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frankiefellinlove · 3 years ago

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THE STEVIE FILES PROUDLY PRESENTS - THE AMAZING ROCK & ROLL ODYSSEY OF STEVEN VAN ZANDT

From The Source to Soulfire via Springsteen and Sam & Dave

Recorded, transcribed, edited, written, produced, mixed and mastered by MIKE SAUNDERS

SIDE TWO (1975-1983)

Track 6: Miami Steve, The Asbury Jukes, Tenth Avenue and Hammersmith

In early 1975, Steven returned to New Jersey from Florida, inappropriately dressed for the winter weather. “I came back with the flowered shirts and the Sam Snead hat and continued wearing them in the snow.” For the next seven years, he was known as Miami Steve. He joined Southside in the Blackberry Booze Band and within weeks they’d altered and expanded its line-up (adding keyboard player Kevin Kavanaugh from Middletown and bass player Alan Berger from The Dovells’ backing band), transformed its musical direction, changed its name to Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes (referencing their mutual hero Little Walter’s band and first single release) and established a successful three-nights-a-week, five-sets-a-night residency at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park.

“Just before that, me, Southside, Bruce and Garry went to see Sam & Dave. A life-changing moment. So me and Southside basically decided we were gonna be the white Sam & Dave, with rock guitar. So the horns came in and although we didn’t know it, we would change the entire concept of what a bar band sounded like and the respect a bar band would get by making it creative, soul meets rock. ‘Bar band’ was an insult. ‘You’re a bar band,’ which means you can’t make it in the real music world. After the Jukes, they started using ‘bar band’ in reviews and they meant it as a compliment, with Graham Parker and Elvis Costello and Mink DeVille. We changed the way people thought about these things.”

The Miami Horns were a vital component of the new band. Steven composed the horn arrangements, but although he’s always possessed a natural ability to imagine horn parts, he doesn’t read or write music (“never have”) and has always required a little help from his friends to transcribe them. “I have people write ‘em down, to this day. I like that actually. You have to do a lotta things yourself so any excuse I find to collaborate I do it. I find other people will bring something to the party usually. That’s why [I’ve] used Eddie Manion for I don’t know how many years. He knows how I like to voice things. Once I think of something and create the parts, I get bored if I have to voice every part, exactly right. If I hear a voicing I don’t like, I will change it, but I get bored by the mechanics of everything.”

While the Jukes were building their reputation and growing their audience, Bruce invited Steven to hang out at the Born To Run sessions in New York, where he was working on “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” David Sanborn and The Brecker Brothers had been hired to play the horn parts, but Steven created a spontaneous new arrangement. He’s told this anecdote countless times, but I ask him to repeat it because it provides perfect examples of his innate musical talents in action (“I can hear the parts, who knows why?”), the nature of his friendship with Bruce (“I still am the only human being not afraid of him”), and his no-bullshit attitude (“I didn’t know anything about diplomacy”).

“So he says, ‘Whaddya think?’ I said, ‘It sucks, that’s what I think!’ I didn’t know how uptight everybody was. I didn’t give a fuck either. The managers and producers were all afraid of him already. He asked me a question, I’m gonna be honest. I’m trying to help my friend here, not make points with some fucking record company guy. Moment of silence. ‘He just said it sucks, which means we all suck.’ Bruce [says] ‘Alright then, go in and fucking fix it.’ So I did. I went in and sang the [new] parts. I didn’t know they were the most famous [session] guys in New York. It wasn’t insulting them, the chart was ridiculous. That was my thing, just from the Jukes being around maybe six months.”

“I wasn’t really feeling the pressure that Bruce was at the time. I didn’t realise his life depended on this album. His first two records hadn’t done very well. They wanted to drop him. I don’t know how aware I was of any of that. He invited me into the session and I’m laying on the floor. All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Soon after making his instinctive artistic contribution (and singing backing vocals on “Thunder Road”), Steven was invited to join the E Street Band. It was a chance to complete the circle, play with his old friend again and settle any unfinished business from three summers earlier, when he’d been sent packing at the Greetings sessions. He made his live debut on the opening night of the Born To Run tour, which ran until New Year’s Eve. His input and influence over the next decade, onstage and off, would prove invaluable. (Bruce even began playing The Dovells’ “You Can’t Sit Down” as an occasional encore). In the fall, the tour took everyone to Europe for the first time, where the culture shock was off the charts. “There was no hamburgers, no peanut butter. The only place you could get a hamburger in the whole of Europe was the newly-opened first Hard Rock Café. There was a line around the block even then.”

Culinary deficiencies aside, Bruce also had to endure the overblown hype surrounding his first UK gigs at London’s Hammersmith Odeon, where Columbia had displayed the legend “Finally London Is Ready For Bruce Springsteen” on every available surface prior to his arrival. “[It was] completely obnoxious,” says Steven. “[Bruce] spent half the time ripping down posters. It was an embarrassing time for him, between that and Time and Newsweek. He didn’t like that stuff. You wanna be in charge of your life, that’s why we get into rock ‘n’ roll. Suddenly it was slipping out of his control. We made the mistake of playing a place with seats. It just made the show that much harder. But by the end, we got ‘em outta the seats. We went to Amsterdam, Stockholm, and back to London. The second one was a bit easier.” The experience had a prolonged effect on Bruce. “He was uptight in those days and would remain so through Darkness into The River, until he asked me to produce the record and we found a way to have some fun.”

Track 7: Epic Records, Steve Popovich and The Stone Pony

Back on the shore, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes continued the Stone Pony residency throughout 1975, gradually consolidating their line-up. For the next three years, between Springsteen commitments, Steven worked as their producer, arranger, manager, part-time guitarist and principal songwriter. In early 1976, after circulating a demo tape, they signed a recording deal with Epic, with assistance from Steve Popovich, the label’s Vice-President of A&R. “I Don’t Want To Go Home,” the song that Steven had kept in his back pocket since his days on the oldies circuit, became the title track of their debut album and their first single. Ben E King’s loss was Southside’s gain.

“I produced [the song] in a way which was appropriate for the Jukes. They didn’t have a big background vocal thing going on,” explains Steven. “I was very conscious of being able to try and do most of it live, although I put strings on it, on my very first production! There was no synthesiser in those days that could play strings. That’s why I re-cut it [on Soulfire] the original way I pictured it, with the singer and background vocals answering. That idea of writing for someone else is extremely important, critical and essential. It changes the way you write completely, from when you think of writing for yourself, which is extraordinarily complicated and confusing. It’s not easy, but easier, to write for someone else. There’s their identity in your mind at least. I’m writing them a song. That’s a wonderful exercise for songwriters.” I Don’t Want To Go Home was released in the summer of 1976 (“I’ve never received one penny of royalties, but whatever!”). The Jukes later began their first national tour and made their European debut in 1977.

