence. "He told you that?"

"We tell each other everything," she said. Though, that wasn't exactly true, was it? "Well, mostly everything, anyway."

"Hm. I could argue that's breaking our nondisclosure agreement. I could probably fire him for it, you know," he threatened, idly, though, and without any real heat to his words. There was the sound of water running in the background, and Parker really hoped that he was spontaneously washing some dishes and not talking to her while in the shower.

"Please. We both know that Colt is the best stunt-man out there. And you only work with the best, right?"

His lack of response proved that she was right; Colt was the best at his job, and he just so happened to look a whole lot like Tom Ryder. Not to mention that Tom's entire career was built around bragging how good he was, how talented the people he worked with were, how he didn't settle for anything but excellence. In fact, Parker was half-sure she could break Ryder's nose and the only backlash Colt would get would be a whole lot of bitching.

Granted, she might get arrested, but at least her brother would be relatively fine.

"When's the audition, anyway?" she asked just to be nosy.

"Tomorrow morning."

Parker raised a brow, idly watching as some idiot failed to parallel park out front. "Cutting it a little close, huh?"

"I'm Tom Ryder," he said, in his typical sense of self-importance that she loathed. Though, this time, Parker didn't loathe it as much as she found it amusing. "I know what I'm doing and don't need your fucking opinion about it."

"Do you have that written on a motivational poster somewhere?"

"No," he said immediately. A little too quickly, in her opinion, and Parker narrowed her eyes with a sneaking suspicion that his house was just plastered with photos of himself. "Whatever. I have to go. Unlike you I don't just have all day to talk."

She scoffed incredulously, reminding him that, "you called me!"

Unsurprisingly, however, he didn't care. "I need to practice some more before the audition. Unless you want me to fail."

"I didn't think Tom Ryder could fail."

"Yeah, well," he hesitated for a moment, all that bravado he'd been displaying moments earlier gone in a flash. Parker wondered if he ever talked to anyone without it, and if he didn't, then what sort of friends he had in his life. He cleared his throat. "It's a big deal. Not just for me, but Colt too. This would be our biggest movie yet. Some extra practice doesn't hurt anyone."

Pride swelled in her chest; her brother had always impressed her with how he built his own career, moving to LA without knowing anyone and not leaving until he accomplished what he wanted. And while she was his biggest fan—number one, as she liked to joke—his success was his alone, not Tom's.

Still, without Tom it may have been less consistent, and without Colt, Tom may have been stuck doing rom coms. Parker kept that to herself.

Instead, she said, almost sensing that he needed to hear it, "yeah, well, I know you don't need it or anything, but—you know—good luck on the audition. I think you'd be really good in a sci-fi film. Despite what Gail seems to think, I might actually want to, er, see that movie. Pirated, of course. I don't go to the theaters for just any asshole."

The sound of water cut off, and for a long moment it was silent. Then, a scoff. "You're right," he said. "I don't need it."

Parker hummed, rolling her eyes, and biting back a smile at his blatant audacity. Gail was right about one thing; there was no one in this world quite like him. Maybe that was a good thing, too.

"Sure. You being Tom Ryder, and all. Guess you're a shoo-in, huh?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I do have the blonde hair and blue eyes."

A laugh bubbled up her throat, and she only managed to keep it to herself when the door jingled with the sound of new customers. A pair of teen girls strode inside with sweet, but nonplussed looks on their faces, and mindlessly Parker waved them towards the back where Melissa had disappeared to.

Watching them amble with her phone tucked against her shoulder, she asked, "did you just make a joke? Forget sci-fi, someone should call SNL right now and get you an audition with them."

"You're just as bad as Colt. You know that?"

"And now you're just handing out compliments," she teased. He laughed in response, wasn't quite quick enough to disguise it as a huff or a cough, and Parker bit her lip to keep from smugly grinning like a total idiot. "Just don't forget to send me that agent's fee when you get the part. I accept checks and DutchBros gift cards."

"Jesus Christ, you're pathetic."

"Am I? Because I just so happen to be popular enough to have the one and only Tom Ryder calling me three times in one week."

"Good-fucking-bye, smartass."

The sound of a dial tone came a second later, and when Parker glanced at her screen she was greeted with her own reflection. She didn't mind that he hung up on her. If anything, she almost wished that he had more time to talk. If only because he seemed to be in a rare, friendly mood.

Not because she almost actually liked talking to him. Asshole-ish tendencies notwithstanding.

"What are you smiling about?"

Parker turned to find Melissa and her two friends staring warily at her across the counter. Clearing her throat, she set her phone aside with pink cheeks.

"Er, nothing."

She harrumphed. Teenagers had never seemed so intimidating before, and with a self-conscious smile, Parker smoothed her hair down as subtly as she could.

"Need something?"

"Do you have any John Green books?" one of the girls asked.

Parker nodded, shaking off the conversation to switch into work mode, and smiled a little more genuinely at them all as she stood. "Sure, loads. Come on, I'll show you," she waved them after her, and as they browsed, they filled her in on what paint colors they thought would look best.

Melissa, she mused two hours later with disheveled hair, sweat-tacked curls on her neck, a stack of notes in one hand, and a long email chain of Pinterest posts on her phone, could rule the world one day.

She just needed a car first.

[fandomtherapy44]

Sober Buddies Ch.1 Help lines and cults

Summary: Y/n is new at college and trying to find a footing in everything. When she meets a guy who introduces her to something that could really help find her path.

warnings : Swearing

WC/ 2.3k

AN/ Hey Ya'll welcome to my serious I'm so excited to make this series. So it will use some plot lines from season six but a lot will change including CJ but his key character notes will still be there. Without further ado enjoy Sober buddies.

I got the divider from

Firefly Graphics

College, was an escape from my life at home, something I had always wanted. And in Boston: my dream since I was a freshman in high school. At Worthington, I had worked so hard to get here, and I finally did. It's about two weeks away from the start of school and today I get to check out my dorm that I’m sharing with two other girls- which should be fun, hopefully. I walked into the room where three beds were barely fitting together. I put my things on the middle bed when the door bursts open. “Uh, who the hell are you?” I turn and a pretty blond girl is standing there. 

“Um, I'm Y/N, your roommate, nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand and she looks down at it like it was covered in shit. “Okay, I'm just going to assume that you're a germaphobe.” 

“Don't mind her, she's Audrey, and I'm Joey.” This girl, a brunette, actually shakes my hand. “Y/N, I'm so happy this worked out!” Audrey looks confused. “Well, she needed a place and thought, why not us?” Joey explained to Audrey, who looked like you had killed her dog in front of her.

“I promise I won't be annoying. I will even let you have the first shower of the morning Audrey.” I tried to appeal to her queen bee side.

“Fine you can stay, but don’t touch my clothes, okay?”

I raise my right hand in the air as if swearing an oath. “I promise and cross my heart and all that.” Hopefully these girls and I can become friends and Audrey won't kill me in my sleep for accidentally grabbing her dress.

It had been a couple of weeks- and it was now one week before school started. Audrey and I hadn't really been besties, but Joey and I had a pretty great rapport going on. I was looking at my classes and trying to get a handle on what I should be studying, when Audrey came bursting in. “Omg oh my gosh, do you know where Joey is?” 

I looked around. Clearly not, I thought. “I don't know Audrey, I think studying at the library, maybe.” Audrey sits down on her bed with a huff.

