#the fields out near the beach are kind of okay but they’re very far away and also boring

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | epilogue: better than okay

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, smut, fluff. a lot of fluff. SO MUCH FLUFF. but also smut. am i making any sense? is this thing on?

rating: 18+

word count: 1.9K

author’s note: okay, guys.  here is an unplanned, totally out-of-left-field drabble/epilogue for guilty.  i got a few messages from you guys that you’d love to check in on these two after the night in the penthouse. once i saw those messages, it’s like i couldn’t unsee them and i had to write this before i could move on with my life to give mr. min yoongi the guarded treatment he deserves.  

this is fluffy. lots of feelings? it’s interesting because i’ve never alluded to marriage or children or even had my characters “use the L word” in any of my fics. it’s not usually my style, i guess? i like to leave a lot of the feelings implied. BUT in this case, i felt it was appropriate.

i hope you guys like this. i hope it’s a satisfying wrap to the story of these two characters.  i can’t wait to get going on yoongi’s story and hope to have something out on that soon. beta read by the amazing @ladyartemesia​ and @hobi-gif two brains i cannot live without!

thanks to every last one of you who read and message me about these fics.  i wish you knew how genuinely happy that makes me.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03

***********************

The villa is quiet but for the muted whirr of the air conditioning units when you return.  

You walk from room to room, coming up empty each time you open a new door.  It’s only when you walk out back to the deck that you find them.

They’re napping together in the sun, faces shaded by an oversized beach umbrella.  

Dasom is curled securely into her father’s side, lashes moist against cheeks rosy with heat.  One chubby arm draped over his chest, possessive over him even in sleep.  You’ve come to accept that this is the way of things these days -- Dasom is in the throes of an all-consuming daddy phase.  Your little girl seems to have conveniently forgotten which of you did all the hard work of bringing her into the world.  

You stare down into her beautiful, traitorous little face -- tucked into his golden, carved body and your heart does a funny little flip.  

You didn’t know it was possible to love this deeply.

Namjoon stirs when you delicately extract Dasom from his hold, careful not to wake her.  He pouts even before he’s fully awake, mourning the loss of her comforting weight.  It’s only then that his eyes open -- hooded and drowsy -- and the corners of his mouth quirk into a tired smile.  

There’s that funny little flip again.

You put one finger over your lips to silence him and he nods, eyes falling shut one more time.

***********************

You handle Dasom with the kind of care you’d give a live bomb.

You carry her back into the villa slowly, afraid to make a sound and careful to avoid any sudden movements.  It’s a painstaking process but eventually your hard work pays off.  After some very careful footwork she is lying down in the crib, one hand fisted into her favorite blanket.  

The one that smells like daddy, of course.

You stand there and watch the steady rise and fall of her chest for a while.  

It’s a stroke of serendipity that Dasom favors your mother as much as she does.  You never would have imagined she’d share a face as well as a name with the matriarch she’ll never meet.  

Life has such an interesting way of coming full circle sometimes.

*************************

Namjoon is still resting when you make your way back to the deck.

His long, strong body is sprawled out across the massive sun chaise, droplets of water not yet vaporized by the sun clinging to his skin and hair. He looks so young like this -- rested and peaceful and bronzed -- millions of mental miles away from the pressure of his responsibilities in Seoul. 

You’ll never get over how handsome he is.

Never.

You’d come home from your massage today with a very specific goal in mind -- but you take one look at your sleeping husband and hesitate.  These moments really are so few and far between for him.  

You should let him rest. 

You bend down to drop a soft kiss on his cheek before heading back inside.  But as you straighten to leave, his hands come up to grab you.  Strong fingers grip your waist, dragging you down onto the chaise.

Onto him.

“Namjoon,” you whisper a paper-thin protest, lips at his ear.  The rough material of his swim trunks scrapes against your thighs as you straddle him.  “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Why would I do that,” he murmurs, hands stroking down your sides, “when I could be doing this?”

Good question.

He kisses you then, slow and languorous, pressing you into his chest with hands splayed against the small of your back.  You sigh when they slip lower to grip your ass -- to drag you against the cock now stirring to life between his legs.

“You really do need your rest,” you protest as his lips move up the column of your neck.

“Quit bossing me around,” he mutters, nipping at you like a reprimand. “I know exactly what I need.”

His hands stray from the cup of your ass then, slipping under your sundress and just a heartbeat later you feel his smile against your skin.  

He hums his satisfaction at finding you completely bare beneath the thin material. His fingertips glide over the soft skin of your legs, touch feather-light. 

“You were gonna let me sleep, huh?”

“Yes, of course,” you insist, rolling your hips experimentally against the bulge you can now feel throbbing beneath you, straining against his trunks. 

“Liar,” he accuses, the deep timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your back. His hands drop to the hem of your dress and he pulls it over your head in one smooth motion, throwing it aside.

You lean into him, claiming a kiss with one arm wrapped around his neck. Namjoon lets you steer this one, content to let you explore his mouth at your own pace.  Your hands card into his hair and you grind down against him as you taste him, taking his bottom lip between your teeth.  

Microscopic grains of sand tickle your skin as your body slides against his.

There’s no concern for privacy, despite the fact that you’re naked on top of your husband in the outdoors.  This piece of Jeju Island is Namjoon’s, and the armed men who stand guard at the entrance to this compound at his command are tasked with ensuring no one and nothing comes near.  

This is the safest place in the world right now.  

At this villa.  On this chaise.  In his arms.

Namjoon makes an impatient sound from deep in his chest while you rock mindlessly against him.  He slips a hand down to your apex and drags one long finger across your opening.  He groans when he finds you messy for him, thighs slick with sweat and excitement.

“Minx,” he teases, teeth at your neck.  “I’m playing right into your hands.”

“So you are,” you agree as he kisses his way down, mouth open and wet against your breast until he reaches one aching nipple, already at attention.  He rakes his teeth over it and you suck in a sharp breath, jolting at the stimulation.  Then he turns his head to mouth at the other nipple, softer this time.  You jerk again in his hold.

“Sensitive?” he muses, one brow lifted.  

“V-very,” you stammer, pulling back.  “It’s too much.”

Namjoon makes a curious sound under his breath as he pulls you closer.  Your nipples graze against the sun-warm planes of his chest but this time the sensation is bearable, skirting closer to pleasure than pain.  

You tighten your hold around his neck, moaning when he sinks one finger inside of you, thumb closing over your clit at the same time.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Namjoon knows exactly how to touch you, where and for how long.  He can take you apart and put you back together with breathtaking precision now that he knows you -- quite literally -- inside and out. Years of trial and error distilled down to the most masterful strokes, culminating in skill that has you shaking in his arms in no time.

“No, Jagi,” he chides, sensing you’re well on your way to coming undone with his fingers inside of you and his mouth against yours.  “Save this one for me.”

You whine on an exhale when he pulls away from you long enough to shove his swim trunks off his hips.  He takes himself in hand, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches you.  

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.  

You cross your arms over yourself without thinking. Your body has changed so much since Dasom came into the world.  It’s impossible to ignore the new fullness of your breasts, the added roundness in your hips and thighs.

Namjoon tuts under his breath.

“Don’t hide from me,” he admonishes quietly, pulling you back in.  “I just like to look at you sometimes.”  He lifts your hips over his with steady hands, gazing up into your face.  “Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He punctuates that sentiment with his cock, guiding you down and lifting his own hips to meet yours halfway.  You whimper at the perfect fullness you feel when he’s anchored deep, completely sheathed inside of you. 

“Namjoon,” you breathe, rocking impatiently into his deliberate grind.  “God, you feel so good.”

He smiles into the kiss he plants on you; rolling his hips slowly, thrusts careful and unhurried. 

Here there’s no urgent calls waiting, no Seokjin or Yoongi to interrupt -- just you and him melding together against the backdrop of the beach and waves.  He savors this moment -- basks in it -- cock buried deep inside of you, lips plush against yours.

It goes on like that, slow and sweaty and snug, until the release he’d stirred inside of you just a few moments ago threatens again.  You feel it looming, circling when he pulls his knees up and strokes deep against your most sensitive spots.  You pull your mouth away to cry out and his grip on your hips tightens, keeping you from pulling back.

“Come apart for me Jagi,” he groans, thrusts building in intensity,  “Come around me.”

You’ve never been able to deny him a thing -- and certainly not this.  

You stop fighting back against the pleasure, surrendering to the sensation.  You let it wash over you, holding tight to Namjoon for balance as his own release ignites.  He whispers your name over and over as his thrusts become frenzied, thighs straining when he empties himself inside of you.  

You fall onto him then, spent and limp. 

You lie together like that for a while, bodies warm in the sun, the sound of water lapping against the shore lulling you both into relaxation.  Namjoon drops a kiss on your temple, fingers tracing soft lines up and down your spine. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

Your think back to the penthouse and the promise Namjoon made to you at the very beginning. Since then it’s become a shared mantra of sorts, whispered between you both during times of trouble.  

He’d promised you that again when you thought grief would pull you apart at the seams after your mother died. You promised the same to him when his worry and doubts about fatherhood nearly broke him in the months before Dasom’s arrival.  

“Our baby isn’t a baby anymore,” Namjoon laments in a whisper, interrupting your thoughts. “I was watching her today on the beach, walking in the sand. She’s so independent now.  Not much longer and she won’t even need me.”

“Don’t be silly,” you soothe. “She’s always going to need you.”

He hums thoughtfully, chest rumbling beneath you.

“Well, I was thinking -- ” he clears his throat before continuing, “ -- that maybe it’s time for another.”

You tuck your head under his chin, smiling to yourself.  

“Another?” 

“Another baby.”

“That’s a good idea,” you murmur, taking one of his hands in yours.  You guide it down to the swell of your belly, relishing the way he sucks in a deep breath.

“Really?

“Really.”

“Now?”

“Not now now,” you tease. “Now as in about seven months from now.”

Namjoon slips two fingers under your chin to tip your lips towards his.

“That’s good, Jagi,” he exhales, kissing you softly.  “That’s real good.”

He winds his fingers through yours and you stare at your joined hands.

Everything is going to be okay.   

But everything is not okay. 

It’s so much better than that.

*********************

tagging: @taetaewonderland​​ @ppersonna​​ @yeojaa​​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @prettyguardiansailormin​​​​ @barbikatherine​​ @55west81st​​ @laabellaavitaa21​​ @codeinebelle​ @jalexad​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @poohsaidhi​​ @eltrain80​​ @bluewhale52​​​  @krystle1990​​​ @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag​​​ @hauntedlilies​​​ @kjooniesbabygirl​​​ @unicorn5090​​​ @parkjimin-persona​​​  @julia-pacheco-blog​​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​​ @katbonv​​​ @sunkissed725​​​ @yourdaydreamerfan​

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon mafia #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #btscreatorscorner #bangtanarmynet

[fencer-x]

Fencer’s Big Eva Review

Just got done watching the Eva finale, so it’s time to get out thoughts while they’re fresh! Caveat: Eva is difficult to understand for native speakers, and I’m definitely not a native speaker XD I feel like I got maybe half, and got the rough gist of like 10% of the rest, and the remaining was just no friggin’ clue. Would’ve gone better if there’d at least been JP subs, but you’ll have to deal with what I’ve got for now!

It should be obvious, but there’ll be HELLA MAJOR SPOILERS for the final Evangelion movie. Ready? Let’s go.

The movie very helpfully starts off with a ~2 min recap of the movies thus far. This was great because I didn’t have time to rewatch the previous three before going, and while I’ve seen them a few times, it took me a second the recall what had happened at the very end of Q, so I was glad to get a very brief recap.

The actual movie itself opens on...Paris! Or Paris post-Near-Third-Impact (Third Impact?), which is a red and black wasteland. It seems that Wille has been developing these things that look like Entry Plugs that they shove into the ground and restore everything to pre-all-impacts (so like, blue water and everything); couldn’t get HOW it managed that, but they had them and were attempting to restore Paris.

Would have been a walk in the park except for weird Eva-Angel-Machine hybrids that were trying to prevent them from activating the plugs. Lots of fighting happens, with Mari piloting her Eva to give them cover while the Wille staff set everything up. Eventually they manage it, and Euro Nerv is restored.

Then we switch over to right where Q left off: Asuka, Clone!Rei, and a catatonic Shinji wandering around trying to go who knows where. They eventually get picked up by...Touji! Yes, an older Touji now who lives in a commune of survivors, scraping out a semblance of a life in one of the areas protected by the aforementioned plugs (they had another name but I couldn’t get it).

In this community, Touji is the local doctor--and he’s married with a kid! He married Hikari, and they have an infant daughter named Tsubame. 

Now, let’s check in how our main three do when introduced to this relatively normal life they get to enjoy for a few weeks:

Asuka: Still in ‘fight mode’, ready to go at a moment’s notice. How she thinks she’s gonna fight when she has no Eva idk, but for this entire little bit, she’s either naked or in her plugsuit. She stays with Aida Kensuke, who’s kind of the handyman, and is generally just rude af.

Shinji: For 90% of this bit, he’s totally shut off. He’s incredibly fucked up from having JUST watched Kaworu die, essentially because of him, and Asuka has on a DSS choker, and every time he sees it, he collapses and begins vomiting violently. He stays with the Suzuharas at first but is quickly sent to stay with Asuka and Kensuke because they don’t really know how to deal with him. Kensuke manages to get him to open up a little bit, but eventually it’s Rei who gets him started on the path back to being himself. At one point he runs away and ‘lives’ alone for a while in what I think was either the building where he first met Kaworu playing the piano or one that looked a lot like it. He goes out to do odd jobs with Kensuke a lot, and on one occasion he’s taken to an ‘outdoor lab’ where some workers are experimenting with new gardening techniques. It’s here he’s meets...Kaji Ryouji. No, not that Kaji Ryouji. That Kaji DIED. This is the son he had with Misato (named after him).

Rei: Now, let me say I’ve never been super interested in Rei. I didn’t dislike her, like I did Asuka, but I wasn’t really interested in her either. She was just there. Guys.....I LOVED REI IN THIS MOVIE. I would have watched 2.5 hours of the Rei Learns To Be A Human show and been happy for the $20 I paid. Rei spends her time in the commune learning to be an individual. She stays with the Suzuharas and learns what different words mean, like “Good morning” and “Good night” and “Thank you” and “Goodbye”, she gets super close with a bunch of old ladies who essentially adopt her and teach her how to plant turnips and what a bath is, and she becomes her own person. When she first arrives, the Suzuharas think she’s “Ayanami Rei”, but she explains that she isn’t, so they call her “Sokkuri-san” instead (”Miss Spitting Image” essentially), and the old ladies find it amusing at first but then encourage her to choose her own name, and when she can’t think of one, they tell her to have someone choose one for her, so she asks the Uber-Depressed Shinji to choose one. These interactions are what eventually pull him back to himself, but ultimately he’s unable to come up with one, because “Ayanami is Ayanami”. She thanks him for trying anyway, returns his SD player to him..............................and then dissolves into a pile of LCL fluid, as apparently all clones eventually return to LCL. Fantastic, because Shinji didn’t need EVEN MORE TRAUMA.

Somehow, the above doesn’t break Shinji, and he resolves to go back to Wille and face his father I guess?? I’m not entirely clear on why (gotta go read some reports of my own I guess lol). Back on the ship with Misato et al., Shinji isn’t forced to wear a choker but he’s put in a cell with like explosives in it I guess. He starts having visions of Kaworu helping him accept things.

At this point it’s getting close to the climax, and Wille are going after Nerv/Gendo once and for all. During the final fight, Asuka tried to take out Unit 13′s core, and then she’s not managing it, she rips off her eyepatch, and we see that the patch was keeping the 9th angel bound within her eye, so she decides to throw away her humanity and let it take over to destroy Unit 13. Unfortunately, she’s killed in the end--how? She’s approached by a vision of her ‘original’. Yup, Asuka was a clone herself, like Rei, and she turns back into LCL and she and unit 02 are absorbed by Unit 13.

Eventually the fight comes down to Shinji vs. Gendo, who has thrown away his own humanity and bonded with Unit 13 in the hopes of completing the Human Instrumentality Project. He and Shinji go head to head as Shinji summons (???) Unit 01 from inside Unit 13, and there’s a really REALLY WEIRD final fight between the two that involves some weird animation choices. Lots of storyboards and overly CGI’d CGI, and some bits that seem to take them through the different incarnations of the Eva series.

We also get Gendo backstory by the boatload as he and Shinji have an actual goddamn conversation for once. Mari features prominently in Gendo’s flashbacks so she was definitely one of his classmates it seems, who introduced him to Fuyutsuki. I’m still not entirely clear on who she is/was.