Recommended by Bruce, Steve Popovich was one of a kind. “The last of the real music guys in the business. The only other person I can compare him to would be Lance Freed on the publishing side, who’s unique. He’s actually into music and songwriting and the things you’re supposed to be into when you have a job description like that. And Frank Barsalona, the only agent who really did his job and would set the standard for everybody to follow. Those three guys, really quite historic. [It was] Popovich’s idea to launch the record with a broadcast from the Stone Pony. Never been done before. Popovich loved the local scene idea and he largely made it happen. It never would have been recognised nationally, I don’t think, if it hadn’t been for Popovich, who had the vision to say it’s cool if you’re not from New York. Rather than being embarrassed if you’re not from New York, LA or Nashville, it’s actually cool.”

Track 8: Production Credits and Political Awakening

Steven developed his talents as a producer and songwriter with the Jukes in the late 70s, following I Don’t Want To Go Home with This Time It’s For Real and Hearts Of Stone. Successive releases featured greater quantities of his original material, which included “I Played The Fool,” “This Time Baby’s Gone For Good,” “Take It Inside” and “Some Things Just Don’t Change,” apparently written for another of his heroes, David Ruffin of The Temptations. During this period, he also produced the “Say Goodbye To Hollywood” single for Ronnie Spector and the E Street Band and provided production assistance on Darkness On The Edge Of Town. His relationship with the Jukes ended when they left Epic for Mercury in 1979 and he went on to co-produce The River and two comeback albums for Gary US Bonds, Dedication and On The Line. It was an impressive fast-track apprenticeship. Steven had no production experience when he began. He acquired the skills and learned from his mistakes in the studio. “That’s why all three Jukes albums are different,” he says. “By the time we did The River, I knew what I wanted to do. I got it all down by then. That’s how I tend to do things. I can picture what I want. Jump in, do it, let’s see what happens.”

Steven also kept his promise to himself to bring his musical heroes out of obscurity, initially as guests on the first two Jukes albums. “I did what I could, but I wanted to do so much more,” he admits. “First time I get in a studio, got Lee Dorsey out from under a car, where he’s a mechanic. Got Ronnie Spector out of retirement. Second album, we reunited The Coasters, Drifters and Five Satins. Me and Bruce worked with Gary Bonds. We got Ben E King and Chuck Jackson on that record. Those artists had a talent level noticeably above everybody that followed. I wish I’d been insistent on doing more of them. In those [early] days, you actually had to have talent to make records. You had to be able to sing a song, beginning to end, perfectly in tune, perfectly the right melody, and if you fuck up one word, you gotta do the whole thing again. Couldn’t do enough for those people, they were so much fun to produce.”

In addition to his studio accomplishments, Steven played more than 300 shows with Bruce and the E Street Band between 1976 and 1981, primarily on the Darkness On The Edge Of Town and River tours. The majority took place in North America, but the River tour included a European leg that took the band away from home and out of their comfort zone for nine weeks. Much longer than their previous visit in 1975, it was their first significant experience of foreign countries, languages, cultures and political perspectives. They received rave reviews wherever they played, but Steven gradually became aware that not all Europeans viewed the United States in a favourable light.

One particular encounter was pivotal in dramatically reshaping Steven’s worldview. “A kid asked me, ‘Why are you putting missiles in my country?’ I said, ‘I’m not, I’m a guitar player.’ I realised, for the first time in my life, at the age of 30 I’m embarrassed to say, that I’m an American. What the fuck does that mean? I managed to grow up in the middle of civil rights, the Vietnam War, demonstrations about every fucking thing and had no interest in any of it. Amazing when you think about it. Redefining tunnel vision. Suddenly, the tunnel is gone. We’re now successful. Who would have ever figured that would happen, right? Now it’s like, uh-oh, what did I miss, the last 20 years?”

Track 9: Men Without Women, Motown and Mixing In Mono

This revelation accelerated Steven’s growing political awareness, one of two important developments in 1981 that would change the course of his life forever. The second came when he returned from Europe and was approached by EMI America about making a solo album. Having spent six years producing and writing for others, he welcomed the opportunity to have his own creative outlet, which soon expanded into a separate career. In the fall, he enlisted musicians from the E Street Band and the Asbury Jukes to record most of the material for his debut album, Men Without Women, using his established rock-meets-soul sonic blueprint. Including “Lyin’ In A Bed Of Fire,” “Princess Of Little Italy,” “Angel Eyes” and “Until The Good Is Gone,” it remains an undisputed career highlight for Van Zandt devotees, but Steven feels that an outside producer might have helped him make a more commercial record.

“Conventional wisdom is you never should produce yourself and I have to say that’s correct. The only exception I can think of in the history of the business was Prince, who was an extraordinary genius, but other than him, I don’t know anybody who successfully produces themselves.” Describing himself as “extremely schizophrenic, I’m twelve different people, never mind two,” Steven explains how his inner producer failed to control the whims of his inner artist. “Without knowing it, the artist takes over. I was into this extreme naturalism, no logical reason why. I did the whole album live in one day. Came back the second day, did it again, beginning to end. Couple overdubs, that was it. There’s one guitar. The horns aren’t doubled. Nothing’s doubled. Bruce did all the harmony on that record but we couldn’t use his name. We [did] a similar thing with Born In The USA, where we just recorded live in the studio.”

“I made Bob Clearmountain mix ‘Forever’ in mono, to try and achieve the perfect Motown record. It’s never gonna be exact and it shouldn’t be exact, why should it be, but I wanted to capture a Smokey Robinson Motown record. The only way I could do that in my mind was to make it completely mono. He was so good in those days. I mean Bob’s still the best, but in those days he was beyond the best. He was something else when it came down to that Neve board that wasn’t automated, and he’s feelin’ those faders. I made him do something he’d never done before, which requires a whole different way of thinking. You’re now thinking depth-wise and vertically, not horizontally.”