“Why is she studying? School doesn't even start for another week,” Audrey sighs. I knew that Joey’s English class was stressing her out. 

“Um, probably for her English class, I heard it's super hard.” 

“Right, little Miss Perfect does the super hard class and will probably get all A’s.” I could tell by the tone of her voice that this was mostly a projection of whatever had happened that she needed to talk to Joey about. 

“You know, Audrey, you could always talk to me. I can guarantee you that I've faced a similar problem.” She gives me a dirty side eye but gives in.

“I guess since you're the only one here.” 

“Great, I love being the last choice.” I set down my books and sit down on the ground criss-cross applesauce style. She rolls her eyes at me. 

“Shush my problems, remember.” 

“Yes, I do,” I reply.

“Well, I was at the bar with my boyfriend. His name is Pacey.” I nod my head trying to keep up. “And we were playing pool when this gothic hot chick came walking up- and this is the woman that he wants to live with!” Audrey threw her arms up in a dramatic flare.

“I'm confused, Audrey. Number one: what do you mean by living with her and two: why would that be a problem?” She looks shocked by my answer. 

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? She's hot, he wants to move, and she has space in her apartment.”

“Okay, but I'm still confused as to why it would be bad to move to a better place.” At my response, I notice Audrey is becoming more impatient.

“Because Duh! Y/N, she's hot!”

It seems like this girl has a whole lot of issues- but I'm not one to talk on that. “Look, Audrey, do you trust Pacey?” She doesn't even hesitate. 

“Yes but-” 

“There's your answer.” 

“But-” 

“But, you trust your boyfriend, and that’s what matters, even if the girl is a supermodel. If he's as good as you make him sound, then he won't even look in her direction.” Audrey takes that in. 

“I guess you're right, you know, you're not half bad L/N.” She gives me a little respectful nod. 

“Same to you, Lindell.” 

School was happening tomorrow, and I had thankfully gotten all things done. Now, I had more time to get to know Jen and her grandma, who were really sweet so far. They are sitting at a table and I go to them. “Hey Jen, Evelyn.” I greeted as I sat. 

“Oh please sweetheart, call me Grams, everyone does.” She smiles at me warmly.

“Okay great! If it's okay with you, what are we talking about?” Jen has no problem catching me up.

“Well, Y/N, Grams here has only picked up a math book because of a certain someone who teaches it.” 

“Aww, I think that's cute.” Jen did not agree with me. 

“l think it's a slippery slope. l mean, one minute you're taking an interest, and the next...you're sublimating your own thoughts and desires, and for what? For a chance to participate in the great patriarchal heterosexist fraud…”

“...that is better known as monogamy?” I answer in her pause. She gives me a quick look.

“ls that how you wanna spend your golden years? Folding some man's laundry and pretending to share an interest? l mean, haven't we come further as a sex--?” She stops and looks behind me. And she stares for a second. 

“Hi. I'm sorry, are we bothering you?” Jen asked the stranger behind me. I got curious enough and turned to see one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. “Because if it's not too much trouble, you could get your own conversation.”

“No. Sorry.” He apologized but I had a feeling he wasn't done yet. “I've been sitting there trying to figure out where l met you before… and suddenly I realized I've never met you before.” I chuckle at that. 

“Great. Well, I'm really glad that we got that figured out,” Jen states, blandly.

“I've heard you on the radio.” I knew he wasn't done.

“Jen, you were on the radio? I never knew!” I exclaimed while hitting her arm in excitement. 

“Ow! And you didn't know because it's not important. And you.” She turned back to the guy. “Okay, you got me. I'm busted. l was on the radio. But I'm not anymore, so thank you very much for listening, and bye-bye.” She tried to end the conversation. 

“So, did you get fired, or what?” The man continued.

“What is this, an interview?” Jen looks annoyed.

“I'm just curious.” 

“Well, let's just say that l had some artistic differences with the new management.” Well, that sucks she had to give that up because of a dick in a suit, I thought. “Fine. Then we'll just say that,” Jen concludes.

“Fine.” The man replies. Then Grams comes in for the clutch. 

“Excuse me, young man. Would you care to join us?”

Grams had gone, I assume, to talk to the particular professor teaching math. While the guy had joined us. 

“I'm CJ.” 

“Y/N, and this radio host is Jen.” She rolls her eyes and I nudge her. 

“It's nice to meet you two.” 

“You too, CJ.” We had gotten on the subject of where we were living, and Jen mentioned that she is currently living with her grandma.

“No, l think it's nice.” 

“Yeah, that's what everybody says. ‘Oh, you live with your grandma. That's so sweet,’. How do they know l don't beat her and leave her tied to the radiator all winter?” 

“Ah, so that's the screaming I hear when I come over.” I added in. CJ laughed at my joke.

“ls this a cry for help?” CJ asked Jen. 

“Do l look like l need help?” 

“No. Actually, you look like someone who'd probably be good at giving it.” Jen hears that and immediately gets up and begins leaving, practically running for the hills.

“This has happened to me before. This religion thing is not really–” She is already halfway down the stairs. 

“Ha, just one Second CJ,” I say. He gives me a friendly smile. 

“Sure.” I went after her.

“Jen, wait- we should hear him out.” 

“Y/N, he was totally giving weird vibes. Are you coming?” I looked back and I felt something. 

“I think I'll stay.” 

“Well, call me if you need help out of the cult and remember nine for Joey’s surprise.” 

“Gotcha.” With that, she leaves. I turn back to CJ trying to think of some good reason.

“Hey, uh, so she had to leave for a class.” We sat back down. 

“No she didn't, class doesn't start till tomorrow.” I give a small smile. 

“You're right, sorry.” 

“It's okay I know everyone isn't for the whole ‘helping thing,’ but you're still here.” I looked around and he was right, I was, which was weird for me too. 

“I guess I am- uh, you said something about helping people?” I question. 

“Right- um… no matter how I say this I'm going to sound like a dork. Have you ever heard of The Stand?” He looks at me like he expects me to run away. 

“No, no, I never have. I just moved here from Cali so I don't know a lot of stuff here. What's The Stand?” CJ gets this look of confidence. 

“It’s a peer counseling program.” I think about it. 

“So I help people.” 

“Yes yes exactly! There's an information session tonight at seven.” He hands me a pamphlet on it. 

“I'll be there and maybe I can convince Jen that this is not a cult,” He says, with a small chuckle.

“That would be great! I can't wait to see you there.” He pats my shoulder in a friendly way and he leaves. I felt a sensation of butterflies rising up from my stomach, but I quickly grabbed a fly swatter and squished them. 

I had walked over to Jen’s house. “Hey, was escaping the cult hard?” I sat down on the couch laughing at her joke. 

“Very funny Jen, actually he was talking about the stand. Have you heard about that?” She gives me a comical look. 

“Yes, it's a call line where people call to complain about who's dating who and if the professor is going to give them an A or not.”

“I thought it was a little more serious than that,” I replied. “Well, whatever it is, I'm going to go to the information session tonight. You should come; if CJ was right about anything, it is that you would be good with helping people.” She sighs and glances down.

“Ok fine I'll go. We can pick up Joey’s gift after. And are you sure that you're not doing this just because CJ is ungodly hot?”

“No, I mean it helps, but he's not the reason I'm going to go.” I wish there was something like this when I was going through… no, I'm not going to think about that. I'm here to move on from that.

Jen and I went into the building and it was covered in inspiring posters and quotes. “On the nose much?” Jen commented, scanning the room. 