However, through this conversation, Shinji gives the people he’s interacted with most closely/been closest with closure I guess? Gendo, Asuka...Kaworu.

So about Kaworu. Their conversation was VERY VERY WEIRD; it’s made clear that Shinji is also now aware of all the different iterations of their meeting. When they talk, it’s set at the beach where they first met in the TV series, and Shinji says he remembers all the times they’ve met before. Shinji mentions that Kaworu reminds him a lot of his father, and then there are some very strange flashbacks (????) of Kaworu’s that I feel like imply he’s to Gendo as Rei is to Yui. At one point, he’s seen talking to Fuyutsuki, trying to decide on a name for himself and settling on ‘Nagisa’ as it means ‘beach’, where the ocean meets the land. Fuyutsuki later addresses Kaworu, who’s sitting in Gendo’s desk, as “Commander Nagisa”. Kaworu reflects to Shinji that he failed so many times to make Shinji happy, but he’s realized now that that’s because he doesn’t know what would make Shinji happy and it was arrogant to think he knew better. He was looking for his own happiness all along.

In the end, after all these goodbyes, Shinji is left with the decision of what to do with, well, reality. He decides, in a conversation with Rei, that he’ll reset everything--create a ‘neon genesis’--to a world without Eva or Angels.

Our last shot is an older Shinji meeting his (presumed??) girlfriend Mari on a train platform. On the opposite platform waiting for their own train are Kaworu, Asuka, and Rei. Shinji and Mari hold hands and run, laughing, from the train station.

NEON GENESIS EVANGELION GOT A HAPPY ENDING. 2021 REALLY BE OUT HERE WILDING.

My final thoughts:

Okay I’ll say it: the fuck with Shinji/Mari endgame? Believe me, it was completely out of left field even in this movie. They just happened to be the only final survivors. Mari flirted a hell of a lot more with ASUKA and was distraught at her death than she did with Shinji. They were a kind of cute couple in the end, but very ????? 

I’m disappointed Shinji wasn’t the one to give Kaworu his happiness in the end, after Kaworu spent so long and so many lives and realities trying to make him happy and failing. I’m choosing to believe, since these multiple realities/resets are canon now, that he did it in one of them. They all deserve the happiness of their choosing, not just Shinji’s, and Kaworu showed us time and time again that his happiness definitively involves being with Shinji.

I’m sure I missed a lot, because yanno, Eva, and it was long enough as is, but gosh I wish I could’ve understood more of everything that was going on, cause there was SO MUCH WEIRD SHIT.

If I watch this movie again, I will 500% just be watching those “Rei learns to be human with the help of a bunch of old cackling biddies” bits :> Those were THE BEST PARTS OF THE MOVIE.

#neon genesis evangelion #spoilers #review

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 27

Apples and the Doctor’s Office

Summary: After the first day of the Apple Blossom Festival and Drake’s birthday, Riley, Liam, and the kids visit a doctor

Word Count: ~4.8k

Warnings: mention of character death, mention of addiction/drug abuse

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

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I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Eleanor - 

Mama woke us up extra early the morning after the beach party. While she helped bring my stuff to the car that was waiting outside, I decided to go back onto the bed and take a nap until it was time to actually leave. But when I opened my eyes, I was already in the car, my head on Mama’s leg. 

Mama and Daddyo were sitting next to each other and talking quietly while Gabe was sleeping on the other seat. I looked out the window to find that we were driving by large fields. There were trees surrounding little farms, and I saw animals that looked like sheep or goats, but I couldn’t tell from the distance. 

We eventually reach a large house and Daddyo wakes up Gabe to eat breakfast. When we walk into the kitchen there are already waffles, omelets, and fruits waiting for us. During the meal, Daddyo tells Mama that he’s worried about some investigation but Gabe and me are too focused on eating to pay attention.

After that, Daddyo asks us what we want to do today, and Gabe suggests soccer. I didn’t really want to play, but I still follow the two of them outside. 

While we walk through the large house, there are people working and cleaning like crazy. I ask Daddyo why they’re doing that, and he tells me it’s because the court is going to show up in a few hours.

Daddyo leads us far away from the building and towards a bunch of apple trees. I skip alongside him, humming whatever tune came into my head. Him and Gabe find four sticks and push them into the ground. Another person walks out of the house with a soccer ball, and Daddyo gives it to me to start out the game. 

I kick it, trying to get it back towards him, but the ball goes to Gabe instead, who kicks it into the goal and gets a point. He goes to get the ball and gives it back to me. When I try and kick it towards the goal to get myself a point, I kick it in the wrong direction again and it ends up at Daddyo’s feet, who manages to kick it into the goal to get us a point. 

The three of us play around for a few hours until some servants come out and tell us that the court has started to arrive, and Daddyo told us we needed to go get ready for the Apple Blossom Festival.

Mama helped us get dressed, but Daddyo had to leave to get ready for something. I was upset since I wanted to spend more time with him, but Gabe said that we would probably see him later. 

After everyone is dressed, Mama, Gabe, and me walk back over towards the apple trees with Duchess Olivia and Countess Hana. I ask Mama if Uncle Boris and Aunt Rowan would come, too. She tells me that Aunt Rowan is with Lord Maxwell, and comments that she hasn’t seen Uncle Boris since the horse race. 

We keep walking until we reach a small area where there aren’t that many trees, but a lot of people were gathered. There were photographers and people who I recognized from other events. I see Daddyo walk towards the front of the crowd, with Bastien and some other guards walking behind him. 

He faces the crowd and asks for everyone’s attention. I notice Heather out of the corner of my eye and walk up to her. Uncle Leo gives me a high-five when he sees me and Hunter walks towards my brother.

“Welcome to the annual Apple Blossom Festival!” he calls out. People clap lightly, and I see Lord Maxwell start cheering. “Traditionally, the Queen Mother and other ladies of the court would taste the first apples of the season, so in her memory, I propose we all take a bite.” 

There are some nods, and servants begin passing out apples to the adults. When a servant gives an apple to Uncle Leo and Aunt Katie, Uncle Leo takes both apples to give to Hunter and Heather. The same servant gives Gabe and me apples, and someone shoves a camera into my face.

“Go on, kiddos,” the person behind the camera says to me and Gabe. “Take a bite of the apple.” 

I look at the fruit in my hand, which is probably one of the brightest and reddest apples I’ve ever seen. Gabe takes a bite of his apple, but before he can even start chewing, he starts coughing again. The cameraman angles his camera away and asks Gabe if he’s okay. 

“Yeah, sorry if I coughed on your camera,” Gabe says. 

“That’s fine,” the man says. “Were you choking?” 

“No, my chest just started hurting.” 

“Gotcha. Wanna take another bite?” The cameraman looks over at me, and I take a large bite of my apple. 

It’s sweet and sour at the same time. I hate sour things, and I feel like my cheeks are burning. I force myself to swallow the apple and smile at the cameraman, because spitting it out would probably look gross. “Yummy!” I manage to say.

“Adorable!” the man says, then turns to take a picture of Gabe, who smiles while chewing. 

“That was delicious,” Gabe comments. The cameraman thanks us and walks away. 

“That was sour,” Hunter says, wiping some juice off his chin.

My brother shrugs. “I like sour foods.” 

Gabe finishes his apple and asks for another one. When the rest of the court has also eaten at least one apple, Daddyo asks for everyone’s attention again. 

“As everyone has taken a bite of their apples,” he begins. “I would like to thank our farmers, ones whose families have provided for Cordonia for generations.” He clears his throat, then starts talking again. “There is something else I wish to speak about. I know that recently Cordonia has faced many challenges. There have been natural disasters, economic recessions, international disagreements, and uprisings by anti-monarchist organizations. But Cordonia and her people have always been resilient. We’ve always stood together in unity. 

“Some of you I’ve known since my early childhood,” he continues, “and you’ve held my trust above all others. But this is a very unique issue we are facing, and Cordonia has learned from experience that her allies are not always who they are said to be. 

“My security team has reason to believe that the late Queen Mother did not die of a heart attack, but was actually poisoned, just as my own mother was more than thirty years ago.” People in the crowd gasp and begin whispering with each other. “Investigations are being led, but my team has suggested furthering those investigations by searching the belongings of certain members of the court. Do not fret, your privacy will be respected and if need be, the search may be done while you are present.”

The crowd of photographers and reporters start yelling questions towards Daddyo, and Uncle Leo leads us all back towards Mama and Duchess Olivia. 

“Did you know Regina was poisoned?” Uncle Leo asks. 

“Yes,” Duchess Olivia answers him. “Jacob told me what he discovered this morning. I didn’t know if Liam would tell the people, and I’m surprised that he did.”

“He was worried about it this morning,” Mama adds. All the adults turn to look back at Daddyo, who still has microphones being pushed in front of his face.

“I hope he’s doing okay,” Uncle Leo says.

“I’m sure he is.” Duchess Olivia turns back to Uncle Leo when he speaks, and there’s an angry tone in her voice. 

Jessica walks up to the group, pulling Drake behind her. She greets everyone and pinches Gabe’s cheek. Drake starts talking with Uncle Leo, and Jessica turns to Mama. 

“I wanted to ask if you would join Drake and I for dinner tonight,” she says. “I made a reservation at a restaurant for his birthday. It would be lovely if you all attended.” 

“That’d be nice,” Mama says. “We could all go.”

“No, thank—” Duchess Olivia begins, but Mama gives her a look, and instead says, “Fine.” 

“I’ll go fill in Hana and everyone else,” Mama says, walking away. 

“Hey, do you wanna go pick some apples?” Heather taps my shoulder to ask. 

I search the crowd for Daddyo, but can’t see him anymore. I tell Heather sure, and our brothers follow us towards some trees. 

Hunter and Gabe are the ones who want to climb up, and Heather and me are left near some baskets. Gabe tells us to catch the apples they throw down at us and to count them. 

For a second I think it’s not a good idea, since I don’t think I’ll be able to catch the apples and am a little scared that I would drop them, but Gabe already sends one down and I throw myself at it. 

I catch it, but land face-forward in the grass. Gabe calls to me from the top of the tree, saying that I had to get up. 

Heather and I continue to catch apples until our baskets are full. I had lost count around twelve, but Heather counts my basket, too, and says that the four of us collected about fifty apples altogether. 

Hunter frowns, complaining that we could have done better. Heather looks around for where we have to bring the baskets. And Gabe reaches down to eat another apple. 

I see Aunt Katie call for Hunter and Heather. The two of them walk away from us, and we wave goodbye to them. Gabe and I start walking away to go look for where Mama is, but Hunter and Heather call to us again to say that we’re all going somewhere together. 

Gabe and I are led in a car that has Lord Maxwell, Aunt Rowan, Duke Bertrand, Duchess Savannah, and Bartie. They tell us that everyone is headed to the same place, and that we would be celebrating Drake’s birthday. 

“I wonder what Jessica has planned,” Maxwell wonders aloud. 

“Probably cake?” Gabe asks. 

“Naturally,” Maxwell replies. “But do you think there’s a chance she didn’t get balloons?” 

“We can bring some!” I suggest. “In case Jessica forgot.” 

“I like the way you think, baby blossom,” Maxwell says. 

He crawls over towards the driver and asks him to bring us to a place we could get balloons. Duke Bertrand tries to stop Maxwell, but he refuses to sit down and the driver has already parked in front of a store. 

Me and my brother follow Maxwell into the store, who goes straight to the counter. 

“Do you have balloons?” he asks. There are balloon designs on display right on top of our heads, and I pull Maxwell’s sleeve and point at them. “Hmmm...” he stares at them for a while, then turns back to the person at the counter. “Do you maybe have a balloon that’s shaped like a whiskey bottle?” 

“No, but I got champagne ones,” the old man says. 

“Good enough, we’ll take ten,” Maxwell requests. 

“Ten?” my brother and me ask in union.

“Do you think we should get more?” he turns to us and asks. “What if we get forty and say ‘Happy Fortieth Birthday’? He’s not forty yet but it would be funny.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Gabe starts. “If Lady Jessica already got balloons, then bringing forty more would seem like a little too much.”

Maxwell sighs. “Fine.” 

“Gabe is now the bossy blossom,” I point at my brother to announce. 

“What? No—” he tries to protest.

“Are you gonna tell me not to call you bossy?” I question, crossing my arms in front of me.

“That would make you extra bossy,” Maxwell states. 

“But—” he tries again.

“Stop being bossy, bossy blossom!” I cry. 

Gabe turns away from me. Maxwell pats him on the head and says, “It’s okay, bossy blossom.” 

Maxwell and I laugh while Gabe stares at the balloons. 

We all hold three balloons, and Maxwell holds an extra one. When we get back into the car, Duchess Savannah and Aunt Rowan laugh, and I can tell that Duke Bertrand is upset, but he doesn’t say anything.

For the rest of the ride we punch the balloons at each other until we have to get out of the car. Aunt Rowan ties some balloons to my wrists because she was worried they would fly away. 

When we enter, there’s a guy in a fancy suit who greets us. 

“This is not the kind of establishment you bring childish balloons into,” Duke Bertrand whispers loudly to Maxwell.

The three of us ignore him and follow the fancy man through the restaurant until we reach a very big table. Everyone else is already seated, including Uncle Leo, Aunt Katie, Hunter, and Heather. 

Except for the ones me, Gabe, and Maxwell hold, there are no balloons in the room. And there aren’t any decorations either. 

“Happy Birthday, Drake!” Maxwell cries, walking over to where Drake was sitting. 

“Tie ‘em to his chair,” Uncle Leo comments, pointing at the balloons. 

While Maxwell works the knot of the balloon tied to my wrist, Drake grabs the string and pulls it close to his face. “You know these are champagne bottles, right?” 

“Imagine that it’s whiskey,” Maxwell tells him. 

I follow Gabe towards a few seats. I got to sit on Mama’s right, while Gabe was on Daddyo’s left, with the both of them in between us. Thankfully Heather was next to me. Gabe feels far from us, and when he tries to say something to me, I couldn’t really hear him. I wave at him to exaggerate the distance.

The adults talk steadily throughout the meal. Mama and Daddyo were sitting close to each other, mostly whispering. Countess Hana was talking with Maxwell and Aunt Rowan. Duke Bertrand laughed with Uncle Leo, and sometimes I saw Daddyo send looks in their direction.

As time went on I got more and more tired, and I wanted to ask Mama when they would finally cut the cake, but then Drake and Jessica stand to thank everyone for coming, and we all head outside.

“No cake?” I whisper at Gabe when we take a seat in Daddyo’s limo. 

He shrugs. Mama and Drake join us in the car, and I wonder where Jessica is. I spend the drive back looking out at the streets we passed. 

“Do you think they’re already done with the search?” Drake asks. 

“Perhaps,” Daddyo answers. “I don’t believe it should have taken the entire day, especially if no one resisted.”

“Do you really think it could have been someone from the court?” asks Mama.

Daddyo shrugs. “I’m not sure. I certainly hope not.” 

When we get out of the car, we see Lord Maxwell and everyone else walking into the big house. They wave at us, and we begin to follow, but someone walks up to Daddyo. 

“Your Majesty,” the man says. “There is something you need to see.” 

The five of us follow the man up the stairs and down dark hallways. I don’t even hear people talking, and the big house suddenly feels spooky. 

The man leads us into Gabe’s room, where there’s Bastien and some other people in similar suits. Bastien stands over Gabe’s open suitcase, and he looks down at something on his bed. 

“What is it?” Mama asks. She rushes forward to lean over the thing that Bastien was looking at, then gasps. 

Drake and Daddyo follow Mama, and their faces frown when they inspect the object.

“I...” Mama tries to speak. “I saw this at the Met. Before the bomb went off.” 

Gabriel and I look at each other, confused. 

“What on Earth was it doing in Gabriel’s belongings?” Daddyo questions Bastien.

“I don’t know. We didn’t even know this was the prince’s room,” Bastien tells everyone. “My team believed it was the room of another Lord or Lady, so we decided to inspect it. We only realized it was His Highness’ room after we had already found the painting.”

What painting are they talking about? I turn to look at Gabriel, but his chin starts to shake. All the adults are still questioning each other, and since they aren’t really paying attention to me, I make my way over to the edge of Gabe’s bed to look at what the problem was.

It was a painting of a bunch of dancers. They were wearing bright-pink pointe shoes, and I figured they were ballerinas. The whole thing looks like it was recently painted, but I tap the painted flower in the painted girl’s hair, and my finger comes away dry.

“What’s the commotion?” Duchess Olivia comes into the room. She towers over me to look at the painting. When she looks back at everyone, she’s just as confused. 

“This painting,” Mama begins to explain, “was in the Met the day of the bombing. The Dance Class. There was ash on it, and... look, they’ve painted over it to make it look new.” Mama points to certain places on the portrait.