“That’s where my head was at. Can I achieve the emotional communication that my heroes had provided me? My heroes being Motown in general, 10 acts there. Or my heroes at Chess, another 10 acts. Sam Phillips did ‘Rocket 88’ for Ike Turner (Jackie Brenston) and ‘How Many More Years’ for Howlin’ Wolf, three years before Elvis Presley. Unbelievable genius. [I’m] trying to achieve that level of quality in my own world, in my own little bubble, which has these ridiculously high standards. I’m absorbing the 50s and 60s and then trying to integrate them in my head and reproduce them in my own way, not the least bit interested in what’s going on in the 70s or 80s certainly, because it was shit to me, comparatively. An interesting moment here and there. Punk was certainly interesting. But mostly it’s all coming from what I call the renaissance period, ‘51 to ‘71, where it all was created. And that’s true to this day. That’s all I was interested in and that was enough for 10 lifetimes. I didn’t need another bit of input after 1972.”

Track 10: Little Steven, Little Richard and Bob Dylan

In 1982, after recording with Bruce and Gary US Bonds, Steven completed his album, formed the Disciples of Soul (which included Dino Danelli from The Rascals on drums, Jean Beauvoir on bass and Eddie Manion, Mark Pender, Stan Harrison and La Bamba on horns) and played a debut concert at New York’s Peppermint Lounge. Released in October, a month after Nebraska, Men Without Women preceded his first national tour and was credited to his new professional name of Little Steven, which would be used for all future solo activities. “I just wanted separation [from] being the sideman,” he explains. “Each of my personalities required a different name, in order to keep it straight in people’s heads and my own head.” The name referenced his early heroes Little Walter, Little Anthony and Little Richard. In his role as an ordained minister, the latter officiated at Steven’s wedding to Maureen Santoro in New York on New Year’s Eve. Percy Sledge sang “When A Man Loves A Woman” as they walked down the aisle and the reception included performances from Gary US Bonds, Little Milton, The Chambers Brothers and the wedding band from The Godfather. “Little Anthony was doing a cruise at the time or he would have been there.”

“All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Steven toured internationally in 1983, then dropped the horns, adopted a more contemporary rock sound and made his second album, Voice Of America. It was an explicitly political record that featured “Solidarity,” “I Am A Patriot,” “Out Of The Darkness,” “Los Desaparecidos” and “Undefeated.” Triggered by his River tour experiences in Europe, this radical transformation was completed with a long period of self-education. “I read every book about post World War Two [US] foreign policy. [It was] shocking how often we were on the wrong side. All of these bad things were happening behind the scenes and nobody was talking about them. No political consciousness whatsoever in the country. I decided I have an obligation to say something about this stuff that we’re all paying for with our taxes.”

“Being conscious of the fact that everybody needs their own identity, I figured who the hell needs another love song from a fucking sideman? I’ll be the political guy. Nobody else is doing it. There were people demonstrating of course. Jackson Browne, John Hall, Bonnie Raitt, Graham Nash, those guys. The Grateful Dead were doing a benefit every week, but rarely did it end up in the work. In general, people weren’t putting much politics into the lyrics of their songs.” For artists with commercial aspirations, he concedes, that’s a smart move. “Jefferson Airplane being an exception with ‘Volunteers.’ Big exception, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, with Neil Young’s ‘Ohio.’”

Steven contends that Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” introduced the idea of political consciousness in rock ‘n’ roll. “His first electric song. It’s not given enough credit. The first sentence from Bob Dylan’s electric period, ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine, I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ What? You’re doing what? You’re thinking about the government? Excuse me? Who does that? Whoever did that before, in a song, no less? There in that one sentence, Bob Dylan communicated what his entire career was gonna be about, which was having fun with language, with inference, symbolism, metaphor and nonsense lyrics that rhymed. ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine,’ what does that mean? It means whatever you want it to mean, right? Then ‘I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ Holy shit! You mean we’re supposed to figure out the government? That, to me, is the most important sentence in all the history of rock ‘n’ roll, right there.”

All photos below by Mike Saunders

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letfatewritethewords · 3 years ago

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I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.

#lonliness #abuse survivor #survivor #domestic violent relationships #domestic violence #processing

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starlight-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

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hello, can i do one of the song request things you wrote about a bit ago? she/her pronouns, with dream, and based on the song 'daisies' by ryan caraveo? also, if you're doing an anon list, can i be 🧿 anon?

welcome 🧿 anon ! i just have to say ,,,,,, this song is immaculate ?? so good ?? will be added to my playlist ?? the concept of this song works perfectly for a fic - i love it so much . thank u for requesting and i really hope u enjoy ((((:

daisies - ryan caraveo

AYO LOOK AT THESE : 2.3k wc , so much fluff ur gonna puke , but nothing other than that . reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

xoxoxo , starlight

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

she earned her grades and i finessed mine

but not so obvious, a c minus is just fine //

she planned for college, i schemed and plotted

---

her friends are pretty, my friends are goonies

but maybe it could all work out like in the movies

---

she like daisies, i'm like gloom

without my rain, she couldn't bloom

she need me, i need her, too

☁ ☁ ☁

you and clay (or dream, really. everyone in his life called him that except for you; it was a nickname he couldn't seem to rid himself of) couldn’t have been more different- and yet, the sandy blonde boy had managed to work his way into your head and wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. every time he touched you, whether it was accidental or on purpose, you felt your entire body go up in hot, white flames. your nervous system seemed to light up around him; even the sound of his voice made your heart skip and stutter. when you thought about him, the world didn’t seem so dark anymore.

when you moved to florida at the beginning of the semester, you’d made yourself a promise: no boys. no hookups, no flings, no situationships. you’d been hurt too many times, and you weren’t in the market to put yourself back out there. and then you met clay.

the two of you were dead opposites. he lovingly described himself as a stereotypical ‘teenage dirtbag’: a lowlife kid who’d struggled through school and had a shitty home life, but has somehow made it into college. he cheated on all his tests and didn’t do assignments; he’d rather skate all his problems away, surrounded by the pack of slobbering boys he called his friends. his idea of a good time was running from the cops. clay was everything that you weren't- carefree, blissfully clueless, and entirely too calm for his own good.

your whole life you’d been the ‘good girl’: straight laced and perfectly dressed, an academic superstar and all around teachers pet. you came from a happy middle-class home, and your parents kept up with you in a family groupchat. you’d done just the right amount of extracurriculars to rise above everyone else in your class, but not enough to make you look pretentious, and spent most of your time volunteering. on the off chance that you had an ounce of spare time, you wouldn’t be caught dead at a house party; no, no, you were practicing piano.

your friendship made no sense, and yet, here you were.

