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scullydubois · 3 years

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Only the Light Ch. 13

As Scully copes with her diagnosis, Mulder joins her for the Scully family Christmas dinner. Plus, Melissa's girlfriend meets the family.

TW for disordered eating, cigarette smoking, references to abduction/medical rape.

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Self destruction is a natural impulse for Dana Scully, though she’ll try to deny it. Take one unexplained abduction, add a dash of premature menopause, and sift out time spent proving Mulder wrong, and you’ll get a struggling Scully.

She can tell she’s entering a bad mental state when food becomes a suggestion rather than a necessity. Every bite is either earned according to whatever trivial rules she’s set for herself in that particular moment, or is not deserved and therefore not eaten. It’s a game where she’s the coach, player, and referee, yet she still loses every time. Nourishment is both prize and punishment, feeding her hunger but vacating her control.

This habit started when she was a teenager and wracked with feelings her petite frame couldn’t contain. It felt much safer than the route her siblings had taken of sneaking out in the middle of the night or using fake IDs to buy alcohol or skipping church on the regular. As far as fifteen-year-old her was concerned, she wasn’t bothering anyone by foregoing some meals. Her mother disagreed and called her out every time, humiliating her into her second coping mechanism, smoking.

There were the times when Scully was really young and enticed by her sister’s cigarettes, but that was simple preteen rebellion. What developed when Dana was seventeen was something different entirely. A survival mechanism with poison inside, snuffing herself out while keeping her alive and sane. She would walk to the gas station and buy packs of Marlboros with coins from her piggy bank. The laws were lax in the 80s, the prices too. She would blow rings of smoke while walking home, then hide the pack in her bra and swish some mouthwash. She’d repeat the process to and from school, steadily acquiring a nasty nicotine habit. It continued until the summer before college, when she made herself go cold turkey so as not to take the habit with her. As far as she knows, neither her parents nor any of her siblings ever knew about it.

It resurfaces in times of stress, though normally for no more than a single pack. Lately she’s accustomed to keeping a pack and a lighter with her at all times. Her building is smoke free so she steps outside, but her car is off limits because she doesn’t want the smell to cling to her. It is a hassle, but then again, so are most things.

Missy knows about the poor eating habits--those are hard to hide from someone who shares the same space as you. Nevermind the fact that the scale shows six less pounds than before, and that adds up when the number’s not that large to begin with. Scully’s edges protrude now...that can’t be hidden.

Missy never says a word. She remembers Dana complaining about their mother’s condescending comments about her weight, and she knows the damage that does to a young psyche. Instead, she offers. Healthy meals, guilty pleasure meals, all her sister’s favorites. She cooks more than she ever has before, well aware that her sister will struggle to refuse her.

“I recognize what you’re doing,” Missy told her sister when she tried to turn away a caesar salad, of all things. “I’ve been known to do that too,” Missy admitted. “Eat. You’re hungry, you just think not eating will give you some form of control over your body, or your life...but wasting yourself away is letting the bastards win.”

And so she did, that time at least. Scully has enough shame regarding her habit to push it aside whenever confronted---that’s how she insists to herself that it’s not an eating disorder. She can stop on command. That makes it okay, right?

Getting back into the office helped her a lot---you can’t starve yourself and function as an FBI agent. Besides, she would dissolve into thin air if Mulder figured out what she was doing. He was the one who batted around the idea of Scully helping prep each case and supervising any tests he might need the crime lab to do while he’s in the field. He understood that in lieu of therapy, she needed something to take her out of her own mind.

It was as much for him as it was her; at this point, it’s almost incomprehensible to him that the X-Files had existed before her. Of course he was the laughingstock of the FBI! He had huddled in the basement by himself with UFOs and blurry Bigfoot sightings pinned on the wall like a shrine to his own delusion.

Her fall from grace was his absolution. He’ll make an angel of her, somehow. Even if it means he has to meet the devil.

Scully has no interest in becoming an angel, though she’d sure like to avoid hell, and that hasn’t worked out too well. Locker room jokes are one thing. Underestimation another. But assault? Rape? Trauma and torture because she is who she is doing what she does? She is not a quitter, and that is killing her.

Her barrenness haunts her because it was bestowed upon her as punishment, an implication that she only has worth as a walking womb. She wants to be seen as a person, not a pawn.

The arrival of the holiday season is another weight on her shoulders. It used to be Scully’s favorite time of year; now the sight of carolers makes her want to poke her eyes out. It’s the first Christmas without her father, and that is simply unimaginable. Her and Missy spent a quiet Thanksgiving with their mother---small portions and whispered thanks--in preparation for an elaborate family Christmas. Bill Jr. and Tara are flying in from California for the annual Christmas dinner and midnight mass. They will all try to move forward, pretend it’s just like any other year, but it’s not and it never will be again. Happy Christmases are over for the Scully family.

And yet, they will try to enjoy the moment. Missy told her mom that she’s bringing a friend, which is completely true. Trinity is her closest friend that she doesn’t share blood with. That said, she plans to use the occasion to introduce Trinity as her girlfriend, come what may.

Then there was the suggestion that their mother made, which caught her youngest daughter completely off guard. “Why don’t you bring Fox?” Margaret Scully proposed demurely during their weekly phone call. “I’m making a zoo’s worth of food, I could use another mouth to feed. I hate to see any of it go to waste.”

“Mulder’s spending Christmas with his family, I’m sure,” Scully had replied. “But I’ll pass along the offer.”

That was how Scully learned that Mulder’s family isn’t much for celebration, that he usually spends the holiday flipping between It’s A Wonderful Life and the 24 hour marathon of A Christmas Story, and that he has a particular fascination with the idea of midnight mass.

“I just don’t get it,” Mulder mused. “You believe that a jolly old man with flying reindeer leaves presents in your house, but you think he waits until after you’ve gotten home from celebrating Baby Jesus’ birthday? Didn’t you ever look for his sleigh in the sky on the drive home?”

“No, Mulder,” Scully sighed. “I just believed that he knew when we were tucked in bed. Santa’s all-seeing, you know,” she teased.

Mulder chuckled. “Kind of presumptuous to assume he functions on your schedule, huh?”

Ultimately, Mulder said yes. He figured attending the Catholic equivalent of Jesus’ birthday party would be another check off his supernatural bucket list, though he did not say this part out loud for fear of Dana Scully’s wrath. Besides, what else was he gonna do on Christmas Eve? Shake the shoebox of junk he stuck under his mini-basketball hoop so he felt like he was getting a gift?

And so the fateful day arrives. Mulder flips his Garfield page-a-day calendar to December 24th, chuckles at the comic strip of the orange cat eating all his owner’s Christmas cookies, and makes his way to his partner’s increasingly familiar doorstep. The sun has already slipped behind the trees by the time he arrives. It gives up easily in the winter.

He rings the bell and hears Scully’s dainty footsteps on the other side. She’s snuck up on him enough times for him to have developed a keen sense of her light footing--no more jump scares for him.

“Hey Scully,” he stammers as she opens the door. She had told him to look “festive,” so he donned his nicest green sweater (a gift from his mom from J. Crew...he had never worn it) and slacks. Scully rounds out their show of holiday spirit with a velvet red blouse and black trousers.

“You look lovely,” Mulder says reflexively, unsure when he started using such a word. Scully pulls at her shirt, obscuring the bit of cleavage that has revealed itself. “Thanks Mulder,” she mutters, ushering him inside.

He holds up the shiny silver gift bag he hastily stuffed with tissue paper. “Some candy canes I picked up at the gas station. I figured the whole family could enjoy them.”

Scully nods, amused by his feeble attempt at gifting. “I’m sure they won’t go to waste.”

A fire crackles in the fireplace. It’s so hot in the apartment that Mulder is surprised it hasn’t melted the snow outside on the sidewalk.

“Where’s Melissa?” he asks, hoping they will hit the road sooner than later.

“She’s picking up her girlfriend from the airport. She couldn’t get an earlier flight.”

“Dulles?” He sure hopes not. It’s all the way across town.

“No, Reagan.”

Whew. Much closer.

“She should be back any minute now,” Scully continues. “Trinity’s flight got in at 3:30.”

Mulder rolls his sleeves up. “So your family doesn’t know about Trinity?”

Scully shakes her head.

“Do they know that Melissa’s…” He gestures, unsure which word to fill the space with.

“Bi? No.”

“So she shows up with Trinity, and then what?”

Scully shrugs. “She introduces her as her girlfriend. Mom already knows Missy is bringing a guest so she’ll have a plate for her.”

“You’re not worried about how the family’s gonna react?”

“Well, I’m sure Bill is gonna be a dick about it, but that’s normal. We only see him once a year, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Bill’s your brother?”

“Uh-huh. And Tara is his wife. They got married about a year and a half ago.”

Even as he pushes into his thirties, it still surprises Mulder that anyone close to his age could be married. He doesn’t even sleep in a bed.

“You think your mom’s gonna be cool with Trinity?” he asks.

“I think she loves her daughter enough to be.”

“Mmm.” Mulder sticks his hands in his pockets. If only he had dilemmas like this. He imagines him and Samantha speculating about their mother’s reaction to Sam’s nose piercing or dyed hair or...anything really. He would give so much to have someone to laugh about his uncle’s sideburns with.

His emotional deep-dive is promptly cut off by the entrance of Melissa and a brunette woman whose bangs graze her eyebrows, her hair falling just below her shoulder. “Hi!” she chirps, taking in the magnificence of Dana Scully. “Dana, I presume?”

Scully nods.

“May I hug you?” Trinity asks, hazel eyes shining.

“Sure,” Scully says, feeling the brisk air against Trinity’s coat as she’s pulled in.

Scully lets go first, and Trinity takes that as a cue to pull away. “You look just like Mel, wow,” she remarks, fighting the urge to run her fingers through Scully’s hair.

Scully smiles softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” Trinity assures, exchanging a gooey gaze with Missy. Next, her attention falls upon Mulder, who does an awkward half-wave. “Hello!” She points between Mulder and Scully. “Boyfriend?”

Mulder chokes. Scully picks up his slack--”Oh, no. This is Fox Mulder, my partner at the FBI.”

“Ahh,” Trinity smiles knowingly. “Yes, I’ve heard about you. I didn’t know you would be joining us for Christmas.”

“Christmas is not exactly my family’s cup of tea, so I figured I’d get an authentic experience with the Scullys.”

“Same! I’m looking forward to Mama Scully’s ginger snaps. I’ve heard fantastic things about them.”

Mulder elbows his partner playfully. “Damn, Scully! How could you leave me in the dark about ginger snaps?”

Scully rolls her eyes but smiles. “I apologize, Mulder. Though for the record, the fruitcake is better.”

“Says no one, ever,” Mulder teases.

She grins. Now this is Christmas.

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Taking a seat at Margaret Scully’s dinner table feels like existing inside a Christmas movie, in Mulder’s mind. Fancy china, green and red serving platters, paper mache snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and a porcelain nativity scene; the dining room has it all. Not to mention the heaping piles of food there for the taking...if this is Christmas, Mulder wants in every year.

Scully does not share his cinematic fantasy. She knows better, having actually attended one of her family’s dinners before. Bill will get too drunk and start saying whatever comes to mind, their mother will laugh along like he’s still a five year old babbling about nothing (as opposed to the thirty-something spewing bullshit that he actually is), Missy will attempt to debate him to get him to shut up (which never works), and she will sit there and wish to be somewhere, anywhere else. And all without their father to hold the reins and keep a fight from breaking out.

The night has gone smoothly enough, Scully supposes. Missy introduced Trinity as her girlfriend in a very non-ceremonial way, forcing Bill and their mother to nod and accept it, in the moment at least. Mulder received a hug from Margaret and a pat on the shoulder from Bill, so pretty much the highest token of approval. Mulder’s candy canes earned a place in the center of the dessert table, which gave him way more satisfaction than it should have, and he couldn’t help but feel that if they were to vote on favorite man at the party, he would win. A room with Bill Jr. in it is probably the only place he would ever earn this honor, and he’ll take that.

Yet everything unwinds as Scully suspected. Bill waits until everyone has packed plates and full mouths to unleash his particular hyperfixation for the night.

“Trinity?” he questions, raising his fork diagonal across the table toward her. “Is that your name?”

Trinity smiles and nods, oblivious to what she’s in for.

“And you know Melissa how…?”

She pats a napkin to her mouth. “We worked at the same restaurant in Oregon.”

He chuckles gruffly. “What was it, one of those gay bar things?”

“No, an Italian bistro,” Trinity continues calmly.

Missy, however, is not so calm. “Gay people can go places other than gay bars,” she retorts. “We’re not segregated. Though I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bill sets a fist on the table, clanging his silverware. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Why the hell do you insist on being so politically correct all the time? I’d shoot myself.”

“Gee, maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Now Melissa…” Margaret Scully’s voice rises above the clamor.

“I have the right to defend my girlfriend and I against Bill’s thinly disguised homophobia,” Missy responds.

“You act like I give a damn what you and your friend do,” Bill sneers. “That’s not my business.”

“Then stop pretending like it is.”

“Oh boo-hoo, little Missy thinks the world revolves around her.”

“Bill, honey, I think that’s enough,” Tara says, laying a protective hand on his arm.

“You’re right.” He raises his can of beer toward Mulder. “Whaddya doin here, hot shot? Trying to seduce my sister?”

Scully frowns, but doesn’t say anything, pushing food around on her plate.

Mulder seems rather unbothered by Bill’s advances. He chuckles. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around.”

Bill snorts. “That’s a likely story.”

“You don’t think I’m worth your sister’s time?”

“I don’t think Dana thinks you're worth her time. You’re not her type.”

“I am sitting right here, you know,” Scully says, staring daggers at her brother.

“Then tell us Dana! Is hot shot here your type?”

Her eyes brush Mulder’s face. His cheeks flush, reddening like a stormy sunset. She wishes she could read his mind. The safe answer and the true answer are not often the same. “I think Mulder is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky to know him,” she answers stiffly, her annoyance aimed at Bill.

“Oh, the old run-around!” Bill scraps his fork against his plate. ”Typical.”

Scully grabs her now empty canned cocktail and sulks into the kitchen, leaving her chair pushed away from the table. Everyone watches her go, but Bill gives off the only visible reaction. He laughs. “Scared her away. Thought it would take more.”

Mulder and Melissa exchange a glance. She nods, granting him permission to play knight-in-shining-armor. Quietly, Mulder slips out of his chair and pushes it back into place. He catches the kitchen door as it swings closed behind his partner.

Her anger concealed from the rest of the family, Scully drops her can in the recycling bin with a bang. She ignores Mulder, instead opening the refrigerator and pulling out another cocktail, saying nothing.

“What is this, your fifth drink?” Mulder brushes his hand over her shoulder, and she recoils. “Leave me alone, Mulder.” She slams the fridge and tries to turn around, but he’s cornered her.

“C’mon Scully, Bill’s harmless. He doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s not fucking about Bill,” she fumes, alcohol fizzing through her bloodstream. She inhales, trying to keep it together in front of the man who has done nothing wrong to her. “Please get out of my way.”

“What’s wrong?” He frames her shoulders with his hands, creating their own little bubble.

“Don’t touch me!” she growls. Mulder knows as soon as hears it: he will never forget the pure anguish in her voice. As she retreats to the corner, he looks down at his palms, the stovetop that burned her...he would cut them off if he could.

Unfortunately, the commotion attracts the Scully’s like a dog whistle. Bill leads the charge into the kitchen, getting a full view of his sister hunched over by the back door while her partner stands by the fridge like an idiot. “Ooo, a lover’s spat!” he exclaims, only nominally concerned about Dana’s well-being.

“Shut up, Bill,” Missy hisses. To everyone’s relief, he does.

Mrs. Scully comes forward, maneuvering around Mulder to get to her daughter. “Are you alright, Dana?”

Scully keeps her back to the crowd. “I just need a minute.” She taps her pocket, confirms that she slipped her pack of cigarettes in. “I’ll be outside. Everyone can go back to dinner, please.”

She twists the doorknob and steps onto the back deck without waiting for any response. Mulder feels the tug of tears in his throat, like a dormant animal waking up in him. He is used to being hurt (though not by Scully, never her), but inflicting the hurt is a whole other beast. He doesn’t know what he’s done, but he doesn’t need to. The look in her eyes, put there by what he thought was a harmless touch, made his heart tremble. He is frozen in place, grateful when Melissa appears at his side as the rest of the party returns to the dining room.

“I didn’t mean to upset her, I was trying to make her feel better about Bill…” he laments.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. It’s not you specifically, she’s going through a lot right now--you know.”

Mulder rubs his neck. “I don’t know if I do.”

“She hasn’t shared her diagnosis?”

His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Diagnosis?! Is she okay?”

Missy sighs. “I think you two need to talk. If she gets pissed, tell her I sent you.”

��Wait, wait, wait. Tell me if she’s okay.”

“She’s okay. It’s not fatal or anything.”

“She would tell me, if it was...wouldn’t she?”

Missy bites her lip. “I don’t know, Fox---Mulder. I would hope so, but I was under the impression you already knew about this, and you see how that’s gone.”

Mulder turns toward the back door, desperation living in his voice. “I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta check on her.”

Missy nods. “Don’t let her weasel her way out of this one. I’m expecting a heart-to-heart, mushiness and all.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

He turns the back doorknob and slips through the door, trying to imitate his partner’s ninja skills. The old wood on the door frame shakes as he shuts it. He winces--so much for the sneak attack.

Mulder follows the arc of the deck, winter’s bite colliding with him. He didn’t have a chance to grab his jacket, and now that he’s thinking about it, Scully didn’t either. He can grin and bear it but she is all skin and bones, now more than ever. It scares him to see her like that, but it’s none of his business, he feels, to comment on her body. He can break her fall, but he must not provide an extra push.

The wind has no friends to protect nor foes to defeat, so it will give away anyone. It carries the unmistakable tarnish of smoke to Mulder’s nose, an ashy haze that has come to remind him of Skinner’s office and the shadow lingering in the corner. He almost expects to find him there with his Morleys and his sadistic laugh. Instead, he finds a redhead and her Marlboros shrinking against the December cold snap.

“Bum a cig, ma’am?” He scoots up to her, ready to retrieve his own smoke from her long, slender fingers.

“Mulder!” She pulls the cigarette away from her, holding her last puff captive in her lungs.

He wiggles his fingers like an impatient child. “We’re all gonna die someday, right?”

Her jig up, she rolls her shoulders back and releases the smoke with a great rise and fall of her chest. It mingles in the air with the chill of her breath, becoming one and the same as they leave the contours of her body. Head tilted back and lips parted, she is alive with nicotine’s ease and intoxication’s freedom.

It is better than porn, according to one Fox William Mulder. He’ll keep this observation to himself for now.

“Did your parents never teach you that sharing is caring?” he rambles. “C’mon, give me a light!”

“It’s a nasty habit, Mulder.”

“I’m a connoisseur of those,” he replies loosely. “Now, you’re not gonna make me put you in a headlock are ya?”

Scully rolls her eyes. She’s never felt less threatened in her life. “You’re exhausting, do you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a time or two.”

She pulls a cigarette from her carton and slips it into his fingers. They are warm; hers are ice-cold. “I wanted to be alone.” She hands him the lighter, watches as he generates heat from thin air.

He lights his cig and sticks the lighter in his pocket rather than handing it back to her. “According to my calculations, you should be very drunk right now. Other than your Oscar bait performance back there, you’ve got things pretty under control I’d say.”

Scully gestures at her cigarette smoking, teeth chattering self. “Yeah, I’m the picture of health.”

“Do you have some exceptional alcohol tolerance I should know about, because that’d make you very valuable in undercover work.”

Scully gazes out into the distance. She’d smile if she were to look at him right now, and that doesn’t feel right for the situation. “Those drinks have low alcohol content, Mulder. You can buy them at Dollar General.”

“You ever looked at their hand sanitizer? It’s like 95% alcohol.”

“Well, now I know where you go to get your fix.”

He chuckles. “You got me.”

She stuffs her hands in her pockets and he wishes, god he wishes, that he had grabbed his jacket. He’d take off his sweater if she wanted him to--stand there with his bare chest to the cold--but he has a feeling that would only exacerbate the situation.

He tries a more gentlemanly route. “Do you want me to grab your jacket? I won’t give away your trade secrets.”

She folds herself together. “No, it’s okay. It’ll make me get a move on at some point.”

They stand united in their rebellion, blowing smoke and freezing their asses off. Who needs Christmas cheer when you’ve got Christmas resentment?

Mulder sways a bit to keep his blood circulating. He is careful not to bump her. “You wanna tell me why you’re out-Scrooging Scrooge this year?” he prompts as gently as he can.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it hasn’t exactly been the best year of my life.”

“I gathered that, yeah.”

“And it’s the first Christmas without my father…” her voice warbles.

“Shit, right. I’m sorry,” Mulder murmurs.

“...So it just doesn’t feel very celebratory.” She takes a long drag. Mulder can tell that this secret smoking habit is not new to her, and he wonders when she picked it up, how long she has kept it from him.

He takes a deep breath, watches as it is written in the air. “Melissa told me you received a diagnosis, and I think we’ve already established that sharing is caring…”

Scully looks him in the eyes for the first time since he joined her. It has the sudden intensity of a black-and-white film, Scully the 1940s scarlet and he the leading man who pales in comparison to her. There is no one he’d rather be overshadowed by.

“It’s humiliating,” she croaks. “Missy and my mom are the only ones who know.”

“I’ve got the monopoly on humiliation in this partnership, so I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, flicking some ashes to the ground.

“This is a particular form of humiliation you can’t experience, I’m afraid. Or at least, it wouldn’t impact you the same way.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She sighs. “My abductors removed all of my eggs, causing my menstrual cycle to shut down and me to enter perimenopause.”