“I like it, let's get a good seat.” Which wouldn't be hard. There were tons of spots; I guess the word didn't get out. The speaker started and I was trying hard to listen, but Jen- not so much.

“So as l was saying, most of what we do around here. is simply information and referrals. And 99 times out of 100 just reminding someone to take a deep breath and to keep on breathing is enough. Tomorrow will be another day. For you too. Which brings me to our number one rule around here: Never be afraid to ask for a hug at the end of a tough day.” At that Jen left. I leave my bag.

“Jen, wait, wait!”

“I'm sorry Y/N, I can't do that. If you want to stay, great, but I can't. I'll see you later.” She turns to leave. 

“Jen!” I sadly go back to my space on the couch. I go to look at my notes when the space next to me gets seated. 

“You came.” I swung my head and CJ was right there. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“So, there's the coffee maker, and here's the mini fridge that definitely is working.” CJ tells me as he shakes his head, indicating sarcasm.

“Ha, and I definitely won't smell any weird smells from here.” 

“Yes definitely.” We both laughed and I looked at the window and it had gotten dark. 

“Wow, time really does fly.” 

“So, what made you want to stay?” He looks at me with those piercing green eyes.

“Because I know a place like this would have been amazing for me when I was younger, so If I can help someone avoid those feelings that I went through, then I'm for it a hundred percent.” CJ heard me and truly felt I meant it. 

“That's the same reason I did it.” 

“Really? That's so cool!” I exclaimed happily. “So, what do you do for fun? I haven't been here for long, so if you know of any places...” He thinks about it. 

“Yeah I mean the typical places like bars, clubs, parties.” 

“Would you want to go to one together?” I asked abruptly which I never did, especially with people I just met.

“I totally would, but it wouldn't be much fun.” 

“Why?” I asked. He hesitates for a second, pondering something.

“…I don't drink.” 

“Oh my gosh, that's amazing!” I heard what I just said and felt embarrassed. “I'm sorry, that sounded super weird, but I don't drink either.” 

“Wow, it's hard to find a college girl not drinking.” CJ searches my eyes.

“True, but it's what's best for me and I'm sure for you. What about this: we’ll be each other's sober buddies.” 

“Sober buddies?”

“Yeah, when we are at the same parties, we’ll make sure the other won't even look at drinks.” He thinks about it for a second and I look at the clock. “Shit I'm going to be late and then Audrey is going to kill me.” I grab my stuff and run to the door but before I leave I turn back. “CJ sober buddies?” He gives me a smirk and nods. 

“Sober buddies.” 

I will get chapter two out as soon as possible thank you for reading!

[itzkawaiiduh]

I'm interested on your Will's time period theorie. Can you explain more?

Hello anon! I'm glad you found interest in my time period theory, so I drafted this up-- it took quite a bit, so I hope you enjoy it! And anyone else reading!

Hi everyone! For a little background info about me before I begin: I'm Canadian, and the region I live around was heavily affected by the Great Depression so I have my fair share of knowledge about it! Also I have family that live out on a farm/middle of nowhere.

As we know, we have little to no information about William, and while understanding it is the first season, he is the only one we don't know anything about; everyone else we know some information about. This is purely theories, but what I piece together.

(The only thing I have to go off on is his final meal so bare with me!)

I theorize William is from the Dust Bowl/Great Depression era, narrowed down to somewhere in the US.

Will's final meal is peaches and water.

Peaches were a common and popular fruit in Georgia, USA. You can easily farm them and pick their fruit, storing them in a bowl and leaving them in a dining room. Georgia in the 1930s was a state heavily affected by the Dust Bowl. A glass of water is also an interesting choice, because why not try anything else if you've never seen or had it?

Implied in the final dinner episode (38), you can choose your final meals because it's what you would have wanted. (ex. Ada chose beluga caviar even if she never had it.) Everyone around William has full meals:

Montresor with beans, cornbread & meat,

Prospero with espresso & cannoli, and Annabel with tea and scones, and so on.

All of these are curated, expensive meals viewing their time periods.

So why the basic meal? Why does everyone else have full meals?

Well, in the 1930s, these things weren't readily available. Additionally, William didn't see higher delicacies like scones or caffeine, and the resources were not possible to make such a thing (also flour & sugar were like $2.00 and it was very expensive) so he chose something simple but filling, like a fresh peach and water.

Canned foods were popular in the 1930s! So him choosing a fresh peach over canned fruit is a possibility.

(But wait, he saw meat! Couldn't he tried that?)

Livestock in the 1930s was valuable, so selling cows, pigs and even sheep for meat would guarantee good money, but knowing Will's ethos he would pick something that wouldn't be an inconvenience; accommodating to those around him.

An extra theory as well! Had this bouncing around my head since my social studies class when we learned about the 1930s

Would it be an odd theory to say that he could have worked on a farm, or even travelled around?

Young men would travel farm-to-farm, looking to work there in exchange for shelter, food, and maybe some pay. (even though they were paid pennies and nickels, it was enough for them.) Maybe William travelled and met someone while out there, a partner, like an "Of Mice and Men" type of scenario. Being alone in the Dust Bowl is pretty exhausting, so pairing up with someone increases your chances of survival.

Perhaps his partner left him to starve in the middle of nowhere, left him behind in a storm, and so you're alone with your thoughts, you'd be confused: What did I do wrong? Did I take something that I wasn't supposed to?

And what's the first thing you'd like to do when you get home? Have clean water and a nice fruit you'd picked yourself, your own treat.

If you made it to the end, thank you so much! This will likely be edited/revised as more ideas enter my head.

Thank you for the ask, anon!

[ciarashoggoth]

Advice! On Autumn Burrowing Urges

We are heading into autumn now, and the burrowing urges are STRONG. I'm sure my other skunk therian friends will agree on this. Your hands are supposed to be digging through the rich soil. Your eyes should be searching for the best shelter- the seasons are changing, and this autumn I plan to share some ways I indulge in burrowing urges;

Gardening is a great way to feed into your burrowing habits. Don't be afraid to embrace getting your hands dirty! Dig your hands deep into the soil, bare palmed even! You don't even have to be planting anything, if you can just embrace being so close to the earth, you will satisfy these instincts, I can guarantee you.

Feeling the need to hide your body in a closely confined space? Need to feel like you're taking shelter, that the very walls of your burrow are holding you together? Well, I got the perfect remedy! Gather all of your blankets, your pillows, your Miku Hatsune body pillow- everything is going with you. Where are you going, you ask? You're going to that one space in the house that you feel safest. You know, the space in the back of your closet.

Under your bed, with your beloved pet cat.

That little nook near the windowsill.