being clay’s friend meant you were never bored. even while he was living through hell at home, he was funny and sweet and brave. he was the first to get you two into trouble and the one to talk you out of it. he was spontaneous and alive and had a good taste in music. once you started to notice the light he got in his eyes as he flew down hills on his skateboard, the way he laughed so hard his voice would dissolve into silence, or the way he would suck on his straw after getting slurpees, you couldn’t stop. then you started to notice every perfect thing about him and it only made it hurt that much worse when he would cry. you started doing anything and everything you could to protect that light in his eyes, to make sure no more tears would ever fall from them.

but you didn’t want to be clay’s friend anymore- you wanted him, in every sense of the word. you wanted all his time and attention and love and affection. you wanted to be that one that made him smile that stupid, crooked smile of his, and make him laugh until he couldn’t breathe. you wanted clay to look at you the way he looked at life- like a challenge, a puzzle that he wouldn’t stop messing with until it was solved. you wanted to call the lanky, troublemaking boy yours, to take him somewhere where he would never hurt again and love him until he wasn’t broken anymore. against all odds you had fallen for clay, hard, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to get up.

little did you know, clay was feeling the same way.

☁ ☁ ☁

it wasn’t odd for clay to just show up at your dorm. it was pretty common, really. he seemed to pop in more and more these days, sometimes with friends, sometimes without. you’d more or less been adopted by the group of boys; as far as you’d been told, they had all been friends since childhood. growing up together, the clan had earned the name ‘feral boys’- one that you didn’t want to know the backstory behind. as far as you knew, they were all loud and slightly aggressive but overall sweethearts, and they’d taken you under their wing once it had become painfully obvious that you had no other friends. again, it was an odd pairing; clay, george, alex, nick, karl and… you. but it worked, to say the least.

clay didn’t have any of the other guys with him this time, barging into your room unannounced. you’d been trying to get him to knock for forever, but none of your protests had stuck.

“clay!” you exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. you were sitting in your bed, typing away at a psych paper that had been plaguing you for days. “what if i had been naked?”

he fell onto your bed, shutting your laptop with one of his long arms. “then it would be my lucky day.”

scoffing, you rolled your eyes at him while you prayed that your flushed face wouldn’t betray you. his answer made blood swoosh in your temples, your heart skipping a beat before lapsing into an upbeat sort of rhythm. “yeah, sure- good to see you too. what do you need?”

the blonde boy grinned up at you. “since when do i need a reason to stop by? you like my company,” he boasted. clay wasn’t wrong; you loved every moment that he was around, even the most mundane ones. something about him made you feel more alive.

“are you working on something important?” he asked, his voice taking on an unusual sort of tone.

you lifted a brow at him- clay’s voice very rarely changed from his confident, over easy tone, so when he did, you were going to call him out. “no,” you mused, drawing the vowel out. “why? you seem weird.”

clay’s face morphed and fluctuated before he pulled a tight smile. “you really don't miss anything, do you?”

“nope,” you said brightly, transferring your laptop to the nightstand by your bed. clay was jumpier than usual, shifting his weight and repositioning himself three times before finally sitting up, leaning against your wall. he bumped his knee against yours and the slight, innocent touch sent butterflies out of your stomach, soaring into your chest.

“clay, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice taking on an embarrassingly gentle tone. you realized that he could be having issues at home again and your heart sank- that would explain his odd demeanor. your chest flooded with affection for the boy, your heart achingly soft as you grabbed one of his hands. clay quickly turned your palm over in his, playing with your fingers as he spoke.

“i want to talk to you about something.”

you froze for half a second, swallowing hard. your throat was dry as you opened your mouth to speak again.

“okay. what’s going on?”

biting at his bottom lip, clay’s face flushed with blood. his cheeks took on a rosy sort of pink tone, and he pulled his eyes from yours as he let out a long exhale. he allowed his gaze to settle on the ceiling, tracing the pattern of the old popcorn ceiling with his pupils.

☁ ☁ ☁

you secretly loved moments like this- moments where clay was too preoccupied within his own head to realize that you were staring, studying his face. he was the kind of boy you could only describe as pretty, all high cheekbones and bright eyes framed by long, golden-brown lashes. you stayed like this for a moment longer, drinking him in; you’d be thinking of him like this for weeks. every time you got a chance to look at him like this, you added another mental painting of him to your art gallery. in some paintings, he was surrounded by soft orange light, usually sitting on a curb or the lip of a halfpipe. in others, clay was painted on soft blue tones, shadows reinforcing the hollows of his face.

there was one common thread in all the mental works of him, though: he was never looking back at you. in your mind, clay would only ever see you as a friend- the slightly odd girl that had fallen in with him and his groupies. you truly believed that he only perceived you in small quantities- only ever seeing you when you made a rather good joke or fed him something. the rest of the time- the majority of the time you two spent together- you thought clay seemed so enamored by his own mind, or that he was was too busy doing something else to pay you any attention.

☁ ☁ ☁

clay pulled his mouth to one side, face scrunching up before he dropped your hand, letting it fall on the bed.

“i’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff lately.”

you blinked, then looked back at clay, unsure of what this meant. his whole body seemed to stiffen as you looked over him- he seemed uncomfortable, which never happened. you dropped your gaze to your duvet and busied yourself with tracing over the floral pattern, your mind seemingly exploding with thousands of thoughts per second. you, for the first time in your life, felt strained around clay, and it scared you more than you’d like to quantify.

“oh. what kind of stuff? do you want to… talk about it?”

“yeah. no. not really, but i’m going to make myself do it. this thing- the thing i've been thinking about- if i don't get it out,” he said, stressing the words as if they had some sort of deeper, more intense meaning, “will just… consume me. you know?”

you did, but you weren’t sure if it was in the same way that clay was meaning. “sort of.” clay groaned and tangled his hands in his hair, tugging at the roots before letting his head fall into his palms. he made another frustrated noise then pushed himself up and off of your bed, beginning to pace.

something was glaringly wrong; clay only paced when he couldn’t release in any other way. even so, his pacing was more aggressive than usual, more stomping than stepping. clay was quickly working himself into a hole, and you were watching him spiral. you knew that he would only rile himself up more, past the point of stopping himself now.

pushing yourself to standing, you grabbed one of clay’s wrists- his skin was hot to the touch and you could feel his heartbeat, strong and erratic, thumping under his skin.