His breath catches in his throat. “Jesus christ.”

“Uh-huh.”

He throws his cigarette on the ground and stamps it out, though it could have burned longer. “That’s fucking horrifying, Scully. You’ve got to inform the Bureau. We’ve got to catch these--whatever they are. We’ve got to make them pay.”

“No, Mulder. It’s too much. I don’t want to keep reliving it, I want to be able to move on with my life.”

“How can you move on when they’re still out there, probably doing it to more women?”

She shakes her head, feeling the snag of tears and holding them back for fear they might freeze on her face. “I don’t know, but I can’t think about it like that. It sort of...shatters everything, the idea that this could be a phenomenon happening to other women in secret. I wouldn’t believe it if it didn’t happen to me. I still don’t believe it.”

Mulder shudders. He can’t discern whether it’s from the cold or their conversation. “Do you think it was men who took you? Or do you believe Duane Barry?”

“It seems like a level of monstrosity that only man could achieve. It requires a certain understanding of society, gender roles...dehumanization that only humans could perpetuate.”

Mulder nods. Her reasoning tracks, but the thought of him failing to outsmart humans who stole away his partner is something he cannot fully process. It makes sense that he couldn’t find her if she was in space, but if she was on the face of the Earth, he had no damn excuse.

“You were just gone, Scully...you were just gone.” His aching is so palpable, his voice a cliff’s edge they could both tumble down.

“I know I was.” She takes one last puff, then lets her cigarette fall to the ground. She crushes it with her heel, her force premeditated and brutal. That pain is for the ones who took her, the ones who have obviously never loved a thing at all.

Head bowed, she moves toward the door, but not without grasping for Mulder’s elbow, assuring that he is following behind. He is and he will be, for as long as she lets him.

Inside, the home’s manufactured warmth hits them, unreal in comparison to the cold they have known. The kitchen is as quiet as it was before their ordeal, the dining room empty aside from Mrs. Scully clearing serving platters.

“Where did everyone go?” Scully asks, momentarily alarmed that she may have ruined the entire gathering.

“We’re going to drive around and look at lights before mass. Everyone’s getting ready.”

“Oh.” She looks to Mulder, as if to check that he hasn’t left her stranded. “I think I’ll stay here,” she tells her mother. “Make a cup of hot chocolate and relax for a bit.”

“Well, you’ll be missed. Fox, would you like to join us?”

He takes a leap, hopes he’s got the right idea. “I’ll stay here, but thank you.”

“As you wish,” Mrs. Scully says with a slight smile. Mulder had never noticed her resemblance to her daughter until that moment. It was like looking at a sketch of a famous painting; the lines are there but the colors missing.

Soon enough the crowd leaves and Scully and Mulder settle on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa. Margaret Scully’s tree forms the centerpiece of the living room, and it’s hard not to admire its gold and red decorations and the shiny angel on top.

“That’s gorgeous. Does she do it every year?” Mulder asks, ignoring the steam rising out of his mug and going right in for the kill.

Scully nods. “Every year since we were kids. There used to be a lot more homemade ornaments, but I guess she swapped those for a more elegant look now that we’re grown.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.” He looks at her, curled up with the glow of the fireplace falling upon her, and he feels warmth and safety like never before. It would be so easy to slip in “and so are you,” it is practically begging to be said. But she wouldn’t believe him if he said it now; she would think it was a pity compliment. Instead, he mouths the words, and she is not looking, and that is okay.

She snuggles deeper into the cushions, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander. She is the most at ease she has been in months--here in the house she lived in during high school with the fireplace crackling and her partner by her side--and that’s not what she expected from Christmas Eve. Heaven strokes her skin, and she blinks her eyes open to find Mulder tucking her in with her mother’s microfiber blanket. She smiles her soft Scully smile. “Thank you,” she coos, burrowing herself deeper into the blanket’s embrace.

“You’re welcome,” Mulder whispers into her ear. His fingers tangle in her hair as he pulls her toward him, his lips meeting her temple. She catalogues the feeling for her memory bank: chapped but carrying the hot chocolate’s warmth. She will spend the next while convinced that it was a dream, a fleeting image in the moments before sleep, but she will carry the feeling until she feels it again.

#in true x files fashion it's an angsty christmas with some fluff at the end #just pretend that christmas hasnt passed haha #guest starring: bill jr being a dick #and missy's gf <3 #if you continue to follow this I'm literally in love with you thank you #the x-files #only the light fic #txf #txf fic #missy and scully fic #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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friendlyneighborhoodspider-man · 4 years

Text

Broken Promises (pt. 3)

A/N:

If you haven’t already read parts 1 and 2, you can find them below. I definitely reccommend reading them prior to this because this probably won’t make much sense if you don’t.

part 1 part 2

There were a lot of directions this could go. I had a lot of people ask me to write it different ways, but in the end, this is what I felt. I am debating continuing this storyline with drabbles between the reader, Jason, and Roy (and possibly Zatanna or Dick?) Please like, comment, and send me suggestions/asks!

Love, Z

~~~~~~

It wasn’t until a month later that you were able to go back to the apartment to clear out the rest of your things. The affair had completely derailed your life, but it was nothing compared to what Dick was going through. After the word got out to the press about his cheating scandal, his name was pretty much toast. The only person to reach out to you to apologize for the whole mess was Alfred, but you had a feeling that for the most part no one wanted to confront it.

Jason and Roy on either side, you stepped through the threshold, memories sweeping over you like a wave. The living room that the two of you had painted together in fits of giggles and kisses now felt cold. Memories of lazy Sunday mornings spent on the couch eating waffles and watching the news, and long nights spent wrapped in each other and a blanket watching Netflix were tainted by the afterimages still burned in your brain of him and your best friend consecrating the apartment in their own special way.

Zatanna had had the common sense to break things off with Dick after seeing how his good name was being dragged through the mud-- and she hadn’t spoken to you since the night of the Wayne Enterprises Gala. You knew that one day the time would come to hash out all that needed to be said between the two of you, but today wasn’t that day.

Roy flopped on the couch, “Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” He covered his eyes with the hat he had been wearing and wrapped his arms around himself to doze off.

Jason’s hand touched your shoulder and you turned to look at him. “Do you want me to help, or--”

“Stay here.” You said, looking at the bedroom where you knew Dick was waiting. “I have some things I need to say.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here.” You left his side to pick up the boxes you had brought with you and brought them into the bedroom with you.

“Please look at me.” Dick spoke from the edge of the bed. You stared at him.

“What.” You said harshly.

“Can we--” he wiped tears off of his cheeks, his eyes red rimmed from what you were sure were hours of pity party tears-- “can we please, please, just try to talk this out.”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s talk.” You turned to the dresser and opened your drawers up. “You fucked my best friend. I asked you if there was anything going on with the two of you. You lied. You promised me that there was nothing and there would be nothing. I gave you four years of my life and you threw it away. I was going to marry you. I was going to have your children. You broke my trust and you broke my heart.” You spat at him as you threw the contents into an open box. Whirling around to face him, you started again. “I never asked you for anything other than your honesty, Dick Grayson. I resigned myself to a life knowing that I would always come second to the mask, a life where I would be nothing other than a choice. But I knew that at least if we were honest with each other, if we could always be each others number one confidant and best friend, we would be unstoppable.”

You paused to wipe the tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “You ended us. This isn’t my fault. If you want someone to blame, someone to question, someone to ask for forgiveness--” you pointed directly at him “--look in the mirror.”

He was staring at you, cheeks red and eyes blazen with something-- anger, disappointment, regret, you couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” His voice broke, and a part of your resolve broke too. You went and sat on the edge of the bed by him.

“This is where we end.” You said softly. He choked back a sob.

“I-- I know I can’t take it back, and I know you deserve better-- just let me sh-show you--”

“No.” You took his hand from his face and took it in both of yours. “I loved you with everything I had, and you threw it away. A part of me will always love you, but I can’t do this anymore.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I hope you can forgive yourself.”

After grabbing your few items from your nightstand and keepsakes from the safe under the bed, you left the room.

“Y/N,” Dick called out after you. You stopped in the doorway, box on your hip, and thought.

“Y/N?” Jason called from the living room.

And that was your answer.

You went in to find he had collected your items from the rest of the apartment and packed them up for you already. “I didn’t want you to have to-- if there is anything missing I figured I can come back and get it for you, or I can make Dick bring it, but for now--”

“Thank you, Jay.” You whispered, overcome with emotion.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t cry. Shhhh…” He wrapped you in a hug, while Roy slept obliviously on the couch. “It’s okay.”

“I’m not crying because I’m sad, it’s just…” you cried harder into his chest while you tried to breathe “it’s just so much, you know?”

And he did. You had made a life here, prepared for a life here, and with Dick, for the past four years, and now you were leaving it all behind. It was overwhelming, and you needed someone to hold your hand through it all. While for a while you had thought that Zatanna would always be the one to be your rock, you knew now that it was the two men here with you that would always be there to catch you when you fall.

“Y/N, no matter what, you always have me. I promise.”

“Thank you, Jay. For everything.” You said into his chest and he buried his face in your hair. “Can we go?” You said after a moment, and he laughed.

“Yeah, of course.” He shook Roy awake. “Can you help Y/N carry these boxes out to the car? I have something to take care of before we go.”

“Of course.” Roy picked up the heavier of the three and you left one for Jason to take with him. You shot him a questioning look before you shut the door, and he turned to the bedroom and walked in.

“Here to gloat?” Dick glared through bloodshot eyes. “You always wanted her, admit it.”

“I never said I didn’t. But Y/N is not some prize to be won.” Jason leaned against the doorframe. “You threw it all away-- and for what? For a good lay? Jeez, man, I don’t even know that I want to call you a brother anymore. Not after what you did to her.”

“It was a mistake--”

“No, it wasn’t. A mistake is forgetting your keys in your car, or accidentally texting the wrong person. What you did was a conscious decision, one that took effort, and you did it multiple times. Then you tried to throw it all back in her face at the Gala, and for what? To prove a point? Point taken-- she deserves so much more than you and all you will ever be.”

Jason walked up to Dick and pressed a finger into his chest. “And just so we are clear-- if Y/N ends up with me, it’s not because I poached her, or because I took advantage of her. It’s because she knows I’m the better man. It’s because she wants me. She is moving in with Roy and I and we never want to see or hear from you unless it is necessary. Got it?”

“Fine.” Dick stared directly at him. “You win. It’s not like Y/N wants me anyways. I don’t blame her. But if you think for a second she is going to stoop to the likes of a lowlife vigilante like you, you have another thing coming.” He chuckled harshly. “See you, bro. Now leave my place before I make you.”

Jason turned on his heel and picked up the box from the floor in the living room and met you in the car.

“I don’t want to know.” You said from the backseat, head in your hands. “Can we just go home?”

“Of course.” He turned around in his seat and gave your hand a squeeze. “Let’s go home.”

~~~~~

It was Thanksgiving when Jason pulled up to the Wayne Manor on his motorbike, you clinging to him like a spidermonkey. “I still don’t get why we couldn’t just take a car.” You grumbled as you got off, your leather jacket wrapped tightly around you as you looked around the place you had come to call home at one time. Now it seemed dark and cold, and you wondered if it had always been this way or if you had just been blinded by love to the point you didn’t notice before.

“You have to admit, babe,” Jason unclipped your helmet and smoothed down your hair, kissing the top of your head endearingly as he did, “the bike makes everything seem more rock and roll.”

“Got me there,” You joked, and linked your arm with his as you walked up the front steps. Alfred greeted you at the door, and nodded.

“Miss Y/N, Master Jason, right this way.”

“I’ve missed you Al,” You stopped him for a hug, which he of course returned. “We have to sit down and have tea sometime soon.”

“Of course.” He smiled. “We’ve missed you around the Manor...well, at least most of--”

“Y/N.” You heard Dick say before you saw him. It surprised you that you didn’t hurt seeing him as much as you had anticipated-- it was down to a dull ache as opposed to a burning fire. “Fancy seeing you here. I see you’ve shacked up with my brother.”

“Go to hell.” Jason said from behind you protectively.

“After you,” Dick bowed at him condescendingly.

“Both of you, back off.” You shouted. “Seriously. I just want to enjoy one fucking holiday without someone trying to kill someone or having to fight at the dinner table. Or both.” You glared between the two of them. “I’m sure Bruce would appreciate that as well, so if we can all just ignore each other for a few hours it will be fine.”

“Fine.” Dick snapped at you, and disappeared.

“The melodramatics in this family never cease to amaze me.” You sighed sarcastically.

“If you want to go, we can just get takeout and watch a movie at home. I swear. I won’t be upset.” Jason whispered in your ear.

“Let’s give it an hour before we bail.” You whispered back, and laced your fingers through his.

As you walked through the halls of Wayne Manor, you felt nostalgic. “Before we go see everyone, actually--” you stopped, and turned to the staircase-- “I want to go see your room.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because, I just realized that in all the times I’ve been here, I’ve never seen the inside of your room.”

“I literally haven’t been in there in months.” Jason deadpanned.

“Humor me.” You laughed and started.

“Woman, you will be the death of me.” He followed.

“You love me.” You joked.

“Yeah, I do.” He said, and you were hit with the sense that he really meant it. Like truly, deeply, meant it. While it should have felt weird… it didn’t. You began to realize that maybe, just maybe, you and Jason were becoming something real. You used to think that you’d had that with Dick, but it had all been smoke and mirrors. Living with Roy and Jason showed you what things should have been like if he was really your number one-- never on the outside of plans, never keeping secrets, as open as a book could be. And sure, yeah, you were practically attached at the hip with Jason, but that was because you were becoming each others best friends-- right?

If you were just ‘best friends’, then why did his hand fit so perfectly in yours, and his hand set perfectly on the small of your back when you were walking anywhere? Or why did you fit together like a puzzle when you fell asleep on the couch or in his bed together watching a movie?

You shook the thoughts aside and grabbed his hand in yours as you started up the rest of the stairs. Today was not the day to confront those feelings, you decided.

He guided you to his door, right across the hall from Dicks, and pushed it open.

It was cleaner than you expected. You didn’t know why you expected it to look like a tornado had run through it, but it was actually very well kempt. The walls were navy and his bed was grey with white pillows. He had a black desk and black bookshelf with a white chair, and a grey sofa to the side. You walked around and touched everything, picking up the books on his shelf and the picture of the Titans team on his bedside table.

“This is me.” He shrugged, taking a seat on the sofa. “It’s not much-- I don’t stay here super often anymore.”

“It’s a lot different than your room at the apartment.” You joked.

“Yeah, well, living with Roy will do that to you.” He laughed. You went and sat by him, then noticed the picture sitting to the side of the couch on a table.

“Who is this?”

“That’s my mom.” He said, and took the frame from your hands. “I don’t have a lot of pictures of her-- this is one of the only ones, really.” He traced the outline of her face and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if things had ended up differently. If she was still around.”

“I’m sorry, Jay.” You covered his hand with yours, and he took it, setting the picture down.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He ran his other hand through his hair. “Look-- I know you’ve been through a lot lately, and I know you’re still healing, but I need to know-- is this real?” He looked you in the eyes, and the feeling from earlier returned. “I have never felt like this before. And you have no idea how shitty it makes me feel, knowing that you were just with my brother, and that he hurt you, and that we are friends and I really am not trying to take advantage of you in any way, it’s just--”

“I feel it too.” You placed a hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes, searching for your words there. “I-- I have just been worried that I’m going to mess things up with you. Because I care about you so, so much Jay; not just as a friend, but as a partner, and as something more, and that scares me. I don’t know if I know what love really is anymore, and I just don’t want to screw everything up again.”

“Y/N,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, and kissed you firmly. It was unexpected, and you opened your eyes before relaxing and closing them, deepening the kiss. Kissing Jason was like something you’d never experienced-- it wasn’t fireworks, but it was like finally feeling whole. He brought a hand around to your lower back and brought you closer to him, pressing your upper halves together. You fit like a puzzle, you and Jay, and you felt a warmth building inside of you right as you realized--

You pulled away abruptly. “I think I’m in love with you.” You told him.

“I know I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He grinned, and pushed a stray piece of hair out of your face. “I’ve been completely whipped ever since you kicked Dick’s ass in training at the Titans tower when you came for a visit.”

“That was, like, three years ago.” You said.

“Yeah, it was.” He laughed.

“Promise me.” You said suddenly.

“What? Anything.” He took your hand and pressed it to his heart. “I’ll give you the world, baby, just tell me what you need.”

“Promise me you won’t break my heart.” You whispered, and it felt stupid once it came out of your mouth and your cheeks went red. “Just-- please”

“I, Jason Todd, do solemnly swear that I will never break your heart, even should my life depend on it.” He said.

“Thank you.” You said, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Lets go eat.” He said and pulled you to stand with him. “I’m starving.”

“How long do you think it will take for your family to notice we are together?”

“I give them until Christmas.” He winked at you as you went down the stairs together.

“The end of dinner.” You argued.

“You’re on.” He grinned and the two of you headed to what you were sure would be the most eventful Thanksgiving yet.

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baegarrick · 4 years

Note

idk if you've read/seen the book/movie but just... love, simon zukka au ?? sokka as simon and zuko as bram because blue spirit ( though if we r going for it personality-wise maybe switch their roles? idk ! ) — also in this one the friends are exponentially better

ok im so sorry I haven’t actually seen love, simon or read the book but.... I HAVE ACCESS TO WIKIPEDIA SO LETS GO

ok so I was considering Zuko as Simon bc of the musical thing/the loving parent (Iroh), the girl he sees Sokka (Bram) kiss is Suki.... but also bc I just love writing Zuko (maybe I’ll parse that out at the end)

BUT lets go with Sokka as Simon bc I also love writing the Gaang

Sokka is Simon

Katara is both Nora and Abby

Jet is Martin

Aang is Nick (but slightly also Abby)

Zuko is blue/Bram

Suki is Leah (but slightly also Nick)

Toph is Ethan (sorta)

Haru is Lyle

Ok so, obv this follows the plot of the movie/book. Sokka is a gay + closeted junior, not that his dad isn’t loving, but he’s in the military, and occasionally makes homophobic jokes, and Sokka feels like he has to be tough for him, esp. since his mom died. But he really likes making people laugh and so he joins the school musical, which is a comedy this year.

His best friend is Suki, who he’s known since he was a kid, but he’s kinda been withdrawing from her since he got to high school. He loves her, he really does, but everyone always thinks they’re dating, and it kinda makes him uncomfortable. He tried to like her, when they were younger, but he just... isn’t into girls. His friend group is Suki, Katara (his sister, and it was the two of them against the world since their mom died, but he’s pulled away from her too), Aang (a transfer freshman from out of state), and Toph (who spent up till 8th grade at a private school).

Also in the musical is Zuko, a hot senior who’s like.... super lofty. He gets really into theater, but he rarely interacts with people outside his friend group, like he’s better than them or something. (Mai and Ty Lee are also there, they’re Zuko’s friends.) Not in the musical, but in one of the other clubs Sokka is in, is Jet. He got kicked off the football team for being too rough with the other team last year, so he mostly just hangs out behind the bleachers smoking.

Sokka’s on the school’s tumblr one day (shut up, Katara, I don’t have a tumblr!!) when he sees someone posted an anonymous confession saying they’re gay but they really don’t have anyone they can talk to because of their family situation. Sokka gets their email (BlueSpirit) and start emailing (BoomerangDude) them for a couple of months. He learns that Blue’s family has really high expectations of him, and since he’s only a year away from college he can’t mess them up because if he does he’ll be cut off, and he can’t afford college if that happens. He’s got a sadistic little sister (who isn’t actually terrible, she’s just got her own shit going on, and if shoving Zuko in the warpath of their father takes the spotlight off of her, all the better) who would absolutely out him if she knew, a girl he’s pretty sure wants to date him (Mai), and an after-school job (the tea shop) thats cutting into his extra-curricular activities.

This is.... really similar to Sokka, actually, and he likes making Blue laugh (they switch to chatting online sometimes, like discord or some chat app), and Blue has a lot of insights on things Sokka likes (some of the same music,

Meanwhile, Sokka ends up going to this tea shop he heard about from Blue (it had been a slip, Zuko had NOT meant to say too many personal details, but he’d mentioned getting some kind of boba drink) and studying there with his friends. While he’s there, he’s surprised to see Zuko, who he’s never spoken to outside of the musical they’re working on!! (At some point, Zuko checks his phone and laughs, and Sokka’s like, oh no, I’m crushing on.... TWO DUDES???? BAD SOKKA). He starts to wonder if maybe.... Zuko is Blue?? it generally sorta fits, he knows Zuko is also a senior, and the tea shop Blue mentioned.... (to be fair, though, they see like three other kids from school there, so it’s not really a niche place)

Before Sokka can test out this theory, though, there’s a Halloween party which Sokka goes to with his friends. (They go as the Power Rangers.) He sees Zuko there (he’s in some some Kabuki costume), but with him is.... Mai from the play. They’re making out, and Sokka feels his stomach drop-- he’s not gay and Sokka’s crushing on a straight guy. He gets drunk. He throws up in the bushes outside, and Katara finds him, chews him out, and then sneaks him back home.

He emails Blue again, drunk, and says some stupid stuff like he wishes things were easier, and that he thought he knew who Blue was, but he didn’t. (Blue doesn’t reply.)

He’s checking his email on a school computer in the library when the bell rings, and he doesn’t log out properly, and Jet, who is skipping class, finds Sokka’s emails. He confronts Sokka about them, and says he won’t reveal Sokka’s secret... if Sokka helps Jet get with Sokka’s hot sister. Sokka hates the idea, but also, the idea of being outed is really terrifying. So he says yes, and tries to talk up Jet to Katara, who’s a little surprised bc while she thinks Jet is hot, Sokka was super against Jet whenever she mentioned it. Katara is involved in school politics, and convinces Jet to pretend to be interested to spend time with her. (he ends up running against her...)