In that dug out space under the house. It's all going there, because you're going to deck it out and make it your very own burrow. Get creative with it too, drag all the stuff (and people) you love into one cramped space because it's not  a house, it's a HOME. Remember, one of the main perks of having a burrow is having a place to hide. They'll never find you, until you want them to find you 💛

Lastly, and this one may seem a tad odd, is that if you throw the blanket up over your head while in bed, it can help you feel as if you're covered, that you are safe. It's the same feelings you would get if you had dug yourself a nice burrow near some shrubs. Most importantly, it takes nearly no effort. I've been doing it since I was a child, laying facedown in bed with the blankets over my head. I recommend it, for sure

These are little things that may help you feel more comfortable this fall, and through the winter, especially when we start feeling topor coming on. If you have any other helpful suggestions on how you deal with burrowing urges, feel free to share! I know I would absolutely love some pointers 💛

[mrsbsmooth]

I don't know if this is a safe space for me to share my opinion on S8 but I disagree with your take on WLW relationships in S8. As someone who is exclusively WLW, I've got to say that Season 8 is the worst season that I have ever played. It's not worth it. I regret every second that I have spent on it. I wish I never played it. I feel like I have wasted my time. Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me feel physically sick. If you're bi, you're automatically locked out of the WLW route and Bea dances for Claudia instead. If you're doing a WLW route, the two female LIs are merged together. There are only two female LIs and they're hidden behind a gem wall. You can't couple up with them until the final week. The male characters are forced on MC no matter how many times you reject them. Being LGBT is treated like a fun side mission. It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode and the other characters will keep pushing the OG guy and CA guy on you either way. If you're romancing a girl, you're made to feel like a cheater. The WLW routes in S8 are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. They are not written to be the main course. The S8 WLW routes  are something to play around with but not something to commit to. S5 was no fun but at least we could be in an unofficial relationship with Dana and we could choose to befriend Alfie. We could couple up with Vicky in S7. S8 is like S6 but somehow even worse. The openly homophobic and racist comments that I have seen some straight players make about Bea and Hari are only making it harder to feel accepted. What hurts the most is that MC was a bombshell and she was not coupled up with her OG LI before the Casa. They could have let us pick a female LI the moment MC walked into the Villa. There was no better way to justify a WLW main route. The way they waste Luna and Felicity is unbelievable. I wouldn't recommend S8 to anyone who isn't super into the male LIs

Hi lovely, of course!! Always happy to hear a different opinion as long as they're respectfully put, which yours absolutely is, and as long as you don't mind me disagreeing back!

[Note: Sarah's just pointed out to me that you asked for a safe space and my response doesn't really do that and just disagrees with you. She's right, and I apologise for not being clearer about the fact I was planning to do so when I hit post. But you are always welcome to share your opinion here. I can't guarantee a safe space, but I can guarantee an open mind.] Because I do genuinely believe that the WLW routes in S8 are better than they have been previously.

I'm not going to be addressing homophobic and racist comments about Bea and Hari. My advice for those? Stay the hell off Reddit. I'm not getting into the way this fandom talks about race, especially for Asian islanders. I just want to talk about the WLW routes as that was the main point of your ask.

I want to make sure I've acknowledged and responded to everything you said, so please see below.

[This got long AF. TL;DR at the end.]

Locked out of routes, and Male LIs being forced on you

This isn't new to this season, and in my opinion it's been done dramatically better than previous seasons. I've played all of them, and almost every single season holds the female LI back until the end. Marisol, Elisa, Najuma, Angie, Dana, Lulu, Bella, Chloe, Flo, Bonnie, I don't think you could couple up with a single one of them until the final recoupling. The only exceptions were S1 and S3, I think? I believe you could get with Talia slightly earlier (and have Sammi come in later as a LI for the guy who otherwise would be dumped), and AJ/Yasmin you could couple up with and make Tai and Ciaran get together. But that's only 2 seasons from 8.

(Note: I see you said you could couple up with Vicky in S7, and I'll be honest, I barely played S7 as I found the writing itself extremely lacklustre. So I'll have to take your word for it that they somehow made that work.)

I get that it's frustrating to be separated from a female LI until late game. It's a sentiment I've heard every single season since I started playing alongside the releases. But realistically, this is how the game is structured. Love Island, as a premise, is based on heterosexual relationships. Pairing off and being in heterosexual couples, etc. Same as something like 'the Bachelor'. Two female contestants could be together, sure. But that's not how the show is structured. The only real solutions have been in S1 and S3, both of which I've already mentioned. I'd love to see more MLM couples made canon, or creative ways of letting us couple with women earlier, but I don't think there's one simple solution. This particular show is aimed at het couples. As unfair as it may seem, that's how the game is structured. (Crossing my fingers for canon MLM couples. PLEASE!)

I also disagree that WLW routes are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. Claudia's route has been a main route since day one in the villa. The fact that you can only have a relationship with either Theo OR Claudia means they intended from the very beginning to have whichever one of that couple you choose be the slow burn route- the route that you can't get on until the very end.

To say that 'Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me physically sick'-- Congratulations and welcome to the slowburn route 😂 I feel exactly the same way when Theo REJECTS ME OUTRIGHT and says he's only interested in Claudia, or when Suresh's heartrate gets raised the most by Lulu, or when I finally couple with Jake and he tells me I should pursue Levi. Don't you think the fact that it's had such an impact on you shows how well-written she is as a female LI? Claudia is AMAZING. But she's also bisexual. She's allowed to be torn between a male and a female LI and want to explore relationships with both, and I don't think it's fair to be angry that she's playing out all her options. That just means she's a well-written bisexual character. (Side note may I remind you that you've been able to take Claudia to the hideaway, and sleep in a bed with her, whereas Theo girls were only able to KISS the dude for the first time within the last week!!!! 😭) I think the only canonical lesbian routes are Angie from S4 and A.J. from S3. But even so, they're both questioning while in-villa and only come out either towards the end or in the post-season. You can watch AJ's route on Youtube if you didn't get a chance to play. Also, you're not locked out of the WLW route if you're bi/into men. Only if you're interested in Theo specifically. This is definitely somewhere they could improve-- I wanted Theo and Claudia, but eventually went back to play a straight route for Theo. However, I DESPERATELY wanted to flirt with Bea. It would've been wonderful if we'd been able to flirt with her separately. (I think I did get this option, but I believe it may have been a glitch). An option early in the game when the female LI asks you could be:

Yes, I'm into you!

No, I'm not into you, but I might be into other women

No, I'm not into women.

The Female LIs are merging together

Welcome to Love Island the Game by Fusebox games, where all the love interests merge and the personalities don't matter. You're not alone here, and it's not NEARLY as bad as previous seasons. Watch Najuma, Bruno, and JAMES have exactly the same dialogue in S4 despite being wildly different personalities. Watch Lewie, Jamal and Ryan be completely interchangeable. This isn't exclusive to WLW routes.

The female LIs are hidden behind a gem wall.

Again, this is the same for everyone, even players on a straight route. FB are greedy.

Being LGBT is treated like a side mission

It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode

This is hard. I get why you feel like this, anon, I really do. But I genuinely do think that this is the devs trying to give you something. They know it's frustrating to have to wait so long to couple with a female LI, so they try and give you bonus opportunities along the way to connect with your love interest. Almost every single smut scene written in the scripts has a female alternative. Again, I'm not saying that it's perfect, but having looked at and manipulated the scripts for four seasons now, I can absolutely assure you that this has not always been the case. They ARE improving and giving you more opportunities to spend time with your female LI than you had in previous seasons.

TL;DR

I'm not saying S8 is a perfect season for WLW routes.

The part I'm disagreeing with is where you said it's the worst season.

I absolutely disagree with that. There are far worse seasons. Even the golden child Season 2 didn't let you couple up with a woman until right at the end, watching her graft and grind on everyone BUT you. We also don't even know for sure that we can't couple up with a girl until the last week. The game's still being released. (I won't be surprised if that's the case though.)

I think Claudia and Bea are EXCELLENT female love interests in comparison with what we've had previously. They're both beautiful, they have unique personalities, they have very different routes (Claudia's confused between you and Theo, Bea's your bestie to lover and she's got terrible taste in men, dear god please save her).