“Weren’t the missing paintings around Europe connected to the incident at the Met?” Drake asks.

“They were,” Duchess Olivia speaks up. “And there was some evidence that the perpetrators were from Europe, but nothing came of it.” 

“So that means it is someone at court,” Drake states.

“I’m still concerned as to how the painting got into Gabriel’s room,” Daddyo states.

“Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Gabe goes to our mother. Tears are falling down his face and he’s having a hard time breathing. 

Mama holds his head in her hands. “Baby, I know you didn’t.”

She holds Gabriel while he cries. Duchess Olivia and Bastien continue their conversation. 

“Everyone whose belongings were searched showed no suspicious behavior or resisted in any capacity,” Bastien tells us. 

“Give me the names of whose rooms were checked,” Duchess Olivia demands. “I’ll have Jacob look into it.” 

Gabe starts to cough roughly into Mama’s side. He tries to take in a breath, but a cough, vibrating from his chest, forces its way out. Gabriel’s face goes pink, and Daddyo and Bastien kneel in front of him.

“Your Majesty,” Bastien says. “Perhaps the prince should see a doctor.” 

Daddyo’s focused on making sure Gabe can breathe, and once he’s calm and Mama wipes the tears from his face, Daddyo nods at Bastien. 

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you early in the morning, Your Majesty.” 

“C’mon, you two,” Mama says to us. “Let’s get you both to bed.” 

... 

Mama woke us up extra early again, but this time I wasn’t so tired. Her and Daddyo fussed over Gabe while we ate breakfast in a small dining room. 

They brought me to the doctor’s office with them. I didn’t like that I was back in the hospital, but when we were brought to the waiting room, I was glad that I didn’t see any patients or sick people. 

Once a nurse tells us that the doctor will be here in a few moments, Gabe comments, “I ate two whole apples yesterday but we still ended up at the doctor’s.”

Mama laughs. “Really?”

“That’s a lie,” I add in. “He ate three.” 

“The extra apple didn’t save me,” he states.

The doctor arrives and shakes Mama’s and Daddyo’s hands. She says that she wants to bring Gabriel into another room to run some tests and ask some questions. Mama follows Gabe, and Daddyo and me are left in the waiting room. 

“Is Gabe sick?” I ask him after Mama and Gabe have left. 

“I’m sure your brother is fine. There’s nothing to worry about, angel.” 

His phone rings, and I expect him to walk away and answer it, but he stays in his seat and talks. I spend the next few minutes walking around the waiting room, picking up magazines and staring up at the television. I grab three booklets from the stands and hand two of them to Daddyo, who is still on the phone. 

He leans back in his seat and watches me flip through the magazines while talking. When I’ve gone through all of them and sniffed more than twelve perfume samples, he’s finally done with his call. 

“What are we doing tomorrow?” I ask him. I was hoping that we could go to the movies again so we could all spend time together. Even though we had fun yesterday morning, the moments felt too short.

“The fox hunt is tomorrow. We’ll be visiting an ancient village.” 

“We’re gonna hunt?!” I cry.

He gives a deep laugh. “No, no, we’ll just ride horses to get to a village.” 

“Phew,” I voice, making him laugh again. “Wait, I don’t know how to ride a horse! Do you?” 

“Yes. Perhaps after the baking contest today, I can teach you and your brother.”

I wanted to ask him what the baking contest was for, but the doctor finally comes back to tell us that we can come into the room now. 

Gabe is sitting on the examination table, and Mama stands next to him. I take a seat next to the table and Daddyo stands next to the doctor.

“So I’ve taken a physical exam,” the doctor starts explaining, “and a lung function test. We’ve been able to determine that Gabriel has asthma.”

Mama and Daddyo both frown. 

“How?” Mama asks. “He’s not allergic to anything, doesn’t have allergies...”

“Sometimes,” the doctor starts again, “asthma can be triggered in children by cold air, excessive exercise, or air pollutants.” 

“Air pollutants?” Daddyo questions. 

“Like tobacco smoke.” The doctor pretends to hold up a cigarette to her lips. 

“Oh, God,” Mama whispers, putting her face in her hands. 

“What is it?” Daddyo asks. 

Mama lifts her head again. “Theo smoked. A lot. While I was pregnant and during Gabe’s first year. I think he only fully stopped before Ella was born.” 

Daddyo’s mouth falls slightly agape and his eyebrows furrow.

“Well, that explains it,” the doctor states. “I’ll give you some treatment options so it doesn’t get worse, but if it does, make sure to give us a call.” 

Gabriel jumps off of the examination table. We walk together out of the hospital and back into the car. 

No one says anything while we drive back. Mama and Daddyo both seem tense. I want one of them to start talking, but I’m afraid to speak. 

“I thought that Theo would go outside to smoke,” Mama finally says. “I didn’t even consider...” She trails off and puts her head back in her hands. 

“Didn’t consider that you were putting my son in the care of a drug addict?” Daddyo says quickly. We all turn to him. He looks at Mama like he’s angry. I’ve never seen him or heard him like that. I don’t understand why talking about Daddy made him mad.

“What?” 

“Instead of bringing him to me, where I could have kept him safe, you decide to bring my son into the hands of a stranger?” 

“You’re saying that as if I had a choice.”

“You’ve always had a choice, Riley!” 

“Not then, I didn’t—”

“You always did.” Their voices get louder. I think they’ve forgot that we’re still in the car with them. “If you had refused to depart with him, what was the worst that could have happened?” 

Mama’s voice breaks. “I did refuse!”

“Truly? Look where we are now.”

“Do you really think that I left that day with no intention of coming back? I tried for years to convince Theo!” 

Daddyo doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He looks away from Mama, but not at us, until he finally says, “Riley, we were the ones who had to bring you back, and that was when you were on death’s door.” 

“So you’re assuming that I never even tried to come back?”

“Clearly, Riley, you didn’t!” he screams. “You told me that you traveled to Europe numerous times, but not once did you try to contact me.”

“I wasn’t allowed to!” 

“So you voluntarily let that man determine my son’s health and your life?”

They’re both leaning forward in their seats. Mama looks like she’s ready to cry. I can’t tell how Daddyo’s feeling, but the tone of his voice kinda scares me. 

“You’re blaming me for all this, aren’t you?” Mama asks. “He’s still just a kid, his asthma hasn’t gotten into anything worse—”

“And if it did? If it had gotten worse before we realized it? Tell me, Riley, what would have happened then?” 

Mama pauses for a moment. She looks helpless. I want to hug her, but I was still too frightened to move a muscle. 

Daddyo breathes out and leans forward, looking down at his shoes with his elbows on his legs. 

“My father battled lung cancer for the last few years of his life,” he continues. “How do we know if Gabriel’s condition won’t worsen into something similar?”

“We can talk to the doctor about it,” Mama suggests in a small voice.

Daddyo doesn’t say anything. We all fall into silence again. I turn to look at Gabe, who seems like he’s trying to melt back into the seat. Craning my neck, I try to see what’s out the window, wondering how long it would take us to get back to the big house.

I turn to look at Mama. My mother’s face is slightly pink, and there are tears streaming down her face. I get up out of my seat to hug her, wrapping my arms around her waist, but she doesn’t react. 

Daddyo looks at her, but he doesn’t have the same face on from when he usually talked to Mama. He looked mean and angry.

“What about Boris?” Daddyo speaks up. He turns to Mama again, but she just stares at him. “He was with Theodore when he forced you to leave New York?”

“Yes.”

Daddyo sighs and leans back in his seat. “Did he also forbid you from returning to Cordonia?”

“No,” Mama answers simply. 

“So it was just Theodore?” 

Silence again. Daddyo doesn’t look away from Mama. 

“What did he say about me that... inspired you to leave?”

She doesn’t answer him. 

Someone opens the door to the car. I didn’t even realize we had stopped driving. Mama wipes her tears and gets out of the car, rushing into the big house. As soon as Daddyo steps out, some people surround him and start talking to him. His expression changes quickly, and it’s almost like he was never mad. 

Gabe and me get out of the car, and we follow people back towards the apple trees. My brother stays quiet, and I don’t try to talk to him, either. I knew the both of us were thinking about what had just happened. 

When we reach the crowd of people, Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan call us over to them. “Baby blossoms! Come bake some apple pie with us!” 

I ran over to them, hoping that the apple pies would make me feel better. Gabriel still walks slowly. 

“Hey, Gabey,” Aunt Rowan says to him. “Everything okay?” 

He shrugs. “They had a fight...”

“Who?” Lord Maxwell asks, putting down the knife he was using to cut apples. 

“Mama and Daddyo,” I tell them. 

“About what?”

Gabe shrugs again. “The doctor said that I have asthma, and then they started talking about... about Dad.” 

“Aw,” Rowan says. She pulls Gabe into a hug.

“They’re both probably worried,” Maxwell wonders aloud. Him and Rowan give each other a look, but then we go back to making apple pie. 

Lord Maxwell had forgotten to tell the judges that he wanted to be a part of the competition, so our pie was not judged, which meant that we got to eat the entire thing. Countess Hana and Lady Kiara’s pie won, and we cheered them on from the sidelines. 

I didn’t see Daddyo for the rest of the day, and Lord Maxwell told us that he was probably really busy. I wanted to go find him and ask him to teach me how to ride a horse, but I was worried that he was still mad. 

So instead, a little after sunset, Lord Maxwell brought me, Gabe, and Rowan to the stables and taught us about horses for a little bit. I learned how to sit and stay balanced, and was excited for the hunt tomorrow. I just hoped that Mama and Daddyo weren’t still mad at each other.

#the royal romance #choices trr #choices the royal romance #choices trr fanfic #king liam #king liam x mc #trr king liam x mc #trr king liam #liam x mc #trr liam x mc #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr fanfiction #trh fanfic #trh fandom #trh liam #the royal romance fanfic #choices stories you play #the royal heir fanfic

[pokemonswshbutionlyplayedsword]

Oof poor Piers, poor Leon, I'm going to compensate and ask what the gym leaders + the Champion do to relax after a stressfull day if that's alright

Yeah, poor boys, but they’ll be alright. They’ve got the power of younger sibling love.

I love that you asked this. I had so much fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy it.

Milo:

-Soft, cuddly Wooloo make the best stress relievers. A quiet sit in the Wooloo pen will always rinse that frustration away.

-Milo’s home is full of houseplants. He loves each and every one of them, so taking care of them always makes him feel good.

-His favorite thing to do, though, is to go out to his personal garden and use fresh ingredients to cook his friends a pokemon a good meal. Something about food brings everyone together, and fresh ingredients are the best.

Nessa:

-If it’s a nice and sunny day, Nessa loves to head down to the beach to sunbathe. Basking in that warm light is what Hulbury’s all about. A nice swim in the sea is never opposed either.

-If it’s stormy and cold out, Nessa likes a nice warm bath, complete with scented candles, a bath bomb and a face mask. It’s called self care and no, she’s not turning into an ogre Raihan.

-The best way to end a day is curled up on the couch watching TV while her pokemon roam around and play. Snacks and a blanket are required. She watches the other leaders’ matches if they’re on, but she’s not picky about her TV.

Kabu:

-Kabu isn’t one for lazing about and slacking off. He’s a hard worker who would probably go crazy if he stayed on the couch for too long. No, he’d rather train.

-It’s a stress reliever in itself to take his frustration out of his equipment. He’s not a violent person, but it does feel good to take a few hits at a punching bag. His pokemon enjoy training as well, so they all work in the same room, bonding as they get stronger.

-Sometimes, Kabu meditates. He’s got a humidifier and an oil diffuser to make a relaxing space for him to focus on. He always feels refreshed when he’s finished. He says he has to train his mind as much as he does his body.

Bea:

-Like Kabu, Bea would rather blow off steam training than being lazy. You can hardly tell if she’s venting her anger or if she’s training just like any other day. The burn of her muscles the next day is satisfying. That sensation keeps her focused through the day.

-She aspires to be a master of as many martial arts as possible. One way to improve her skills is yoga. She started it as a way to improve her balance, but when she releases the tension of a difficult pose, it feels like she’s releasing her stress as well. People told her it was stress relief, but she never cared about that until now.

-Stow-on-Side is famous for rock climbing. It’s another vigorous exercise to Bea to focus on in her free time. She loves the accomplished feeling of looking down onto the city from her vantage point. There’s also just something so fresh about the air at the top of the stony hills. It’s good for when she needs to get out and spend some quiet time alone.

Allister:

-Allister is still pretty young, and doesn’t yet have effective stress management skills. Whenever someone notices him getting distressed on the field, they pull him out and end the day. Most trainers are pretty understanding. Any trainers who aren’t have to answer to Bea.

-Allister is a cuddle bug. He treasures all of the plushes in his room. They all surround him when he lounges on the floor and watched his favorite cartoons on his TV. When he’s done exceptionally well, he also gets his favorite dessert! His troubles melt away quickly.

-He loves ghost pokemon, but he loves his team the most. They’re never far from him, and that’s comforting to him. No matter what, his pokemon are there to keep him calm and safe. People thought it was unsafe to leave a child alone with a bunch of ghost pokemon, but when they tried to take them away one night, Allister cried until he threw up. Keep them near, please. He needs them.

Melony:

-Melony is a very level headed trainer. She doesn’t often get stressed, but when she does, she tends to leave work at work and home at home. That is, that stress is dropped at the door as soon as she walks in.

-Her kids never stress her out. No matter what they do, she loves them. Spending time with them is one of her favorite things to do. If it’s relatively nice out, she takes them all out for a walk. If not, they stay in and play a board game or watch a movie.

-Cooking is also a vice for her. There’s something so gratifying about turning a pile of raw foods into a delicious meal. Her favorite part, though, is watching her children wolf it down. They tell her every meal that it’s great and they love her cooking. No, there’s nothing that feels as good as being a mother.

Gordie:

-Gordie gets stressed quite easily. He’s very look oriented, so if he feels he doesn’t look his best, it throws off his entire day. It’s pretty easy to tell when he’s having a bad day. His hair is disheveled, his clothes aren’t as neat as usual, and his sunglasses are crooked. This only makes his mood worse.

-Going shopping helps. Picking up new clothes makes him feel cool again. Also, if he goes with friends, they’ll be sure to lift his spirits. He makes good money as a gym leader, so he’s got the cash to buy whatever he wants. His mother warns him not to spend so frivolously though.

-Despite his disputes with his mom, she’s always there to comfort him. If it’s a hug or a warm, home made meal, it’s always a big step to feeling better. They may not be as close as they used to be, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other.

Opal:

-Opal is of the mentality of “I’m old! I’ll do whatever I want!.” She barely gets stressed anymore. However, it does happen. Not usually at battles, though. It’s usually when she has to clean up after a mess in Ballonlea.

-Almost every night, she sits in her big comfy chair, sips a hot cup of tea and watches her favorite soap opera. She lives for the drama, and she doesn’t get out of her town enough to stir up any trouble of her own. She used to when she was younger, though. Oh, she loves to reminisce about her glory days.

-Watching the forest is always calming. It’s humbling. You could get lost in those woods forever and let it claim you. She’s always been careful to respect her forest and all the creatures that live in it. Besides, the glowing mushrooms are just so pretty tonight under the moonlight. She wishes he had someone to share those quiet moments with.

Piers:

-Piers is very busy. He gets stressed pretty easily. He gets his head clear with ration. “At least I’m not as busy as Leon.” He’s prone to anxiety attacks, but those are pretty rare. Usually, he just stops, takes a few deep breaths, and then continues what he’s doing.

-Marnie is his main source of comfort. She’s the closest to him, and she’s always there to help him calm down. She’s a companion for when the stressful day is over and he needs to vent. She’s a great listener, so she always engages and supports. Quiet company is good, too, in case Piers doesn’t feel like talking.

-His main passion and outlet is music. He’s got a couple scrap songs about the things he hates. Those will never be recorded, nor performed. Those are for him, his pokemon, and maybe Marnie if she’s lucky. Sometimes, he’ll head to the empty gym and scream into the microphone as loudly as possible. It’s called venting and no one in Spikemuth is allowed to say anything. One time, though, Raihan called and asked if everything was alright. He heard Piers from Hammerlocke.

Raihan:

-Raihan is stressed pretty often. It’s usually over trying to beat Leon. There’s no cure for this. It’s called obsessive idiot disease. He’s going to have to live with it until he beats Leon. If he ever does, that is.

-His pokemon are his closest companions. He plays with them, and they make sure he’s feeling okay. They know what’s best for him, and if he needs to put the social media down, Flygon will hide his phone somewhere he can’t reach. It makes him angry for a second, but he’s grateful for his companions.