Around Thanksgiving, with all their extended family there, ribbing him about getting a girlfriend (asking about Suki), Sokka leaves and goes to sit on the roof. Katara finds him there, and demands he spill whats up and why he’s acting so weird, especially about Suki. (she looks freaked out for a moment, and is like.... oh my god, sokka, is suki pregnant?????? sokka blanches at that) He admits he’s gay, and she hugs him, and they stay out there until their dad sticks his head out the window and calls them inside.

Feeling guilty about Jet, Sokka admits to Blue their emails might have been compromised. Blue starts to back away, taking longer and longer to answer emails.

At a football game, Sokka runs into Haru, who starts asking him stuff, and Sokka wonders if he’s Blue, but it turns out Haru is interested in Katara. Upset, again, that he doesn’t know who Blue is, he encourages Jet to “go big or go home”-- and so Jet asks Katara out by bribing the kid who does the scoreboard to switch out his campaign ad for asking Katara out. Katara is shocked, as she thought Jet was really interested in her campaign. She slaps him.

Mad that Katara wasn’t interested after all, and from the slap, Jet outs Sokka anyway, posting the emails on the school’s gossip site. Katara, who was mad at Sokka, instantly forgives him and is on a WARPATH against Jet, but Sokka just wants it left alone. Suki shows up a few hours later, and finds him on the roof. She admits that she had a crush on him, which was why she never said anything when people asked if they were a couple, but she knew Sokka wasn’t interested in her, so she never pushed it. She’s sorry she made it difficult for him to come out to her.

Blue is upset their emails have leaked, and deletes his account.

He comes out to his dad later, in the car, on the way to school on the last couple of days before winter break. His dad takes it well, and apologizes for all of the jokes he used to make-- it doesn’t make it right, but it was the kind of things he and the other soldiers used to say to each other. He ends up taking them to this tea shop he heard about (it’s Zuko’s/Iroh’s shop), and while there, he comes out to the owner of the shop, Iroh, as sort of..... practice. It’s liberating and also terrifying. Iroh is super cool about it, and tells them about his own son, who passed away a few years ago in an accident, was gay. It’s way later than Sokka thought, and when he looks up from the conversation with Iroh, Zuko’s standing in the doorway. not wanting to deal with people from school, Sokka leaves the tea shop without waiting for his dad to follow him.

The next couple of days at school are rough. His friends stick by his side, but Jet’s friends are obnoxious and loud, and Katara punches one of them. She goes to the school, but they’re eternally unhelpful bc.... what can tey do... its not a school website..... Later, Toph tells Sokka she’s a lesbian, and it’s not that she’s hiding it, but... it’s already tough enough when people treat her like she’s glass because she’s blind. They all go home for winter break, and when they come back, Sokka is refreshed and determined not to be put down by a couple of assholes.

He’s wildly surprised when Blue posts on the school’s tumblr that he wants to meet Sokka at the school’s carnival. This draws a crowd, which makes Sokka worried he’s gonna be pranked, but when he sits down on the Ferris wheel, he’s surprised that Zuko from the tea shop/musical sits down next to him.

Zuko says he’s sorry for ignoring Sokka’s emails, and he’s sorry that Sokka got outed to the school, and it wasn’t his fault that Sokka was blackmailed, and he should have reacted better to it. Sokka apologizes too, because Zuko shouldn’t have to be outed either, which... is why they’re here? Zuko blushes, and says he came out to his uncle, who’s letting him stay with him, since he’s tired of going home to his shitty dad, and that he might go live with his mom while he’s in college. He admits the Mai thing at the party was a drunken misunderstanding, and that he likes Sokka. He thinks he’s funny, and they like the same things (theater, music, strange taste in food...), and he’s hoping after this... Sokka might like him too? (they kiss on the Ferris wheel, and Katara takes like, 30 pictures.)

....

alternatively////

Zuko as Simon au-- bc I just wanted to write it out. he lives with his uncle, who’s the loving parent here, not Ozai!! (or his Mom/stepdad but I kinda forgot they existed for like 5 minutes)

Zuko is Simon

Katara is Abby (she’s his lab partner, and they have the same temperment)

Azula is Nora, but she doesn’t really play a big role (she’s an asshole, but also she’s 14 and is Going Through Things. she’s also in the closet and in love with Mai, but she doesn’t know it yet. it takes her a couple of years to figure that out.)

Mai is Leah

Aang is Martin (but less of an asshole. just the embarrassing + frustrated bits.)

Sokka is blue/Bram

Suki is the girl at the party Sokka kisses

Ty Lee is Ethan

---

I HOPE THIS WAS OK, like I said I haven’t actually seen the thing, but now I actually know what the plot is about!! <3333

#zukka #zukka au #love simon au

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antique-teacups · 4 years

Text

sunshine in L.A.

A/N: kind of an original character piece but also not entirely. i just was having a great time writing! hope you folks enjoy!

word count: 3k

There was something about her twenties that never felt quite right, worn like a sweater a size to large. She watched as her friends floated from relationships and friendships seamlessly, while she felt caught. In what exactly, she wasn’t sure. Part of her hoped with time that feeling would fade, become background static instead of pumping along with her heartbeat. Going with the current, she did exactly what was expected of her. Attended college, albeit a community college, but college none the less. Part time work covered what financial aid wouldn’t, even scraping enough together to buy a beater car.

Time drifted on and the feeling stayed, haunting and hollow. Avoiding the problem didn’t lessen its size but it never grew. In the back of her mind constantly. Social media was the worst part, watching her friends flourish and flower, while it took everything in her to remain sane and present. Two years flew by in the blink of an eye and she were left with a tiny degree she was not sure she really wanted. When the opportunity did present itself, she knew it was one she could not possibly pass up.

She knew that even in L.A these demons could surface but maybe the constant sun could choke them out. Packing her meager belongings into the back of her car, she pointed it in the direction of L.A. Whether she actually ended up in the sunshine state wasn’t the point, but rather, it was to get out. Stop the cycle before it became the only focal point of her life. It took longer than it should’ve, she passed the days slowly. Each spent behind the wheel simply heading west.

L.A. was a zoo. She worked your way through the city with fascination and hopefulness. She was certain of one thing and uncertain of many. She hoped to write but was willing to do just about anything to make money. Well, just about anything, she still harbored some self-respect.

L.A. had of a way of worming its way into your heart, no matter how shitty people made it seem. Each self-respecting L.A citizen hated the city as much as they loved it. She found a decent studio apartment, managed to get a job as a barista quickly, and spent the first month slinging caffeine in the daytime and writing into the wee hours of the morning. Cash was always tight, considering she did live in one of the most expensive cities, but there was semblance of happiness. It was clawing it’s way in on the edges of her life.

The customers were not particularly strange, at least not always. There were a couple of memorable moments, but most days passed by in monotony. She knew customers by their orders, not names. These small moments between the register and picking up their coffee offered she a small window into their world. These hints they dropped left her wondering about their lives outside their order and these four walls. Who were these people who flocked to the shop like cattle to slaughter?

She certainly played favorites, every barista did, with both customers and coworkers. There were those who made the days a little brighter. The first was her coworker James. Somewhere in his twenties like her but an old soul. He came to work in sweaters, cooper rimmed circular glasses, and disheveled hair on the daily. He was welcoming and warm and chased away some of the darkness.

The two of them became instant friends. He would wait after work to hang out, get drinks on the weekend, and spend Sunday brunch complaining about his hangover. At first, she was confronted with the concern that maybe he was worming into her life in hopes of it ending in a relationship, but as soon as she met his boyfriend Scott, that fear was put to rest. In a way, she chose the two of them as family. She spent countless hours with them, at ease with the way things were.

In James, she confided most of her fears and a lot of her guilt. The backstory of her life surprising him but explaining the front she put up. Tragedy often bores the strongest soldiers. In the year she had been in L.A, James helped her pick up the pieces and put herself together, an unrepayable favor. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and she were destined to spend it with James and Scott.

“James, I’m running to the grocery store after work and if you play your cards right there might just be a bottle of Prosecco with your name on it.” she joked over the espresso machine, a sly smile on her lips. James and her always bantered at work, often to the amusement of the customers and other coworkers.

James matches her smile, “Oh honey, you act like I would actually need to play my cards to get it, I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.” He chuckles and turns back to the drawer. The day was getting late, closing time just mere hours away. She was practically counting down the hours till she could curl up on his couch and binge “New Girl”, the new obsession for the two of them.

“I like to pretend it’s the other way around, but I would admit you are right, James. But besides that, anything else?” she asked, hardly looking at him. There was unspoken communication between you two most days, a glance could tell a story. “I was thinking pizza this fine Wednesday night. But I’m certainly open to suggestions.”

“And break the Wednesday night pizza tradition, how absurd!” James feigns hurt, a hand over his heart and concerned expression painting his face. “The table is already set, we can’t go making changes now, silly girl.”

“Then pizza and prosecco it is. Perfect.” She giggled and sent a curt nod in his direction. The entire conversation was an open invitation for him to change the plans, but he never did. Wednesday night was always reserved for the two of them. They devoured pizza and whatever show they were working on. It was sacred to them both.

The rest of the day passed quickly, the sun just barely setting when she and James locked the shop doors. A brief hug and a quick exchange of words and the two of them were off in opposite directions. A pit stop at the grocery store and then to James’ place. He would order the pizza in, as per tradition. Tasked with grabbing the drinks and whatever bits she needed, she would be to his place shortly.

Her car sat tucked in the back lot, warm from sitting in the sun. Cranking the window open once she had climbed inside, turning on the radio, she set off to the grocery store. It was smaller than most that scattered around L.A, which is why it was her favorite. She did not have to fight the yoga obsessed mothers to get through the aisles or hope the hipsters didn’t pick through the all the good stuff before she got a chance to be there. The old man, who she assumed owned it, knew her by name. Often, he would gift products just a day out of date to her. He did save your ass more than once.

“Charles, what’s the good word for today?” She asked, swinging the door open and nabbing a basket.

Smiling, he gushed, “I beat the finalist in Jeopardy today, but I’m here and he’s there,” shrugging he went on, “I put some of those cookies you like in the back, they went out of date yesterday, Dandelion.” Charles had been using the nickname since she had started coming here. She was totally convinced he had to be her guardian angel. When she asked him where it came from, his response surprised her. “Like the weed, you always come back. You are full of fire and strong. I can see it.” She felt partial to this grocery store. She ended up here for a reason.

“Great, I was craving something sweet all day. Remind me, I have got something for you in my bag before I go. Don’t worry, nothing poisonous.” Jokingly she added.

Charles had a love for Jim Harrison. Often when she was browsing at old bookstores or garage sale’s she would stumble across one for him. He probably owned nearly every single book published by Harrison, but always acted thankful and surprised when she presented him with another. She wanted to make sure he knew how much she appreciated him in a way of more than just saying thank you.

She scanned the aisles looking for the familiar packaging of her favorites. She hardly noticed the boy till she had practically run into his back.

“Another one in Charles good graces, a rare species.” He teased.

Chuckling, “That must mean there are people on Charles bad side, which I highly doubt.” He was home strung, as far as she could tell. Clean cut and not looking for a lot of attention, judging by his all black attire. “I’m assuming you’re one of the lucky ones, too.” She implored.

“Thankfully, I have managed to make my way into one of his chosen few. Even without it, I would still come here. This is the only grocery store where I don’t have to cross my fingers and hope all the good stuff isn’t picked over. Charles seems to have a force field to keep this place hidden. Certainly, the best kept secret of L.A.,” he pauses, searching your face, “you work at the coffee shop on Sunset, Eight-Fold Coffee, right?”

“Guiltily is charged, Mr. iced latte with almond milk,” tapping your temple, “steel trap. I only know people’s drinks, not their names, sorry. I was wondering if you looked familiar or if it was just the lighting.”

Extending a hand, cheekily responding, “David. The name’s David Dobrik, or iced latte if you please.” His smile was easy and charming, you couldn’t help but stare. His entire posture oozed ease, you couldn’t quite decide if he was trying to flirt or simply be friendly. Of course, that wonderful friend called self-doubt started to crawl its way into your chest, so it was time to go.

Flashing him what you hoped was a friendly parting smile, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. It was nice finally meeting in more than just an ‘iced latte with almond milk’ kind of way. I’ll see you around. I have promised the roommate a night in and if I don’t come through, the world might stop turning.” Turning on her heel, tossing David a small wave, she headed for the register. All the things she needed forgotten.

She set the single bottle on the counter and wait for Charles to ring it up. Silence elapses, you lost entirely in your own thoughts.

“Dandelion?”

“Huh, what?” she missed what he asked, cheeks flushing at him catching her in dreamland.

“Lots on your mind today?” Charles inquired, a knowing look on his face.

Smiling and rolling her eyes, “I respect the fishing for a morsel of mind but maybe when inquiring minds aren’t near.” she winks. Digging in your bag, she pulls the book for him, Returning to Earth, out. “I found it at a garage sale this weekend and thought you could add to your collection. But this one, is to expand your horizons.” She pulls The Pleasures of the Damned by Charles Bukowski out. “I’ll need it back but keep it as long as you need, I know where to find you. See you around Charles.” She pays and get ready to go, sneaking one last glance in David’s direction. Grabbing onto her bag with the prosecco and cookies tucked in, she heads for the doors. One last look to the aisles and she can see David still tucked amongst them, scouring for something in the sea. A shake of her head and she is out the doors.

Tossing the bag in the passenger seat, she meanders down the streets towards James. A stampede of thoughts about David comes and goes. It was just mutual acknowledgement that the two of them did in fact kind of know each other. Yet, she found herself wondering if she should tell James about him, see if he had any insight on the guy. The thought felt foolish considering it was just a run in at the grocery store, nothing more.

Charles knew more about her then he let on. He knew her heart was kind but had been through a lot, he knew you were loyal and strong, but he knew also knew when her heart would tell you who to let in. David did not need much from that grocery store, mostly some alone time. His inquiring mind also wanted some more information on the barista who stole his breath away. As he left that day, Charles told him something he would carry with him for a while. “People like her, they guard their hearts, but hers is golden. It won’t always be shut.”

Opening the door to James and Scott’s apartment, she could smell the pizza. Her mouth was already watering. James rounded the corner into view between the small kitchen and living.

“I was beginning to wonder if you bailed.” He poked.

“On you, never.” Rolling her eyes.

“I am almost flattered.” He made for the bag in her hand, noticing the cookies right away. “Charles treats you like your one of his own grand kids. One of the people placed on that golden list.”

“About Charles coveted list, I ran into a guy from the coffee shop. David? Iced latte with almond milk, dresses like an unemployed ninja. Do you know anything about him?” She asked trying to keep the hopeful tone from her voice.

James searches her face before continuing. “A sudden interest in a customer, more like prominent interest. I’ve noticed the favorites you play with him.” He flashes you a joking grin. “I don’t know much about him honestly. I’ve heard whisperings from the other baristas that he has some youtube channel, not much else. He seems nice.” Bumping his shoulder with hers, “It wouldn’t hurt if you tried to be friends with him. It’s not a crime to branch out. I would not be insulted if you did. I worry that maybe you don’t because I take up a lot of your time.”

“Certainly not, you take up a perfect amount of my time. I just, remember how hard it is for me to be friends with people, I guess. I am a lifelong hermit. Plus, if he’s doing that whole ‘social media career’, he might not be the kind of friend I want.” Socializing was never her strong suit and if David’s preferred choice was blasting his life across the platforms, maybe she would take a pass.

The two of you vegged out on the couch way past what was a reasonable time, both scheduled to open tomorrow. He was on her mind all night, the little she knew about him had her mind doing circles. He seemed innocent enough, a good guy if Charles liked him.

The sun shown through the windows all morning, bringing a warming light to the coffee shop. All day you hoped he would pop in, yet, it went unanswered. Clocking out, she nabbed her notebook and a mug of coffee, making her way to the bank of windows along the window. She tried to keep her mind from wandering, yet it seemed impossible. Perhaps she scared him off.

“I figured you were a writer. Nobody suggests poetry books, Bukowski especially, unless they are a writer. Or terribly sad, but judging by the notebook, I’d say the first.” David said, standing next to you bathed in the afternoon sun. He looked as though he just woke up but in a delicious way. His hair was messy and his eyes warm. She could not help but bath in the light emanating from him.

A small smile spread on her lips, “You’re a fan?”

“I saw it on Charles counter on my out yesterday. A simple Google Search did the trick. Guy seems kind of dark for you.” A blush plays on David’s cheeks. “I was hoping to run into you today. Listen, me and my friends are going to this party tonight, would you be interested?”

“Uh,” glancing behind the counter you see James shaking his yes vigorous, “sure, why not?” It seemed in David’s presence, the hole in her chest seemed to lessen some.

#david x reader #david dobrik #davids vlogs #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik x reader #vlog squad #vlog sqaud #i mostly write vlog squad

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faefictions · 4 years

Text

Lonely People | Ch 5

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word Count: 1,904

Y/n spent the entire weekend dreading Monday morning. Class already wasn’t an event to look forward to, but after her conversation with Jace, she didn’t want to have to look Harrison in the eye. Of course, if things went down with him like they had with Jace, it wouldn’t have been that bad. She had only known him for a couple weeks, and they weren’t that close anyway. But they were going to be forced together for this project so she had to find some way to avoid the situation altogether. And that was how she came up with the worst plan she had ever made. She decided to just make him not like her.

In hindsight, she should have known that that wasn’t going to work how she wanted it. You can’t force someone to not have feelings, just like you can’t force those feelings into existence. But that wouldn’t have stopped her from trying anyway. Her goal was to make him hate her just enough that he wouldn’t have a crush on her, but not so much that he couldn’t stand working with her. Her grade still mattered to her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

When she got into the building on Monday morning, she took a deep breath and braced herself. She knew it wasn’t like he was about to make a move on her, but she had to be proactive. When she walked into the class, just one minute before the bell, she glanced up to see Harrison already at the desk, two coffees sitting in front of him.

He smiled up at her and offered her one of the coffees when she approached him. She kindly took it from the desk and took a sip.

“There a reason for this?” she asked, gesturing towards the cup.

“Didn’t want you to be late again,” he chuckled, trying to lighten her seemingly dim mood.

“Oh, uh, thanks, I guess,” she replied trying her best to not show her appreciation.

“Wait, what if I had stopped for coffee anyway?”

“Well I guess I didn’t think that far ahead,” he replied, the small smile almost disappearing from his face. She decided to take that as a win for now.

Mr. Sullivan dismissed both the classes early so they could either prepare for their shoots, head into the studio, or take their shoots elsewhere.

Y/n and Harrison made their way back to her apartment to get the clothes they had left there from the previous class. The walk was filled with an awkward silence, one that neither of them had the guts to break. Jace had gotten into both of their heads, so any hope for a normal conversation was out the door.

When they reached the apartment, Harrison didn’t light up like he usually did when he saw Jace. He gave him a begrudged smile and followed y/n into her room to help her gather whatever she needed for their photoshoot. She noticed his awkward shift of character around Jace, but didn’t say anything. She knew exactly why he was acting that way. She wasn’t initially sure if Jace had confronted Harrison too, but she had her suspicions. She tried to not be upset about it, but it irked her beyond belief. Jace had no right to interfere with her love life, or lack thereof. That was her decision.

“You ok?” Harrison asked, snapping y/n out of her little trance. She realized that she had been standing in the middle of the room, blankly staring at the closet for a few seconds too long.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she muttered, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

She reached into her closet and pulled out two of the outfits that they had chosen the week before. She let Harrison decide which one they would focus on for the day. She was happy with his choice: a deep blue sweater and some white pants. He had also picked out a watch and simple gold chain to go with the outfit as well.

They had mutually agreed to spend as little time in the studio as possible. Everyone seemed to be centering their projects on artificial lighting and indoor set-ups. Y/n, of course, had to think outside of the box. So she decided to have only one photo in the studio, and the rest would use as much natural light as possible and be taken in an urban setting. Harrison loved the idea, and the examples she was showing him were amazing enough to seal the deal officially.

Y/n left Harrison in her bedroom to change while she grabbed some more of her personal equipment from the main room. There was a corner next to the television that she had convinced Sierra and Jace to let her store some of her excess stands and bags in. It wasn’t too much, she just didn’t want it cluttering her room.

By the time she was all packed up and ready to go, Harrison was coming out of her room to show her the outfit. She mentally noted all the minor adjustments she wanted to make before she started taking photos, and headed out the door.

She had to admit that the walk to their first location was excruciatingly awkward. The silence between them felt heavy, but neither of them wanted to comment on it. Being around Harrison was proving to be more difficult than she thought it would be.

As they reached their destination, the silence was only filled by her occasional instructions for him. She had to admit, he was good at what he did. She barely had to fix each pose that he would do. It was a relief to know that her professor truly had paired her with someone who knew what they were doing.

“So, do you have any plans for Autumn break?” Harrison eventually asked as y/n was checking the shots on her camera. He was getting sick of the silence. He couldn’t figure out why it was happening in the first place. Had he said something, done something?

“You mean Thanksgiving break?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Fall break was in October,” she tried to hide her giggle.

“You know what I meant.”

“Can’t pass up the opportunity to make fun of you,” she tried to keep a straight face. This was a little easier than she thought.

“Are you going to answer the question, or are you too busy poking fun?” he tried not to smile.

“I don’t know. Sierra and Jace usually make me trade off going home with them for holidays, but I’m not really enjoying that.”

“And why don’t you just go home?”

“This is home.”