I understand WANTING more WLW routes, but from a development point of view, there are simply not enough opportunities in the real-life structure of LITG to have fully blown out WLW routes. And even if they were, FB Games are not going to be financially motivated to do so. Their main customer base ($$$) is pursing a het route, so that’s who they’re creating for. They can't even get through the hetero routes without the characters merging personalities. There are other games doing this well, including fan-made games, which I'd recommend checking out. I don't have the link handy to the game pages, but check out @thatwheelchairchick, I believe she's working on an alternative game?

Anyway, I hope that clarifies my position on why I think they're worth playing. Sorry that it turned into an essay.

[fatguarddog]

i heard you're looking for some tf scenarios so im throwin my paw in the ring! inspired by me eating a whole pie today (half done atm :3)

you're traveling out of town at a farmhouse air bnb. is gorgeous and spacious, and the crowning jewel is the pumpkin field filled with huge pumpkins, all being grown for state fair records.

as you walk into the house, the warm smell of spices fill your nose. you drop your luggage off into the mudroom and follow the scent, spotting a still warm pumpkin pie on the window sill. next to it is the note that reads "thank you for staying at my farm. as a sign of my gratitude i baked you a pie with some of my prize winning pumpkin. please enjoy while it's still hot!"

you're sure you weren't especially full when you arrived, but as you set the note down and pick up the pie, you can feel your stomach growling. you search the nearby cabinets for a knife or a plate to serve yourself a slice, but you can't seem to find one anywhere.

you grumble to yourself, annoyed that the host seemingly forgot to provide any silverware except the fork left out next to the pie. pumpkin pie and fork in hand you step outside onto the porch, settling down onto a rather large wicker bench.

you dive the fork into the pie, bringing the bite up to your lips. it smells amazing, warm fall spices and even some almond filling your nose. you take a bite and are immediately shocked at how decadent and tasty it is. you can't help but taking another bite. and another. and another...

you don't even notice how fast you're eating, practically shoveling bite after bite into your mouth. it feels like its wrapping you up into a nice warm blanket, keeping you cozy in the outdoor fall weather. you absentmindedly undo your now too-tight pants, giving your round growing stomach more room. it feels heavy and warm but not full yet, so you keep eating.

you only stop when your fork can't even scrape up another bit. the pie pan empty and your stomach now full, you set it down and lay back, leaning against the backrest, rubbing your bloated heavy gut.

its not an unpleasant fullness, but a comforting one. you feel drowsy and at peace, staring out at the pumpkin fields. you don't even realize that your stomach is still growing, your shirt looking more like a crop top now, barely covering your chest at this point. the seems of your clothes creak but you aren't really bothered, finding your clothing now restrictive and uncomfortable.

you try to remove your pants, but find you can no longer stand up, so you simply let yourself grow even more, figuring you'd burst out of them eventually. as your clothes rip and fall away from your body you can feel something fuzzy around your legs, and as you look down you see vines crawling and winding up your legs and towards your still growing stomach and arms.

you can't even be bothered to fight it as the vines hold you down in place, some even slipping up from in between the wooden planks of the porch to wrap around you and hold you down. some even snake towards your tcock, sucking and pumping it, making you moan and writhe. as your mouth hangs open a vine takes its chance and dives in, pumping what tastes like even more of that delicious pie into your mouth.

the combination of the pleasure and the vines making you even fatter cause the bench below you to creak and groan, eventually crushing under your weight. you land with a thud onto the porch, beached on your back, letting the vines take care of you. you begin to close your eyes, so sleepy from all the pie in your stomach.

as you wake up in the morning you cannot even believe how large you are. a hand pats your huge belly, rubbing it comfortingly. the farmer, a plump attractive person with long scruffy hair coos as they pet you, peering down at you. "Good morning pumpkin! So how was the pie?" they ask with a southern twang. "Delicious im sure! its a recipe i developed myself to guarantee i'd have the biggest pumpkin for the state fair this season", they say with a chuckle, patting your taught pumpkin of a stomach. "So what'ya say pumpkin? you ready to win me that blue ribbon?"

you groan, head foggy and swimming with pleasure. you could get used to being a huge pampered pumpkin.

-🐶❤️

(sorry if i wrote too much i got a lil carried away !!)

God I've been reading and re-reading this ask and getting off to it over and over since I got it 🥵

This is absolutely incredible, I don't even know what to say other than how extremely hot I think this is and how much I could get used to being a huge pampered pumpkin with vines wrapping me up and taking care of me, toying with my tdick and making sure I always have something delicious in my mouth when I need to... also god I don't know if it's what you had in mind but the idea of my skin firming up and taking on a proper pumpkin texture/hue is really really hot to me too... literally obsessed with this

(also congrats on the pie stuffing! and to you and anyone else worried about sending long asks, please don't, it's really amazing and flattering to receive something this detailed and great!)

[firstagent]

Since you enjoy questions ranking between seasons, here’s one:

Assume the concept of Digimon never existed. Rank the main cast of each season in order of how cohesive the friend group would be if they met under mundane circumstances (with 1 being the group that would still easily be a tight-knit group of friends and last place being the biggest dumpster fire)

Wavered over this a few times and realized how crucial it was to define the circumstances better. Even if they're mundane, everything changes depending on if they signed up for whatever brought them together (like a club), how long they were stuck together (like camp), and if they had to accomplish anything as a team (like a group assignment). In the end, we're going with the most mundane of the mundane scenarios, and guaranteed to get diverse groups of kids interacting... if 80s movies are any indicator:

Saturday Detention

Just the characters stuck alone in a library for eight hours. Other than pre-existing relationships and friendships, they have never met before. They have no obligation to meet after this. They're supposed to be silent and doing their own busywork, but lol no.

No weed. Probably.

Frontier- If any group could benefit from eight hours of group therapy *without* something trying to kill them every five minutes, it's these guys. Takuya's not going to keep his mouth shut for long, Junpei's going to try (and fail) to flirt with Izumi, and as irritated as Koji is with everyone's antics, everyone's going to open up fast when Koichi pipes in with "hey I think you're my brother." They'll get a lot accomplished and won't forget it afterwards.

Zero Two- Absolute madness for the first hour or so when Daisuke and Takeru get into some stupid argument that Hikari has to mediate. This will get Miyako joining in trying to get them to shut up, with Iori jumping in when he finally gets sick of it. That'll calm everyone down and get them to realize that the way Miyako interacts with Hikari and Daisuke makes her a perfect fit in their group, dragging in Iori by force. Despite sitting in the back trying not to get noticed, Ken will get roped into their antics before the end of the day, and Daisuke will insist on inviting him to all future hangouts.

Adventure: (2020)- Two key reasons this version finishes ahead of the '99 team: this Taichi and Yamato don't argue that much, and Taichi's going to insist on everyone getting involved in whatever stupidity they invent to pass the time. Some will protest. Not just Joe: Koshiro will be awkward about it and Mimi may consider their goofing off beneath her until she can't resist joining the fun. They're not baring their souls or anything, but everyone will enjoy the nonsense too much to want to give it up at the end of the day.

Adventure- There's a clear line of demarcation between Taichi/Hikari/Sora/Koshiro, Yamato/Takeru, Joe, and Mimi. With nothing pressing on them, the streams aren't going to cross as easily. They'll slowly turn around once Hikari and Takeru start playing and Joe or Sora grow receptive to Mimi insisting on socializing with them. Yamato or Sora might accidentally let something meaningful out to somebody and a few new individual bonds will certainly be forged, offering some hope that the entire group of eight becomes a fully fledged squad.