-He loves history. The archives are always quiet. If Raihan has a stressful day, he’ll bounce back twice as strong and with a whole new collection of history facts. “Hey, did you know that Spikemuth was built as a bunker for the Darkest Day?”

Leon:

-Leon doesn’t get to be stressed. He’s got to be perfect. His publicity is everywhere. He can’t even go to the bathroom without being interviewed. At the end of the day, he kind of just collapses on the couch with the TV on until he falls asleep.

-Charizard does his best to keep Leon’s spirits up. The truth is, the Champion loves his position, but it’s just so much work. Leon does blow off some steam by training, but some days he wants to just lounge at home. He does get those times, but not often enough. On those days, no one is allowed to talk to Leon. He’s a social butterfly, but it’s quiet time, now. Today, he’s sleeping until noon.

-Hop. Hop makes everything better for Leon. Seeing his bright smile when training his pokemon is worth the world to the Champion. He loves his brother so much, and even though their bonding time is rare, it’s the best part of Leon’s day every time. He feels bad about not being as close with him as Piers is with Marnie, but Hop always makes sure to let him know that he’s not upset. Leon takes every chance he gets to see his brother.

#pokemon swsh #pokemon milo #pokemon nessa #pokemon kabu #pokemon bea #pokemon allister #pokemon melony #pokemon gordie #pokemon opal #pokemon piers #pokemon raihan #pokemon leon #ask #anon #thank you for the ask!

[callunavulgari]

YEAR-IN-BOOKS | 2020

So. Last year I read 112 books. The year before that I read 89. The year before that I read 39. This year I have (thus far) read 87 books out of my goal of 75 and will likely at least one or two more before the end of the year. So, click below if you want rambly book recs!

1. a book you loved?

This year has been rough. Like, I’m looking back at the books I read in January and am genuinely horrified to realize that I read them a scant twelve months ago when it feels like I read them at least three years ago. I’m glad I kept my limit lower this year, because enjoying anything this year has been harder than usual. I did read some decent books though, and I think the one I loved the most was Gideon the Ninth (and it’s sequel, Harrow the Ninth). They’re both fantastic books, and so deeply unexpected. Reading the first chapter or so of Gideon’s book is like getting whiplash. You go into it expecting angsty lady necromancers and get a crossdressing bee that secretes hallucinogenic substances and pulsates in time to the music in your head. Literally, Gideon’s dialogue is so out of left field that I spent half the book delightedly confused. But it is genuinely funny? And lesbian necromancers in space is just.. such an underutilized concept. Harrow’s book was a little harder - her head space is weird and everything is intentionally fucking with you so you really are confused for 90% of it, but I think the pay off was more than worth it.

2. a book you hated?

I was deeply, DEEPLY disappointed by The Secret Commonwealth. I finished it near the end of January and was just so fucking mad for days. Because the thing is, my expectations were not super high. I was excited for it, mostly because a grown up version of Lyra is something that I thought I would only ever experience in fanfiction. Now, I wish I’d only experienced her in fanfiction. Graphic attempted rape, retroactively confirming a rape happened in a previous book (one where it was implied that the victim got away in time), retroactively raping a character from the previous trilogy... like. I’m sorry. But fuck that noise. Fuck Philip Pullman. Fuck any douchebag asshole who thinks a woman has to be raped in order to write compelling fiction. I was riding the high of the new HBO series (which was good) and I guess I just... thought the author would have some goddamn integrity.

3. a book that made you cry?

We Are Okay was a really gorgeous, tender little book about grief that I read in one sitting in my bed when I really should have been sleeping. I read this book in March, when things only kind of hurt for me. When things were still largely okay. Before the bulk of covid hit my side of the world. Before self-isolation was an every day thing, not just something in books. Before Mal. Before getting covid. But ultimately, this was a book about healing. It aches, yes, but it also soothes.

4. a book that made you happy?

Both Beach Read and Written in the Stars made me pretty happy. Both romcoms done right, the first is a book about a romance writer falling in love with a thriller/mystery writer. They’re staying at neighboring beach houses and spend a summer getting themselves out of their comfort zones by challenging the other to write in the other person’s chosen genre. It’s sweet. It’s sexy. Over all, a really fun read, with enough depths to keep me engaged.

The second book is a meet-cute that involves astrology, fake dating, and lesbians. It’s written phenomenally well, and gave me a brief surge of happiness when I needed it most.

5. the best sequel?

Probably Harrow. The Dragon Republic is a great second choice though. Again, it’s a hard book, and I wouldn’t have been able to read it any later in the year than I did, because it is... not a happy book. But it is, in my opinion, a good one. And I am still excited about the third.

6. most anticipated release for the new year?

I am hoping to get the as of yet Untitled sequel to Ninth House in 2021. I am also hoping to actually be able to read The Rhythms of War in the new year, since I doubt I’ll get a chance in 2020. I’m looking forward to Mister Impossible, the second book in the Ronan trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater. I’m looking forward to the Hourglass Throne, which I think is coming in 2021? A Desolation Called Peace in March. The Thorn of Emberlain might actually be out in October, which will be wonderful it doesn’t get pushed back again. Rule of Wolves, the King of Scars Duology in the Grishaverse will also be March. One Last Stop by Casey McQuistion in May!!!!

7. favorite new author?

Defintely Tamsyn Muir. I will also be keeping an eye out for Alexandriua Bellefleur’s stuff...

8. favorite book to film adaptation?

Uh, can I say MDSZ/The Untamed without actually having read the original text? Well, I’ve read a few chapters, but damn.

9. the most surprising book?

Taproot. It’s this little graphic novel about a gardener who can see ghosts. And like. It still makes me warm to think about how tender it is.

10. the most interesting villain?

Does Loki: Where Mischief Lies count? Since Loki is technically a villain, even if he’s only villain adjacent in this book.

11. the best makeouts?

I... don’t know? I didn’t real read any of these books for makeouts. Not this year. 

12. a book that was super frustrating?

Boyfriend Material. It has great ratings! It has fake dating! But the story was very so-so for me. 

13. a book you texted about, and the text was IN CAPSLOCK?

I think I yelled at Nick a few times about how pissed I was at the Secret Commonwealth.

14. a book for the small children in your life?

The House in the Cerulean Sea is a book about a case worker at the department in charge of magical youth and he is charged with traveling to an island and making a very important decision about the children living there. It was adorable and I wish I’d had a book like it when I was young.

15. a book you learned from?

That is not the sort of book that I was reading in 2020.

16. a book you wouldn’t normally try?

I read a couple mysteries. Some were good. Most made me remember why I don’t read mysteries.

17. a book with something magical in it?

Call Down the Hawk, because all of Maggie’s books are at least a little bit magical. And while this definitely didn’t hit quite the same vibes that the Raven Cycle did, it was still very, very good.

18. the best clothes?

Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth have the best goth aesthetic I have ever seen in a book. Also, The Invisible Life of Addie Larue, because Addie’s clothes always sounded cute and comfortable.

19. the most well-rounded characters?

The City We Became had some fantastic characters. It was really interesting to see Jemisin get out of her typical fantasy setting and this novel was so out of this world. 

20. the best world-building?

Deeplight! It’s described as Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea meets Frankenstein and that is pretty accurate. Old gods that traversed the sea tore each other apart and now the world tries to get a hold of their corpses for amazing powers. It was really, really cool and probably the best book I could have chosen to read at the beach.

21. the worst world-building?

Eh. Most of the books I hated I didn’t keep reading this year.

22. a book with a good sidekick?

I really like all of the characters in the Tarot Sequence. There are some solid characters, even if there’s basically no women. Also Graceling.

23. the most insufferable narrator?

I was not a fan of The Mysterious Benedict Society, mostly because of the narrator. It was so boring and I quit halfway through.

24. a book you were excited to read for months beforehand?

Return of the Thief. Which... was still mostly good. But the ending felt lackluster for me. I may go back and reread the series and see if it feels more genuine after I’ve read them all together.

25. a book you picked up on a whim?

I literally picked up Written in the Stars because the cover was pretty and it looked like the romance was between two girls. And it did nooooot fail me.

26. a book that should be read in a foreign country?

Shrug emoji.

27. a book cassian andor would like?

I still don’t know what to make of this question.

28. a book gina linetti would like?

Shrug emoji.

29. your favorite cover art?

Gideon and Harrow, honestly. I also really liked Under the Udala Trees.

30. a book you read in translation?

I genuinely don’t know.

31. a book from another century?

Teeeeechnically The Great Hunt?

32. a book you reread?

I reread the Diviners and the Captive Prince series near the beginning of the year. They were still delightful.

33. a book you’re dying to talk about, and why?

Into the Drowning Deep was fucking amazing. I love Mira Grant’s work anyway and there’s this scene where a character pilots a submersible into the Marianas Trench and experiences your first face-to-face encounters with the sirens and like. AHHHHHHHHHH. It was so spooky and beautiful and just genuinely amazing.

TLDR; 2020 sucked, most books still couldn’t pierce through the depression, but there were a few bangers.

#heather says what #new year's memes #2020 #books to read #recommendations #fuck yeah recs!!

[dyketectivecomics]

{{ Night Force kids learning each others' backstories! Angsty awkwardness! Everyone Coping Together!

this actually….. isn’t all that angsty i think haha. mostly because as Emo™ as these kids are, they’re also definitely gonna be Supportive of each other. except for zach, bc he’s still got some Things to work out, but they’ll bring him along anyways lmao

…

The scene was becoming oddly familiar to Raven, as she looked around the campfire. Just like with her friends before, so many months ago on that beach, the Night Force was gathered in a secluded section of a California State Park, swapping stories and sharing snacks as the moon began her ascent into the sky. The redwoods stood like sentinels, keeping careful watch on the teen mystics.

Which was probably true in a more literal sense, considering it was Swamp Thing who brought them on this field trip away from the House of Mystery, in the first place. If Raven had learned anything from the Guardian of the Green, it was that he was never more than a whisper away.

He’d left them alone, to set up camp for the night and to start their bonding experience. Which, thus far, mostly meant venting about various frustrations and consuming more s'mores than probably was healthy.

“-That’s why it sucks that I can’t really talk with him about any of this,” Alice sighed, nearing the end of her own, rambling tirade. “Dibny’s been like- I don’t know? Kind of like a dad. And my own dad was, like, okay and everything but-”

“Sometimes dads suck?” Traci smiled knowingly while fixing another marshmallow onto a stick, “You’re preaching to the choir here, sis.” She bumped shoulders with Raven before sticking the treat directly into the flames. “But I think Raven’s got all of us beat by a landslide. Don’t ya, Rae?”

“Dads… suck,” Raven nodded decisively in affirmation, hugging her knees a little closer to her body as a breeze blew through. “But if I have learned anything from the Titans, it is that we can choose not only who we call our friends, but who we call family as well.”

“Yeah, well. Some of us are still trying to figure out how to get out of our oh-so-famous cousin’s shadows, thank you very much,” Zach pouted. Klarion silently offered him a marshmallow for his trouble, only for the teen magician to bat it away. The witch-boy gave him a glare and Teekl pounced on the treat, playing with it as it stickily picked up leaves and dirt. “Just because you’re trying not to let them define you, doesn’t mean that you’re free from it,” he said, rather conclusively as he leaned back onto his hands.

“On that, we may have some agreement, barf boy,” Traci laughed. Her marshmallow was now pitch-black, a perfect s'more in the making. “At least your family can give you, like, actual support with your magic. Having a professional skeptic for a dad? Not so great for my whole magic thing.”

“Alright, I’ve had more than enough of this,” Klarion huffed in annoyance, “Parents suck, we all have our struggles with magic, etcetera, etcetera. Let’s not forget the real reason why we’re here.”

“To bond like ‘normal teenagers’?” Alice guessed.

“To learn something new about nature?” Traci said between a mouthful of s'more.

“To test my patience?” Zach snorted.

“Kind of. Probably. And… no, absolutely not,” the witch-boy shook his head in disappointment, “We’re here to have fun. And our final missing cliche for this camping trip- drum roll please?” He tapped his hands against his lap, waiting for most of them to half-heartedly humor him by joining, before making his announcement. “What we need… are some good ol’ fashioned ghost stories! So, who’s going to start?”

“Ghost stories? What are you? Ten?” Zach snickered before each of the teen mystics began throwing marshmallows at him. “Hey! Cut it out!”

“I elect Moody Marshmallow Man to be the first,” Raven declared, “As penance, for his poor attitude and teamwork skills… Or, something like that.”

“Hear, hear!” “Abso-fucking-lutely!” “That’s perfect!”

The teens laughed as the magician pouted, arguing back that he didn’t have any ghost stories to tell. But his peers would hear nothing of it.

And Raven found herself smiling fondly as she took another glance around that campfire again. Yes, the scene was familiar, and comforting in that familiarity. And knowing how far they’d come in these past three weeks together, had her only wondering just how much further they were going to go.

#rachel roth #zachary zatara #traci thirteen #klarion the witch boy #black alice #lori zechlin #night force #asked and answered #beyondthetemples #randywritesfic #i just love these kids so much #so more HINTING at each of their backstories rather than like. going too much in depth #esp since i wanna do that in like. The Main Series as i build it up #this is absolutely meant to be a canon follow up to daughter of darkness tho #my own nf series is gonna be a soft reboot so like. Prepare for some reimagining of those shadow riders and their purpose n all #some expansion on skye and on klarions hinted reason for joining in the first place #lots of LITTLE things were introduced in that and its a SHAME that we cant have it expanded on in canon #at least not atm #ahhhhhhhhh i hope u like it zira!

[anne-aerwyna]

Anne ~ Chapter 10

Anne’s Travel Journal - Day 3

Good morning, journal! At least I think it's morning. My body clock is telling me that it is, but it's not easy to tell the actual time from inside of a cave. I didn't realize it last night, because it was dark out, but natural light is almost nonexistent in here. The lamps are the only source of light until you reach the Crossing’s entry room. I slept like a rock, which is probably a side effect of sleeping in a cave. Now that I'm refreshed, I'm can be a lot more observant than I was last night. The walls of this room have lots of scratches and smooth patches in it, meaning that it was probably dug out by a burrowing monster instead of created naturally. I paced the room to measure it; it's about 18 paces long and 15 paces wide. The ceiling is domed and the walls gently curve outwards. The floor is entirely flat, but I guess that's because of Mr. and Mrs. Slater and not because of the original inhabitant. In fact, looking closer, the stone patches in the floor are a different color than the stone that makes up the walls and ceiling. Kinda neat. I'm too hungry to spend any more time in here though; I can smell breakfast from through the air slits and I'm hungrier than a Deviljho. I need to consume.

It turns out that Aptonoth is actually very good eating. Breakfast was steaming Aptonoth steak, some delicious Aptonoth cheese, and fresh brown bread with Nulberry jam. The bread reminded me a lot of Ethan and his mom. I hope they're doing okay. I ate with Dawn and the carriage driver, whose name is Adam. Dawn didn't have much to say so I'm guessing she's not much of a morning person. I'm filing that information away in the Operation Roommate Dawn drawer in my head. Adam had enough to say about today's plans, so we never had any awkward silences. Today's agenda looks like this: we get in the carriage, go down the other side of this mountain range, go through a forest, go up and down some hills, and then arrive at Maerinia. How exciting! We're only a hop, a skip, and a jump away from our goals. I wonder if that's how a Tetsucabra feels when it’s fighting a hunter. We're making a calculated jump, but even a calculated jump can turn into a blind leap if you lose sight of the ground. That means that if I keep my eyes on my goal, my leap towards my dreams won't fail!...maybe that analogy is too complicated. I still need to pack all of my things though, so I will write again after I take care of that.

I'm writing from the carriage now. After I got all of my things together there was no time to write, because Adam knocked on my door to tell me that we were leaving. We said goodbye and thank you to Mr. and Mrs. Slater, got in the carriage, and now we're headed down the mountain on a path that looks about identical to the one that we came up yesterday. There's not much to see or write about, so I'll talk to Dawn instead and come back when there's something interesting happening.

We are officially off of the mountain. It was the most boring part of this trip so far... all we saw was gray rocks and gray boulders and gray gravel. Dawn became a little more talkative as the morning went on. We are in a much more familiar area to both of us now - a forest. We're still riding downwards on a slope, but the slope is gradually becoming flatter as we roll along. It's nice to see birds again, after being stuck in those dull mountains for so long. Dawn brightened up too, and I've already learned the names of at least eight different birds since we entered this forest. We also saw a Mosswine and some Kelbi, which brings back memories of home. Luckily I'm way too excited for what's coming to be homesick. As we travel through the forest I'm getting peeks of sparkling blue through the trees - the ocean is close! I'm excited to feel the breeze on my face and smell the sea air. I would ask Dawn how she feels about the ocean but it looks like she's distracted right now... oh, apparently she saw something in the trees that she wants to investigate. What could it be?