Her demeanor completely changed with the answer, Harrison could tell he had struck a chord within her and asking anything further would be a bad idea.

“So, uhm, do you have any plans?”

“No, I don’t thinking flying back to England for a week is worth the money. And I’m pretty sure Sierra is making Tom come home with her for the holiday.”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a bit much, but they’re in puppy love, he’s really excited.”

That was great news for y/n. It was Sierra’s turn to take her back home, and if she was taking Tom with her instead, she had an excuse to get out of it.

The conversation ended when y/n stated that she had gotten the shots she was looking for. The walk back to her apartment was almost as awkward as the walk there. The silence was still thick between them, but it didn’t feel as dreadful as before.

___

That night, as y/n was beginning to chose and edit some of the photos from the day, she heard Sierra and Jace quietly arguing in the kitchen. It wasn’t a rare occasion to hear any of the 3 roommates arguing with another, especially in the last few months. Ever since the incident with Jace, their relationships had all been tested, but as far as y/n knew that was all over. So out of pure curiosity, she came out of her room and silently approached the kitchen, hoping to eavesdrop before they spotted her.

That hope went out the door when she heard Jace sigh and ask her to come around the corner. She never got the whole sneaky thing down.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking between her roommates to their frustrated expressions.

Neither of them wanted to tell her, which was made obvious when they both hit the other’s arm, trying to pass the responsibility over.

“Is this about Thanksgiving?” y/n asked, slightly amused at their childlike avoidance.

“How’d you know?” Jace asked.

Y/n ignored the question and instead turned to Sierra. “Heard you’re taking Tom home with you this year.”

Sierra seemed ashamed to have been caught, but y/n just laughed at her.

“No worries, I can stay home for break. Really give you some alone time,” she gave her an over-exaggerated wink, but neither of her roommates found it amusing.

“Don’t be an idiot, y/n, you can come to my place,” Jace said, furrowing his brow.

“As sweet as the offer is, I really must insist that I stay home,” she stated, a slight sarcastic lift in her tone. “I appreciate the thought of you guys letting me come home with you, but you both must know how much I hate it by now.”

“Since when do you hate it?” Sierra asked, the offense more present in her voice than she was hoping.

“Si, your parents ask way too many questions. They’re sweet and all, but I don’t think I can sit through another speed round of personal questions.”

“And what about Jace’s family?”

“I think we all know how adamant Jace’s mom is about me just marrying her son already. Holidays with either of you just mean a week of avoiding your parents, it’s exhausting.”

Jace chuckled at her, but Sierra wasn’t so amused. “You can’t just stay here on your own,” she fought, crossing her arms.

“Actually, Si, believe it or not, I’m a big girl. I think I can handle a week on my own,” she said in a mocking tone as she made her way around the counter to grab a glass from a cabinet.

“See, I told you,” Jace teased Sierra, making her turn red.

“But, y/n..”

“I know, I said I hated being here alone, but that was like a month after we moved in. I’m fine with it now, I promise,” she reassured her friend. She rested her hands on Sierra’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring look, which just caused her to roll her eyes with a smile.

“Fine, but I’m telling Tom to make Harrison come check on you.”

“Or you could not do that,” y/n replied, sudden annoyance present in her tone.

“Just so I know you’re not dead. We both know you’re terrible at replying to texts… and calls… and literally any other form of communication.”

“I promise I’ll reply to anything you send, just don’t make your boyfriend’s little friend babysit me.”

“I thought we liked Harrison.”

“And I thought I was old enough to not need a babysitter.”

“Ok, fine, but if you ghost me, I’m making Tom call him.”

“Ok, deal,” y/n rolled her eyes and turned so she could fill her glass with water and return to her room to edit her photos in peace.

Tags:

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#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland #harrison osterfeild imagine #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield angst #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield blurb

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jemej3m · 5 years

Note

Bro. I love your writing. Will there pls be a part 3 for the radio show ficlet 🙈♥️

yes because im trash here it is

p.1 / p.2 / p.3

The first time Andrew stopped by Neil’s recording studio, FM-OX Studios, it was a brief moment of panic. He had a coffee in each hand, and buzzed his studio with his elbow. The door made a beeping noise and slid open for him, and he was confronted by the dark inners of a radio station.

It occurred to him that despite his qualifications in media and communications, he’d never traversed into a real station. The reception desk was empty, the stairwell behind it scarcely lit. Andrew could still see the various photos, awards and promotional posters. It was odd connecting faces to voices: He hadn’t expected to recognise any of them, but one photo had him standing still.

Kevin and a middle aged man with full sleeve tattoos were standing side-by-side at some sort of award ceremony. Kevin held an award. They shared the same tight-lipped smile and shadowed gaze, Kevin’s dark hair a youthful version of the man’s grey streaks.

Andrew would ask Kevin about it, if he remotely cared about anything to do with Kevin’s strange realm of fame and glamour. The intrigue passed like a cold chill and Andrew kept moving up the stairs with no more than a disinterested huff.

He sidled past various closed offices and let himself into the main recording studio.

It only occurred to him as he looked through the com-glass that he’d never realised how insane this was. Yes, Neil was a public figure, and if anything happened to Andrew, records of their calls would be on the working phones and presumably recorded in this public space.

Still, Andrew had no idea what the man looked like. There was almost nothing on FM-OX’s online page on him, and there were certainly no photos of him. Andrew wasn’t going to know if he acted differently whilst on and off air. Andrew had almost no information on him, so what the fuck did he think he was doing, waltzing in like this?

And then Andrew had looked through the glass.

There he sat. Sitting under only the light of a lampshade, face illuminated by a programming screen as his hands moved across a soundboard. A phone sat to his left, and his hand tapped nervously by it, as if waiting for bad news.

Movement through the glass had Neil looking to where Andrew was stood, frozen. A look of slight shock flit across the man’s face and he stood to let Andrew into the recording studio, taking the coffee from Andrew’s free hand.

He was barely taller than Andrew was.

“Hi,” He said, a little mesmerised that Andrew was actually there.

Andrew only had to take one look at his decadent red curls, the dazzling blue eyes and distorted scars across his cheeks and hands before knowing he was absolutely fucked.

Shit.

Neil cocked his head to the side as he considered Andrew, who dozed lightly in an armchair he’d dragged into the studio with his feet up on the recording desk.

It wasn’t the first time Andrew had come in: He’d been here upwards of a dozen times by now. Neil was no less perplexed by the man, who spent most of his nights tending one of Columbia’s downtown bars.

Neil had actually looked into the man’s qualifications. He’d come through at the top of his class and denied various offers for positions in news presenting and show hosting on various stations across the east coast, as far north and prestigious as New York. Andrew even turned down down a Los Angeles placement that would have put him on a path akin to Kevin Day’s.

Neil was at a loss about the man. He never talked about presenting. He never considered a different life other than the one he’d garnered and bartered for.

Really, Neil couldn’t quite pin down what they spent their time talking about. All Neil knew was that it was easy, just as entertaining as it had been over the phone. Andrew listened in on the phone calls with him and made rude remarks under his breath, of which Neil muted but wished he could keep on air.

With November brought the holiday season, which always left Neil feeling a little hollow. Dan and Matt had invited him to spend Thanksgiving at theirs, but it felt like a little more than an intrusion: Neil still couldn’t see himself as their awkward, flighty coworker that they put up with because they didn’t have much of a choice. Radio didn’t stop for the holidays, but they’d insisted that he should put a pre-record on for the night and stay over.

It lead him to some intriguing topics of conversation. Who was going to see their families for the holidays? Who’s family drama was the most insidious? What awful gifts have you received? What are you thankful for?

Neil talked about these on air, but the most coveted discussions were those with Andrew. Andrew, who looked at Neil from under his lashes as he let his fingers brush over the soundboard. Andrew, who texted Neil songs he’d found that fit the theme or style of Neil’s show. Andrew, who was both brutally honest and impossible to read.

“What about you?” Neil asked one evening, letting his microphone go on mute as Billy Joel began playing. Andrew didn’t look at him or even acknowledge he’d spoken aside from the arch of a singular eyebrow. “What are your holiday plans?”

“My mother died when I was sixteen, I never knew my father, I havdn’t spoken to my brother since he moved to Chicago for med-school and my cousin lives away from his God-fearing parents in Germany with his husband.” Andrew said, spinning the Rubic’s cube in his hand. “Does that give you a clear enough answer?”

Neil hummed. “My father got locked up for life because of various reasons. My mother’s death was one of them. My only relations run gang operations between France and England. I think we’ve got the same sentiment there.”

Andrew finally stopped his fiddling and graced Neil with a heady gaze. “Let’s not talk about family.”

“Let’s not.” Neil agreed.

Andrew’s fingers reached out: They only just managed to brush gently across the scars on Neil’s cheek, the ones where his father and his assistant had cut bloody revenge onto his face for speaking out against him.

Neil smiled hesitantly with the odd gentleness in Andrew’s touch. Censure passed between them, until Andrew jerked his hand away like Neil’s skin was scalding to the touch.

The odd moment passed, being one of many. Eventually, he found that Andrew’s presence made his shifts pass quicker than normal: The toughest hours were the last, when exhaustion began to settle in. Andrew brought good coffee and quiet conversation, filling up the dark space that always swathed Neil whilst hosting.

It’d been a long while since routine like this, involving and revolving around someone else, had felt comfortable, rather than paranoia inducing or guilt-inspiring.

Neil put it down to the loneliness of the night shift, and assumed Andrew was there for the same reasons.

“You should co-host with me one night.” Neil suggested, as they turned off the lights of the studio and checked the pre-recorded hour of music would carry over until Renee’s morning show.

Andrew was particularly lethargic that night: He’d been growing more accustomed to the later schedules and was almost fully nocturnal at this point. But that night at Eden’s had been particularly gruelling, the slowness of the evening as people became more reluctant to go out due to the weather and the holidays.

That was the only reason Andrew gave a half-hearted shrug, rather than a flat out no. It wasn’t that he’d already entertained the thought. It wasn’t that he’d watched the way Neil came alive when recommending music and talking to various callers, letting his sharp tongue kiss the cheek of death as he pointed out prejudices and subjective opinions.

Neil’s hesitant smile was practically too good to deny.

But being a co-host meant being administered into the payroll of Wymack’s various presenters. His studio wasn’t loosely run, but it wasn’t exactly a commandeered ship either: Andrew’s presence had been mostly unnoticed for about a month and a half.

Six weeks, since Andrew had first walked in with coffee. Six weeks had been all it took for Neil to work up the nerve to ask him to present alongside him. Like presenting was a taboo between them, when they were together exclusively whilst Neil hosted his show. Andrew didn’t hate journalism and presenting. He couldn’t find enough interest in it to hate it.

Andrew did hate Neil, though. He hated that he’d wormed his way past Andrew’s exterior and persisted, until Andrew’s resolve crumbled and Neil could see all of his ugly truths and scars.

“I told Wymack I want to bring on an irregular co-host. That I’ve already found one.” Neil continued.

“Didn’t think to ask me first?”

Neil raised his chin. “You can say no.”

“Shut up.” Andrew muttered, angrier at himself than anyone else. If Kevin found out about this, Andrew was moving to New Zealand and studying fairy penguins for the rest of his life. “Fine.”

It’d only be temporary. Nothing more.

“I thought that was my line.” Neil snarked, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. He looked relaxed. Andrew really wanted to lean over and kiss him.

Oh, he thought vaguely. It wasn’t a new desire, but it’d never been so definite. That’s new.

“Fuck off, Josten.”

Neil only snorted.

He looked back to the phone that sat on Neil’s desk, and wished he’d never fucking called in the first place.

we will get there I PROMISE

#andreil #radio au #neil josten #andrew minyard #part three!! wow #all for the game #media presenter au #jem writes

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dailyaudiobible · 3 years

Text

11/18/2020 DAB Transcript

Ezekiel 37:1-38:23, James 1:19-2:17, Psalms 117:1-2, Proverbs 28:1

Today is the 18th day of November welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is great to be here with you today as we continue the journey, move through hump day here. We started the book of James yesterday or the letter of James in the New Testament. We’ll be can continuing that today, but we began the book of Ezekiel, one of the major prophets in the Scriptures quite a while ago and we’re continuing that journey for about another week I guess until we finish Ezekiel. But we’ll be moving through Ezekiel 37 today, one of my favorite favorite, favorite passages of Scripture, the valley of the dry bones. So, let’s dive in. We’re reading from the New Living Translation this week. Ezekiel 37 and 38.

Commentary:

Okay. First off, in the book of Ezekiel today we read Ezekiel chapter 37 and I said that’s one of my favorite passages of Scripture. The valley of dry bones, that image all the way back from the first time ever read it, but every year that I've read it that imagery just sticks with me. You see that the people are in exile, you see that the people feel like they’re...they’re ruined and that they’re…they’re…like what's gonna happen to them is really, really uncertain. And, so, Ezekiel has his vision…vision of the valley of dry bones. And, so, this is like an ancient battlefield and the dead were never burried, and they just sat in the open field until they became dry bones. So, a very long time they have been sitting there and there's this valley of dry bones. And God asks, “can they live?” And it’s like such an interesting question because we can see the valley of dry bones is a vision, so it's used in metaphorical sense even prophetically here. And, so, we can think about the dry bones in our own lives and then that question comes right? “Can these bones live?” And it's more…it's more confrontational than it seems when you think about the places that you think are dead inside of you. A question, “could these things live again” like…is like in your face because…well…and some of these things we’re like, “whether they could or not, they’re too painful. Like what I went through is too painful. Like I don’t even want to think about this stuff anymore.” Of course, Ezekiel doesn't know whether the dry bones can live again. So, he says the right thing to God, “only you could possibly know the answer to that question.” And answering that question God told Ezekiel to prophesy to the dead bones, to call the four winds, the breath of life from the four winds. And he did and those dry bones came back together again, and they received muscle and skin and sinew, and they came back to life again. So, out of a battlefield full of defeated warriors, life came. That has always stuck with me and after a couple years of reading it it just really felt like the Lord was speaking into my spirit, “build a wind farm.” And not like a literal like wind farm with windmills creating energy to power my house, a spiritual windfarm, one that is continually calling to the four winds, the breath of life in every way possible. And, so, that's why prayer in our community is so vital to our community. Yes, it keeps us in touch with each other. Yes, we cry together. Yes, we rejoice together. Yes, indeed we get to know each other as we stay focused and moving together through the Scriptures. Yes to all of that, but we are also calling the breath of life into what looks like it's dead on a continual basis and it matters. It's even why when we…when we began to roast our own coffee and import tea. It's why the brand is called Windfarm because in every way that we can we want to be doing that, calling the four winds, the breath of life into that which is dead all around us.

And now let’s turn to the book of James and let me quote here, and I don't think this needs a lot of interpretation really. Let me just quote from the letter. “Don't just listen to God's word. You must do what it says otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves. For if you listen to the word and don't obey it is like glancing at your face in a mirror. You see yourself, walk away and forget what you look like.” Is that the truth or not? I mean maybe we don't look in a physical mirror like we’re fixing our hair for work and then we go to work and we don't remember what we look like, but spiritually we behave this way all of the time. We can at one moment know fully who we are in Christ and that we are actually a child of the most-high God and then we can walk out the door and live like sons and daughters of the evil one or live completely confused and disoriented. We forgot our identity. We forgot what we look like. And, so let’s take that heart today as well, and just let it kind of ruminate, let it stew, let it just percolate through our…through our day. Let's watch ourselves. Have we forgot who we are? Have we forgotten what we look like? Is that what our behaviors erratically are showing, or do we know exactly who we are in Christ?

Prayer:

Father, it’s kind of like James says, intellectually we know what the Scriptures say about who we are, we have heard the good news, but You're saying You can’t just listen to it, You have to live into it, You have to become it otherwise it’s just…You’re just fooling Yourself. So, we don’t want any part of that. We’re here to learn, we’re here to grow, we’re here with the goal that we would be transformed into Your likeness because this is what the Scriptures tell us is happening, that this is what's going on. And, so, when we claim our faith and then go out into the day and act like anything but a person who's in love with You, then we are just fooling ourselves. And then we would have the audacity to be angry at You for not jumping into every beck and call, like it ever time we ring the little bell You’re just supposed to show up when we don't even know who we are. And, so, once again we reorient ourselves to You. Our identity can only be found in You. You bestow an identity upon us, and You have done that. You have grafted us into Your family and made us joint heirs with Jesus to Your kingdom. That is who we are. May we live like it today. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it is the website, it’s where you find out what's going on around here. Say it most every day, this is where to find out what was going on around here.

We have the Global Campfire Initiative going on around here right now although this is the final day. And I won’t be mentioning it anymore. It will be concluded, and I just want to thank everybody. Honestly, it’s so humbling. I just want to thank everyone who has participated in this. So, happy. So happy to send you the heart album, the LP. I just love it. And, so, I'm so happy to be able to send that to you and I…I trust that you will hold onto it and treasure it and that it will be a memento of this year that we spent together in God's word. The one thing that sort of stabilized the year, at least for me, in spite of all of the just challenges, some of the very, very…we have had some significant societal challenges in the last 12 months that have taught us a lot and the Scriptures being the constant through that…just…I thank you for your partnership as we continue to move forward and be in a position where we will be here no matter what happens in the world. And that is the goal. We will keep spinning the windfarm, right? We’ll keep calling to the four winds, the breath of life. We will keep speaking the word of God out over the earth as long as God will allow us to, as long as we stay in this together. And, so, thank you profoundly for everybody who has participated in this. Today, like I said, today is the last day. If you want to get involved and participate in this than here's what you do, you can use the web, or you can use the Daily Audio Bible app. If you want to use the web go to dailyaudiobible.com. When you get to the website you will see up at the top, the navigation and you'll see Initiatives. Press that button and you'll find the Global Campfire initiative in there. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you'll notice that there's a little Drawer icon. It's in the upper left-hand corner. When you press that the drawer opens. When the drawer opens, you'll find initiatives. Press that and you’ll find the Global Campfire initiative. And again, I thank you with all my heart.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button that's in the app. It’s the red button that looks kind of like a hotline button, lives kind of up at the top in the app screen. No matter where you are in the app you can find it. So, you can press that, or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Good morning everyone it’s Susan from Canada God’s Yellow Flower calling and it’s the wee hours of the morning and it’s very quiet here and I am just loving the depth of the stillness of the time I have with God. And I just want to thank Him in the spirit of Thanksgiving for this month and always of course. I want to thank him and give him glory for in the midst of heavy trials we still have blessings and if we focus on God, we see the blessings. I hear the cold wind raging outside and here I sit in a warm cozy place. I look at our cupboards and they’ve got an abundance of food in there. I look at the relationship that my son Keith and I have developed through this illness that we are…that we are going through together and I just…I just praise him for the closeness and the love that we share and the bonds we have for each other. It’s only because of the Lord that we can do this. And I just give Him all the praise and glory for this time I have with my son before he…before he passes. So, there’s lots to be thankful for in the midst of crisis and just look for your blessings and be thankful. Love you all. Bye now.

Good afternoon DABbers this is Running Desperately to Jesus also known as Staying Desperately Connected to Jesus. I don’t even know where to begin with thanking everybody for their prayers. I was just so overwhelmed. I have fought with depression for a while; however never have hit the part where I went into a dark space and wasn’t able to pull myself out. But just like Moses’ arms were held up and the war was one and when his hands were let down the war was being lost, my Daily Audio Bible family lifted me up and the battle was one. So, although there still continues to be struggles, of course, in just daily living I know where to turn, first to God and then of course to my Daily Audio Bible family, which is so awesome. I wish I had the opportunity to meet every one of you. However, we all know that we’re striving for that mark to be with Him and will all get to meet each other one day. Again, I thank all of you. I…it took me a while to make this call because I wanted to be able to speak and not cry and I think I’ve accomplished it. Running Desperately to Jesus. Also Staying Desperately Connected to Jesus. I love my family.

[singing starts] Thank you Jesus thank you Jesus thank you Lord for loving me. Thank you, Jesus thank you Jesus thank you Lord for loving me [singing stops]. Father God thank You that You meet us where we are. Lord we invite You into where we are right now whether we are celebrating or we’re happy, joyful or we’re sad or worried and anxious and we’re afraid or we’re sitting in darkness. Father God thank You that You meet us where we are and thank You Lord that You meet us in our darkness. Shine Your light into our lives Lord. Shine so bright that…that everything else pales into comparison to You, that the shadows flee. Father God, we might feel that we don’t have strength to face tomorrow. We might feel that we don’t know what to do or that we can’t do what’s in front of us. Thank You, Lord that You give us what we need. Thank You for meeting us where we are and thank You for carrying us through. In Jesus’ holy and precious name. Amen. Hi guys is Michaela from Gloucester hope You have a blessed day where You are.