Tamers- What are they supposed to do in detention if they're not writing poignant goodbyes to their frazzled teacher? You'll definitely see Takato, Hirokazu, and Kenta properly welcome Juri into their group longterm, but the others might be more of a struggle. There won't be as much of an impetus to bring in Jianliang, and he'd be content to keep to himself while keeping his sister out of trouble. Ryo might be welcomed in if the boys don't fanboy too hard, and approaches will be made towards Ruki. It's hard to say she'd be too receptive from anyone other than Juri, who's already a bit of an outsider, so it's an awkward fit going forward.

Xros Wars- Taiki and Akari have a good bond. Yuu and Nene have a good bond. But at some point these two pairs will get snippy with each other and start co-mingling. They will barely tolerate Zenjirou, but he's attached to them whether they like it or not. Kiriha's a wild card, since Taiki's going to try to include him once the other five are established. He'll probably cave after a bit, and enough pestering might get him to reveal something deeper that makes them consider staying friends in the future. But without anything meaningful like that, they probably can only stand each other in small groups and limited doses.

Appmon- Haru is perfectly content ignoring everyone except Yuujin and his stack of books. Rei is perfectly content ignoring everyone period. Eri and Astra will attempt to strangle each other at least once in the first two hours. But you'd hope they'd settle down and at least have a conversation where they gain a begrudging respect for each other. And they're both so damn gregarious that they'd at least try to get to know the other kids in the room. Haru and Yuujin are receptive and pleasant to talk to, but not really interested in hanging out afterwards. Wildly, this team shoots up multiple spots if we let in Ai as her instant rapport with Haru, Yuujin, Eri, and Rei would create a lot of meaningful connections in a hurry.

Hunters- First instinct is to put them at the bottom since none of them even come to like each other even with a world-threatening event they need to work together to prevent. But similar to Frontier or 2020, some of them just won't shut up. Tagiru is already friends with Taiki and Yuu and will absolutely try to suss out Ryouma, Ren, and Airu. And since those three may not have known each other prior to the Hunt, it might actually work. Not becoming friends with Tagiru so much, but in coaxing them out of their shell so that they talk to the others. Ryouma and Taiki could absolutely have a conversation contentious enough that they both appreciate the candor. Yuu and Airu will still turn into Yuu and Airu. There's every reason to expect everyone to end the day counting the minutes until they never have to see each other again, but there are enough pockets of potential that they all may get together as an excuse to exploit those nuggets of interest even though they all kind of hate each other.

Savers- Touma's happy to keep to himself and Yoshino's going to feel like she's babysitting Masaru and Ikuto. Those two will be absolutely insufferable breaking every rule they can, and Touma getting annoyed and rising to Yoshino's aid could well lead to a proper fistfight. Once Yoshino doles out the icepacks, there's a glimmer of potential if they can calm down and talk through their baggage, but even if they can come to some sort of understanding and appreciation for each other, they're all very different people at different stages of their life and unlikely for it to be more than a fleeting moment.

Ghost Game- Bottom for Ghost Game? But they made a pretty cool team, I hear you say. But like Appmon, they were forced into it! And judging by how much their friends comment on how weird it is that they hang out, they're probably not doing so under normal circumstances. This scenario brings them together, with one problem: Kiyoshiro's going to be a stickler for the rules and insist that they keep to themselves. And Hiro's just going to go along with that because he's Hiro. Ruli of course will be incensed about not getting to socialize, but again Hiro's not inclined to rock the boat. As a consolation, this may be the most likely team to feature some closet action as she'd absolutely drag Hiro away from Kiyoshiro for a chance to talk. But even if they strike up some sort of manipulative friendship, Kiyo's not a part of any future plans.

Oh, and since I've been thinking about this since the 02 movie...

Honorable Mention: The Movie Triplets- Maybe not quite as potent without their partnership challenges, but try sticking Wallace, Meiko, and Lui in a room together. Lui's got an awful past, Meiko has a deep compassion for broken things, and Wallace can meet them both halfway... plus willingly starts conversations! Eight hours will forge these three into an incredible friend group... or the most uncomfortable three-sided love triangle. Or both. Probably both.

[rainbow--skies]

I don't talk about my food allergies much on here because them being the One Thing half my classmates knew about me growing up and the excessive paranoia my parents shoved on me about them genuinely makes me hate doing so, and I also don't really PERSONALLY consider my allergies a disability (but I have no problem with other people doing so).

However I have noticed that whenever they get included in disability posts on here, it's always by people without food allergies who have barely any idea what the fuck they're talking about. So many people (including people with allergies!) are SO uninformed about how they work and it's worrying so here's some stuff I wish more people knew:

An Epi-Pen does not cure you it helps with some of the symptoms so you can get to the fucking hospital. You still need to go to the fucking hospital.

Food allergies CAN kill you- many people's are not that severe but they CAN kill you. Take them seriously please

Your little "haha people with food allergies are the weakest link" jokes are harmful and offensive and part of why so many people don't take allergies seriously. Stop it. You're not funny. Find a better joke. So many mainstream TV shows even do this it's disheartening

Many people with food allergies also have eczema (I used to when I was younger) or asthma (I don't but I know people who have both), the comorbidities are very common, but not universal

Airborne allergies are not very common at all and usually do not cause severe reactions and it's weird to me that people act like this is common (it kind of feels like excuse to isolate people with food allergies when food is being served sometimes) but if someone has said they do not want to be near their allergen at all you should respect this you do not know what someone's symptoms are

Cross contamination is also something not everyone suffers from (some people have low level allergies) but many of us do (including me) and you should not get offended if someone doesn't accept food they can't see ingredients/health info for or homemade food for that reason

You can be allergic to any food to any degree- people seem to have this weird misconception that it's just peanuts, nuts, dairy, eggs, and other more publicized foods but that's not true at all

If it's possible, ask people what they would prefer as an accommodation when food is being served PLEASE. Some of us would rather eat before, some would rather bring food, some would rather alternative options be offered or restaurants they can eat at be chosen. Some are fine sitting near people eating stuff we can't, some would rather sit in a separate space, and some would rather if the food was just not eaten when they are present at all. Myself and many others that I know actually would rather sit next to someone eating something we can't because it doesn't actually affect us to be near them if we're careful enough not to touch it than to sit at separate "allergen free" tables and such because it's a socially isolating experience, but there are people who would feel more comfortable eating away from others and this is okay too.

Many of us are only allergic to one or two things, some are allergic to a ton

There are less common types of allergies that don't follow the typical pattern of food allergies- as an example I have some allergies that come from oral allergy syndrome, which basically means that my seasonal allergies to certain types of pollen makes me slightly allergic to some fruits and vegetables too

Food allergies can sometimes randomly develop in teenagers and adults, they are not always there from birth or early childhood like many people think (though it's incredibly common for them to start that early). There is not a guarantee you will never get one but your chances are higher if your family has a history of them. Sometimes they can go away or decrease in severity over time too, though, but that does NOT happen to everybody

Lactose intolerance and Celiac Disease are not food allergies! They are separate conditions with separate symptoms and needs! Please educate yourselves about those too and not assume they are synonymous with food allergies

[cowboysandpilots]

For the Love of Hockey— Ch. 1

Disclaimer: I love hockey, and I love watching it, but I have absolutely no idea of the inner workings of the NHL, what it's like to play on a team or the rules and regulations of any hockey association. Please take everything I write in this fic with a grain of salt, as I've taken a lot of creative liberties to make the story work out as I want and have planned.