We stopped for a second to check it out, but we're back on the trail again. Dawn claimed that she saw a small Flying Wyvern sneaking between the trees, and when we went to the spot where she saw it we found a fresh footprint! The monster was nowhere to be found, but it's still exciting. The only Flying Wyvern I've ever seen in real life is Seph, and I'm looking forward to seeing all the different body types and hunting styles! Nargacuga has a very different body structure compared to most Flying Wyverns, according to Dawn. Nargacuga has a similar build to the Tigrex, and is very different to Rathalos. I've heard stories of the fearsome Tigrex, with its blue and orange coloring and its habit of reckless charging, but I never really tried to imagine what one looks like! I'm trying to imagine a blue and orange Nargacuga right now, and I can't help laughing when I put that image in my head. I told Dawn what I was thinking about and I got her to smile, which is the most you can really get out of her as far as happiness is concerned. It looks like the trees are thinning out. I think we're near coming up to the edge of the forest! I can see a big blue expanse between the gaps in the trees. I'm going to have to stop writing as we leave the forest to take in the v

It was so breath-taking that I lost track of what I was writing. As soon as we got past the tree line, I saw the most beautiful view I've ever seen. The ocean. In all of its sparkling glory, the ocean stretched away as far as my eyes could see. The beach is still kind of far away, but from the top of this first hill we could see everything. Adam says that Maerinia will come into view soon. The last time my heart was beating this fast I was talking to Max and Aac. That city is the beginning of my new life, and Dawn's too! All we have to do is go down this hill, up and down another, enter the city, and then the next chapter of my life can officially begin! Speaking of these hills though, it's very interestingly populated. There are lots of Aptonoth, like in the fields before the mountain path, but there are also a good number of Jaggi, along with some monsters that look like thicker versions of Jaggi. I'll have to consult with Dawn about those. Because we first saw Jaggi in a rocky, mountainous area, it’s kinda weird seeing Jaggi living in this environment as well. Maybe this could just be their hunting grounds, because I don't see any dens nearby. The Aptonoth are on guard, and I'm not sure that a Jaggi can survive being rammed by that huge horn. I hope we get to watch a hunt.

Dawn says that the thick Jaggi are called Jaggia and that they are the female counterpart to Jaggi. They usually guard nests and dens but for some reason they are out in the field with the Jaggi today. Dawn guesses that they're moving location because they were kicked out by a rival pack. That makes sense to me, but I didn't see any signs of pack battles anywhere when we were on the mountain. The Jaggi are all in formation now, and they're circled around an Aptonoth that looks injured. It can’t walk or run, so it's just lying on the grass with its tail in a defensive position... oh no! The pack is closing in. I think this is the end for that Aptonoth.

It was over quickly. The first Jaggi jumped on the Aptonoths back, and then I had to look away. Something about watching that Aptonoth die didn't sit well with me, even after I said I wanted to watch a hunt. Now all of the Jaggi are happy and full though. It's the cruel circle of life. Adam says that in the next few minutes Maerinia should show up on our left. I can hardly wait! I can tell that Dawn is excited too - instead of reading her book she is looking for the city walls. I think I'll join her.

It's beautiful... absolutely gorgeous. We went over a hill and suddenly the Sapphire Port came into view. I caught my breath when I saw it; the seaside city is a mosaic of both white stone and tan brick houses, with roofs in every shade of blue. The roads are paved in cobbled stone ranging the same colors as the houses themselves. Seagulls float lazily on the breeze from the ocean and soar gently above the city itself, and the air smells like salt and adventure. I'm writing this as we're stopped at the city gates, waiting for entry. I’m sure none of us are carrying anything illegal, so this should be a quick and easy check. They're telling me to put away my journal though, so this paragraph is going to be cut short.

Like I said, a quick and easy check. We got inspected without trouble, and now they’re opening the heavy iron gate. Going through this gate feels like a rebirth. The carriage stop is right next to the main gate, so our ride is just about done. This is a travel journal, and the travel is over, for now, so I have to end this entry now, even though it’s the middle of the day. For now, I'm just excited to be here at my new home, with a new friend and a lot of stuff to get done.

- Anne

#AnneChapter10 AnneAerwyna

[imaginarycircus]

really boring, navel gazing bullshit and mental health stocktaking below cut. not pretty. talking about depression, aging, chronic health problems, and grief. please read with your own self-care in mind.

Unstructured time is not my friend. With my particular grab bag of cognitive and mental issues, I need structure. I need daily habits and routine. Right now I am floating in nothingness. I suspect that I am anemic and that’s making me feel as lively as an old dishrag. The cold and dark don’t help either. I ran a spoon deficit between Thanksgiving and Christmas for so long that by NYE all I wanted to do was sit on the couch and eat soup in my pyjamas.

I see way too many warning signs that I am not in a good place. I don’t want to go outside anymore, though it has been absolutely brutally cold. I can’t deal with people for the most part. Everything is exhausting before I even do anything. Showering is growing increasingly hard, but I’ve been taking lots of baths. I switched my face cleaning routine to using that French micelle cleaner and a toner and serum. My face is much happier. It seems doable and my face skin isn’t so dry.

I have work to do, but none of it is pressing unless I make it so. And I am not. I really dislike living here and I feel so stupid about that. It shouldn’t be so overwhelming to take the bus to our old neighborhood to go to one of the coffee shops, but it is. Partly because it’s a nightmare coming home anytime between 4:30 and 7 PM. Partly because it’s not a habit and so I can’t do it if I have to think about it. Shifting my schedule earlier hasn’t happened so I can avoid that. Yeah. I feel really silly and ridiculous and horrible about all that. It’s so hard not to start thinking awful things or minimizing my problems. But I’ve learned how much damage that kind of self-talk can do.

When I’m in a better place I can work around some of this. But I’m too low to cope so I’m floating in nothingness and I don’t want to stay like this. I’m sort of okay with downtime. I know if I write 6-10 hours a day for weeks or months--there will be a dead time after where I quietly do other things, like letting a field lie fallow for a season so you don’t leech all nutrients away.

IDK if my husband is frustrated with me, or is just tired, or is having his own issues, but he’s been treating me in a way that I don’t particularly like. It’s not abusive or anything. Just not great. This happens in long term relationships. I’m no day at the beach and have far more trouble modulating, or even being aware of my tone sometimes. Maybe I’m speaking or acting in ways that are making him crabby. I don’t know. But we’ll talk it through. Historically we’ve been good at figuring this stuff out and addressing it. I love him very much. He’s been so supportive and encouraging over the last 15 years. I don’t want anyone to think anything negative about him. He’s allowed to be crabby sometimes.

My birthday is coming and the number alarms me a bit. I try to avoid mentioning my age here frequently because I don’t feel good about it. I feel like I should be more successful and different than I am. More together. I also don’t want to get into the, omg you’re too old to be in fandom/be on this site crap. If you think that, you know where the door is. I’m about to turn 47. I’m facing down a birthday neither of my parents lived to see. My father died when he’d been 32 for seven days. My mother was 45. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my father’s death. He died in 1975 from cancer. They both had cancer. I can’t remember him really. I turned four a week after he died. My sweet grandfather, his father, died on my birthday the year before I went to college in Santa Fe. My grandmother died my freshman year. My mother died during my senior year.

I’ve had my period for about three weeks. Not a heavy one. I’m getting to the fun age at which my hormones can’t figure out what they’re doing. Which probably doesn’t help my mood. But the pituitary tumor screws up my hormones too and I need to take the medication for that, but it makes me so queasy and light headed. My plan is to wait until after my birthday so I can enjoy a nice dinner instead of bring unable to look at food and everything tasting like nickles. And before anyone asks--no. There isn’t another medication. There isn’t another treatment for this. There’s two medications and I’m taking the newer one that’s got milder side effects. Surgery is not an option. The risk isn’t worth it and chances are high the tumor would just grow back. It’s not cancerous. I had the genetic testing for MEN1 markers, which was what my father had. I had a parathyroid tumor removed and I have the pituitary one. The third is pancreatic, but my pancreas seems fine and I didn’t have the genetic markers so I am not concerned about it. Sure. It’s possible I could have cancer some day, but my chances are not greater despite both my parents, and both my grandmothers and a host of other family members having cancer. The testing put a lot of my fears to rest.

So. I need to take some iron. I need to make sure I eat at least one real meal a day with protein and vegetables. I’ve identified the two things I need to work on in the next week. An editor asked me to take another pass at a short story and I haven’t done it yet. I have to reread a treatment I haven’t looked at in a year or two, because it’s time to gear up for that project. And all the time this novel is percolating in the back of my mind and I don’t know if I’ll ever write it at this point, but it won’t go away. But because I won’t commit to it and haven’t been able to spend 3-4 months just writing a first draft all the way through w/o getting pulled back into other projects--the characters sort of hover on the edge of the fire, like curious wildlife. I can’t get them to come near right now.

If you read all this, good lord. Thank you. So many of you have been incredibly kind and generous and I appreciate you.

#cut for mental health stuff #and person navel gazing #because I need to think aloud so to speak #wow I am so sick of myself right now

[rememberthattime]

Chapter 50. Goodbye Australia

I can’t believe we’ve been here for two years. How has it already been 22 months!? 

We’ve basically lived here just as long as the UK, yet our time in Sydney feels more like a semester abroad. I know the toilets flush a different direction here, but does time move faster too?? Are we so far away from the rest of Earth that there’s relativity distortion???

Regardless of how quickly it’s arrived, our time in Sydney is coming to an end. Like anywhere we’ve live, Sydney had its highs and lows, though I’m surprisingly more sentimental about Australia than any of our previous homes. Australia is a unique and special place, and this goodbye post will capture how proud and fondly Chelsay and I will remember our time Down Under.

The best and worst of Australia can actually be captured by the setting from where I’m writing this post. It’s 6:30 AM. The sun is rising, and I’m looking out my window at an empty Manly Beach, the vast Pacific Ocean in the distance. I have my iced coffee because it’s 85 degrees. It’s quiet. The setting is just perfect.

The birds start to rise from their evening slumber. Some light chatter. But then the magpies wake up. And then cockatoos. And then kookaburras. Pretty soon the romantic notion of waking up to birds chirping has turned into Baghdad. And that’s Australia in a nutshell: an absolute dream for the right amount of time, but then the magpies start & you know it’s time to wake up.

Now, it’s obviously more complex than that. Australia may be the most perfect place in the world to raise a family. First, the weather and setting are unmatched. Anywhere. In an age where American and British kids are glued to screens, Aussie kids are distracted from their phones or TV by sunshine, swimming, and surfing. Chelsay and I first observed this when we discovered the Northern Beaches.

Sydney has some phenomenal coastal walks, but our hikes through the Northern Beaches were my favorite. For 15 months, we were ferrying over to Watson’s Bay for the Bondi-to-Coogee. We’d wrap up with a frosé slushee from Coogee Pavilion, and stop in CBD on the way back for 678 Korean BBQ. It was great.

But one weekend, we instead decided to head north to see how many beaches we could cover by foot. North Manly, Freshwater, Curl Curl, Dee Why, Collaroy, Narrabeen. Pretty soon, we’d walked 20 miles and were stunned. This beautiful, quiet coastline had been in our backyard the whole time!? 

The Northern Beaches walks became our “Richmond Park” equivalent, and as we walked barefoot along the sandy beaches, Chelsay and I took note of the young families. Their kids weren’t stuck back on the beach blanket, looking at their phones. It’s impossible when your spoiled by one of the best settings in the world. They played backyard games on the beach, or volleyball, or ran around with their border collies. Dads surfed with their sons and moms & daughters worked out with the lifesaving club. Yeah, the LIFESAVING CLUB. Instead of tee-ball, Aussie kids are learning to swim out in the ocean and save people. It’s easy to see how Aussies have great attitudes when they’re raised in an environment like this.

That actually brings me to my next point about why Australia is special: the people. Just phenomenal. There are a couple bad eggs like anywhere, but on the whole, Aussies are light hearted, funny, kind, optimistic, and always after a good time. At work, I had the most supportive and entertaining colleagues, enabling the best two years of my career so far. When learning to surf, strangers were welcoming and encouraging (they would tell us when to paddle and cheer when we caught a wave!). And only Aussies could come up with sayings like “Piss in your pocket”, “Good bloke, like a beer” and “We’re not here to ____ spiders.”

I have two stories to exhibit this lovable Aussie attitude. The first came when Chelsay and I visited the Museum of Industry. It was the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11, so the museum was hosting a NASA exhibit. The whole thing was great: it was all about how Aussies helped with the moon landing. Really, they played a very small part by simply receiving the camera feed from the moon, which was only due to the Earth’s rotation making them best positioned for Armstrong’s first step. But the Aussies had so much pride in contributing to the accomplishment. They didn’t have the resources to send a man to the moon, but when the time came, Aussies happily and proudly stepped in.

My second story comes from North Curl Curl. Chelsay and I were on one of our Northern Beaches walks, when we came across a kids surf contest. (Again, instead of peewee football, Aussie children have surf competitions.) Anyway, the scene was great. It was sunny, the parents had come out to watch, and one of the teenagers set up a microphone to give play-by-play. Some highlights:

“Aw I’m calling it: best day of the year. The waves are     rolling, sausages are rolling.”

“There are sets! Out! The back!”

“Suns out, buns out! Well no buns yet, but the lasses     will be here soon.”

“Just a reminder to any surfers: yield your waves to     the kids. You got a problem with that, we’ve got a group of 20 locals     here. Get amongst it.”

This teen captured what it means to be Australian: funny, positive, and energetic.

I actually have a bonus third story about how much I love Aussie attitudes. Perhaps no story better sums up Australia’s priority of just having a good time than Steven Bradbury. Bradbury was an Australian speed skater that made it to the 1000m finals of 2002 Winter Olympic. As a quick aside, it’s a testament to Aussie athleticism that there is zero snow in the country yet they consistently compete and medal at the Winter Olympics. Back to Bradbury though. He basically only made the finals because all of his opponents crashed in the semi-finals. So now he’s in the finals. He’s matched up against the three fasted skaters in the world, and he knows he really shouldn’t be there. So, for 950m, he holds back. He’s enjoying that he’s made the finals in the Winter Olympics, taking in the moment and happy to let the other skaters fight. The front runners are stressed throughout, constantly passing one another and jockeying to take the lead.

With 50m left, Bradbury is a full 15m back. But then the aggression of the front runners costs them - after battling on the last turn, they all tumble. Bradbury, who was just enjoying a leisurely skate, passes them all and somehow with a grin and somehow wins gold! His quote afterwards captures his Aussiness: “I was the oldest bloke in the field and I knew that. Skating four races back to back, I wasn't going to have any petrol left in the tank. So there was no point in getting there and mixing it up because I was going to be in last place anyway. So I figured I might as well stay out of the way and be in last place.”

“Doing a Bradbury” is now another phenomenal Aussie saying.

The weather and people of Australia certainly exceeded Chelsay and I’s hopes when we moved to Sydney. That said, we’d never been here before, so how could we really know what to expect? Here are some other Aussie realities that turned out different than expectations:

The biggest surprise is how isolated Australia is. I knew it was far away, but didn’t grasp just HOW far. This makes travel harder, both because of flight times and flight prices, which ultimately is the biggest drawback of Australia. Sure we had some absolutely amazing trips (New Zealand, Western Australian, Fiji and Indo all stand out), but a just weekend trip doesn’t get you as far as it would in London. For this time in Chelsay and I’s lives, we’re really looking to see as much as possible.

On the positive side, We expected more bugs, spiders, and snakes. These have been a non-factor in Manly.

Despite the absence of insects, there have been far more sharks than expected. Not Great Whites, but 5 foot Dusky Whalers, Reef Sharks, Wobbegongs, and Port Jackson’s. I see at least one almost every time I go for a swim. After swimming with about 100 sharks over the past year, both Chelsay and I are much more comfortable with them than     expected.

We should be better at surfing. We live on an absolutely ideal beach to learn. Sure, we can competently stand on a 5-6 ft wave or catch the occasional “green face”, but we’d never be confused with pros. After two years, we can barely turn. Those kids in the North Curl Curl competition would surf circles around us.

Okay, we’ve made it to the end. As a “completeness check”, I took a look back at my Goodbye London post. That post was absolutely spot on - I perfectly predicted how I’d feel about London 24 months after leaving. It was such a good prediction that I actually feel a bit of pressure to do the same for Australia.