“clay-”

his lips were on yours, hot and rough and needy and the slighted bit desperate as he knotted a hand in your hair, the other cupping your jaw. you froze for half a second, shock flooding your system, before kissing clay back even harder. you were entirely overwhelmed and you could feel the sharp spurs of desire cutting through your blood, replacing it with the yearning you’d been suppressing for months. his tongue tangled with yours, quenching the thirst that you’d only been adding to with an ease, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

clay seemed to realize how hot and heavy things had become in a matter of seconds and pulled away, running a thumb over your lips as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“oh?” he asked, his usual cockiness returning with a force. you weren’t able to form words- much less piece together a whole sentence- so you settled for pressing another kiss to his lips, answering him in the only way you knew how

☁ ☁ ☁

the two of you stayed like that for a while, communicating through rough, sugary sweet kisses, hands on hips and chests and necks. after you’d kissed until your lips were sore and you were both out of breath, clay had given you a concerned sort of look.

“was that too much- or too one sided?”

“what? no!”

clay had laughed at the way you’d defended yourself, peppering your face with tender pecks. “so you really do like me, huh?”

“i do. i really do, dream,” you stressed, pressing a kiss to the boys scruffy jaw.

“ew,” he groaned, hitting you with the pillow you’d thrown at him earlier that afternoon. “don’t call me that.”

“why not?”

clay had readjusted, wrapping an arm low around your waist and pulling you to his chest, looking you dead in the eyes. “you’re the only person in my life that calls me clay, you know that? and for some reason, it fits. you and me just… fit. we work. we’re so different that we fit together like a complicated sort of puzzle piece.”

your heart swelled and you looked over clay with pure adoration. “we do seem to work well together.”

“ever since you came into my life, it’s like, i can't function without you. like you’re- you complete me, in a way?”

emotion seemed to drown you, and you pressed another kiss to his lips. “the yin to your yang,” you murmured against his neck, burying your face in his shirt.

“i will break up with you if you say that again,” he said, laughing, but you knew it wasn’t true: your story was just beginning.

#dream #dreamwastaken #dream was taken #dreamfic #dream fic #fluff #fluffy #ask #anon #🧿 anon #request #song requests #song #blurb #fic #college au #thats it lol #love u #starlight-writes-stuff

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softboywriting · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Pack | Mendes Triplets Series | Part Eleven | Peter’s Ending

Summary: You’re a human who has moved in with the Mendes triplets as their newest housemate. You’ll have to learn to navigate life with werewolves, college classes, and your feelings for each guy. [fluff] [peter’s ending] [biting] [light angst] [mates]

Word Count: 5.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

To say you fell in love with Peter when you met him would be an understatement. You think that in all that has happened in your time since moving in, you've always known. Peter is easy to love. He's gentle, soft, always up for talking or sleeping together. You and him have had an unexplainable closeness since day one.

So the day that Peter comes to your room and asks you what you're doing on Saturday night, you aren't surprised. You've been waiting for him to ask you out. You know he's discussed it with Shawn and Raul, and they both know that he has it as bad for you as you do for him. Each boy has a place in your heart, but Peter's is just a bit bigger.

"Saturday is Shawn's game isn't it?" You ask, putting away the laundry you've folded on your bed.

Peter walks in, grabbing some pants from the basket and helping. He always does this. He just falls into a natural rhythm with whatever you're doing. "Yeah, but that's at like six. I was wondering if you want to go out after the game?"

"Go out?"

"Mmhmm. Just us." He passes you a pair of underwear and socks. "I'll let you get those," he mumbles softly.

You hold the underwear up and shake them out deliberately to get his attention. He never wants to help fold your underwear. Of course you can understand that they're obviously much more intimate than a pair of jeans or a sweater. But if he doesn't want to see them, or think about seeing you in them, he shouldn't help you fold your laundry.

"Just us?" You smirk, eyeing him for a reaction. "Why not invite Raul and Shawn?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Because...."

Peter looks over at you and pushes up his glasses. His cheeks are pink with a blush and you know your teasing is getting to him. "Because it's a date."

"A date?" You giggle. "Peter Alexander Mendes, are you asking me on a date?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You don't sound sure."

Peter huffs softly.

"Do you not want to?"

"I do."

"Then say it confidently."

He eyes you. "You're teasing me about it aren't you?"

"I am."

"Stop it."

"No way." You sing song and catch his eye. Something changes in him at that moment and he tackles you, pushing you down on to your stomach so you're face down on the bed full of folded clothes. "Peter!"

"I'll show you not to tease me." Peter climbs over you and tickles your sides and you squirm, squealing under the weight of his body. He stops and pins your wrists down as you start to thrash about, kicking him and flailing your arms wildly. "Be still."

You go limp, body reacting to him naturally. Your heart races, and you feel the familiar warmth of arousal in your stomach. "Peter?"

"Yes?" He growls and you are sure you're going to melt.

"Why are you pinning me down?"

"I-" He releases your wrists and sits up, moving over so you can get up. "I just got a little out of control for a second." He runs a hand over his hair. "I'm sorry. You didn't say that was okay. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay. I liked it." You chew on your lip and look down, afraid to meet his gaze, sure he knows what he's done to you. "And I want to go out with you Saturday."

"You do?"

"Yes, now, can I finish my laundry?"

"Yeah." He scoops an arm full up into the basket. "Sorry I destroyed all the folded stuff."

You crawl off the bed and toss your underwear toward the basket, making them land on Peter's lap accidentally. "Maybe if you weren't so...rough...it wouldn't have happened."

Peter flicks the underwear back at you. "You liked it. Don't act like you didn't."

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

Peter crawls forward and kneels before you, baring his teeth playfully. "Maybe next time I oughta bite you and teach you a real lesson about teasing wolves."

You giggle and boop his nose. "Maybe I'll have to tease you again, just to find out what those teeth of yours are for."

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you down on top of him. "I'll show you right now!" He bites your shoulder gently and you go still in his arms. He releases you and bites again, a slow drag of his teeth over your bare skin where your shoulder and neck meet. "Tell me to stop," he says lowly, needing your consent to continue.

"I won't," you whisper. You never want him to stop. You're so turned on by him it's insane. All he's doing is biting your shoulder. You've got it so bad and it's more than okay with you. It's been a very long time since you felt this good.

Peter bites again, this time it's more like little nibbles than bites on your neck. He quickly soothes them with his tongue. It's too much too quick. You can feel him grow warmer, a growl rising in his chest as he bites and soothes, bites and soothes. You've opened a whole new world to him and he's diving in head first.