A/N- Hi, I'm so happy you're here. :) If you would like to support me and my writing, please remember to hit the reblog button, as Tumblr has no algorithm and likes (while appreciated) do nothing to get creators work seen. If you would like to support me further, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. If you're curious about where your support would go, I'm currently at $80/$200 for my monthly groceries, so any support would go towards that. :)

Amazing hockey text divider was made by: @writercole ❤️ (If you have your Tumblr palette set on goth rave, it may be a little hard to see)

Bradley Bradshaw is a legacy player. His dad played hockey, both his uncles played hockey, and if he had any brothers, he's sure that they would've played too. It's not that he doesn't love the game; he does; it's just that he's under so much pressure, and he can never seem to live up to it. He plays it safe; he doesn't rush the puck or take illegal hits. He has a clean record with zero minutes in the penalty box, and he's very proud of that.

He may not be the best player, but he's got the best sportsmanship, and no matter what fans or reporters say, no one can take that away Until Hangman comes along. The man gets under his skin like no other. He's a cocky rookie, first year in the NHL and the talk of the town. He has no respect for the older players and no problems breaking the rules. He has more penalty minutes than any other rookie in the league, and somehow, people love him for it.

The first time that Bradley sees Jake's smug grin, it's on the TV. He doesn't know the kid, has never played against him, but the way he's boasting about the team he got drafted to and the way he's answering every reporter's questions like he's god's gift to hockey, has Bradley's blood boiling. He clicks off the TV and chucks his remote to the other side of his couch; he should go to bed; he's got training in the morning anyway.

Despite his best efforts, Bradley can't get to sleep. He gravitates toward his phone, which is what always happens, even though the blue light makes his tired eyes burn. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that the internet would be full of praise, love and ridiculous fawning for the rookie whose teammates had dubbed 'Hangman; he still opens Twitter and scrolls through his feed. It's like he can't help it, and why he chose to focus on this asshole instead of sleep, he'll never know.

The morning practice, surprisingly, isn't hell, even though Bradley barely slept and has to listen to his teammates go on and on about Hangman.

"What do you think about the new guy, Roo?" Mickey asks once they're off the ice and all crowded in the locker room.

"Don't think about him at all," Bradley answers coolly, passing him to get to the showers;— That's a lie. He spent last night scowling at his phone. He had to stop doing that; he needed to focus on this year's season and helping his team make it to the Stanley Cup. What kind of captain would he be if he let some cocky rookie get to him? It wasn't even guaranteed that the two teams would play against each other.

As Bradley's terrible luck would have it, the media coverage and general hysteria about Jake "Hangman" Seresin only got worse. The kid could apparently do no wrong, which only made his insufferable ego so much bigger. It gets to the point where Bradley doesn't even watch TSN anymore because Jake's smugness is practically dripping through his flatscreen; it makes his skin burn.

By some sort of miracle, Bradley has three days of blissful silence. Well, silence from hearing about Hangman anyway. Three days off to travel and get settled into a new city for another away game where he bonds with his team, doesn't watch the news, and spends most of his time on the ice. It's amazing. It's the most calm Bradley has felt in his life.

Much to the dismay of their coach, part of the team's bonding consists of going out to drink. Bradley, as captain, makes the case to Iceman, their coach, who got and kept that nickname when he, himself, played in the NHL.

"C'mon Ice, it's called team building!" Bradley grins. It was true that the team was a lot looser and in better spirits after a night out as long as they kept themselves in check and made sure the hangovers wouldn't be too bad.

Ice couldn't help but sigh and shake his head. He knew all too well what a team could get up to on a night out. It's not that he didn't trust Bradley; he did. It was hard to say no to the kid, and it didn't help that he was his uncle. Or really, his Godfather but Bradley's been calling him uncle since he was a kid, of course not anymore, now it's 'Ice' or 'Coach' and sometimes when he's in trouble, it's 'Sir'. He guesses that's how none of the other players know, he's sure that they would give Bradley a hard time if they knew so it was always an unspoken rule that neither of them would say anything.

"You'll look after them, won't you? Make sure that no one gets too drunk and nothing happens to your team?" Ice always calls the team Bradley's team, always emphasizes it when he's talking about being a role model. That's what the captain's for for everyone else to look up to, but Bradley had to admit that it was a little draining. Sometimes, he wanted to let loose like the rest of them.

Bradley nods. As always, he'll make sure that nothing gets broken, bones or otherwise, and no one gets arrested. "I'll make sure." He nods dutifully.

The day goes by in a blur after that, and when he gets back to his hotel room, Bradley takes a much-needed shower. He almost collapses into his bed with just the damp towel around his hips, but not before there's a knock on his hotel door. He pulls on his briefs, a nice pair of jeans and runs his fingers through his curls before he walks up to the door and pulls it open. The person who is standing on the other side is not to he expects.

"Hey, Bob." He offers easily.

The man makes no attempt to hide the fact that he's looking Bradley up and down but not in the way of checking him out, more like the way he's judging Bradley, buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt. "Are you wearing that to the bar?"

"I was planning on it. Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just... you want to meet girls, right?" Bob gives a small and teasing smile. He has a way of making jokes that are just on the edge of mean but somehow never make Bradley angry.

"Ha-ha," He huffs sarcastically. "I can't be a designated driver if I leave with a girl, now can I?" Bradley has to admit that he would like to meet someone, but it wasn't really on the top of his priority list.

The bar is much too loud and crowded for a sober Bradley. The sound of the bass buzzes behind his eyes, and it makes him want to slip his sunglasses on, but there are only two types of people who wear sunglasses inside, blind people and douchebags. Bradley was neither.

He was making his way back to the bar for a second round at his teammate's request when he was knocked into. He doesn't exactly know what happened, but he knows he wasn't carrying a drink, so why is his shirt all wet? "Fuck." He grunts, looking down to assess the damage.

"What the hell, man? You know you owe me a drink." The voice is accusatory, like the entire thing was Bradley's fault and not the guy whose words are slurring enough; he probably didn't need that drink anyway.

Bradley looks up, lips parted, ready to tell the asshole off, except he recognizes that asshole; it's the same one who's been lighting up his TV screen and making him roll his eyes so much he's surprised they're not stuck. Jake Seresin.