So here it goes. With Australia, I predict we’ll forget the lack of travel options and focus more on memories we did make. The freedom of driving through outback in Western Australia and the Top End. Drinking wine, snacking on “the goods”, and listening to the hits on a warm night in Esperance. Vacations visiting dinosaurs (Komodo) or other worldly Mordor (New Zealand). Day trips near Sydney to see koalas (Port Stephens) or kangaroos and wombats (Kangaroo Valley). Chic brunches on the Sunshine Coast, and capturing all the Pokémon (Aussie wildlife) on trips to Tassie, the Barrier Reef, and Far North Queensland. Our long weekend walks through the Northern Beaches, followed by delivery daal from our favorite Indian place.

Ultimately though, what I’ll miss most is the free Saturdays and Sundays that we so easily take for granted. Waking up and getting a pretzel croissant from Sonoma. Watching the surfers from the corso, followed by barefoot morning walk along the beach. Grabbing our boards, snorkels, a book, and some guacamole and hitting the beach. Ending the day with chicken nuggets, truffle fries, and an elderflower spritz at Hemingway’s. Taking in the unbelievably colorful sunsets EVERY SINGLE NIGHT!

Unlike London, there won’t be sights or events or attractions that I miss about Australia. It will be the feeling of a free weekend in Manly, the hot sun, and warm Aussies around us.

[aresaphrodites]

Wicked Games - Chapter Four

In this chapter: Betty’s insecurities come into play and she and Jughead definite their friendship. :)

Her time away ends soon.

On Monday she’s back on the beach, taking pictures for a swimsuit line. It’s more than a bit cool outside and standing in the water doesn’t make it any better. She would complain, but this is her job and she knows how things work. She just has to stick it out for a little while longer and then she can go back to her apartment and sleep under her warm covers.

“Betty, darling, can you face the water? Look over your shoulder a tiny bit.” She does as she’s asked and the photographer has a field day. “Okay, now show us those beautiful eyes. Perfect, perfect.” He gets a few more shots in. “Okay, now just have fun!”

Well, that’s easy enough. She bends down and splashes some of the water towards the shore. The photographer laughs and encourages her, which sparks her own laughter. She twirls around in the water and even does a few of her favorite yoga moves that she had recently mastered. She switches between having fun and being serious so that the photographer can have a variety to choose from.

She looks onto the beach, trying to find one specific person. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to lock with Jughead’s. She wasn’t sure if the other man was expecting her to forget their conversation in the taxi, but she hadn’t. It was an odd nickname, that much was true, but she liked it. It somehow fit him better than Forsythe did and it rolled off of the tongue a whole lot easier. The fact that he had even told her about it made her feel like maybe he was warming up to her. That was debatable though. It was hard to tell what he was thinking and she was never sure were they stood with each other.

Jughead’s wearing a black jacket, which she is very jealous of at the moment. He must see that so he makes it a point to wrap the clothing tighter around himself as he smirks over at her. She glares at him, but he gives her a thumbs up afterwards. She’s not sure what he’s giving her a thumbs up for, but then he mouths ‘You’re doing great’ to her and she grins.

“Beautiful!” The photographer yells out. “That’s a beautiful smile, oh yes. I think that one was perfect. The happiness you just radiated, my darling.” Betty starts to blush as Jughead keeps on smirking at her, obviously hearing everything the man is saying. “I think we’re all done here.”

They wrap things up and Betty’s relieved when she’s finally given the okay to leave. She walks over to Jughead who’s still holding the clothes she came in earlier. He hands her her jeans and t-shirt and she puts them on over the bikini she was allowed to keep.

“Are you cold?” He asks her. “You can have my jacket.”

“I’m fine.” It’s not even really that cool outside. It had a lot more to do with the fact that she was standing in the damn ocean in a bikini while there was a breeze. Now that she had put on her clothes though, she felt a lot more comfortable. “I was thinking we could go to the boardwalk,” she tells him. “I don’t want to go back to the apartment just yet.”

They were currently in Santa Monica and Betty wanted to take advantage of it. When she had first visited California, Santa Monica was the first place she had gone to and she had fallen in love with it. It was a fun place and for some reason it always seemed to take her away from the present and take her to another time in another world. It was nice in this really weird, nostalgic sort of way.

“Sure,” Jughead tells her. “Whatever you want.” She’s curious if he even wants to go or if he’s just telling her yes because that’s kind of his job. Truth be told, she’s never really had an actual bodyguard board that was permanent in her life the way Jughead was. She wanted to be able to reach out to him and connect with him, but she just didn’t know how to. Maybe if they were in an environment that was fun and easygoing it would somehow make things easier. The boardwalk was definitely a good idea.

As they make their way to the pier, Betty looks at the people around her. There are some people that are cycling around on bikes, some are rollerskating. People are laid out on the sand and she’s pretty sure that the girl smoking on the beach isn’t smoking a cigarette if the smell is anything to go by.

One man is yelling at absolutely nothing and Betty’s heart clenches as she realizes that he’s obviously on some type of drug. As much as she loved California and all it had to offer, she knew it was a prime place for drugs. She’d even seen firsthand just how much it truly was. Being a model kept her eyes opened to this kind of stuff. She had had people come up to her before and ask her what her secret to having such a great body was and if she could give them her dealer’s number. When she had told them that she simply stuck to working out and running, they had rolled their eyes at her. Apparently that wasn’t the cool thing to do around here.

They’re approached by a young girl, she can’t be more than eight years old, as soon as they get onto the pier. She has long black hair, tanned skin, and big brown eyes. She’s adorable and Betty immediately stops and smiles at her.

“Hello,” she greets. “Are you lost, love?”

The little girl shakes her head and smiles. “Are you Betty Cooper?”

“I am,” she nods. “What’s your name?”

“Wow,” the little girls sighs in admiration. “I’m Leia. You’re beautiful.”

Betty and Jughead both laugh at the girl’s awestruck face, she’s staring at Betty like she’s an angel.

“Thank you, Leia. You’re very beautiful too. I love your hair.”

The girl’s smile grows at Betty’s compliment as she grabs a strand of her own hair and stares down at it as if to see what Betty likes so much about it.

“I told my mommy that I want to be like you when I grow up!” The girl informs her. “She said I need to grow a little more.”

“That’s a good idea to me. Is your mommy around here?” She doesn’t see anyone near the girl who could pass for her mother and she’s not about to leave her all alone.

“Sure. She’s buying us an ice-cream cone over at the food courts.”

Betty widens her eyes. The food court’s more inside of the pier and she wonders why the little girl walked so far off. “Can I meet her?”

“Yes!” The little girl tells her, eyes brightening. “Mommy thinks you’re very pretty too.” Leia takes her hand and leads her over to the food court. Betty turns around to make sure that Jughead is still following them. He seems to be looking around for someone, maybe for anyone who might look distressed over losing their kid.

They don’t even reach the food court before they see a young woman, maybe in her thirties, who’s holding two ice creams cones and looking very distraught.

“Leia?” The woman calls out, catching the attention of a few citizens. Only one couple walks over to her though, asking if she needs any help.

“Mommy!” Leia calls out, pulling her hand from Betty’s and running over towards the woman. “Look who I found!”

The woman turns as soon as she hears the voice and the relief on her face is obvious as she pulls her daughter towards her, hugging her both tightly and carefully as to not get any of the ice cream on her.

“Leia, what have I told you about walking away from me like that? You scared me half to death!”

“I’m sorry,” the girl pouts. “I got tired of waiting, but look who I found!” She turns her mother’s attention towards Betty who is standing near them with a smile on her face.

“Hi,” she greets sheepishly. The mother looks confused for a moment before her eyes widen.

“Oh,” she breathes out, shocked.

“I’m Betty,” she says as she holds a hand out for the woman to shake. “Your daughter kind of found me.”

“Sasha,” the woman says, introducing herself. “Thank you so much for bringing her to me. She has a bad habit of wandering around. She’s a curious little one,” Sasha smiles as she brings Leia closer to her side.

“I used to be the same way when I was her age. I think I gave my mom one too many scares back in the day.”

The woman smiles at her. “She adores you. I’m sure she was over the moon that she found you.”

“She’s very cute,” Betty tells her. “I love meeting young fans.” And she does. She’d rather meet young fans than older ones any day. It wasn’t anything against her older fans, but they didn’t have the same kind of energy as her young ones did. It was uplifting to see the way a child’s eyes would light up as they saw her. Kids were always so energetic, offering smiles and stories to her that were always so simple yet heartwarming.

“I told Betty that I’m going to be like her when I grow up,” Leia says from around her ice cream cone.

“Could I maybe take a picture of the two of you?” Sasha asks, looking a bit embarrassed as she does. “I think she’d be happy to have this memory forever.”  

“Of course.” Betty stands next to Leia, and squats down to her level, giving her a hug as they pose for the picture. She catches Jughead’s eye and there’s something there that she’s never seen before. She can’t put her finger on it, but the look in his eyes is one that looks so warm and inviting. She focuses back on the picture and Sasha takes it quickly. Betty stands again and says goodbye to the duo before walking back over to Jughead.

“That was really kind of you,” he tells her, sounding a bit taken aback by it as if he wasn’t expecting her to be so nice to a child. She wonders what he thought she would have done. “You’re good with kids.”

Betty just shrugs. “My older sister has kids. I love them. I don’t see them as much these days, because she lives in New York, but they’re amazing.” Jughead just nods at her answer.

“Do you have any kids?” She asks him, curious. His eyes widen and he looks completely taken aback at her question. Betty would laugh at his shocked face, except she doesn’t know why it’s such a surprising question. She thinks it’s a pretty fair one. Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t really know much about Jughead at all. They don’t talk about themselves ever. He could have a wife and she wouldn’t even know about it. Granted he doesn’t wear a wedding ring, but she knows some people who eventually stop wearing theirs even though they’re still happily married.

“No,” he answers plainly.

“Oh,” she nods. “Do you have a wife?”

This time he snorts. “No, Betty.”

“A husband?” She asks as she studies his face.

“What?” He laughs in bewilderment. “No, I’m not married.”

“Are you dating?”

“What is this? Twenty questions?” He sighs.

“I’m just asking you some questions,” she pouts. “We don’t really know each other. We should get to know each other, don’t you think?”

“I know enough about you.”

He doesn’t say it rudely, he just states it as a matter of fact, but it still irks Betty. He doesn’t know her. He doesn’t know her at all. She’s always had people tell her that they “knew her” just because they read about her in the tabloids or saw a few interviews with her on their TV. None of them know her, though. No one ever tries to get to know her. It’s insulting and it’s definitely hurt her feelings more than once and this is one of those times.

“No, you don’t.” She says softly as they walk along. “You don’t know me at all.”

“Betty—.”

“You think you know me because I’m famous and for some reason when you’re famous everyone thinks they know every single detail about your life?” Her voice is rising and she’s trying to keep her cool, but she can tell it isn’t working. She stops walking and faces Jughead. He looks shocked at the anger in her eyes, but she doesn’t back down.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Betty says as she looks up at him. “What’s my favorite color? What’s my guilty pleasure movie? My favorite song? The first concert I ever saw in person? What was my childhood like? What’s my favorite book?” Jughead just stares at her, stunned.

“You know what I look like in a bikini,” she tells him fiercely. “You know what I look like without makeup before a photoshoot. You know my business life, but don’t you dare stand here and tell me that you know me, because you don’t.”

He’s quiet for a moment and they just stand there on the middle of the pier, staring at each other.

“Betty,” he finally tries, but she shakes her head.

“I want to go home,” she tells him. “This was a bad idea.”

Things with Jughead are so hot and cold and she hates it. She never knows what to expect from him. Sometimes she feels like they’re getting somewhere and then something like this happens. She knows that he’s her bodyguard, but she wonders if maybe he just sees her like the rest of the male population does. Does he just see her as some floozy blonde that made her way in the industry just because she has a pretty face? The amount of times she’s been on a date with a guy just to have him ask her what her favorite position in bed is comes running through her mind.

Jughead says he knows enough about her, but what’s he basing that on? The articles about her with headlines about how she slept her way up to the top? The articles about how her dating Reggie Mantle nearly cost his football team the Super Bowl somehow? The articles about her and the supposed fifteen flings she’s had in the past five months alone? She’s well aware of the nasty things that are printed about her. No one ever talks about any of the good she does.

Where are the articles about all the millions of dollars she’s given away to charities? Where are the articles about the numerous hospital visits she’s made to children and fans just to brighten up their days? Where are the articles about the fundraiser she started to help fight cancer? Who’s writing those articles? Those were things she did, not expecting any kind of thanks or recognition at all. They were things she did because she knew that if she was going to have all this money, then she needed to do something good with it. They were things she gladly did and would do over and over again.

But she won’t lie and say that she didn’t cry when the day after she raised one million for charity, an article about how she had supposedly slept with a director to get a small part in a film was plastered on every single news tablet. It didn’t matter that she knew that wasn’t true, because no one else thought so. Her friends and everyone close to her knew the truth, but that was it.

She wondered if maybe this was what Jughead was referring to when he said he knew enough about her. Maybe he had made his mind up about her long ago and that’s why they couldn’t seem to move forward as friends no matter how hard she tried.

“Betty, come on,” Jughead says in a pleading tone, but she turns around and starts walking off the pier.

“I just want to go home,” she whispers. He doesn’t say anything this time, he just follows her.

They don’t talk for the rest of the day. They don’t even talk the following day. She doesn’t have anything to do that requires her leaving the apartment, so she doesn’t need to go anywhere alone with him. There’s no reason at all for her to speak with him and so she stays in her bedroom, far away from him, leaving only when absolutely necessary.

It’s going on the second day since their little argument on the pier and Betty’s feeling a bit over it. She’s still upset, but she’s tired of having to stay locked up in her room as if she’s trying to prove a point. She doesn’t need to act this way. She’ll just have to learn that Jughead isn’t her friend. She can treat him as a bodyguard and nothing more. Just because she hadn’t wanted to, didn’t mean that she couldn’t. She was a professional. She knew how to act.

So on the second day she showers and brushes her hair and does a face routine so that she feels a little better about herself. It works and when she smiles in the mirror it doesn’t feel forced. She feels better. She throws on a pair of sweats and an old shirt from her high school days that has a few holes in it and is a little more than well worn. It’s comfortable though and she needs comfortable right now.

When she walks into the kitchen she isn’t surprised to see Jughead sitting at the bar, eating a bowl of cereal. However, he looks more than surprised to see her if the way his spoon falls into his cereal is anything to go by. Some milk splashes onto him, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at her.

“Good morning, Betty,” he tells her warily, unsure as to how she’ll react to him.

“Morning,” is all she says back as she gets a bagel and pops in into the toaster. Jughead doesn’t say anything else and it’s a bit awkward, but she refuses to acknowledge that. She just needs to wait this out and then things could go back to normal. Then again she isn’t even sure what normal is for them.

Her bagel pops up and she puts cream cheese on it before walking over to the round table to sit. She’s not about to go back to her room and eat her breakfast in shame. No. This is her apartment and she’s going to eat her bagel where she damn well pleases.

“You only eat cream cheese with your bagel every other day.”

It comes out of nowhere and Betty looks over at Jughead in confusion. He’s not looking back at her. He’s staring down at his bowl of cereal.

“You switch between Nutella and cream cheese.”

“Okay?” Betty says, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know for sure what you favorite color is, but I’m assuming blue might be pretty high up on the list because it’s the only color you use when writing in your calendar and it’s the color of your bedsheets and pillows. You watch The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad every single night before bed and laugh at nearly every Mr. Toad scene.” Betty’s eyes widen as she realizes what he’s doing and her heart clenches. “Your favorite book is Peter Pan I’m guessing by the numerous amount of copies and editions you own. I don’t know what your childhood was like and I don’t know the first concert you ever went to, but I know a little bit.”

Betty continues to stare at him, mouth slightly open. She doesn’t know what to tell him and he finally looks over at her with more emotion in his eyes than she’s ever seen before.

“I’m sorry if what I said to you on the pier offended you,” and she can tell that he truly means it. “I’m not used to…” he trails off as if not knowing what to call it.

“You’re not used to people wanting to be your friend?” She asks him, a bit sarcastically. He just glares over at her.

“No, I’m not. I wasn’t really popular when I was younger and the only time anyone wanted to be friends with me was when they wanted something from me. It carried over to college and even now. I don’t have many friends, Betty.”

Her heart breaks for him. He looks so sad as he says the words. Betty has no idea how he feels. She had always been a bit popular growing up since she was Polly Cooper’s younger sister and everyone loved Polly. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone.

“You have me,” she tells him. “I’d like to think we can be friends.”

“I’m your bodyguard. Can I even be your friend too?”

“Of course,” she says with an eye roll. “You kind of have to do whatever I tell you to do and I’m telling you to be my friend.”