"Peter." You say softly, hand going to his hair. He growls and you tug his head back. "Peter, hey."

"Mmmm?"

"You do have to stop. I don't want to either but...we should really have a first date before this."

Peter groans and drops his head back onto the pillows. "You're right. I got too into it, you just make me go crazy and I can't get enough."

You roll off onto your back and he situates himself so he's on his side, hand on your stomach, looking down at you. "I need to go to sleep. I have my last final tomorrow."

"Should I stay?" He asks, fingers lacing with yours as you cover his hand on your stomach. It's not uncommon that you nap together. Peter loves to sleep with you, and you think you know why.

"I'm not sure. Can you keep your hands to yourself?"

Peter chuckles softly. "My hands, maybe. But my teeth? I dunno. I might have some dreams after this evening. I could get bitey and handsy."

"You should go then." You cup his cheek with your free hand and he leans into it. "I have to sleep."

"Alright." Peter closes his eyes. "One last bite?"

"Should I let you?"

"Mmhmm."

"Just one."

Peter crawls over you, arms braced on either side of your head. He ducks down, nosing against your jaw. You tilt your head up and he licks a little along your throat. He's already taking advantage of your agreement. He's taking his sweet time and you are going to stop him.

"Peter." You warn, grabbing his hair and he moans softly into your skin. "You're taking a long time."

"You didn't say I couldn't."

"Don't you start with me."

Peter giggles, full on giggles as he kisses your neck over your pulse point. "But I can't help myself. You've let me in and now you're stuck with me."

"Peter!"

"Omnomnom," he mouths at your neck playfully and pulls back, crawling off the side of the bed. "Alright. I'll let you sleep." He leans over and kisses your nose. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Peter."

______________________

After your math final you head out into the courtyard to make your way to the north parking lot. You're finally done. Classes are over for the next few months. It feels great to be free for a while, to not have to worry about anything. You spot Peter sitting on the fountain waiting for you, he's got an extra hoodie on his lap and you wonder if it's for you.

"Hey," you say and he looks up from his phone with the biggest smile. "Are you waiting for me?"

"Yes." He stands, towering over you and passes you the black hoodie in his hands. "I brought this for you."

"What for?" You hold it up and it says Aerospace Program. It's the hoodie they give students who have been accepted into the program that places them in study at the aerospace center. It's the program that essentially fast tracks you to a job with NASA. "Peter! You got in!"

"I did!" He says, shaking and turning the hoodie over for you to show you his name on the back. P. Mendes in bold white font. "I'm going to be the first werewolf on the astrophysics team. No. I am the first one because I'm already in."

You wrap your arms around him and he holds your head to his chest. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you." He presses his nose into your hair. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"I haven't been told where I've been placed yet."

You pull back and look up at him. He looks sad and he shouldn't. He should be the happiest he's ever been. This is his dream come true. "Why's that a problem?"

"Because if I'm not placed here then I'll be placed at the Florida program in our sister school. I'll have to move."

"Oh." Your heart sinks. He might have to leave. Just when things were starting to become more familiar with the two of you, he may have to completely relocate. "Then you go."

"But what about us?"

"We aren't in too deep yet."

"I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving home."

You cup his face and he scowls at you. "Don't throw away everything because of me. I won't let you do that. Why are you worrying about this now? Placement letters don't come out for another month right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to lose you." Peter gathers you close again. "I just got you."

"Then make the most of it now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." You pull away and put on his aerospace hoodie. It's a little big but it's comfy. "We have a date tomorrow night, and Shawn's rivalry game. There's so much to look forward to." You hold his face and squash his cheeks so he makes a fish face. "Stop worrying you big baby."

"How can you be so worry free?"

"Because I know things will work out."

"But how?"

You scowl at him and he scowls right back. "Because I said so. I know you're mister logical everything needs a solution, but this time, just let it be. Just relax. Classes are over, we're free for the next three months."

"Yeah." Peter wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up with ease so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His strength is always surprising. He doesn't look nearly as big and toned as Shawn or Raul but he can easily make you seem like nothing more than a ragdoll. "Three months of you all to myself. I guess I can relax."

"Mhmm. Let's go tell your brothers the good news?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

____________________

Saturday you leave Shawn's game with Peter. You're both in a great mood. The game was outstanding, a hard fight between both teams and Shawn's came out on top. You and Peter drive out of the lot and as you head down a dark street toward the edge of town you realize you don't actually know where you're going. You were so caught up with Peter the last few days you never asked where this date was going to be at.

"Where are we going?"

"The observatory. There's a meteor shower tonight."

"Whoa, did you know there was going to be one? Or is that a coincidence?"

Peter looks over and chuckles. "Yeah I knew. It's going to be incredible. And if we're lucky, we might see something else."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

An hour later and you and Peter are in the observatory, walking around the informational exhibits while waiting for a turn to use the telescope. There aren't many people there, just a few families and some other couples on dates it seems.

Peter takes your hand and leads you into the atrium. It's a huge room with glass walls and a glass ceiling. You can see the stars as they begin to appear one by one in the sky. Being so far out of the city makes the sky so clear, so crisp and dark. There are no lights in the atrium and you sit down on some cushions with Peter, eyes glued to the sky overhead. It's breathtaking.

"Unbelievable isn't it?"

You look over and Peter is smiling ear to ear. "It's like we're in space."

"Yeah. Here, lay back," Peter says and guides you back so you're laying with your head on the floor cushion. He lays beside you and points to a cluster of stars. "See those?"

"Yeah?"

"That's Orion's belt." He points to the left. "There's the Little Dipper."

You follow his finger as he traces out the brightest stars for you. "When is the meteor shower supposed to start?"

"Soon. But I think we might get to see something else first." Peter points to the skyline where there is a hint of light dwindling away. "Look there."

"The sun set?"

"No, it's not the sun." Peter points along the skyline to the left and the lights there look green. "It's the aurora borealis."

"What?" You squint and the light is so far and so faint you can't be sure. "No way."

Peter laughs. "Yes way. If we drive another hour that way we'll be able to see them better. I haven't seen them up close since I was a kid. I hoped tonight was clear enough to see them from here."

"I want to see them."

"But we'd have to drive so far and then back home."

You grab Peter's hand. "Show me the lights. Let's do it, I don't care if we have to sleep in the car."

"You're serious?" He laughs as you nod. "It's early enough, we can probably catch the end of them pretty clearly."

"Let's go." You gather up your purse and Peter leads you to the exit, the two of you giggling like children.