A/N- Thanks so much for reading! Right now, this fic is looking like it's gonna have at least 10 chapters, and because I'm a crazy person, I've already started outlining a sequel. Lol until next time, friends. 💕

Tagging people who said they were interested: @cryinginthebronco @jojobeaner @rigmarole-07 @agent-elle @nerdygirl1234 @milobyelo @callsign-crow @itshoneywhatever @flowersonmymind1016 @seresinning @bloodanddiamonds

[1eos]

Miss kendra would u reccomend getting a switch? Ive been think of getting back into video games but im not sure if i should get a handheld or a home console.

if a majority of the games you're interested in are switch exclusives its worth it, but if you want to play games that are also on steam, ps4/5, xbox etc i would recc getting a console bc the switch is the worst abt planned obselescence. like its the least durable system ive ever encountered in my life its actually infuriating.

good points:

if u like handheld gaming the switch lite is excellent. you can save $150, there a cute colors, and the battery life and graphics are excellent. going back to my ps vita after the switch is like whoaaa the display on the lite is just that good.

memory cards for switches arent too expensive and u can get a big sized one for a good deal and not have to worry about space

good game library. i got the switch to play persona strikers, botw, animal crossing, and god eater 3 and it was worth it....and most of these games were worth it

since the switch is super popular its easy to get pre owned units for a decent discount from reputable places

bad points:

the joycons on the switch WILL go out. like no ifs and or buts they get terminal levels of drift in a year, year and a half of any kind of regular play. nintendo knows this and they don't give a fuck. if you have a switch console they used to send u joycons replacements for free but if u have a lite they have to fix it and YES they will charge you :) i got a discount only bc i said i wasn't gonna pay $80 for their negligence.

also 4 or so years later the flap on the game slot has broken and the left trigger doesnt work on my lite. mind u my first ps vita is almost 12 years old and had NO hardware issues (only a memory card issue) and i put more work into that vita in one year than i have in 3 years w my switch. so just be mindful that you will have hardware issues guaranteed

-game prices. switch games rarely if ever go on sale even if theyre 400000 years old and its actually evil. if there are a lot of games u want to play im honestly gonna recommend getting a ps4/ps5 first bc u can get games on sale digitally and physically at a MUCH better price

-a LOT of switch exclusive games drop half baked. this is true of a lot of consoles but with the switch its even more egregious bc of the insane price point. i regret getting animal crossing when it dropped out of nostalgia bc it arrived w virtually no content. one of the newer story of seasons was wayyyyy too empty too easy etc etc. with switch exclusive games in particular you should always wait for unbiased reviews bc most of these games beyond botw dropped bare bones as hell

[questionablecuttlefish]

"Stay" Chapter 9 - In Meteor's Shadow

He found her on the lower viewing deck, the wind whipping her braid behind her as if in agitation. In sharp contrast, she stood silent and pensive, staring off into the horizon. The sky’s pale light, coming into dusk, painted her cheeks a dusky pink and her lips radiant. Not for the first time, Cloud was struck by the contradictions of Aerith, the humility and humanity she wore on her sleeve with the otherworldly quality that always kept her a little apart from everyone around her. Lonely, like him, in a crowd. Today, he couldn’t read her expression at all. Sometimes, Cloud took her for granted. Just another figure at his side, a chipper voice breaking into his private thoughts, annoying and distracting him. Other times, she radiated. He could barely look at her; she was so beautiful in her sadness and her serenity that it hurt him. Now was such a time. ***

Hi folks! This is the last pre-written material I have for Stay and I have tried to space it out as best I can. From here there might be a pause as I try to pick up from where I wrote in 2020 and fashion a new ending for the story, because I didn't have a concrete plan with the original and it fizzled out after this chapter. Please be patient with me because I'm also juggling massive work commitments and a couple of Arcane / League of Legends fanfics that I'm determined to finish before Season 2 drops in November. If you like my writing and you're interested in those, check out "Ill-Omen's Light" and "Ill-Omen's Game". I can't guarantee if or when I'll be able to finish "Stay", but I very much want to, if I can get far enough on 'Game' that I feel i can comfortably finish it before S2, I will prioritize finishing this one too. Bear with me, and thank you for staying with this fic.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

How TVD Could Have Been 10,000 Times Better:

(Some Creative Writing Disguised as an Essay)

Look, I think we're all aware that TVD sucks. But that doesn't mean it had to be that way. The CW ruined plenty of shows; SPN, TVD, TO, Legacies, Arrow - I could go on. In spite of weak plot or disappointing endings, these shows had some excellent character concepts and could have been so much better if someone had put just a touch of creative thought into them.

Now, I can't pretend to know much about acting or the world of production, and I can't say I could actually direct anything effectively, but I do have something of an artistic eye. So if I had been the one to direct something like TVD, then I can guarantee that at least the cinematography and music choice would have been ten times better.

Allow me to demonstrate.

Example One:

Do y'all remember the scene where Klaus breaks his curse? (Of course you do.) Let's face it, there are plenty of very cheap, practical tricks that could have made that scene feel ten times as natural and formidable. But, for now, let's just focus on camera and music. The ending to that particular episode with that big, frightening cliffhanger was alright. But you know what could have made it that much better?

Some gosh darn cinematography. So, picture this, if you will:

The full moon has passed it's apex and now sets over the tops of the trees - the forest beyond is black as night. On the edge of the trees, a lone wolf - wild and fierce - is seen prowling into the woods and the camera spins, flipping upside down and you realize... The moon isn't going down at all, it's only just begun to rise. The eerie howls of a wolf pack can be heard in the distance as Feelin' Good by Michael Buble plays full blast....

Significantly better, right? Let's have another.

Example Two:

In season 4, Kol (aka the love of my life) slaughters a bar full of freshly turned vampires. Such would have been an excellent opportunity to exploit the show's TV-14 rating for use of gore, and seeing as vampires aren't technically human, that gives a show a little extra leniency with its gore total. (TVD rarely used gore to it's fullest potential, just a little bit of set dressing and makeup can really drive a scene home. Just watch The Originals: The Awakening web series. That was well used gore.)

Now, even after all the show did to dismiss him, Kol is still a reasonably intimidating character. However, that extra carnage allotment could have been used to create a truly terrifying antagonist. Instead, the show chose to reduce a one-thousand-year-old being's massacre of a dozen or more relatively innocent people to some vague off-screen unfortunate mishap. This was - pardon my French - AN ABSOLUTE PUSSY MOVE!

They could have shown the kills and brought all the horror, without breaking the season's gore total. How? Why like this of course...

The woods are quite dark, but not black. The old pine trees lining a well-traveled dirt road are individually discernable but only just, lit in tones of grey. It's just barely sunrise, yet shadowy figures seem to flit through the dim light. The camera angle is set on the ground, like a person lying in the dirt.

An early morning fog creeps along, pooling in the clearing provided by the path as it carves its way through these forboding woods. The fog rolls and shifts - you're unsure if something or someone has disturbed it. You wait - another moment, another heartbeat - and then you see it: A tall, shadowed silhouette appears through the fog - small and faint at first but growing clearer, stronger as he approaches, much like the music that begins to play - heard by the viewers through the dark figure's headphones. The terrible stranger stalks closer and closer, seeming to grow larger than life, thanks to the camera angle which changes as he passes. The camera moves with him, circling around him once in one continuous shot before settling just a short distance behind. The song heard in his headphones is Stayin' Alive by Bee Gees' and he sways to the beat - casually, carelessly - as he walks toward that absolute dump of a bar.

The figure opens the door and the music becomes just a bit muffled as the door swings shut behind him. The song continues for a moment - just a second or three - calm and ordinary as one would expect and then

BAM!

BLOOD SPRAYS ACROSS A WINDOW!

Suddenly, the audio is no longer confined to those headphones; it expands outward, and now intertwined with the music, the audience hears the screams, the pleas, and the tortured cries of those poor souls as they're slaughtered like pigs. One by one, the screams cut off until it's once again only the music. Then, just as you thought it was all finally over, there's a loud crash - the door opens with a bang and you see a pair of hands latch onto the doorframe. They scrabble and scratch, burning under the faintest touch of sunlight. Something tugs at them, drawing them back inside, but they fight! Then, with a spray of blood across the camera, the hands go slack and are yanked back inside.

The screen goes black and the music stops...

See what I mean?

With just a little bit of camera creativity and a dash of practical effects, TVD could have been so much better, right?