“Didn’t Cheryl say I wasn’t your slave?” He smiles though and the action makes Betty immediately smile back. “I’m not dating by the way,” he says randomly and Betty looks at him weirdly. Is he trying to hint something? “The other day on the pier you asked if I was dating. I’m not. Do you really think I have time to date when I’m over here watching over you twenty-four seven?”

Oh.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” she jokes. “I won’t have myself be the reason you’re holding back on love.”

Jughead snorts and shakes his head. “There wasn’t anyone before you and I don’t think there will be anyone now. I’m not really looking to go out and search for it.”

“Maybe it’ll find you,” she tells him, always a sucker for a good love story. “You know, when you least expect it. Just like in the movies.”

“Life isn’t a movie. Maybe yours, but the rest of us? Not so much.”

“You’re in my life now though,” she tells him. “Doesn’t that kind of make you part of the movie? Just be patient, Jughead Jones. There is hope for you yet.”

He just laugh, shaking his head and she smiles as she takes another bite out of her bagel.

There’s a loud banging on the door suddenly and Jughead and Betty look at each other in bewilderment, wondering who would come over at this time unannounced. Jughead gets up from the bar and walks over to the front door, looking through the peephole before letting his posture relax as he opens it.

“Cheryl,” he greets, letting the redhead inside. “I thought I was going to have to kick someone’s ass.”

Cheryl looks over at him before rolling her eyes. “Oh yes, because you look so terrifying in your Superman pajamas.”

Betty hadn’t noticed before, but Jughead is wearing blue pajamas with a flying Superman all over them. She snorts at the outfit, earning herself a glare from him. She just gives him a thumbs up in approval at the pants before following Cheryl into the living room.

“So what’s up? You usually call before barging in like this. Not that I care, but—.”

“We have a problem,” her manager cuts her off.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Betty asks, automatically assuming the worst. Cheryl doesn’t say anything as she reaches into her bag and pulls out a magazine, throwing it over to Betty.

Her heart starts racing, she knows that nothing printed on this magazine can be good and her hands are shaking as she picks it up.

Jughead’s right behind her and he lets out a snort as he sees the picture and the headline to go along with it. Betty however, doesn’t find it so amusing.

There, staring back at her, is a picture of her and Jughead on the pier two days ago. She’s staring up at him with anger written all over her face as he looks down at her with an expression of confusion and regret.

Trouble in Paradise? Betty Cooper seems less than happy with new mystery boyfriend.

“Jesus,” Betty whispers. “Can we write a statement on this? Just tell people he’s my bodyguard. I can’t deal with an article like this every time we so much as go out.”

“Already done,” Cheryl says with a wave of her hand. “That’s not the problem. I really don’t care what was going on in this picture, but it looks very intense and therefore very intimate. Am I the only one who’s thinking what I’m thinking?”

Betty looks at her in question before the light goes off in her head.

“If these are already printed out,” she starts in a whisper, “then it’s only a matter of time before…” she trails off, not finishing but it’s okay. She doesn’t have to. Cheryl nods in agreement. Jughead stands up straight and looks down at the two girls.

“So what do we do?”

“We wait,” Cheryl says. “There’s not much we can do. I already released a statement about you being her bodyguard so we just hope that whoever’s stalking her sees the statement before they see this, but—.”

“That’s very unlikely,” Betty finishes. “Even if he does read the statement it’s unlikely he’ll even care.”

“Just stay put for a while,” Cheryl tells her as she rubs Betty’s back in comfort. “As far as we know, he doesn’t know where you’re living. Let this cool down for a bit. You’ll have Forsythe here with you. You’re safe.”

It feels weird hearing him being addressed as Forsythe. She almost corrects Cheryl, but stops herself at the last second. She doesn’t know why, but she wants to keep his nickname to herself. It’s something that only she knows and she likes it that way. It makes her feel special even if it is just him trusting her with his nickname.

She hates feeling like cold water has just been poured over her. Of course the second one thing goes right in her life, there’s something just waiting to ruin it all. She briefly wonders if maybe she had fucked up royally in another life and that’s why all this was happening to her.

“He won’t get away with this,” Jughead promises. “We’ll find him.”

Betty just nods, not really believing him this time. After all, how do you find a faceless person?

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #Wicked Games Fic

[illyriantremors]

Beneath the Stars Chapter 2

Chapter I

AO3 Linkage

Summary: The start of Feyre's senior year brings with it a lot of unexpected stress as she prepares for the reality of college applications and finds out a startling revelation from her dad.

Chapter 2

The last bell of the school day chirped sharply in my ear. It was a little unsettling to have to skip my first session of AP Studio Art for a mandated senior assembly, but I kept reminding myself I’d get it back on Friday and that wasn’t so long to wait.

With a graduating senior class just over a grand, the school administration couldn’t fit us all into one space to discuss our impending college admissions. Hell, I didn’t know how they were even going to fit us all into the football stadium for graduation. Rehearsals alone were a nightmare I wasn’t looking forward to.

Thank goodness June was still several months away.

So to rectify the situation and still bore us to tears with endless chatter and a twenty-five page packet I was not prepared for, our principal assigned each senior a period of class over the first week of school to skip so that smaller groups could convene and go over the college application process.

It was exactly as boring as it sounded.

And also terrifying.

“They really expect us to do all of this?”

I whispered to Tamlin as my fingers flicked through the pages of our University Admittance: A Prythian High School Guide. On the podium, senior class counselors took turns shouting into the mic going over the pages in excruciating detail.

“Aw, come on, Fey - it’s not so bad.”

I glanced over the four pages weighing the pros and cons of the SAT versus the ACT alone and rolled my eyes. Tamlin had already taken both and received the equivalent of an O Level Owl in each.

“I’ll help you study - if you’re nervous about it,” Tamlin said, noting how I hadn’t left the state testing page yet as our counselor moved on to essay writing. Apparently, we’d need to meet with our English teachers for at least two sessions to go over our essays.

“I’m not nervous,” I said. “This just seems like a chore.”

“It’s only a chore because you spend more time fiddling with art brushes than you do actual homework, Feyre.”

I turned to my left and shot Lucien an irritated stare. “I’m not completely daft, I’ll have you know!” Though I was still whispering, my voice definitely carried the undertone of a shout. “I may not have as high a reading level as you do, but I’m in Calculus.”

Lucien snorted.

“Bravo, Feyre. Calc - A true accomplishment.”

“Whatever, Lukey. This just seems like a lot of work, but I’ll be sure to congratulate you when you get accepted into every Ivy League you apply for.”

“You better.”

Lucien and I exchanged angry smirks and Tamlin hissed, “I’m so proud of you two. It only took you a year to still not get along with each other.”

“You can blame Tam, for that,” Lucien said and I was surprised to hear a little genuine fire behind it. “He has a habit of creating dysfunctional relationships wherever he goes.”

On my right, Tamlin finally looked up from his packet and glared at Lucien.

“Am I missing something…?”

“Application fees!”

My head shot up. On the Powerpoint presentation up on the auditorium screen in front of us, the very same two words our counselor had just said loomed large in big, bold red letters - like they knew this was going to be the worst part and had sent a pre-emptive red flag to warn us.

My hands sped through the packet to find the corresponding page. Cringing in on itself, my body sunk lower into my seat.

The average application fee was ballparked at $65-70 per school and that was just to apply! There was no guarantee you’d even get into the school and assuming you did, you couldn’t attend more than one school. No matter how you looked at it, there was a lot of money adding up in this packet preparing to be wasted.

And rates went up for applications to out of state schools. It was like one massive joke: apply elsewhere and go bankrupt, or stay local and rot in the hellhole you’ve always hated.

Not that California was always that bad. I actually quite enjoyed the wicked heat the southern landscape brought in. And nothing could quite beat having Disneyland and the beaches within easy driving distance no matter how far inland or north you might live.

But my parents - dad, I mentally corrected, since mom hadn’t called once since walking out on us three months ago - could hardly afford groceries. Sixty, seventy, eighty bucks a pop suddenly felt like a choice between my future and hamburger helper for a week.

I thought of other states - upstate New York, Pennsylvania, North Carolina - all places with reputable universities, but still far enough away that I could maybe feel more relaxed. My reveries of open skies and fields so far outside the major cities you could actually see the stars was interrupted by Lucien’s quiet notice of my head sinking into my lap as I shrank into the seat.

“You okay, Feyre?”

My eyes flew open. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. “Yep, dandy as a lion.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It’s like dandelions, Lukey. Get it? Because they’re dandy.”

“And you two are five-year-olds,” Tamlin said. “Now shut the hell up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

I glanced down at Tamlin’s lap, but instead of our college guide, he was rifling through interview notes. I grimaced.

Newspaper.

Tamlin’s obsession.

“Not this already?” I whined. “It’s barely even the first day of school, Tamlin. You promised not to get so obsessed this year.” The look I gave him when he looked up to argue said enough.

“I’m not obsessing,” and he added air quotes around the word. “Ianthe got senior editor this year, but Mr. Hybern is letting her pick her co-editors. There are only two spots and five of us are fighting for them. If I want to be able to add Senior Co-Editor of the Prythian High Monthly to my college apps, I have to be vigilant.”

I didn’t reply and it forced Tamlin to stop reading his notes. He knew how worked up I got over this. We’d fought about it on and off all summer after his obsessive habits with Newspaper staff all junior year.

“Look,” he said, taking my hand. “This is important to me. Don’t you want me to do well? The better my college applications look, the more places I can get in and the more options we’ll have together to find universities close together.”

“Close together? Why not the same university?”

“The odds we’ll get into the same exact schools are slim. You said it yourself, you’re only really looking at art schools.”

I couldn’t fault him there. I was only really looking at art schools.

“Cheer up, Feyre,” Lucien said, stuffing his packet into his backpack and standing up at the precise moment the bell rang to let us out. “If Tamlin’s busy with Ianthe, that just means you get to spend more time with my lovely self.”

“Oh goody,” I said mustering up as much sarcasm as I could find. “You can take me horseback riding through the Hollywood Hills on the weekend. Or - ooh, I know! We can hunt Dementors in the Forbidden Forest. Won’t that be fun!”

“My ideal Friday night.”

“Let’s go home,” Tamlin concluded, but home was really the last place I wanted to be.

I was more than surprised when I pulled into the driveway and found my sister Elain’s car parked. I spotted a bright yellow sunflower sitting next to the steering wheel of her bright blue VW Bug and shook my head.

Because of course Elain’s car would have flowers.

My driveway was nowhere near as long as Lucien’s, but it was still a good trek from the car to the front door and as I stepped inside the over-large mansion I’d grown up in, I was met with yet another surprise.

“Feyre!” my sister said with her usual pep amid a mountain of boxes. “Thank goodness you’re home. I’m so lost with what to do with all these boxes.”

She stood up and scratched her scalp between the delicate gold bands of the headband she’d wrapped around her blonde locks.

It was odd seeing her home. When mom left, it hadn’t taken long for Nesta and Elain to take off for school. Summer sessions weren’t unusual for them especially now that they TA-ed for their professors to earn extra cash towards their PhDs, but the university they attended in LA was close enough that they generally tried to stay home over summer and put up with the commute.

Just not this summer apparently.

I watched her looking around at all the boxes, huffing a big sigh and couldn’t help but be amused by her cluelessness. For being a scientific smartie, Elain could sure be thick about other things. “Well for starters, you might want to go change into some jeans or something. I’m not sure a maxi dress is optimal for this kind of challenge.”

I set my backpack down on a nearby chair and went over to pick up one of her boxes. “What is all of this anyway? You and Nesta finally get sick of University housing and decide to move in together officially?”

Elain gave me a blank doe-eyed stare.

“You know, I’m sure dad is cool with you two keeping your stuff here even if you don’t technically live here all the time anymore. You could probably move to Tennessee and he’d still keep your rooms exactly as they are.”

A nervous chuckle threatened in my throat and promptly died when Elain said tentatively, “Feyre… didn’t dad talk to you?”

I set the box down. “Talk to me about what?”

“Um, he’s in the study. And on second thought, I think I’ve got this,” and she pointed at all the boxes in a gesture that hinged just a little bit on frenzied, “covered.” Then she bit her lip - the telltale sign of an Elain fib. Classic.

“Elain?”

“Just go talk to dad, alright?” Her chest decompressed. “Don’t make me be the one to tell you.”

Dad was, in fact, in the study and surprise surprise, there were more boxes stacked about. I wondered how long they’d been there and I simply hadn’t noticed from lack of venturing into this part of the house.

Dad was sitting as his desk when I silently breezed up to lean on the door frame. His head was resting in his hand, his arm propped up on the chair.

Gently, I rapped my knuckles along the wall. He blinked up.

“Care to tell me what this is all about?”

“Oh hell,” dad said with a groan, shuffling to get up out of his seat.

“No - sit, sit,” I encouraged, waving him off. “You’ll hurt your knee again if you fuss too much and besides, I get it.”

“You do?”

I moved to sit on the edge of his desk, my legs kicking back and forth until my heels hit the wooden sides. “When were you going to tell me you lost the house?”

“Oh Feyre,” he said and it was as if I could feel all the air rush out of him like it was my body caving in. A part of me had felt not entirely different in that auditorium at school.

“Do Nesta and Elain know?”

“Yes, but only that we’re moving. They think we’re just downsizing.”

“More important question - does mom know?”

His lips tightened into a thin line, my answer. I nodded.

“You’ll have to tell her sometime. She can’t stay away forever whether she wants to or not. You two are still legally married and no one has filed for any kind of divorce or separation - that I’m aware of,” I added when he shot me a look.

“No one’s filed,” he said. “Don’t give me that worry wart look of yours. I’m tired of seeing it.”

“That’s because I’m the only one who ever gives you the worry wart look. Nesta and Elain, on the other hand-”

“Have different ways of coping than you do. Why do you think I told them so far in advance and not you?”

Genuinely curious and not sure of what he would say, I asked, “Why?”

“Because I knew you could take it. Look at you.” He shrugged at me sitting nonchalantly on his desk and I could see his reasoning. We were losing the house and I hadn’t so much as flinched. Meanwhile, Elain sat in the entryway twiddling her thumbs over cardboard boxes and packing peanuts.

I didn’t want to know where Nesta was.

Did that make me a strong person? Or a really callous one?

“So when are we moving? No wait - better question, part two: where are we moving?”

“Not far. It’s only a twenty minute drive, but the neighborhood is decidedly less… affluent than our current community.”

I snorted. As if that mattered. “Big deal. I’ll get a job. We’ll make it work. I’m sure between you, me, and Mary-Kate and Ashley out there, we can come up with enough to get by.”

“Feyre…” Mercifully, he said my name as a chuckle, but I could see the truth lingering in his eyes. Elain and Nesta were dedicated to themselves, which meant their money was too. But who was I to tell my dad who had a tendency to drink when the cards went down in the wrong direction otherwise.

I’d never had a job before - not a real one. Occasionally, I would babysit for neighbors and with the kind of homes I lived next to, those gigs paid big for a teenager looking to see every new movie known to man over summer. Beyond that, however, nothing.

But while Lucien might have been right about my English grades, I was tough and a quick learner. And I would be 18 in December - no longer so fresh to barely be considered for a job. Surely, I could find something.

“Thank you, Feyre,” dad said, taking my hand and giving it a gratifying squeeze. There was just still that tiny lingering sense of something else that made me pause.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

I shook my head. “You have the same look you always get the morning after you and mom have a fight and you drink too much. I know your secrets, old man. Spill.”

“The move is this weekend.”

“WHAT.”

Cue the onslaught of outraged emojis on my phone.

I jumped off the desk and began pacing. College applications? A new job? Moving - this weekend. And there was still the tiny fact that my mother had left us without a word and never looked back to contend with.

Mindlessly, I scratched the skin along the crook of my arm until the itch went away.

“You really kept this from me a lot longer than I thought.”

“But you handled it like a champ.”

“I better get packing,” I said and found myself out the door before dad could really say anything more. Elain was no longer in the entryway when I stepped outside and I managed to avoid her on my way to my room. I noticed a stack of boxes and packing tape had been conveniently left in one corner of my relatively plain living space.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Tamlin.

Are you busy right now?

A few minutes went by before the subtle ping! alerted me to his reply.

Sort of, why?

As the fates would have it they’ve chosen this weekend for my family to make an impromptu move.

You’re shitting me, right? You’re actually moving?

Knowing Tamlin’s house was just as large and important as Lucien’s and that he counted appearances as having some kind of value to every Dean of Admissions in America, I sent the next text with a heavy heart.

Yeah dad sort of lost the house

Damn.

Yeah that’s what I thought but we’ll make it work. Could you help us with it though? I know its only a few days away but with Nesta around and this huge house to box up I know dad and I would appresiate the extra help.