Good morning DAB family this is Eyes of a Dove in Snoqualmie Washington. I had a wonderful weekend but it’s like to me confessing something and then asking for your guy’s prayer and support. All of us on here are…none of us are perfect. And I know that we can all come across perfect or not. I think that’s what brings us all together. You know, we seek to be like Jesus. And I’ve come from a really broken past, broken marriage and at a time when me and my three kids we had nobody and I got into construction to take care of them but with that came pride and being the breadwinner and not wanting another…a man in my life, which led to actually finding a guy and after 2 ½ years of being together last night he asked me to marry him and I said yes. And it’s kind of a secret because shamefully we’re all together, our kids, and we know that’s not under the Lords…what He would want for us. And he wants us to be united under Him in marriage. And, so, I come to you and confess that I’ve been hiding out from you guys.Felt ashamed. And I would like you guys to lift me and Izzy and Braden and the kids all up in prayer. We all desire to be one family. All the kids have been bugging us for months and praying for us that we would and now we are. And now we have to figure out a way to have a wedding and we don’t want a big affair, but we do want our moms and dads there and with Covid restrictions in Washington state it’s made it much more difficult. So, if you all would just be praying the Lord would bless our union and continue to heal us and help us have a great marriage…

Unless the Lord had been my help my soul would soon have slipped into the silence. If I say my foot is slipping your mercy Lord will hold me up. In the multitude of my anxieties your comforts are my delight. I’m saying this particular verse from Psalm 94 verse 17 to 19 for my teacher sister all the way in California who called in, Dorothea, who shared her own anxieties with the overwhelming workload as being a teacher. I am in the same boat here in the UK by the way is Dr. Cano calling from the UK and honestly, I could relate to what you are sharing. The demands upon us are so many but we thank God that the burden that we get from Jesus is light because he carries every single weight, every single anxiety and we can find comfort in Him. And my prayer for you sis and my prayer for myself and every other person who’s working during this time is that the Lord will give us different strategies, wisdom to manage the workload. He will give us ways to communicate to those who are our seniors for them to support us in this work that we are doing, and the Lord will indeed crown our efforts with success in the mighty name of Jesus. I pray for all the first responders __ staff here in the UK, nurses, doctors, police officers, every single person who is working tirelessly during this time, may the Lord strengthen you, may he empower you, may He give you courage and wisdom. And even for those who are the recipients of our care, our students, our patients, Lord bestow your blessing upon each one in the mighty name of Jesus. God bless you my Daily Audio Bible family. I love you so much and thank you so much Brian for this wonderful ministry. I’ve been loving it for over three years.

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adolanables · 5 years

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The City - Chapter 20 (G.D)

The City Masterlist

CHAPTER 20

The past few weeks had been so different. Everything felt so strange and empty without Grayson, but you knew it was for the best. After the serious conversation the two of you had, Grayson had agreed to talk to Ethan with you. He didn’t want to, and you could tell it hurt his pride, but he didn’t complain once – he knew this was the only way to keep you.

Ethan was shocked to say the least. He knew Grayson needed help and would’ve been happy to support him getting that for as long as the problem had existed, but you can’t force someone to get help. If they don’t want to do it, it won’t ever work. Ethan had nearly given up hope on Grayson ever being clean again. So when you and Grayson showed up at his door, Grayson’s face puffy and red from crying, Ethan was speechless. Of course, Ethan wasn’t able to get the bill of the facility all on his own, so he reached out to their mom. Their sweet, beautiful mother who lived back in New Jersey. Neither of them had ever mentioned their parents, so when Ethan’s voice softened and a sparkle formed in his eye as he spoke to his mother on the phone, you couldn’t help but smile.

Apparently she was well aware of Grayson’s problem and it had caused a wedge between the two of them. She and Ethan talked frequently and he went home to see her for every holiday, but Grayson was not so similar. He had gone home for Thanksgiving and Christmas for the first few years they had been in Chicago, but it slowly dwindled. As he got further into drugs, he grew farther away from his family. His mom would confront him about it and eventually he just stopped answering phone calls, stopped going home to avoid the disappointment he felt from her. When he heard her sobbing on the other side of the phone he buried his head in his hands, taking in a deep breath. Knowing how deeply he hurt two very important women in his life was eating him alive. She had agreed to pay for the entire treatment program as long as he came back to New Jersey to do it so she could see him.

Grayson wanted to argue that compromise, but you had shook your head at him, assuring him this was for the best. There was a two day turn around in between the time that phone call took place and the time he had to be at the airport. You barely had time to be sad about him leaving with everything that was going on. Ethan had helped the two of you pack up a large suitcase full of Grayson’s clothing and necessities. You were shocked that Ethan had never been to Grayson’s house, and even more confused that you didn’t see any of his “roommates” again.

Grayson was quiet during the entire process. He was on the phone often, communicating with members of the business he was involved in. To your relief, they had agreed to let Grayson buy himself out of the hole he had dug himself – a price Ethan wasn’t pleased with but was willing to pay to save his brother.

The two nights he spent with you before having to fly back to New Jersey early in the morning were different too. He was quiet and solemn the first night, his arms holding you to his chest tightly for hours. When the two of you woke up the next morning, his forehead was laced with sweat, lips pale, he didn’t want to move. You soon realized he was going through the beginning of withdrawal symptoms and felt your heart break. You still didn’t know just how serious this problem was or how often Grayson used – and you probably never would. That day you held him closely for hours, feeding him soup and water when he would take it and pressing soft kisses to his forehead. From you hurting your arm, to Grayson experiencing withdrawal, you were pretty much forced to stay home from work. Thankfully, you hadn’t taken any days off work, so taking a few off for this was easy enough.

The car ride to the airport was quiet – Ethan was going with Grayson to visit his mom and help him get settled into the facility. You wished you could have gone with, but you weren’t supposed to travel until your arm was fully healed. On top of that, you knew you should get back to work – that is why you were here after all. Grayson was understanding, his hand laced through yours until he had to go through security.

“You’ll come visit, yeah?” His brows furrowed together, doubt and worry exposed in his voice.

“Yeah, Gray, and I’ll write – already typing out my first letter to ya.”You smiled softly, reassuring him as he squeezed your hand.

His hand fell from yours and his arms wrapped around you, squeezing the air from your lungs. He was holding onto you for dear life. You could hear his breathing getting ragged and you rubbed his back gently, trying to calm him down. “I love you, El. Please don’t forget me.” He muttered into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple and pulling away from you, heading towards the security line with Ethan.

You sighed softly, loving to hear that he loved you, but also hurting deeply that he had to question your commitment to him. You hoped he didn’t doubt your care for him because you weren’t able to say it back yet. Truthfully, you knew you loved Grayson, but those words were so powerful and put you in a giant position to be hurt. You were terrified to say you loved him and open yourself up to that pain.

It had been three weeks that Gray had been gone and you were truly struggling. No, you had never had the pleasure of seeing him daily, but those nights spent tangled up with each other on the weekends set your soul on fire. You missed him so much. You had sent him 2-3 letters a week and he was writing back frequently. The misspelled words on the pages made your heart burst. He seemed to have finally gotten through the worst of the withdrawal, he said the first week or so was absolute hell. Ethan had stayed in New Jersey for a week, going to see his brother daily. When he returned, you couldn’t help but meet him at the door, ready to bombard him with questions.

“E!” You grinned at the tall boy walking towards you.

“I’d love to believe you were this excited to see me, but I know you want me for my brother.” He smirked, unlocking his door and stepping inside with you. “Whatcha wanna know Ella?”

“Just – how is he? How’s your mom? How’s… everything?”

“Woah woah.” He chuckled, holding his hands up. “He seems to be doing okay. It’s hard for him obviously, but the place is nice – the workers are extremely experienced – I just really think it’s going to help him.” He spoke seriously. “He and mom saw each other when she picked us up from the airport… and I just think her disappointment in him really gets to him. He was completely shut down until he went into the facility… I’m hoping they can work it out eventually.”

“Oh…” You bit your lower lip, upset that things hadn’t gone better with Grayson and his mom. “Well, hopefully.” You shook your head, ready to change the subject. “Do you think it would be easy for me to visit for a few days? Like does his schedule allow that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Ethan nodded at you. “He has about 3 hours of free time a day where he can have visitors and there’s a nice hotel a few minutes down the road from the place.” A soft smile played on his lips as a giddy grin spread across yours. “Arm feeling all better?”

“Still a little sore every now and then, but no more sling!” You clapped, following him into his apartment.

The two of you talked for the next hour or so before you wandered back to your apartment. The sadness you once felt going home alone wasn’t the same anymore. You weren’t sad that you were alone anymore – because you didn’t feel like you were. Grayson was there with you as much as he could be, and you could only hope he felt like you were there with him. You prayed he was able to finish the program on time and get back to Chicago to be in your arms.

You sat down on the end of your couch, opened up your laptop and booked your flight to Jersey for the weekend.

The day had finally come that you were going to see Grayson. It had been a little over a month since you had last seen him, and it almost felt like it had been an entire year. He wasn’t allowed to make phone calls, so the only communication you’d had with him was the lengthy letters the two of you were writing back and forth. He was so excited that you were coming, even if it was only for three days.

You had gotten a Monday off at work, so you were heading up to Jersey for the weekend. The ride to the airport Friday night felt like it took forever and getting through security definitely took forever. Ethan had offered to ask his mom to pick you up from the airport in Jersey, but you felt like the bond between her and Grayson needed to be fixed before you stepped into the picture. So when you arrived at the airport, you quickly got a rental car and took off on the hour drive to where Grayson was.

Unfortunately, visiting hours at the facility were only in the afternoons and you were sure Grayson was probably already asleep. You checked into the small hotel you were staying at, cleaned yourself up and fell into a deep sleep.

“Miss Fisher?” The receptionist smiled at you politely as she extended a clipboard full of forms to you. “I’ll just need you to fill out these forms and then you’ll be good to go.”

You signed the forms at lightning speed, just wanting to get to Grayson. The entire morning went by painfully slowly, you had wandered around the small town and ate breakfast and lunch. Finally, you were at the facility, filling out these forms in the fancy waiting room. When you had pulled up to the place, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. You were so grateful the Dolan’s mom had been so adamant about Grayson coming here, it was beautiful and fancy and you felt good knowing he was somewhere reputable.

“Alright, Miss Fisher.” The lady smiled at you again as she took the clipboard from you. “Mr. Dolan has requested his visit to take place outside. I will escort you now.”

Quietly following the dainty woman into the building, she walked you through what looked to be a lounge area with an abundance of flat screen TVs and comfortable couches. A few people were relaxing there quietly. Soon, the two of you were outside on a wooden patio full of full grown vines and flowers – it was beautiful. She guided you to the corner of the garden area and you were sure your heart was about to beat right out of your chest as Grayson’s familiar face appeared behind the trees.

“I’ll leave you two.” She grinned. “A staff member will come find you to let you know when there are thirty minutes remaining in the visit.”

“Ella.” Grayson stood up, hands in his pockets, a small smile playing on his lips. His hair was longer, beard had almost fully grown in, his skin was paler, but the circles under his eyes were less prominent and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

“Gray…” You breathed, taking a few steps towards him. He lifted his arms up to wrap around you and soon the two of you were embracing tightly, both pressing kisses into the others’ neck, small whimpers falling from your lips as you tried to hold back tears.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Grayson chuckled, pulling back from you for a moment to wipe a tear from your face. “Don’t be sad.”

“I’m not sad, I’m happy.” You shook your head at him, sniffling slightly and smiling at him. “I’m so happy Grayson.”

“Ay, there’s my girl.” His smile widened as he picked you up off the ground for a second. He pulled you back towards the bench he was sitting on. “So these visits are kind of weird… we have to stay here and I can take you to my room if I let a staff member know we’re going there.” He shrugged, pulling you down onto his lap, leaving his arms wrapped lazily around your waist.

“That’s okay, I’m just thrilled to see you.” You leaned back into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “How are you, Gray?”

“I’m doing really good, El.” He breathed into your hair, his thumb rubbing circles on your wrist. “It was really fucking hard those first few weeks, I’m not gonna lie. I wanted to leave – I really did. But it’s been getting easier and I’ve been able to appreciate the quiet here.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s just really different – a complete 180 from my life for the past few years.”

“I’m really proud of you.” You muttered, squeezing his hand in yours. All you wanted was to hold him close to you for hours and kiss him endlessly – but you knew you couldn’t. Physical intimacy was strictly prohibited on visits.

“I’m really proud of me too.” He chuckled softly. “I don’t know if I’m gonna get out on time…” His voice faltered and you could barely hear what he had said.

“Wha- why do you think that?” His confession made your heart rate increase and you tried your best to keep your breathing at bay so he couldn’t detect your disappointment. This was supposed to be a two month program if all things went well, but it wasn’t uncommon for someone to have to stay longer – or so Ethan said.

“I just had such a hard time coming in, I-“ He coughed, trying to steady his voice. He was grateful he wasn’t looking you in your eyes right now, he would definitely have broken down. “I had to go into critical 24 hour watch for the first three weeks when I should’ve been starting on the program on week two… so I’m about two weeks behind.”

“Oh, Gray…” You turned around on his lap to face him, your chest tightening at the red ring around his eyes. “It’s okay, it’s just a few extra weeks – anything to get you back to where you need to be, yeah?” You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, hoping no one would pop out of the bushes to tell you two to stop touching each other.

“I know, I know.” He grinned up at you, leaning into your peck. “It just sucks, but I’m really focusing on getting better – only about a month left to go I think.”

The two of you spent the next three hours talking about everything under the sun. Most of the time you were asking him questions about the program, about his mom – everything. Eventually, Grayson was able to turn the conversation back to you and your job, how your arm had healed; your heart swelled at his efforts to actually ask about you. It was apparent how much he had missed you, he wouldn’t let you move off of him, his eyes watering every time you mentioned a moment back at home when you wished he would’ve been there.

Of course rehab wasn’t easy, and Grayson never expected it to be, but he had never thought the hardest part would be missing his Ella. They had barely known each other three months when he came here, but he felt like he’d known her for three lifetimes. He knew he’d screwed up so many times in the time he’d known her and he was determined to never hurt her again. The way she had looked at him in fear after the night at the club was more than enough to convince him to come to rehab – he just needed the extra push to get it done.

The way her long brown hair flowed softly in the wind and her eyes lit up when he spoke made his chest tighten. He wanted to leave this place with her right now – go back to Chicago and curl up in her little apartment and never come out. He couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. The no intimacy rule was really driving him crazy too – her small sundress and sweater was purposely worn to look innocent and classy but it was driving him crazy. He hadn’t touched her in over a month and the fact that he couldn’t kiss her – he could barely handle it.

When he had told her about the extra time he was probably going to have to stay, he could tell she was trying to hide her disappointment. Her face fell immediately and she had held her breath for a few seconds, but the way she hyped him up and assured him it was okay meant so much to him. She really was here for him in every way possible and wanted nothing but the best for him. He was so grateful she hadn’t come with Ethan when he had been admitted. The days Ethan visited that first week were some of the worst days of his life. Ethan would never have told Ella what he saw and Grayson knew that, but he wished even Ethan had never seen what he was going through. The withdrawal and mental turmoil of those few weeks was enough to make anyone lose their minds, but the letters he had back and forth with Ella helped him stay strong through it.

“Mr. Dolan – Miss Fisher?” The friendly receptionist had appeared in the walkway to the bench once again, a disapproving look on her face as she took in your position on Grayson’s lap. “Thirty minutes until the end of visiting hours.” She smiled politely and took off back into the building.

You slipped off of Grayson’s lap and giggled, opting to hold his hand instead. “I wish this was longer…” You sighed, squeezing his hand in yours and resting your head onto his shoulder.

“We have two more days at least.” Grayson kissed the top of her head, smelling in her sweet vanilla shampoo. “Tomorrow I got permission for us to order pizza and eat in my room.”

“That’ll be fun.” You grinned, remembering how many times you’d eaten pizza with Grayson.

Soon enough the thirty minutes was up and it was time for you to leave. Grayson’s face fell as the staff members appeared to walk them both up to the front of the building. They allowed the two of you to hold hands up until you had to walk out of the door, Grayson sneaking in a quick hug as he whispered goodbye to you.

The rest of the evening was admittedly pretty hard for you. Seeing Grayson had been such a high, but leaving him and having to accept the fact that he really was in rehab was so hard. You couldn’t see him whenever you wanted to and in two days you were going to have to leave him again for probably another month. It hurt your soul that you weren’t able to take off work more often to see him, but you were saving up your personal days to be able to spend some time with him when he eventually came back to Chicago.

One thing you were grateful for was that Grayson seemed like the same person – aside from his restrained behavior due to the rules. He still made his snarky comments at you, held you close to him, but he was so much… sweeter with you? You weren’t sure why that was, maybe he realized how much you cared for him, but you weren’t going to complain. You already couldn’t wait to go back and see him tomorrow.

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sign-from-god-complex · 5 years

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A Gift From Me To You - Epilogue

Chapter Summary: They were ridiculously domestic, and Patton wouldn’t have them any other way.

Warnings: There’s purely theoretical talk of suicide and major character death (of like, old age) that aren’t actually happening in the story.

A/N: And that’s all he wrote, folks! Thank you so much to all of y’all who’ve followed along with this story and left nice comments (and I do read every tag on all of my writing), it really means the world to me. I’ve put,,, A Lot of effort into this fic and I’m pretty proud of how it’s turned out, all things considered.

I truly hope you’ve all enjoyed it.

AO3 Link // Link to Chapter One! // And Two! // And Three! // And Four! // And Five! // And Six! // And Seven! // And Eight!

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Our final act opens on an apartment located in the centre of town.

It’s a cozy little apartment, collections of pillows and blankets gathered on couches and trinkets covering every surface—a result of the hoarding tendencies of a few of the occupants. The blinds of the outside windows were pulled open, letting the late morning sunlight stream into the living room and illuminating the slightly hectic scene before us.

Patton was curled up in the armchair, watching Roman rush to and fro as he frantically searched for his keys.

He’d basically been at that all morning, having been tricked into sleepy early morning cuddles with Virgil—the way the three of them often seemed to on days they had commitments—and falling behind in his morning routine. Patton wasn’t entirely sure whether it was a coincidence or whether their boyfriend knew they had to get up and be productive but on those days he just seemed considerably more alluring.

Said Virgil glanced up from his phone, disturbing Logan who was resting against his shoulder despite how small the movement was.

“Have you checked the fridge?”

Roman stopped in the middle of rifling through the cupboard near the front door, turning to give his boyfriend a disbelieving look. “The fridge?”

“I dunno,” Virgil shrugged, returning to disinterestedly scrolling through his phone, “That’s usually where my lost stuff ends up. I have a theory that one of us is sleepwalking and moving our shit.”

“Language, Virgil!” Patton chastised.

Virgil muttered through his apologies as Roman rushed into the kitchen. Patton just hoped they hadn’t left any knives out on the counter because at the speed Roman was moving there’s no telling what could happen—they didn’t want a repeat of last year’s Thanksgiving.

After just a moment a triumphant cry was heard, Roman running his way back into the room, his eyes bright. He stopped off at the couch, swooping down to plant a kiss on Virgil’s cheek and delighting at the way his boyfriend immediately began to blush, before looping back around to grab his bag from the hook by the door.

“They were in the fridge! Thank you, my emo nightmare!”

“Yeah, whatever. I wouldn’t even need to suggest it if our shh—” Virgil caught Patton’s mouth tighten out of the corner of his eye. “—hhhtuff didn’t end up in the fridge in the first place.”

The way he said it was slightly accusing, but not in a malicious way, just in a way that indicated that he was tired of having to defrost his belongings every morning.

“Talk to Dr Picani about it at your next appointment,” Logan mumbled. He stretched against Virgil’s side, stifling a yawn. “The onset of sleepwalking could have a psychological basis if it’s not something any of us had previously experienced.”

It was one of Logan’s regulated days off—implemented to ensure that he didn’t overwork himself—so he’d apparently decided to protest by working through the entire evening instead. The three of them had already berated him for that earlier this morning. Now, they were simply trying to convince him to take a nap, though Patton imagined it was hard to stay asleep with Roman buzzing about like a suburban housewife before a dinner party.

“Oh!” Roman exclaimed, “Speaking of Dr Picani, I should head off soon or I’m going to be late. Do any of you need anything while I’m there?”

Logan blinked sleepily and Patton had to fight to not coo at how cute his boyfriend was when he was half-awake. “I… believe I may have left my coat at my last appointment, would you be able to-”

“No problem, specs.”

“Excellent.” Logan evidently decided to take that as the end of his portion of the conversation, as he dropped his head into Virgil’s lap, humming softly as Virgil instinctively went to run a hand through it.

“How about you, Virge?” Roman asked, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly.

“Nah, I’m good. Though—” Virgil looked up from his phone to properly address his boyfriend—“I’ve invited Remy over tonight so if you can pick up some snacks on your way home that’d be cool.”

Roman rolled his eyes with far more intensity than was probably necessary. “Ugh! That asshole?”

“Funny,” Virgil smirked, giving Roman a knowing look, “I distinctly remember someone calling them a "cool dude" the first time we met.”

“Well, that was before I got to know them!”

Virgil studied him for a second, eyes narrowed yet amused. “…You’re still salty that we kicked your ass at Mario Kart, aren’t you?”

A grin broke out on Virgil’s face at the immediate protests from Roman and Logan in the form of both spluttering and a long-winded rant which seemed to only contain a lot of useless excuses—a favourite of Logan’s. It was… ridiculously domestic, and Patton would not have had it any other way.

They still didn’t really understand how or why their soulmarks had developed—Logan had done a lot of research, including discussions with university professors and “soulmark experts” but to no avail, they just hadn’t been able to get a definitive answer. Patton, however, had his own theory.

Things had needed to happen this way and the universe had simply recognised that.

Love is a journey, something you learn to give throughout your life, especially when you’re set to undergo as many challenges as the four of them had. Patton isn’t sure how he feels about fate but he knows in his heart that things would have been… different if they had developed their soulmarks when they were supposed to.

And he was right.

Logan had needed to wait. He’d needed time to develop feelings before his soulmark appeared, needed it to be clear he was the one in control of his own destiny.

There were a billion ways Logan’s story could have ended, but the worst were the ones where he died cold and alone, regretting with every inch of his decaying form that he hadn’t spent more time caring for others. The pursuit of knowledge was all well and good, but it’s little comfort when relaxing into the cold embrace of death.

He would wish for someone to be there with him—someone with a soft, warm smile and compassionate words, someone with large and excitable gestures, ready to tell him a story to soothe his mind, someone soft and quiet, eyes filled with tears and silent acceptance. He would lay there wishing for people who would make him feel loved and fulfilled until he felt finally nothing at all.