____________________

Forty minutes. Peter drives fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit for forty minutes on the dark highway to take you to the lights. When he pulls over at a rest stop atop a hill, the view is breathtaking. Blue and green lights swirl across the sky, fading in and out of each other. They move slowly like they're floating across the night sky. Ribbons of ethereal light.

"I can't believe I'm seeing this." You mutter, walking around the open field behind the rest stop.

Peter turns your head to the left and there you see something streak across the sky. "The meteor shower is starting."

"That's not a shooting star?"

"No. Well, it could be but I'm pretty sure that was a meteor." Peter wraps his arms around you from behind. "There's the moon."

"Oh! Its full?"

"Not quite. Two more nights and it will be."

You sit down and Peter adjusts so he can hold you between his legs. "Thank you for driving this whole way."

"Do you know what's special about tonight?"

"It's our first date? The lights?"

He chuckles. "Well yes, but the moon is in the same phase it was the night we met." He leans back and then holds a little box up in front of you. "I got this for you."

You take the box and look back at him. "What's this? You didn't have to get me something."

"I know." He presses his face into your neck. "Open it."

You lift the box lid and inside is a necklace with a nearly full moon charm and a small constellation of stars connected to each other. "Peter...this is beautiful. What- why?"

"It's the moon, from the night we met, and your star sign's constellation." He lifts up the moon charm and rubs over it with his thumb. "I thought it'd be perfect for you and as you know I'm a space nerd so..."

"I love it Peter." You turn and set the box down in favor of grabbing his face to kiss him. You kneel between his legs and press your lips gently to his. "Thank you."

Peter's hands find your face and he guides you back so you're laying on him. He kisses you slowly, lovingly. He bites at your lip, nibbling for permission to take things further and you giggle, biting back in response. He growls and rolls you over so you're under him.

For a moment you open your eyes. It's like a dream. The sky above is alight with green and blue waves of light. Peter is so close you could count the freckles on his nose if it were brighter. Truly this doesn't feel real, and you don't want it to end.

_____________________

Three in the morning you wake up to use the bathroom. The bed is empty, though you know Peter went to bed with you last night. The two of you got in at almost midnight and went straight to your room to fall asleep, exhausted from the driving and all the kissing you were doing under the lights.

You make your way to the bathroom and take a seat on the toilet when suddenly you hear voices, the guys. Weird they'd be up so late, but it is the end of the semester. None of them have classes tomorrow. You tune them out, focusing on your businesses.

Until you hear your name. You press your ear to the wall beside the toilet and listen. They're in the living room and they must be close to the wall because you can hear them plain as day.

"So you guys are officially an item?" Raul asks.

"I don't know about officially." Peter replies.

A scoff from one them followed by, "The bite marks on her neck seem pretty official. I can't believe she let you mark her up like that." It's Shawn. "At least take her on a second date you animal."

"I will!" Peter protests. "I got carried away, she is so...she's so good. I couldn't help myself. She gave me the green light and I wasn't going to stop. Come on, you guys know what it's like right?"

"No."

"Not really."

"W-what? I know you guys have been with girls."

Shawn let's out a laugh. "Dude, of course but not like her. You do realize you guys are different."

"Yeah. Don't tell me you don't know," Raul says, voice trailing off.

"I know. It just hasn't come up."

There's a long silence that follows. You lean away from the wall and stare at the hand towel in front of you. What hasn't come up? Is there something wrong? Did you do something? You finish up, wash your hands and pull open the door to go back to your room.

Peter is there at the end of the hall at your bedroom door as if he were going to go back to bed. You stop short of him, standing and staring at his back. What do you say? What do you do?

"Up late?" You ask softly.

Peter turns around and he walks up to you, hands warm as he lays them on your shoulders. He doesn't have his glasses on and he's got his hair clipped back in one of your barrettes. Any other time you would have made fun of him, teased him for taking after Shawn's ridiculous hair trend. But right now it doesn't feel right. Right now you don't know what to think.

"Yeah, just woke up. You okay?" He asks, sliding his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yeah."

An hour passes with you and Peter laying in bed. You can't sleep. How could you? There are many things you've overheard in this house, many things you've just decided to let be. Usually fights, sometimes conversations about girls. But this time, you can't let it go. This time it's about you and Peter, and it's something that you've done and he knows. Your stomach churns. You can't think of anything you've done. Things have been going well, you and Peter fit together perfectly. What-

"Darling," Peter mumbles sleepily, rolling over and putting his arm across your chest. "You're still awake?"

"Can't sleep."

"Talk to me."

You sigh softly. "It's nothing. I'm just overthinking."

Peter slides his hand up your chest and rests it against the base of your throat, thumb stroking gently over your trachea. "Talk to me about your thoughts. I want to be completely honest with you."

"I'm just...worried about classes." You close your eyes and clench your jaw a bit. You feel bad lying about this. You just don't know how to ask for what you want to know. "I think I failed my math final."

"Oh. Well, you can always repeat the course?"

"Yeah. Just wanted to get it out of the way."

He hums softly. "Is that all that's on your mind?"

"Mmmhmm."

His thumb strokes over your throat gently and you shiver. He knows full well how he's affecting you and he knows that you're lying. You don't know how, but you can feel he knows. "Would you sleep better if I went to my room?"

"No." You pulls his hand away from your neck gently, threading your fingers between his. "Please stay."

"Alright."

You close your eyes again and try to settle down. It's not easy when you know he wants you to tell him the truth. You feel so bad. So guilty. "If I did something wrong, you would tell me, right?"

"Mmmhmm." Peter yawns.

"Okay." You turn and curl into his chest. He puts his arm around your back, gathering you as close as possible. "Goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight Darling."

_____________________

Three weeks later.

"I haven't gotten my placement letter yet." Peter groans, sinking into the dining chair at the kitchen table. "Everyone is getting theirs and I'm not."

"You'll get it. Stop freaking out."

"Everyone is being placed here in town. Spots are filling up, if they fill up here then I'll be placed in Florida."

You lean over the table and cup his jaw. "Peter."

"Darling."

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

"I won't leave you." Peter says, taking your hand in his. "I won't."

"Peter. You have to. You cannot stay here because of me if you get placed in Florida. We've been over this."

He stands and holds your face. "I am not going to leave you," he says firmly, leaving you no room for further discussion.

"When is your appointment?" You ask, changing the subject. "For your new tattoo."

"In an hour."

"We should get going then."