Yeah, totally! Anything for you, Fey.

Thanks :)

Love you.

Love you too xx

I let my phone hit the floor as I fell on my bed with a huge sigh.

I could do this.

xx

#beneath the stars #bts: a feysand fic #myfic #acomaf #feysand #feyre #rhysand #nessian #moriel

[3one3]

The Sequel - 829

Eeny, Meeny

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“I have until like 2, so I would like to go shopping somewhere- I’m desperate for shopping. I haven’t bought anything but food and diapers in forever- and then take a nap. Also I would like for someone to remind me later tonight when I say I want to wake up extra super duper early to ride on the beach in the morning, that I in fact do not want to do that again. No, no, no, no, no. Nein. Nuhuh.”

“To be fair, you don’t compete until after 10:30 tomorrow morning, so you could do it without having to wake up that early.”

“Stef rides at 8 though.”

“Never mind. Go do the shopping, then. Make sure to have something for lunch.”

“Yes, Dad.”

The Jumping International de France event in La Baule had a few things going for it, in Christina’s opinion, that set it apart from other Nations Cup qualifier venues in Europe’s Division I. The CSIO5* show took place at a permanent equestrian center, with permanent stabling. Most of it was shed row style but the Nations Cup teams were in an annex building with central aisles, so it was quite comfortable. The show ring was grass, and enormous, and featured a small hill with two step-down jumps. The schooling ring was dirt and enormous, and very close to the stabling. Most uniquely, the venue offered riders two different opportunities to ride in water. It was just a few blocks from the beach, and the Atlantic Ocean. Anyone with a horse well behaved enough to follow the established walk through the city streets down to the surf could enjoy the beach until 10 every morning. That was a novelty offered to members of the equestrian club year-round, and tourists too. Riders competing in the 5* classes would also get to ride through water on course in the Nations Cup, Derby, and Grand Prix. There was a 35’-ish tract of shallow water to pass through between regular fences. Christina had been to La Baule before and so some of her horses were familiar with that test, but she had Socks and Calvin with her and neither of them had ever been through that sort of water before. She took Socks to the beach to get familiar with the idea on the first morning, and considered taking Calvin over on the second. It just meant waking up really, really early, and at 9:30 in the morning on the first day she was already feeling tired.

The individuality of the La Baule event mattered for one reason: it wasn’t boring. Christina was happy to be there once she arrived. Meeting up with her Germany teammates and her coaches was actually nice. Lukas and Espen weren’t there with her, but she wasn’t lonely because there was actually a sense of the existence of a team mentality right off the bat. The Nations Cup team for the French event consisted of Daniel, Marcus, Christian, and Marco in addition to Christina. Christian wasn’t so harsh to her face anymore, thanks in large part, she believed, because her success were undeniable and couldn’t be bought in the form of great horses. Marco was still just a colleague, not a friend, but one that she was getting to know more all the time. He was perfectly nice, and content to defer on some things to his more experienced teammates. He’d been competing a lot longer than she had, but not as part of the top Germany squad. It was unlikely that Heiner and Holger would select him to actually ride. Stefanie was there with Julian for the Under-25 classes. Heiner took “the girls” to dinner on Wednesday night and got them a little drunk, which didn’t help with the whole wake up very early to ride on the beach thing but did help set a nice tone for the show week.

“Should we change first or just go to the avenue with the stores?” Stefanie asked while Christina gave Dirk nose kisses on the crossties in one of their stalls. The King Of The Barn was there to compete for his country in the Nations Cup, and his rider was very into that. There was a derby on the undercard, which normally would have been a Dirk class. Christina thought it more important to do the Nations Cup with him and continue his legacy as a great team horse, and she didn’t want to over-jump him and make him do the derby too coming off his little injury. She bravely put Calvin in it instead, and had low expectations for success and high expectations for hilarity. Her attitude was that it didn’t matter if they didn’t do well, that it would be a good learning experience for him, and that it might be really fun and/or funny to try to get him around the extra-long and extra-difficult derby course. Heiner said he liked that- that she thought the still young and still dopey Hanoverian stallion would find cantering through water and jumping off hills challenging and potentially terrifying, and that she would enjoy whatever antics ensued as a result. It took the drinks at dinner to get her to explain that attitude. The story she gave Holger, the horse’s owner, was about how well prepared Calvin was for a derby class because he loved to gallop out at home and jump natural obstacles. She hoped he hadn’t forgotten about that since moving to Germany, away from the field and the natural obstacles.

“Let’s just go. I need coffee on the way. Can we walk there or do we need to get a cab or an Uber or something?”

“It’s raining. Why would we walk? Get coffee in the gourmet village and I’ll get a car to meet us on the street behind there.”

“Mkay. You have the rest of the day off, bro,” Christina told her favorite Holsteiner. “Enjoy your blanky and your hay and stuff and I’ll bring you something nice later.”

“I like presents too,” Tom interjected. He was drying the horse’s legs. She patted his head and tried to look a certain kind of way while strutting out of the stall, but then tripped on the lip between the stall and the concrete aisle. Everyone, including the horse, laughed at her.

Shopping tiiiime, she sang to herself once she zipped her team jacket on in place of the show coat and down vest she’d had on since she finished her second round of the morning. What’s boyfriend doing, she wondered, liberating her phone from the pocket she forgot it in earlier. The temperature was in the 50’s when she left the hotel to get her horse and go to the beach, and it rose to about 60 since then, but also grew damp and drizzly, so the Germany star had been changing layers constantly to adapt to the conditions and the level of physical activity she did in them. There was a text from a Chelsea midfielder on her phone that couldn’t keep up with the wardrobe changes.

“What time is your qualifying competition this afternoon? I want to watch on the train to West Brom,” he told her with the train emoji. He’d only just sent it.

“It starts at 1:45 your time, so you’ll probably still be on the training pitch. It’s nothing that special anyway. Watch the Nations Cup tomorrow while you’re sitting around getting nervous about THE TITLE WINNING MATCH.” It’s not possible to make him nervous, Christina smiled to herself, falling into step with Stefanie. The two girls were going shopping in white breeches, knee socks, and sneakers. One wore black and white Chelsea socks, and the other wore the stocking variety. The West London club was three points from the Premier League title and the one in the tributary hosiery was practically giddy about it. The team put in a professional but swaggering performance on Monday evening to relegate Middlesborough, and fans everywhere couldn’t wait for Friday. Their biggest fan in the German show jumping team warned everyone that if they won the Nations Cup that afternoon and wanted to celebrate a little that evening, they’d have to do it without her. She had an appointment with the TV in her hotel room.

“I will. I’m trying to keep that off my mind. You better help with that tonight. I’m counting on you cariña.”

“Moviefone once you get settled in the hotel for the night? I have team dinner but we’re ahead of you.” Juan’s best girlfriend knew he was teasing her. He didn’t get nervous that far ahead of playing. He got pumped during warm ups, and he could become a little ball of Spanish nerves on the pitch during crucial moments, like penalty shootouts, but not the night before. Nevertheless, Christina wanted to spend bedtime with him, virtually at least, to make sure he went to sleep feeling relaxed and ready.

“Yes. What are you doing? Have you ridden yet today? I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“I’ll get the coffee since you bought breakfast,” Stefanie offered as they neared the tent in the gourmet village- a small section of exhibitor tents set off the main drag of regular horse show shopping. There was an extremely Parisian bakery tent with way more coffee options than were available in the rider’s restaurant. The 5* riders were entitled to free breakfast at the hotel, lunch in the rider’s restaurant, and dinner in another nicer restaurant at the show facility. The U25 riders were not. The girls got smoothies from the continental buffet at the hotel after their workout, and then Christina sprang for baked goodies between the beach ride and her morning class. She felt sad going back to the tent for just coffee instead of coffee and another delicious Nutella croissant.

“I did Cal and Dirk in a little warm up class already, and we rode Socks and Jules on the beach at sun up. I made an Instagram story. What do you do in bed before getting up besides look at social media? That’s all I do.”

“I think about what I’m going to eat when I get to Cobham.”

“Cafe au lait again or something different?”

“Nah I need it with espresso this time or I’ll run out of battery.”

“Un grand crème, s’il vous plait, avec le lait à part...and...un café noir,” Stefanie shrugged to the lady behind the domed platters of fresh baked treats. She then went back to looking at her phone, like her coach, to get them a ride to the city center for shopping purposes. Her coach was actually glaring at her, jealous of her knowledge of the French language.

“Since when do you drink black coffee?”

“I don’t. I asked for a double espresso for you with the steamed milk on the side so you don’t end up with way too much. I just want a few drops in mine, so we can share.”

“Mkay.”

“If you win tomorrow, will Conte play the kids on Monday and let you guys stay home?”

“Yes but probably me too because I missed so many games. I would go down there to see you if I could.”

“I just wish we didn’t have to wait until Cannes.” Especially because Cannes might be super weird, Christina thought, leaving the coffee conversation aside and allowing herself to feel sad about how much she missed her ex-boyfriend. She hoped he might be available to come to the horse show on Saturday night and hang with her throughout Sunday. Her own packed schedule dictated that she had to go home Sunday night so that she could have some time there with her husband and her son and her other horses before heading to Madrid on Thursday for the next round of the Tour. After that, it was just one full day at home and then on to another round in Hamburg, which André would probably be able to attend for a day or two if he still couldn’t train. Even if he could go, it would only be for the beginning of the event, during the non-consequential classes, because his team would play their cup final on Saturday in Berlin and he wanted to be there whether he could play or not. Christina would be home for two and a half days after Hamburg, and then travel to St. Gallen for her second Nations Cup qualifier of the season. She’d get a couple of days at home before then heading to Cannes for the Tour. The plan was for Juan to be there with her for 5 days, on the boat.

The wait was far too long for her, firstly, and she didn’t know how exactly to explain to the Lilly XO crew that she was spending the better part of a week with Juan, sharing the same bed, being affectionate, and then say goodbye to the Spaniard and hello to her husband and son, who were spending the next week with her on the boat. Obviously their employment contracts demanded their silence on such matters, but the rider feared their judging looks. The situation actually seemed completely impossible. The choice was to try to hide the nature of her relationship with Juan and thus not fully enjoy the experience, to actually explain it to the chief stewardess and assume she would explain it to everyone else onboard but not go sell the story to the media, or carry on however she wanted and just not address the appearance of an affair at all. She cringed uncontrollably at the thought of the looks she’d get from the crewmembers when they saw her sitting in André’s lap or something a few days after they watched her do the same with another guy.

“Come here Sun night. Even if I play Mon, the manager will probably allow us to sleep home. Night time kickoff, meaningless match. Stay just the night.”

“Maybe.”

Christina had to put the text chat on hold to assemble her coffee and get in the taxi to the shops. She was most interested in the Lacoste store, and buying a polo shirtdress. They were a staple of her wardrobe when she was a little kid, and for some reason were staging a comeback in her mind. Also, she was determined to play more tennis despite no longer having her own court. André joked that she should have made better use of the one they had, and his joke fell flat. His wife reminded him that she wasn’t the one who wanted to leave her tennis court behind in the first place. She also reminded him that Juan had a tennis court. That went over about as well with him as his joke did with her.

He was waiting for her to call home on Thursday morning. They discussed her plan to work out and ride on the beach, and he knew she had a class at 8, so it didn’t surprise him that Christina hadn’t called yet at 10 when he left for training. It was going to be day-two of individual training for him, and that was great. He was out of the gym and off the treatment table and back on the pitch instead. It felt great. Getting to do some work with the ball felt great. The possibility that he could play some role in the cup final felt great. What didn’t feel so great was knowing what Christina’s schedule looked like for the coming weeks. She was taking Lukas away with her for some of it too. And then there was the whole holiday with Juan in the south of France thing. That really rubbed him the wrong way. André told her so, but he also told her that he accepted that she wanted some time to see her friend. She invited him too. If he wasn’t going to be with the Germany squad for the pre-tournament camp, he was invited to Cannes. It was pretty obvious that joining his girl and his ex-teammate would be weird for everyone, and perhaps even more so than what she was envisioning with the guys being there separately. There were questions, like if they were all going to hook up again, or if he would be expected to stand by why they cuddled on the top deck or shared a kiss in the water or something. He wasn’t entirely sure what it would all look like, in part because he stopped asking what went on when Christina visited her best friend. It was more palatable to just let them go on their own, for at least part of the week. That left him with a month of very little face time with her. He tried to Face Time her on his way to Brackel. The rider declined the call and then rang him back normally.

“Mooooorning,” she greeted him cheerfully. “I’m just getting out of a cab and it’s raining and my phone is safer in my hood by my ear than if I hold it in front of me. Watcha doin?”

“Driving. Did you ride yet?”

“Yeah, it was fine. How’s Lulu Schü?”

“He had his first poached egg today. Not made by me, obviously.”

“Did he like it?”

“He likes everything.”

“Does your ankle hurt?”

“No. Does yours?”

“Always.”

“How are the horses? Are they behaving?”

“They’re good. I miss you.”

This is why her showing sucks, André sighed with disappointment inside after hearing Christina switch from giving a conversational update to making an unhappy plea. She said she missed him as if she wanted him to be there with her- like it was serious, and not some throwaway “I miss you”. Sunday night she starts crying because all she wants is to feel the way she used to, which she can’t even explain but apparently hinges entirely on me but not in any way I can actually control because it’s just some subliminal effect I have on her, we spend every minute together possible after that and she says it makes her start to feel better, and then she goes away. We’ll have to go back some steps. It goes backward when we don’t see each other enough. I hope it’s like it used to be, and it’s okay, and that our problems before were just because we were apart so much for so long. We used to be fine when she had shows. It was hard to be apart but we didn’t have to re-establish our relationship together each time she came home. Being apart for 5 days didn’t damage how we relate to one another. That’s got to stop.

“Get out of your head, Prinzessin. Don’t think so much. You’re going to have all sorts of fun with your horses and your friends and you have to experience that when it happens instead of missing out on it because you’re thinking about how you want to feel. When we made everything okay for each other, that was true no matter where we were, apart or together. You were still calm and all right at your horse shows without me and I was still calm and good at home without you. We’ll get back to that.”

Wasn’t his whole argument for what was wrong between us for most of the last year that we can’t be okay when we’re not together? He’s so...hypocritical lately, Christina reasoned while hopping over puddles behind Stefanie to get to the protection of an awning over the front of a shoe boutique. Every problem is something to do with my career and definitely not something between us, and now we’re fine when we’re apart? I don’t even think he’s this way deliberately. I think he’s so busy trying to find an answer that makes everything okay and nothing to worry about that he doesn’t bother to actually examine the situation and find the RIGHT answer.

“Chris?”

“Yeah.” And yet, it was working for him earlier this week, the equestrian countered herself. We had a few days together that almost felt normal- like the “olden days”. I was so upset on Sunday because it’s like...It’s like I’m never going to feel the way I did when I last really loved my life. Or like I’m never going to get back to true north or something. I’m always lost, and unsettled. And I told him about it and he actually did make me feel better. It wasn’t anything he said, or did. I just cried on him and then when I stopped, it was better. Maybe it’s not even him. Maybe I have to purge the unsettled-ness from myself. How long does it take to cry out a year of bad feelings? I’ve tried sweating it out. That doesn’t wor-

“What are you doing?”

“Um, shoe shopping? I just got inside.”

“Okay...”

“I’m fine. I- I was just- I miss you, is all. You sounded...I don’t know, some way, when you asked if the horses are behaving, and I had like a rush of missing you.”

“I’m here.”

“I know, babe.”

“What sort of shoes?”

“Uhhdunno.” Christina turned around and looked up to survey the shoes on the walls and on some tables around the store. The selection included a mix of trendy and classic styles, with no obvious theme. Her student was already browsing in the casual sandal section. “All kinds?”

“Get some slutty stilettos for when you come home.”

“K. Let me go. I have a coffee I really want to enjoy, and Stef’s holding a hideous espadrille. I must go talk her into putting it down.”

“Have fun, Prinzessin. Love you.”

“Love you, byyyye.”  

“I don’t want to get up,” was the message waiting for her from Juan. She rolled her eyes and started to write back that he was a lazy bum. Instead of finishing the thought, she deleted it and told him she wished she could be a lazy bum with him. This horse show would be amazing if I could take a break between classes to drink delicious coffee like this in bed with Juanin and do nothing. Actually, what would be amazing is if someone could tell me why Schü can ask a joking question and make me desperately wish I were home with him and looking at his dopey face, and then a minute later I’m dying to go snuggle with Juanin and espresso and milk. That would be amazing. A guide to my own brain. It would be wonderful.

“Chris, do you like these sandals?”

“No.”

#hello to you if you somehow wandered in here