There’s no way to know for sure that what he had been given was the best outcome, but there was also no way to know that it wasn’t.

Roman had also needed to wait.

He’d needed to learn that he was a person, first and foremost. He was not one half of a whole, he was a unique individual who may be made better by being in a partnership, but had an intrinsic worth of his own—he may not have quite reached that point by the time he’d met his soulmates, but he’d made a start, and it was enough.

Had Roman developed a soulmark when he was a child the way he “should have” he would have spent his whole relationship basing his self-worth on the love he received from his partners. Fights would have been a nightmare for him, making him feel worthless and unlovable. He would have stormed out a million times, he would have sobbed to himself to sleep, unable to confront the others about the way his heart broke with each criticism and how deep his depression and insecurities actually ran.

In some universes that was all Roman could handle. And they never recovered.

Patton had needed to wait. He’d needed a chance to develop the optimistic outlook that he had, a unique perspective comprised of years of contemplation and familial love.

Not having a soulmark had given him something that had not only altered his view of the world but those around him's too. Patton’s intense empathy and care for others was an integral part of his character, it did not vary too much throughout his different stories, but his success rate did.

Patton had saved people’s lives. Whether this was something he was aware of remained to be seen, however, it was unfortunately not always the case. Sometimes Patton failed—even in the universe that played out, Patton had failed—but his outlook gave him a weapon. It gave him a fighting chance at convincing people to stay, to convince them that they are more than a soulbond—they are a human being.

Sometimes he gave too much of himself away, but he here had the others to keep him grounded and safe.

And lastly, Virgil had needed to wait. Much like Roman, he'd needed a chance to develop a sense of self-worth, but instead of separate from those who may be close to him, separate from societal norms.

Virgil grew up knowing what soulmates were supposed to be like. He grew up knowing the responsibility and the expectations that came with it, hearing all those beautiful love stories of people dying for their soulmates, thinking that’s what you were supposed to do. But now he knew better.

Due to not having a soulmark, Virgil had been removed from the situation. None of those expectations had been placed on him, and he’d come to learn that although rejection is terrifying and people can be cruel, he was allowed to want things for himself. He was allowed to establish boundaries and he was not at the whim of anybody but himself.

Gaining a soulmark when he was a child would have caused Virgil to push himself far beyond what he was ever comfortable with. And Roman—desperately seeking any kind of attention—would have taken and taken and taken without knowing how much it was weighing on Virgil, without ever recognising how drained and miserable his boyfriend had become.

He would’ve found it hard to be happy in his relationship and he would hate himself for feeling that way because they’re his soulmates. He’s supposed to give them everything he has! Even if he’s feeling like he’s running out of things to give.

But none of that happened.

All the ways the events of this story could have played out were not how they played out. The universe knew they had to wait… and so they'd waited.

Their soulmark, though not representing a significant moment in their lives the way they often did, was far from chosen at random—Asters represent love and patience, and after all, the four of them had certainly gained that.

Patton may not know the specifics, but he knew in his heart that the way things had gone resulted in the best possible outcome for all of them. The story may be unconventional, sure, but it was theirs. And he was so incredibly grateful that he got to be a part of it.

“Patton?”

The sound of his name broke Patton free from his thoughts. He jerked his head up from where his gaze had been trailing slow swirls on the carpet, a soft, “Hmm?” pulled from his throat almost instinctively.

Roman was looking at him, head tilted and mild concern painting his features, as Patton belatedly realised he’d been asked a question. Darn.

“I asked if you needed anything while I was with…” Roman trailed off, eyes flickering over his boyfriend’s face as if searching for something. “Are you alright?”

Both of the others were also looking over now, though Logan’s eyes were half closed as he was still partly in the clutches of sleep. Virgil had even placed his phone down, his expression clearly worried, and Patton couldn’t fight the impulse to just soothe their unease.

“Oh! Um, of course, I am!” he answered quickly, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Virgil threw him a disapproving look. Virgil was—Patton might say unfortunately, but he knows he that he shouldn’t—very good at seeing through his lies, so bottling things up wasn’t really an option anymore. Of course, he knows it’s good for his mental health in the long run, but it certainly doesn’t make things easy for him.

“Patton…”

He winced. “Right, right, not hiding my feelings, I know. It’s just-”

He could feel tears building up behind his eyes, threatening to spill out, and Roman strode quickly across the living room floor to kneel in front of him. Taking Patton’s hands gently into his own, Roman pressed a kiss to his palm, pulling them close to his chest and Patton had to bite at his lip to stop from bursting into tears immediately.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” His voice was sweet and understanding and Patton was so full of love for them all that it was overwhelming. “Is something wrong?”

“No! It’s just…” Patton inhaled shakily, eyes scanning over to Virgil and Logan sitting on the couch. Logan had clearly decided this was something worth sitting up for, though he was still leaning against Virgil, who was leaning back into him in turn.

It was sweet just how cuddly Logan got when he was sleepy. Previously, Patton had only had the pleasure of knowing Roman’s level of affection—which was A Lot, All the Time, Yes Please and Thank You—but now he knew Logan’s gentle guiding touches, Virgil’s absentminded petting, the way that sleep made both of them incredibly clingy.

He knew the way Virgil would seek him out after a long day to lie with his head in Patton’s lap, listening to Patton babble on and on to keep his mind off of things. He knew the way Logan would melt if Patton wrapped his arms around him when Logan was working at his desk, all the stress and tension disappearing in the warmth of his touch. He knew how Roman would swirl patterns into his skin as they laid in bed, trying to drift off, never quite settling until all three of them had finally curled up beside him.

He dropped his eyes down to Roman’s chest where his hands were still held, shaking his head slightly in disbelief because this is something he gets to have.

Gods, he was so lucky.

“...You’re all so perfect, you know that?” He looked to meet their slightly stunned expressions, his eyes crinkling at the corners as more tears gathered. “And I love you so, so much.”

The admission prompted a soft, quiet smile to appear on Roman’s face—it was a smile reserved solely for the three of them and it made Patton’s chest lift as tears began to fall. Roman reached out, wiping them away as they made their appearances, pressing lightly against his skin.

“Jeez, Pat, you make it sound like you’re dying,” Virgil joked, but the fond look in his eyes gave him away—he was a sap at heart, even if he’d never admit it.

Patton laughed wetly. “No, no, I’m not dying. ‘m just happy.”

“Well, we love you too, sweetheart.”

Roman leant up to press a kiss to his cheek and Patton felt himself flush slightly at the contact—casual affection was the way to his heart and they all knew it. He did love big displays—it was very sweet when his boyfriends (usually Roman) went to all that effort—but the soft, little everyday things definitely meant a lot to him.

“Of course, we do.” Logan shifted around on the couch, barely stifling a yawn.

Virgil wrapped his arm around Logan’s shoulders, softening as his boyfriend burrowed further into him before gesturing for Patton to move towards them. “Come ‘ere, babe. We demand cuddles.”

Patton giggled, retrieving his hands from Roman and pulling himself up out of the chair. They were all well aware that he could never turn down cuddles. He flopped himself down next to them, seeing the way Logan immediately adjusted to the change, managing somehow to commandeer Patton’s arm and chest as well as Virgil’s in some sort of twisted up human pretzel of a cuddle pile.

Roman had stood up as Patton had and appeared as if he were about to join them, but was stopped abruptly by Logan’s muffled voice.

“Roman. Appointment.”

Roman’s eyes widened, inhaling sharply in alarm. “Ah, shoot. I’m definitely going to be late. What’s the time?”

Virgil, having decided to give himself up to the cuddling, only muttered something incoherently, so Patton grabbed his own phone out of his pocket, trying his best not to jostle the half-asleep Logan.

“Oh!” Patton lit up as his screen turned on, displaying the time. “11:11! Make a wish!”

Two-thirds of the cuddle pile groaned, with interspersed muttering from Logan about how wishes were illogical and how 11:11 is a no more significant time than any other. For just a moment, though, the apartment fell silent, and Patton knew despite their protests they were wishing still.

And then it passed, Roman startling them out of the quiet with a goodbye, a chaste forehead kiss for each of them—though he couldn’t quite reach Logan’s forehead in the position he was in and had to settle for the top of his head instead—and a slam of the door.

Patton grabbed the remote to switch on the TV, trying to find something to occupy himself until he had to start lunch. Virgil eventually picked his phone back up, sending memes to Roman for him to see after his appointment just in case things got too emotional. Logan, surrounded by the warmth of his boyfriends, finally managed to fall asleep for a short duration, though he was abruptly awoken 20 minutes later by Remy’s arrival.

Patton was always adamant that if you say your wish aloud it won’t come true. As such, the four of them had no way of knowing that at that moment each of them had wished for the same thing—the one thing that they could think to want for.

Logan, vulnerable for the first time in his life, relishing in the way it felt to open up knowing you’re only going to receive love and care in return, knowing that he was safe.

Virgil, comfortable and accepted and far happier than he’d ever thought he could be, aware that finally he’d found his place—somewhere he didn’t have to worry.

Roman, experiencing the security of having people who adored him, making an effort to understand just how wonderful he truly was and how many good things he deserved.

Patton surrounded by all the love he’d ever wanted, feeling bright and hopeful for the rest of their lives together, feeling like he was finally living up to all those expectations he’d put on himself.

All of them, with their eyes shut and their hearts full, had wished only for this happiness to last.

So the universe smiled and gave them all one last gift.

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#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #lamp/calm #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #lo can write #and we're done babey!!!!!!!#(and your scheduled reminder to please please reblog content)#(I know I'm whiny but you have no idea how important it is)

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diveronarpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, PARKER! You’ve been accepted for the role of LAERTES. Admin Minnie: It’s absolutely not a secret that we’ve been waiting for Lawrence for a long time, and boy did you deliver. Your characterization was distinct, your voice was so clear and your plots — Parker, your plots had me so excited and literally vibrating in my seat to see it all unfold. And trust me, I just came back from a long day of meetings and hours of driving and a flight; it took a lot for me to feel energized this evening. The way you brought Lawrence to life was so vivid and unforgettable in your application, and I have no doubt you’re going to do the same on our dash. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Parker

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | He/him

Activity Level | So here’s the tea, right? I’m a college student who never learned how to set up a schedule that doesn’t suck and am highly involved in student government because I am poor and it pays for my housing and meals. So when it comes to the school year, I’m busy. I’m hella busy, so I’ll probably do replies on the weekends and at ungodly hours in the morning for the vast majority of the year. However, this semester is coming to a close and as long as I survive finals, I’ll have five weeks where I can be on every single day!

Timezone | Mountain Standard Time (MST)

How did you find the rp? | My cousin showed it to me during Thanksgiving, of all the wacky things! She’s big into RP and she knows how much I love Shakespeare, and she thought I’d like this group. I thought I’d try and enter her world and see if I also like RP’ing/actually writing consistently with a set goal in mind.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Laertes - Lawrence Alvise Vernon. I absolutely adore Kendrick Sampson as Lawrence, so no faceclaim changes from me!

What drew you to this character? | So, I have a gut feeling this is going to get pretty long, so please bear with me. I think the first part that attracted me to Lawrence was the character he’s based off of. Hamlet was the first Shakespeare play I read, liked, and understood (though not in that order I don’t think). It was really awesome to see a character from something that had such a huge impact on me and what I want to do with my life still open and available! And Laertes is so important to that original story, even if the tragic Danish boyfriends overshadow him in the general story and in the fandom. The OG story doesn’t function as a tragedy without Laertes and the emotional impact of that last act and a half is only tear-inducing, to me, if Laertes was there. The story just needs him there, you know? One of the reasons I picked him to apply with is because I hoped the same could be said about the story of Diverona and I wanted to play that kind of role in a group filled with characters I think are awesome.

But it isn’t all source material that lead me to pick Lawrence, oh no! Lawrence is, as his bio shows, driven by a near all-consuming need for approval. He’s willing to keep pushing towards and striving for goals that would be completely out of reach if it wasn’t for his absolute, burning need to prove that he is capable of meeting those goals and surpassing them. For Lawrence, he expects that one receives love only if its been earned. He was never told that he was enough on his own merit and so the idea that he, as a person, is worthy has never crossed his mind, which is an absolutely tragedy! However, it’s something I understand and looking at that aspect of his character, I felt I’d be able to do it justice because I deal with a very similar thing far too often for it to be healthy.

However, there was one part of the bio that convinced be Lawrence was the character I had to try and get into this group with. Lawrence is a genuinely good person that has had to push that goodness aside to become someone his father prefers and someone his father would give the underboss title too. He isn’t, as you stated, cruel, but he has learned that in order to advance, he has to step on people, he must control every little itsy thing, and he must, above all, be perfect. But! Despite all these lessons, he is still a good egg! A good bean! I really appreciated you all making sure that was evident in his bio and it was really the thing that convinced me to apply for him!

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Plot One - Little Sister, You’re All That I Know: So, we’re starting off with the most important plot of all, said from the perspective of another older brother to a younger sister. From what I can tell, the Vernon siblings are both extraordinarily in love with people, but not because of any other reason than the fact that they’re people. Or, at least, they were, up until Lawrence got so angry at Verona for daring to kill his father that he single-handedly took up the pitchforks and torches to make those responsible for that death pay. In the meantime, he’s managed to completely smother and override his sister’s opinion and free will which is so incredibly not good, even if it is well-intentioned. I want Lawrence to learn to back off, to trust his sister, and to learn that as strong as he is alone, he’s much stronger with his sister at his back. I imagine the jumpstart for this would be Odessa doing something really awesome, maybe even saving Lawrence’s life. By proving in a very direct way that she would be able to look after herself, that would allow Lawrence to begin backing off, to release the reigns of control, and trusting her to take care of herself in a way their father never imagined. Unfortunately, Lawrence is stubborn. He won’t change unless someone else kickstarts that change by being extremely impressive. Which is… Not ideal but it is, however, the only way I see that change happening.

Plot Two - Throw Me in the Delorean and it Never Happened: The thing about anger is that it is all-consuming. The thing about vengeance is that it is blinding. And the thing is: when you’re running on both and only on both, you are going to make a mistake. Lawrence is so desperate to be perfect that realizing he made a mistake would be devastating. So you know what I want? I want him to make an absolutely disastrous mistake and I want him to kill the wrong person that he was convinced was involved in the plot to kill his father. Think of it as his own blind stabbing through a curtain without checking to see who was on the other side. I want it because there is nothing like realizing your oopsie resulted in the loss of someone that should have seen the next sunrise to shake the foundations of your conviction. It would be perfect as it would show Lawrence he isn’t infallible and he isn’t perfect, no matter how hard he tries to be Personally, I’d love if he makes a go at a Montague and is forced to also check is loyalty and conviction to the family he’s worked with since he was a little boy. This could easily evolve from him keeping an eye on someone and completely misinterpreting what they’ve been up to and acting rashly. I feel like his failure of judgement would leave the Montagues shaken and reeling and it would further destabilize the city, which is frankly a big yes please from me. I also want Lawrence to try and cover his failure up and fail miserably. That’s really just because I feel like it would be a very interesting character study to see how Lawrence deals with trying to hide the evidence of his imperfection and doesn’t have a lot to do with Verona as a city, but alas, I am just a humble writer too focused on the golden boy and recognize that aspect of this may not come to play at all.

Plot Three: The Beauty of a Broken Bust: In the biography, you wrote that “he was put on a pedestal so high that a fall might’ve shattered him”. That foundation he’s on isn’t the sturdiest of things at the moment, considering the person that made that base is now dead. So, I want him to shatter and break apart. I want the pieces that had made him up, the pieces that he has forced to make him up to go flying to who knows where, leaving Lawrence with nothing else to do but to rebuild himself entirely without his father’s influence. This would change his perspective on the war as well as his relationships with nearly every character in this RP. It would also force him to confront the actions and choices he made while trying to become someone his father would be proud of. I truly believe this is something he must eventually go through because the person he is trying to be for a dead man isn’t sustainable nor is it healthy! Something has got to change and that something is code for Lawrence. I can see this happening because of the death of his sister, a very personal betrayal from inside the Montague family, or from the plot I mentioned directly above. If Lawrence stays the way he is, however, he’s going to burn himself out before he can give the Vernon name any sort of justice and he has to accept that. The issue with this plot is that he’s so stubborn and this happening would require a push so strong I’m not entirely sure I want to see it. (That’s a lie, I absolutely do want to see it, but my internal dramatics insisted that I state it that way.)

Plot Four - Now Would You Kindly: Now, I know y’all said three plots and I hear you, but I have more ideas and I want to share them! The first of these extra ideas is that it is a truth universally acknowledged by Montagues, Capulets, and Vernons alike that Alvise was not a good man. Lawrence knows this, Roman knows this, the pigeons that litter the city know this. I want evidence of his wrongdoings to come swinging back and to slap Lawrence so hard that he’s forced to question if the footsteps of his father are ones worth following. Maybe it’s in the form of letters of blackmail or an investigation into how many innocent people he helped kill, but I want it to happen and I want the evidence to be so overwhelming it almost drowns Lawrence. He’s spent a very long time pushing down what he wants to be for what his father wants him to be and I want Lawrence to question if it’s really been worth it, if that kind of person has been worth the outrageous effort he’s put in to make it happen. And maybe that person isn’t someone Odessa wants to be related to, which is something I think would absolutely impact Lawrence’s decision. She is his last living blood relative, after all.

Plot Five - I’m the King of the Castle: In Lawrence’s mind, I have no doubt that he believes he should be the Montague underboss now that he is back in town. He has, after all, fought for it, cried for it, and killed for it. However! He is not the underboss and that has no doubt rubbed him the wrong way. So, I want him, in his crusade to avenge his father, to also do his best to prove how perfect he is for the underboss role. I want him to leap into impossible jobs and to push down his morals yet again and brush on a mask of cruelty because he wants it, he deserves it, and it his in his name and therefore his legacy that he has the blasted title of underboss! He needs to fight for it and I want that fight to be obvious and also just flat-out brutal to observe. I don’t know if I actually want him to get it, if I’m being completely honest. Him having the title also raises some issues about what he did to get there, issues I want to explore, however I feel that such a role would push Lawrence too far in one direction on that vague scale of morality and loyalty he currently exists on and I kinda want him to keep waffling on it for as long as possible. This could change however! Especially with plotting. And I recognize that, so I will say that the core of this plot is his fight for the role of underboss and less about what would happen if he got it.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yeah, I’m ok with that! It would really suck, especially given how the Vernon family has been absolutely just. Destroyed. Uprooted. Left unmoored and drifting in the wind like last week’s laundry. But that same instinct that tells me that killing Lawrence would a) sprinkle in some awesomeness that is the original source material in a very satisfying way and b) would upend Verona even more than its already been, giving and taking motivations from people and maybe driving the rest of the Montague family just absolutely over the deep-end, which I would pay actual, real-life money to see. The slow destruction of the Vernon family is the slow destruction of Verona herself which means there is some drama to be had in Lawrence’s death! And I do love drama.

IN DEPTH

In-Character Interview (I only did two, please let me know if you want more!):

“What has been your biggest mistake thus far?”

Lawrence swallowed, face kept carefully still to give nothing away. Answers sprung to the tip of his tongue, eager to leap forward like hounds released from their kennel, but opening that door would destroy a lot more than just Lawrence’s reputation. Indeed, the perfect tool should not have so many answers to that question, but perhaps, Lawrence mused, his time away had done something to his obedience.

He stalled for time by taking a sip of the drink he had been neglecting in the warm Italian air. It was now unpleasantly lukewarm as the golden heat of the day made its way into the glass but it was better than nothing. It was only as he took a small sip that an answer sprung to mind, one that was both truthful and good for the image he was attempting to maintain.

“I have to say it was leaving the city,” he commented, returning the glass to the table. “I… left for reasons I am proud of, especially because there’s nothing wrong with being educated in this world. But if I had stayed, I could have done something!” Lawrence’s fist hit the table, making the glass and girl across from him jump. The sudden burst of temper was gone as quickly as it had arrived as his hand opened and his shoulders relaxed. “If I had stayed, this all wouldn’t have happened and a great man would still be with us. But I didn’t and now my father is dead.” He shrugged, meeting the girl’s eyes and hoping she wouldn’t see the emotion carried in them. “If I had come back earlier, Verona would be a very different place.”

“What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?”

His jaw clenched so tightly, a particularly attentive listener could hear his teeth protest the treatment. Lawrence’s hand held the chair like it was the only thing keeping him from leaping across the room to punch the smugly smirking man in the nose. “Just because I’ve only recently returned,” he gritted out, “does not mean I have gone turncoat. There is nothing,” he spat out, “nothing in this city more justified or honorable.”

His body eased the tension that it had so rapidly adopted as he noticed the nervous twitches and aborted movements to concealed weapons that had begun filling the room. As he eased, the rest of the room did too. “But you’re wrong,” Lawrence continued quietly, though there was no mistaking the vehmance leaking from his mouth like poison. “This isn’t a war. This is justice long overdue and more than earned. To call it a war is to imply the Montagues are not fully in the right.”

Lawrence took a deep breath, exhaling some of the passion he had been speaking with not long before. “I wish it wasn’t the loss of my fath–” His voice cracked and Lawrence swallowed, once, before continuing. “Alvise that had caused it, but it is only makes this city all that more dangerous for the Capulets. Because now I am back in Verona and I am coming for every single one with Vernon blood on their hands.” Perhaps it was dramatic, but the ice-cold certainty that hung in Lawrence’s voice stole any humor from the proclamation.

In-Character Para Sample:

He was eight years old, holding a pistol in shaking hands barely large enough to operate the thing. A slowly expanding puddle of red licked at his new shoes, staining them from cream to what would, by tomorrow, be an ugly brown. The shoes were what Lawrence focused on, the shoes and their new color. Because if he didn’t, if he looked up, he’d see the man slumped against the wall like a marionette without strings. If he looked up, he’d see the evidence of his actions.

Larger hands took the gun from Lawrence, trying and failing to be gentle. He wasn’t large enough to stop Alvise, though he wouldn’t even if he could. If his father took the gun, he could also take the body and the unbearable weight of its existence. Lawrence knew his father could fix anything, make any problem go away, and so he let the gun go. Maybe his father would fix this too. The two said nothing to each other as large men quietly entered the room, cleaning it, restoring it under the watchful eye of a king of Verona. Lawrence kept his eyes on his shoes.

Before long, Lawrence had been bundled into a car. The gun and body were gone as were his shoes. The next morning, there would be a new pair of shoes, cream and pristine, sitting at the foot of his bed. They stayed there, untouched, until Lawrence outgrew them.

He was thirteen at a new school, all restless energy that danced under his skin because, for the first time in his life, he was allowed to play a sport. He chose football, of course, but the black and white ball came with strings he never anticipated. Fitness was never the problem, it was balancing practice with everything else. Which bruise came from cleats and which came from fists during sparring was never an easy distinction, but as he got better at the sport, he began to look more and more like a poster child for the American Child Services.

It was a lack of sleep that ultimately did him in, made him sloppy. Alvise pulled him aside one Sunday morning before the sun graced the tops of Verona’s rooftops and told him to choose, choose between the sport and his last name. It was presented as a choice freely given, but the look in Alvise’s eyes made it clear it was anything but.

Lawrence quit the football team the next day, despite thinking that if he just kept with it, he could have made the national team. Somewhere, in a shoebox in the back of a closet, are a barely-used pair of cleats.

He was sixteen, armored inside a jacket of patches and studs, the handmade messages stitched to the outside screaming his fury at the world. There was a funeral scheduled that afternoon and Lawrence wasn’t going to be able to make it. The jacket weighed heavy on his back as he cursed Verona and the Montague name for letting his friend, the only one not tied to his father’s world, die because of it anyway.

But Lawrence was needed elsewhere that afternoon, Alvise’s steady gaze still hanging heavy across his back though the man had left some time ago. That coffin was going to go into the ground and with it, the boy affectionately nicknamed “Ray” by the body in that coffin was going to be buried too. The patches that the two had spent so long on, the quiet acts of teenage rebellion and freedom would join the nickname, and Lawrence would once again become the son of Alvise.

No one among the Montague family was going to mourn the dead civilian from two weeks before. No one but Lawrence, and he screamed it from the rooftop. It was only when his throat ached and the fire inside him was less of an inferno that he left the roof and changed into a suit. Alvise needed him elsewhere, and he was never one to disappoint. Lawrence pretends he lost the jacket, even though he knows exactly which trunk it’s collecting dust in.

He was twenty-two when he took the role of captain, the final stepping stone before Alvise’s throne, it seemed. It struck him like a plank of wood across the face when he realized being a Vernon wasn’t enough. His soldiers would listen, and yes, they’d do what he’d ask, but they lacked the respect they gave his father. For the first time, he needed to be more than a Vernon and he rose to the challenge with relish.

He never learned to address them like his father, a man who had perfected the harsh bark that made every muscle in a body snap to immediate attention. That seemed to be a skill reserved exclusively for the man Lawrence knew he needed to become. He never perfected it, but he did learn how to get close enough to command respect and the focus of a room. Then the Vernon name dripped from those around him, praising him for how like his father he was. But that wasn’t enough anymore.

He was twenty-four when he left Verona, determined to outshine his father. It wasn’t enough to just be a Vernon, he had to be better than that. He doesn’t talk about that time with Veronans, the free laughter and the hours spent in a library, writing essays on things he only cared about because they were things to outdo his father. But even as Alvise hung like a ghost over his shoulder, he was still thousands of miles away. His weight that had hung over Lawrence was lifted, and it was only when it was gone he realized it had been there at all.

He would never say it, but his time out of Verona was possibly the happiest times he’d ever had.

He was twenty-eight when Lawrence got the phone call that his father was dead. He is twenty-eight still, but his hands still shake when he fires a gun. He is twenty-eight, and he sneers when someone on the national team fails to score a goal. He is twenty-eight, but anger towards the Montague family still overtakes him at times, clawing at his throat and heart, begging to be released. He is twenty-eight and he has still not learned how to deliver orders like Alvise. He is twenty-eight and despite it all, Lawrence Vernon is his father’s son. He carries a torch alongside his father’s name and even though he is not Alvise, he has never let him down and he has returned to Verona with a bag of clothes and the Vernon name. Wars have been fought with far less and Lawrence has been fighting every day of his life for his father. He just never thought he’d have to fight Verona.There was a time for goodness, but now is the time for success.

Extras:

This app was submitted through Lawrence’s mock blog, so feel free to peruse it!

#accepted #accepted: laertes

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 6 years

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Halloween (2018)

I love occasion movies. By that I mean, I love movies that put me in a speciic mood for a specific occasion - I have to watch Planes, Trains, and Automobiles every Thanksgiving, I have to watch Empire Records on Rex Manning Day, and I HAVE to watch Halloween every Halloween. It’s part of my DNA. Now, when you’ve got an original that’s SO classic and SO perfect, it’s hard not to see the sequels as subpar. Now it’s 2018, and Jamie Lee Curtis (along with David Gordon Green and Danny McBride) are giving us another in a long line of sequels and reboots to the OG slasher film. Is it a trick or a treat? Well...

This may be one of the only decades-later sequels that I’ve ever seen that felt necessary, relevant, and totally, completely worthy of succeeding its predecessor. Right down to the title, the filmmakers got everything right - because this isn’t a sequel. It’s simply the continuation of what was started 40 years ago when Michael Myers came after Laurie Strode and showed her the face of true evil. This is the story of four decades lost.

A basic summary: Laurie (Jamie Lee Curtis) is a grandmother now, and she’s spent her whole life trying to prepare her daughter (Judy Greer), and to the extent she was allowed, her granddaughter (Andi Matichak) to face off against the evils of the world like a crazy bushman survivalist type. Meanwhile, two investigative journalists are doing a podcast series about the Michael Myers killings from the 70s and are trying to get both Michael and Laurie to talk to them before Michael is transferred to a much more restrictive facility where he’ll essentially rot in a windowless room forever. Michael’s not real chatty, though; he’s got bigger plans. Namely, escaping from the prison bus during the transfer. You know, the transfer that took place the day before Halloween right outside Haddonfield. (I know you’re probably understaffed, guys, but c’mon. A little bit of forethought.) October 31st rolls around and Michael’s back in his old stomping grounds, wanting to take another crack at Laurie...but this time, she’s had 40 years to prepare, and she’s not going down without a fight.

Some thoughts:

I’m so, SO glad they didn’t mess with John Carpenter’s iconic, perfect score. Not just the main theme, but the weird little auditory cues that Michael is near, or lurking behind that house are still present and ramp up the fear in an almost Pavlovian way.

What struck me most is that Laurie’s trauma has become generational trauma, shaping the lives of her daughter and her granddaughter because of Michael’s abuse.

These investigative journalists are trying to get Laurie to talk to Michael because it makes for juicy podcasting, but pitch it in the guise of “You can say all the things you want to say to him and finally move on, and let go of this anger. We’re trying to help you” and ooh, that just burned me up inside. It’s so typical for people to play the benevolent savior card of “We can help you confront your abuser, you’ll feel so much better” because it makes for a better story. It makes it easier to sympathize with victims if you know they fought back, right?

Judy Greer finally gets used to the best of her abilities as an actress, and I hope this means they no longer relegate her to the wacky best friend role in romantic comedies, because I was very impressed with her here. Her “Gotcha” moment alone elicited an actual round of applause in my theater.

Nice to know that Michael has a code and doesn’t kill kids. It’s the little things, you know?

The three women - Laurie, her daughter Karen, and her granddaughter Allyson - are the emotional core of the film, and their relationship is placed front and center. I found it fascinating that all the men in their lives are basically the worst, or useless. Allyson’s boyfriend gets drunk and kisses another girl in front of her, then gaslights her about it and destroys her phone. Karen’s husband makes jokes that make people uncomfortable and doesn’t stop even when Karen repeatedly asks him to. The investigative journalist (Jefferson Hall) wants to profit off Laurie’s pain and trauma in the guise of helping her. Let me be clear - none of these are the equivalent of stalking and killing innocent people with a butcher knife like Michael does. But. These actions exist on a spectrum of violence, particularly against women, and the normalization of these behaviors is the real Boogeyman. And much like Michael Myers, it’s a Boogeyman that’s damn hard to get rid of.

I cannot believe so many people leave their doors unlocked when they’re inside. People are unpredictable! You don’t know what they’ll do! ESPECIALLY on Halloween night, you guys. You have to lock all that shit down!

Also does no one own dogs?? I mean, I’m glad no dogs were hurt in this movie. But people love dogs. There would be at least 1 pit bull mix losing his damn mind as Michael walked by.

The homages to the original are everywhere, but are not glaringly obvious, which leads to a much more cohesive relationship between the two movies. As I said, it feels like a natural continuation. My favorites were probably the sheet ghost, Laurie’s disappearance from the lawn, and Laurie’s appearance outside Allyson’s high school.

OK so at one point, we see some people Michael killed and they’re heads have been turned into makeshift jack-o-lanterns. That’s some spooky stuff! But like. That means Michael was able to scoop out the inside of a person’s skull and put some sort of candle in there so it glowed through their mouth and eye holes. But the heads were on their side, and weren’t really flickering so I’m thinking an actual candle is ruled out - it would get snuffed out from the blood alone, the flame just wouldn’t be able to handle it. What I’m saying to you is that on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, the only possible explanation for Michael’s arts and craft project is that he carries high-powered battery-operated flameless candles with him at all times.

I want to make it clear that this movie is actually pretty damn scary, though. Michael’s relentless stalking has been ramped up for modern sensibilities, and there are some truly terrifying sequences. Laurie’s walk through her darkened house is an extended nightmare that the movie builds to for an hour and a half, and it’s perfect in every way.

I feel like I can’t express enough how much I loved this continuation of the Halloween story. It’s a realistic look at the way trauma shapes peoples’ lives, for good or ill, and the stories we tell ourselves about the world because of that trauma. Jamie Lee Curtis is so exquisite as a woman who has lived under the shadow of this burden for 40 years - she’s tough and competent, but she’s also vulnerable and scared, because she’s not a superhero. She’s just trying to protect her family and make it through October 31st alive. I can’t wait to enjoy a double feature of the original and this entry for all my Halloweens to come.

#118in2018 #halloween #halloween 2018 #halloween review #halloween 2018 review #jamie lee curtis #judy greer #andi matichak #danny mcbride #david gordon green #michael myers #laurie strode #movie reviews #film reviews

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abeautifulblog · 5 years

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hi! thank you again for writing such a lovely fic. what do you think about amanda and val bonding times (have they texted each other, joking about their dads? is amanda in total awe of her?) and/or robert and amanda in general-- i feel like it'd take robert a lot to get to that point because he's definitely doesn't want to fuck it up and he doesn't know how to act around amanda, but he wants to try? have they hung out since thanksgiving, would they? (i really enjoyed that moment w betsy btw)

Thank you! I really enjoy the drunk-with-Betsy-in-the-woods sequence too, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the whole fic. XD

So this turned out to be interesting, because apparently I hadn't fully worked out in my head the evolving dynamic between Robert and Amanda (and Amanda and Val), and in the rambling act of writing this, Robert's position became a lot more clear to me. This is not as well organized as a lot of my meta, because I was figuring it out as I went along.

First off: Amanda and Val (and Naomi) -- my headcanon is that they got some quality time in on Thanksgiving (I talked about how Thanksgiving went here), and the three of them were getting along so well that when it came time for Val and Naomi to head out (they stayed in a hotel in Maple Bay, because of the weather), Amanda went with them, for a sleepover where they all stayed up late chatting and doing girly stuff, and then went shopping with them the next day.

My original idea had been that Val, with her mature & sophisticated fashion sense (that Amanda obviously admires), would take Amanda shopping and help her start building her grown-up/professional wardrobe -- and then I remembered that the day after Thanksgiving is Black Friday, and hell if any casual clothes shopping happens on Black Friday. Shopping on Black Friday is more like observing the results of a sociology experiment, like pacing yourself through a marathon, you must resign yourself to very slow progress and be prepared to face adversity. So it wasn't actually about the shopping, they went out just for the Black Friday Experience, bought maybe one thing for Amanda, and then got coffee and hung out until it was time for lunch with the dads.

Thanksgiving + Black Friday was when their friendship became an actual friendship, that they got to know each other and really hit it off, not just "this is someone I'm going to be running into sometimes because our dads are dating." Obviously Amanda's got a bit of hero-worship for Val going on, and I think Val and Naomi really get a kick out of having a protege to spoil & mentor. Neither of them ever got to have a younger sister, but Amanda is charming and a treasure and I think they would embrace suddenly having one now. So they start sister-bonding even when it’s still a little premature, since Robert-n-Gene are dating and doing well, but not to the level of WE ARE FAMILY yet.

Meanwhile, Robert is... way less comfortable around Amanda than Val is. Val clicks into the "sister" slot for Amanda pretty easily, but Robert doesn't click into the "father" slot -- he knows he's not her dad, not even in the running to become one--

(And indeed, I don't think he ever does. She likes him well enough, and they do grow comfortable with each other eventually, but I don't think he ever steps into a parental role for her -- partly because of his own insecurities, and partly because he just arrived too late on the scene. Gene is her dad, and Robert is her dad's boyfriend, and that's how they stay.)

--so how is he supposed to interact with her? Robert knows how to talk to kids (see: the episode with Ernest), and knows how to talk to fellow adults, but Amanda's at the liminal age between childhood and adulthood, and I think it would be unclear to Robert whether he's supposed to have any sort of authority there, whether he's supposed to be approaching her as a friend, or whether he's supposed to just keep his distance and leave her to Gene.

(The more normy dads like Mat and Hugo (and the rest, I guess, but those are the two that jump out at me) would have a much easier time of it, because (1) they're bringing their own kids, not just themselves, so it's more like a merging of families, putting them on equal footing, rather than being "dad's boyfriend," outnumbered, and (2) they are much more secure in their identity as fathers and would be comfortable stepping into that role for Amanda. They know how to treat their kids with affection and respect, how to be an authority figure while still respecting their kids' autonomy, and it would be easy for them to extend that to Amanda as well. (And I think Amanda would accept them as father figures, if not quite on par with her actual dad.) Robert, on the other hand, never seems to have gotten the hang of dadding, so he doesn't have any of those instincts/habits to fall back on.)

Robert assimilating with Gene and Amanda is also kind of like the problem with mixing friends-groups -- that the way you behave around Person A isn't the way you behave around Person B, so it gets really awkward when you're trying to hang out with both of them at once, because it highlights that gap and makes you feel like you're being insincere, or like you're showing the wrong side to someone. In Robert's case, he's aware that the way he behaves as Gene's boyfriend (taking up 100% of Gene's attention; often overtly sexual; modeling bad behavior, ex: alcohol) is inappropriate around Gene's daughter, but he's not sure what would be appropriate -- what level of PDA is okay, what conversation topics are off-limits, what percentage of Gene's attention he's entitled to. (I expect he errs on the side of fading into the background and letting Amanda have 100% of it, and Gene has to actively work to include him, at least initially.)

And lastly, Robert is very much the outsider coming in to their family, being assimilated into their household and their life; he's the one encroaching on other people's territory, out of his comfort zone and having to do way more adjusting and adapting than Gene and Amanda are. How much space is he allowed/supposed to take up in their home? He spends a lot of time there, but it's not really HIS home -- is it? When does it become his home?

(When he officially moves in, I suppose, which is going to take a while. From Thanksgiving onward he (and Betsy) are virtually living with Gene, he's got clothes in Gene's closet and kibbles in Gene's pantry, but he still keeps his own house and retreats to it sometimes when Gene's busy, or when Robert hits a bad patch and wants to be alone. And Robert's mostly past waiting for the other shoe to drop, he trusts that their relationship is solid, but moving in FOR REALZ, FOR PERMANENT is a big deal, and it takes about a year before he's willing to take that plunge. Not just "Oh hey, we're actually doing this, we're saying that this is going to be our lives FOR EVER AND EVER now," but also cutting off any escape route behind him.)

Gene's on more familiar ground, not only because it's his house and his daughter, but also because he had Alex, he's accustomed to dividing his attention between Amanda and a spouse, of balancing both the role of a father and the role of a lover.

(In fact, that's kind of what he's talking about in the conversation with Craig when he says that he has things he needs to figure out too, before he pursues a relationship with Robert. I have trouble articulating this, but: Gene wants to make sure that he's not thoughtlessly falling back into the same relationship behavior/patterns he's used to. He wants to make sure that he's responding to Robert as Robert, not just picking up the entire template from his previous relationship and dropping it on top of Robert. By "template," I mean everything -- for example, knowing how your partner likes to give and receive attention/affection, how to communicate with them, what roles and responsibilities they want to fill in the relationship, knowing what causes them stress and when to step up your support -- in short, how to treat your partner.

Obviously the template for Gene's relationship with Alex was a very good one, loving and healthy, but it was specifically FOR ALEX, it had evolved over the years to fit ALEX perfectly, it's not necessarily going to be what Robert wants or needs. A new relationship needs a new template -- it needs Gene to pay attention to Robert as an individual and see how he wants to do this thing. And Gene's got a solid model to work from, it just needs tweaking. Robert, for his part, is on such unfamiliar ground in this relationship that he's in no danger of treating Gene like one of his hookups -- until it comes to sex, where he's having a hell of time keeping himself from going onto autopilot.)

Anyway, both Robert and Amanda are trying to get along (because both of them want to make Gene happy), and I kind of regret that I couldn't work in a snapshot of Life At The Woods Household after Thanksgiving, because that's when that process started. She and Robert spent slightly less than a week living under the same roof before she went back to Chicago, and there was a degree of... acclimating on both their parts. (The first time they had interactions that took place in pajamas.) Suddenly Robert's AROUND, in her HOUSE, she'll walk into a room and he's just THERE, sans Gene sometimes, and the polite thing to do is acknowledge each other and exchange some words -- interactions that gradually become less stilted as they get more practice and it becomes less unfamiliar.

It’s going to be a bit jarring for Amanda to be confronted with the visuals of Robert stepping into what is coded in her head as Alex's space -- that is, to turn the corner and find him kissing her Pops. (And it's going to be a while before the knee-jerk, "That's where DAD is supposed to be" reaction fades, despite the fact that she's absolutely rooting for Robert and Gene to be together and happy.)

I suppose what Robert settles into eventually is more like the renegade uncle role -- that he's not exactly an authority figure, but he is someone who's older and been around the block a few times, and can weigh in with genuinely good advice from his own lived experience. (Even if that advice is "don't make this mistake that I did. srsly, it sucks.") Moreover, his life history is very different from Gene's, a lot of it spent fucking up and hanging out in low places, and so there's a lot of perspective he can offer that Gene simply can't. If Amanda finds herself embroiled in something Bad, where she feels like she made a shameful-bad mistake, I can see her actually being more comfortable telling Robert about it than Gene -- that she feels like Robert's more likely to understand (unlike her shining wholesome pops who would NEVER have made such a mistake), that she can get grown-up help without having to disappoint her dad.

(I believe I once saw a Robert/dadsona fic summary where Amanda -- underage drunk at a party and suddenly wanting/needing to get out of there -- calls Robert for a rescue instead of her dad, and I was like, Yes, that is the relationship I see developing between them, that is Robert's niche in their family dynamic.)

Anyway, the last chapter has a pretty long Amanda-POV section of the first Christmas they all spend together, that shows how she and Robert are settling into their places in the new-and-improved Smallwood family. I enjoy it a lot. 👍

#dream daddy

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years

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Survey #152

“if mary was only 14 when she had jesus, what does that make god?”

What’s something you initially disliked, but ended up liking? Uhhh... I'm drawing a blank right now. If you’re interested in having a long term relationship with someone, do you think that waiting a certain amount of time before you first have sex is a good idea? Or does it not matter? I think it's a smart idea. To me personally, sex should be an intimate experience with someone you love, not with someone you don't know deeply. Have you ever discovered something big by looking through someone’s phone, Facebook, email, etc.? No, never snooped on someone. Do you have any financial regrets? Either way, what’s an example of a GOOD financial decision you’ve made? No, I've never really had to make big money decisions. Do you think it’s a good idea for kids’ sports teams to not keep score, or do you think that’s going overboard in trying to show sensitivity? I think you shouldn't keep score. Teach children how to have fun for the sake of fun, not winning. Name a movie that you dislike but everyone else seems to love. Why do you dislike it? Drawing a blank again. *shrugs* Are you good at compromising or are you more of a “my way or the highway” kind of person? I'm pretty nice at compromising, but of course it's going to depend on the case sometimes. Do you know any couples who sleep in separate beds? Do you think that if a couple makes that decision, they will eventually break up/divorce? Yes, because one of them snores loudly. But that doesn't mean they're gonna break up... Have you ever had a horrible boss or teacher? Did you ever confront them about it? No, thankfully. Does it usually take awhile for you to completely come to terms with your emotions after something big happens or do you let it all out right away? It's kinda both. But mostly the former; I deeper understand what I'm feeling then. Is Thanksgiving an important holiday to you? Who did you spend last Thanksgiving with? Honestly no, not really. I should appreciate it more than I do for the sake of its concept. How far into your current (or last) relationship did you start thinking about your future with that person? Probably too early to be considered normal lmao. Are you a believer in “signs” from the universe about things in your life? If you are, can you think of a particular example? No. Name some things that one or both of your parents are really good at or really interested in. Mom is suuuper into surgeries/seeing how the body works, and Dad's good at building shit I guess lmao. If someone told you that you would never achieve something and you ended up doing it, would you have any interest in finding that person and showing them? Tbh yeah lol. I do NOT take people underestimating my abilities kindly. That's one reason the breakup was so bad. What is the most jealousy-induced thing you’ve ever done? Ehhhmmm. I don't think I've done something in hopes of making someone jealous. Ever been kissed under fireworks? No, but #goals. Which of your friends lives closest to you? Colleen. AKA, the only friend whose location I know. Do you like calling or texting better? Don't call me, like ever lol. When was the last time you were extremely disappointed? When I learned Mom and I couldn't go to the P!atD concert. It's been a week or two and I'm still bummed. Do you think its right for straight guys to get their tongue pierced? ....... Does any human being on Earth believe it's wrong?????? Do you talk dirty to people? HUNNY I couldn't even talk dirty in the middle of my ex and I doing shit lmao. Honestly, who was the last person to tell you that they love you? Dad; we talked on the phone a bit. The last thing you heard? I'm listening to "Demons Are A Girl's Best Friend" by Powerwolf on repeat asjfdakjwi I'm addicted. Have you ever been to an animal shelter? Yeah. Does it rain a lot where you live? I wouldn't necessarily say a lot? Afternoon thunderstorms are just about daily in the peak of summer, though. Do you live in the suburbs? No. If you have a dog, does it bark a lot? Ugh, both of them. Slightest noise outside our house or in our driveway, it's over. What are your 3 top favorite movies? The Lion King, Finding Nemo, and then probably The Lion King II. Can you juggle? No. Who was your favorite Disney princess as a child? Ariel. Who are your style icons? Like every serious goth in the world give me money to afford this style. Do you believe in an afterlife? I really do. Will it be wonderful, bad, lonely, peaceful, reunited with our loved ones, who knows, but I believe in something good. What do you fear most about death? The possibility there is no afterlife. I obviously wouldn't exist anymore so wouldn't experience anything, but. I never want my essence to vanish. What is your favorite country? Dunno. Glitter or feathers? I'm a glitter bitch. Have you ever self harmed? Yeah. What is your favorite type of cake? Red velvet. Who was your favorite author as a child? Erin Hunter. Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? Um, everyday???? Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? Yes, if it's too late to nap but too early to sleep. And this one time I had a paranormal experience and I was terrified to. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? Maybe around an hour during a roadtrip? Best field trip experience? 5th grade zoo trip with Dad, my then-best friend, and her mother. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Nothing impressive. What is the worst thunderstorm you’ve experienced? We've had plenty, who knows. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? I've never gone to sleep in class. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Are your parents supportive of you? Yes, Mom especially. Has your mom ever directly told you that she favored your other sibling(s) over you? No. Do your folks still have sex? Does it disgust you? They're divorced so y'know. Do you like dried fruit (e.g. bananas, mangos, plums, etc.)? NO. Can you stand eating the crusts of a slice of sandwich bread? Yes, but it's my least favorite, so I eat it first to get it out of the way. Do you sleep with your window open at night? Hell naw I don't want no Welcome to the Game shit. Do you do your homework at home or in class? Or how about in class the day it’s due? I liked to start it in class if I could, but did the rest at home. When did you last see your parents? I saw Dad a few days back at Ryder's b-day party, and I saw Mom this morning. Does it bother you when people get too obsessed about stupid stuff? I feel like you're coming for me. What is the one fast food restaurant you have NEVER been to? Denny's. Have you ever gotten to see the movie Twilight? Not the whole thing. Nicole got it for Christmas and played it that day, and I stayed out in the living room with the family 'cuz yeah, Christmas. What was your favorite cartoon character as a kid? Courage, probably. Do you live in a house or an apartment? House. Do you live in the city or country? Country. Do you take any prescription drugs? Yeah. What is the one TV show you could watch over and over again? That '70s Show. What is your favorite animal? Meerkats, specifically the Kalahari sub-species. Who were the last 3 males you talked to? Dad, Ryder, and Nick. What was the last alcoholic drink you tried for the first time? Did you like it? White wine and I wanted to die. Have you ever had to claim insurance? What for? No. Can you write in cursive? Yeah, but I've forgotten one or two letters. Not sure I recall the capital "g." Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No. Where do you like to sit in the movie theater? Middle. Do you normally finish one book before starting another? When I read, I did. What is your favorite hot drink? Hot chocolate. Do you wish you had a pool table? Omg so I would love to have like an arcade sorta room with stuff like that, but I doubt it'll happen. Is chest hair a turn-on? I wouldn't call it that for me personally. I prefer none or little, but I'm not gonna find a guy unattractive just for that. Which has been the best year of your life so far? 2017. Full of growth and good memories. Do you have a picture with your middle finger up? No, but admittedly I wanna have one of Sara and me kissing with one for the camera because gay pride to piss off homophobes lol. If your boyfriend or girlfriend smoked pot, would you care? I'd care if it was for non-medicinal use and illegal in the state. When is the last time you attended a church service? Oh jeez. Sometime last year when Colleen was in her super-religious phase. Does it bother you when people respond with one word texts? If I'm making an effort to make conversation, yes. If there's not really anything to respond to, no. If you could have a twin, would you? No. If you had to give up your arms or your legs -which would it be? Legs. I cherish the use of my arms more. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know? If I'll be happy and content. If you had to be sick for the rest of your life would you choose something that kills you quickly & painfully, or bearably but slowly? Yikes, not sure. I guess the latter? I don't want to just abruptly leave my loved ones. Have you ever made out with a member of the same sex? Not yet. :P What is the coolest band name you have ever heard? Definitely some kind of heavy or death metal band. Off the top of my head, I think Cradle of Filth sounds wicked. Who was the last smoker you were around? Did they smoke around you? Dad, and yes. Who do you know that can make you feel better if you’re not feeling happy? Sara and certain YouTubers. Are you more talkative over the Internet? YEAH DEFINITELY. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? Nah. Loved him then, whatever. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Yeah. Where do you wanna go for vacation?  I'd love to go to the pink beaches in the Bahamas ahhhh Do you only wish the best for your ex? Yeah. I kinda even do with Jason, but at the same time, I want that fucker to see he will never find a perfect relationship, as he obviously wants judging from me and the girl he dated after me. So I take that back, I don't think I wish the best for him until he learns his lesson. Do you change your phone background a lot? No. Does a male or female sing the last song you listened to? Male. Can you count in Roman numerals? To a certain height. I don't know what comes after "X"s. Maybe "L?" What’s in your front yard? Grass, a small tree, some small flowers... Have you ever lucid dreamed? Would you like to, or does the thought of being able to control your dreams scare you? No, but it'd be cool to. Would you like the ability to read minds? No. Do you know how to fish? Yes. Did you/are you planning on going to college? I'm going back in January. Have you ever built a snowman? Yeah. We rarely get the kind of snow that packs enough to make one, though. When was the last time you moved to a new house? Over a year ago. Do you know any high school sweethearts? How’s life treating them? My best friend and her husband. They still love each other and have a son now. Which is the scariest ride you have ever been on in a theme park? This ride that took you way too high up into the air then abruptly dropped & it was horrifying ahhhhhh

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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supercitycarnival · 6 years

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SuperCorp Thanksgiving Fluff

Lena sat on her sofa, tumbler in hand. She sipped at the liquor in the glass while absentmindedly staring out the window. She hoped the foggy glaze the alcohol offered would lull her to sleep and Lena would wake up and Thanksgiving day would be over.

Usually, the day was spent neck deep, catching up on paperwork at L Corp. But she wasn’t in charge of L Corp anymore. Her television was tuned to CatCo’s news network, quietly broadcasting the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Lena had thought about spending the day at CatCo, but she didn’t quite have a role there either.

Lena had always felt lost personally, but this was the first time when she had felt so professionally as well.

Taking another swallow, Lena couldn’t stop her mind from floating to Kara, her one constant. Everything in life seemed oddly out of place, but Kara was the one person who seemed to cross over into every area of her life.

Lena glanced down to her phone. Kara had called three times already and it wasn’t even noon. Not to mention the two text messages asking if she was okay. Lena hadn’t answered any of them. The second call was when she had broken out the bottle. She knew Kara was only calling to say Happy Thanksgiving. But it wasn’t happy for Lena. It was a reminder of all the things she didn’t have, and she couldn’t take that reminder coming from Kara, the one thing she truly wanted.

Just then, a knock sounded at her door. Confused as to who it took be, and partly not caring, Lena kept her comfy seat on the sofa, waiting for whoever it was to go away. She was lifting her glass to take a drink when another, more forceful, knock came. Now, she was irritated.

“Lena!” An unmistakable voice called from the other side of the door. “Lena, let me in.”

Lena couldn’t stop herself from breathing out a whispered, “Kara.” She quickly scrambled off the sofa, stopping herself when she stood with a groan as the alcohol made her head spin. Rubbing her temples with her fingers, Lena took a deep breath and made her way to the door.

Opening it slowly, she was confronted with a worried, and simultaneously annoyed looking, Kara Danvers.

“You’re not answering your phone,” Kara stated plainly.

“I, uh…” Lena faltered, surprised that Kara would come all the way here simply because she wasn’t answering her phone.

“Are you okay?”

Closing her eyes with a small shake of her head, Lena tried to think of how to answer the question. “Yeah, um, yeah, I’m fine.”

Without pause, Kara replied, “No, you’re not.”

Lena relented with a roll of her eyes. “Fine, I’m not okay. I hate Thanksgiving, alright?”

She walked away from the door, leaving it open if Kara wanted to come in. Lena went back to the coffee table and snatched up her glass. She walked over the window, looking out, clutching the glass to her chest, though not drinking.

A moment later, a gentle hand clasped her shoulder. Kara came to stand beside her. Lena’s eyes slipped closed as Kara rested her head against Lena’s temple. When her eyes opened, she caught sight of their reflection in the glass of the window. The concern on Kara’s face was evident and it melted Lena’s heart. Her resolve to hold Kara at arm’s length faded.

“My family never celebrated Thanksgiving, said it was a waste of time,” Lena confessed. Kara lifted her head to look at Lena, attentive. “I just… I guess holidays like this, that are all about family and being together, make me remember that I don’t have any of that.”

After a moment, Kara bumped Lena with her shoulder. “If you would have answered your phone, maybe this Thanksgiving wouldn’t have made you feel like that.”

Lena met Kara’s gaze, comforted by Kara’s soft smile. “What do you mean?”

Curling her fingers around Lena’s forearm, Kara’s smile brightened. “I was calling to see if you wanted to come over and spend Thanksgiving with us.”

Lips parting with stunned silence, Lena stared at Kara. No one had ever extended such a precious offer. She suddenly felt like a fool for allowing her self pity to almost make her miss the chance.

“I…” Lena’s brow furrowed, trying to think of a response.

Kara chuckled. “You can’t say no.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t,” Kara assured. “It’s just me, Alex, and Eliza. You’ve never met Eliza and,” Kara paused and her light tone turned slightly serious. “Well, I’d like you to get to know her, and… well, I’d like her to get to know you too.”

There was something behind the words, some sort of hidden purpose. Lena’s heart fluttered at the hope that Kara’s invitation was sparked by the same feelings that Lena was constantly sparring with herself. She couldn’t shake her attraction to Kara. The idea that Kara might feel the same attraction was like gentle rain falling on her parched soul.

“I’d like that a lot,” Lena finally replied.

The happy grin returned to her companion’s face. “Great!” Kara exclaimed. “Let’s go.”

Lena remembered herself and looked down at her NCU sweatshirt. She ran a hand through her unkept hair. “Can you give me ten minutes?”

“Absolutely,” Kara chirped.

Making her way into her bathroom, Lena quickly rushed through her morning routine, brushing her teeth and hair, and washing her face with water cold enough to ease the disconnected sense of the alcohol. After applying a thin, but complimentary layer of make up, Lena pulled her hair into a loose, but trendy, bun. Rushing around her bedroom, she found something casual, but nice, to wear.

She came back out into the living area to the smell of fresh coffee. Glancing to kitchen, she saw Kara mixing what was sure to be the perfect amount of creamer into a travel mug.

Lena slowly made her way up to Kara, who extended the cup to her. “I thought you could use this.”

“Thank you,” Lena replied, taking the cup. “I could.”

“Ready?” Kara asked, and Lena couldn’t help but think that Kara’s gorgeous smile held some kind of promise in it.

She could only nod her answer. They walked to the door and Kara held her hand out. Lena’s eyes flitted from the offered hand to Kara’s face, surprised. The sparkle in Kara’s deep blue eyes drew Lena and she took her hand, unable to hold back her own smile. Kara adjusted her fingers to intertwine them with Lena’s and they looked at each other, both sensing the shift happening between them.

As they headed out the door together, hand in hand, Lena knew this would be the happiest Thanksgiving she’d ever experienced.

#supercorp #kara x lena #thanksgiving #fluff #fan fiction

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independentartistbuzz · 3 years

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Good News, Good Music 2.0

In this second installment of Good News, Good Music we continue to delight you with all of the positive responses we have received for our partnership with our friends at Cyber PR Music. Without further adieu, we bring you part 2 (hey, that rhymes!)

Please Follow the Spotify Playlist below to hear all of these amazing tracks.

Thanks to all of the artists who shared their music AND their good news.

Matt Charleston | “Painted Roses (On My Sleeve)”

Completed His debut With 55 Upcoming Artists & Producers

Throughout 2020 I worked on and completed my debut album with 55 nationwide upcoming artists and producers. Releases New Year’s Day!

Halvdan Presthus | “By the Seaside”

Used The Lockdown Time Strengthen & Launch A Website

As a Norwegian songwriter I released my first single in 2019, after deciding to make music full time. I started by booking several concerts with my folk-group, before the Epidemic hit. Since then, I have tried to write and record new songs to prepare for a change for the better as a musician. I’m glad to share that I have launched a new website. Believing that working together we can, through hard work,-reach a new creative power to develop new strong human music.

I found these words of wisdom that might inspire some creative people:

“If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours..” - H.D.Thoreau

Will Kreth, Founder MediaGroove Label | “Isolation Compiation - Pt. 1″

Released “Isolation Compilation - Pt. 1” Thanks To A Successful Kickstarter Campaign

My “good news / good music” story is that my indie label (MediaGroove) released a compilation album this year - really against the odds - because there were so many unfinished tracks when we started. In December 2019, my label raised money on Kickstarter for a full album by one of our artists, but when the pandemic and lockdown hit - it was damn impossible to wrangle all the tracks into completion. So, we decided to put out a compilation EP of a handful of different artists instead, with songs that only needed editing, mixing and mastering - not full "construction and renovation." MediaGroove’s “Isolation Compilation - Pt. 1” was released October 23rd. I learned a lot in producing and releasing this EP. For instance, how Spotify doesn’t let you promote / pitch songs from a compilation for advance playlisting! That was an eye-opener and a bit of a rude awakening.

Calvin & The Coal Cars | “Wayward Daughter”

Did A Drive-In Show For 300 Paid Attendees, NPR & Magazine Interview

We are a country/Americana band out in Montana called Calvin and the Coal Cars. Our debut album release show was scheduled for March 21, 2020 and was looking like it was about to sell out at The Pub Station in Billings. However, six days before the show it was postponed indefinitely. Despite the obvious drawbacks, we have kept a bit of our momentum. We immediately scheduled a Facebook Live show that was streamed on a couple other platforms, and because of our quick action we got an interview on NPR (our first on terrestrial radio). We also produced a Drive In show that was a great success. We had nearly 300 paid attendees and hired a production company that was able to project our band on the big screen, with 4 camera operators. That show ended up getting our first magazine interview. We also used the time to record our follow up album, The Greatest Hits Vol II, which we plan to release March 21, 2021. So while times are tough, we’ve managed to keep creating.

Shaka Banton | “WE ARE the Ones”

Wrote & Released A Dedication To Jacob Blake Who Was Shot 7 times In His Back

This song touched me deeply because of all the non equality for some people I dedicated this song to that and Jacob Blake who was shot 7 times in his back, at that point enough is enough, and as an artist I had to say something. I said I want this song to really sink in and touch the hearts of people to wanna make change in the world. I can't lie, producing this song brought a tear to my eyes because I couldn't wait for the message to be heard. We are the ones, the hook came to me super fast I knew right then that the message would have to be heard.Being African in America is not easy you have to go 10x harder then others to be recognized but where there's a will there's a way, a passion that can't be turned off by anyone.

Tiger Scientist & MJ Raven | “When”

Helping People Cope With Anxiety Through Music

Boy was it a year, but I'm thankful for the hard truths it made me confront and the growth that came from that. It also allowed my wife and I to finally begin our long-talked-about music project, an epic 5 EP cycle about coping with anxiety and development in the modern age. The first EP comes out in January and the first single is out now, called "When." It's an epic journey through the mind and learning we can be stronger than our anxiety attacks.

Linc Bradham | “The Darkest of Nights”

An Arabic Linguist Serving In The US Army Is Shifting Military Careers

My audio engineer who is also my good friend and I have been working weekly towards me switching careers as an Arabic linguist in the Army into the Army Band as a production engineer. He and I have been working together musically for years and met by chance at a show here in DC! He mixed and mastered my first EP that came out in September and my single Shine which released on 15 December. Years after meeting, we’re now doing weekly virtual lessons (one of which we finished 5 minutes ago!) so I can learn the production side of things and succeed at the Army Band production engineer audition next year. I’m so grateful to be changing careers to what I’ve always loved and dreamed of doing - music. Since we’re talking about good news, here’s the title track off my EP, The Darkest of Nights. (“Even in the darkest of nights, the smallest of lights, will prevail.”)

Jeremy Weinglass | “The Twelve Days of Christmas”

Played A Senior Center onThanksgiving And Changed A Woman’s Life

On Thanksgiving I was fortunate to have a rare live gig playing piano for the residents at a senior living facility. This has been an especially tough year for these folks since they are not able to have outside family members come visit, all their usual activities are extremely limited and no live music or entertainment since March. I had a fairly small, yet very attentive audience that stayed throughout my entire 2 hour performance where I shared music, stories and gratitude. When it came time to wrap up, I thought I'd conclude with a sentimental Christmas piece (from my album releasing the next day). As I finished, "I'll Be Home for Christmas," a woman approached the piano with tears in her eyes and pulled her mask down and said, "I asked to receive a sign from my husband in heaven that he was here with me right now [pause and sobbing] and THIS was it." She gave a soft smile through her tears and I immediately wept and then she walked away.

Rock Supreme | “Cruise Control”

Released New Music Despite The Pandemic

I did release some new music on 11.27.20, it’s a EP called “Signed Sealed & Delivered” available on all streaming platforms. Be safe out there.

Jon Fuller | “Litany of HeartBreak”

Inked A Distribution Deal That's Focused on International Listeners

On the good news front, I was able to finish and release a fully-animated CGI music video for my track "I.love.you" (the album the song is on came out in 2013, so it was truly a multi-year labor of love!), and I was able to ink a distribution deal that's focused on international listeners, which I'm particularly excited about.

Sherry-Lynn Lee | “Wasted Space in My Heart”

Learned Production, Experimented And Pushed Her Limits - Wants To Help Other Women Do The Same

When we met Ariel in 2017, I didn't know the first thing about production. Fast-forward to today, I can now engineer, produce, mix and master our records. Several of our self-produced songs have been signed to publishers and agents. I've even started producing other artists in addition to George's and my own solo project. Music supervisors and major label producers alike have told me that I'm a talented producer and should seriously consider it as a career path. So I spent most of 2020 learning, experimenting and pushing my limits, all while having a blast doing it.

In "Wasted Space In My Heart", I used office supplies to create the percussion elements and processed them to create a fun indie pop song. I hope that sharing this will inspire more women to get into production and experience the thrill of realizing a musical vision from idea to master.

Doug Fergus | “Wannabe”

Released An Honest & “Goofy” Song - And Got 900 Pandora Streams Per Week

When Covid and the shutdowns and that reality started to kick in...I freaked and I thought, "Even though i'm 'older' , what if I miss my chance at ever achieving some form of success?" I blurted out, "I don't want to be a wannabe anymore!" Then I thought, cool song title!

So I quickly wrote and recorded the song at home and put it out, lack of professionalism be damned!

Then a magical moment: One of my goofiest songs, "Wannabe" got added to several artists playlists on Pandora and I went from a pitiful 5 or 6 streams a week to over 900 a week!!

Danielle Todd | “A Solo for Autumn” & “Crazy”

Wrote A Custom Song For A Frontline Worker

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I was contacted by Desjardins Group and asked to perform a song for somebody in Canada that was going through a rough time because of the pandemic. I was given a girl named Autumn, who was a frontline worker. Her sister contacted Desjardins with the most wonderful message about how hard her sister is working. That night, I wrote this song called "Autumn" and sent it in to Desjardins. Within a few days, Autumn had her very first song written for her and she was brought to tears. It was really nice to help a stranger out during this time.

Night Ride | “D.A.Z.”

Inspired By BLM Collaborated On A Track To Raise Money For Charity

This has indeed been one hell of a year - but the Black Lives Matter movement really impacted me the most. I was straight up experiencing white guilt and felt I had to do something.

I partnered with two of my close friends who are amazing talented artists and we wrote and created a track with 100% of the proceeds going to charity. The track also raised awareness of police brutality - being named after Daz, a family member of one of my friends who passed at the hands of police. A lot of people helped out and gave their time for free to create a music video and to promote the track and we are now raising money for the charities that need it most!

Stay tuned …There’s more Good News Coming!

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