At the parlor your take a seat beside Peter. He picks out a moon tattoo, nearly full, the same moon he gifted you on your first date. It's small, just big enough to go right above his swallow on his bicep. He also has two other small drawings. The constellation for your star sign and his.

"You're sure you want mine?" You ask, touching the drawing of the cluster of stars in his hand. "What if something happens?"

"What if we break up you mean?" He chuckles and you give him a look. "I'd never regret it."

"You're sure?" You take his hand and he threads his fingers between yours.

Peter smiles and kisses you quick. "Yes I'm sure. Do you wanna stay for my tattoo or do you want to shop around a bit?"

"I could pick out a new stud for your lip?"

"You could. But I'm not sure how long I'll keep it."

"Why?"

"Because it's a pain to keep in my lip with my fangs."

You nod. "Alright, I'll stay then."

"Promise? Even if I'm a wuss?"

"Yes." You giggle and he leans back to relax, taking a deep breath before the artist gets seated. You hold his hand, thumb rubbing the back his fingers. Maybe he could hold your hand one day while you get a tattoo. Maybe...maybe you'd get something for him.

_____________________

Peter's placement letter arrives on a Saturday. You grab the mail as soon as you hear the box close from where you're watching TV in the living room. No one is home but you. The guys all went out for a run some time ago. You sort through the mail and there is it, addressed to Peter A. Mendes. It's from the school, there is no way it isn't his placement letter. Your hands tremble and you look around as if you have been caught with some sort of forbidden paraphernalia.

"We're back!" Shawn calls from the kitchen and your heart leaps into your throat.

You stuff the letter into your shirt, tucking it into your bra. If he doesn't know it's there, he can't panic about it for a little longer. It's wrong. It's so so wrong. But things are going so well, you and Peter are just about to make the next move in your relationship.

"Darling?" Peter's voice floats into the room and you turn around, hand full of mail. "There you are."

"Mmm? I was just grabbing the mail. I didn't hear you come in."

Peter takes the pile from you and sorts through it, the same expression on his face as he always has. Troubled, scowling, waiting to see that off white school envelope. Relief washes over him, his features softening as he gets to the bottom of the pile. "Nothing yet," he says softly, looking to you and giving a weak smile.

"Nope. Soon though."

"Yeah."

You cross your arms and the letter stabs into your chest uncomfortably. What a perfect metaphor for what you've done. "How was the run?" You ask, attempting to change the subject and not think of the paper in your shirt.

Peter runs a hand over his hair and before he can begin to answer, Raul is putting his arm around his neck. "You should have come!" Raul says excitedly. "Your man went crazy today."

"Oh yeah?"

"I did not." Peter says in his defense. "I just let off some steam."

"Crazy, loco." Raul raises his eyebrows. "He was tearing things apart. Absolute madman."

Peter shoves Raul off of him and covers your ears. "Don't listen to him. He's the crazy one."

You just smile and lean your head against Peter's chest. "Its okay, I know you're crazy. I don't need Raul to tell me that."

"H-hey!"

Raul cackles triumphantly and goes back into the living room.

"I am not." Peter looks down at you, shifting his hands so he's cupping your face. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"A little."

"You want me to put you in your place?" He smirks and you press against him. "Yes? You do don't you?"

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe. My last bite marks have all healed over so..." The letter crunches against your skin and you freeze. Fuck. You can't get into it with Peter now. You have to hide the letter. "So...I'm going to check my email and see if my grades for world studies has been posted yet."

Peter eyes you suspiciously but says nothing as you move away from him and head toward your room. Smooth. Real smooth. Not sketchy at all.

_____________________

"Can we talk?" Peter asks while laying across your bed later on that evening. You knew this was coming. There was no way he'd let your suspicious behavior fly earlier.

"Sure."

"I know you want me to drop the subject of the program placement, but I have a question," Peter says softly, his hand finding yours on the bed.

"What is it?"

"Would you go with me?"

You turn your head to look at him, silhouetted in the dim light of your mood lamp on the nightstand. "To Florida?"

"Yeah. If I get placed there."

"In a perfect world, yes." You smile and he looks over at you. "I can be a teacher anywhere. I've got a few more years than you, but I don't mind transferring."

"You'd leave everything behind here?"

"What's here to leave?"

"School? Family? Friends? Shawn and Raul?"

You bite your lip and roll over to lay against his chest. "Moving is only temporary. We'd come back in two or three years?"

"Yeah. Or I'd get a job with the center down there."

"Ohh, well yeah then I think I would go. It'd be fun."

"Yeah."

You take a shaky breath and let it out. "If I did something, will you promise not to be mad?"

"Depends on what you've done." Peter says softly, hand going to your hair. "Some things warrant more emotion than others."

"I took something."

"From me?"

"Kind of." You bite your lip and look to your dresser where his letter is tucked away in the top drawer.

"Kind of? How's that?"

"Well it wasn't yours yet, not technically."

Peter chuckles. "You're speaking in riddles. What'd you do?"

"I took your letter."

"You what?"

You push away from him and climb off the bed. He sits up and looks at you with a confused expression. "You're mad huh?"

"Confused, a little hurt, but I'm not mad." He shakes his head. "How long have you had it?"

"Today. It came right before you got back from your run." You dig in your top drawer and get his sealed envelope out. "I just wanted to delay the news a little while. I wanted you to myself for a little longer. I knew if you got this you'd only focus on it and-"

"Stop." Peter stands and takes the envelope from your hands. "No matter what is in this, no matter what it says, I will be here for you. I won't fret over it. I won't ignore you."

"But-"

He presses his fingers to your lips. "Shh. No buts. It's time for me to open it."

You watch, eyes wide as he tears open the top carefully. He unfolds the letter, eyes scanning the page, face completely relaxed and emotionless. It's so tense you can feel your heart beating in your throat. This letter is going to change everything to come in the next few months.

"I'm moving..." He says softly, eyes flicking away from the paper to yours and then back.

Your heart stops, stomach going cold and sick. "You-"

"...moving my stuff into your bedroom, because I'm staying!" He grins and turn the letter around. You snatch it from his hands and scan the top of it. His placement is at the program on campus.

"Peter!" You shove him and he scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around. "You scared me! I was gonna stress puke!"

Peter stop spinning and pins you to the bed and smiles down at you. "I couldn't resist. I'm sorry." He kisses your nose. "But I'm staying, I'm going to be here with you. I couldn't be happier."

"I'm happy too. I don't think I would make it if you had to leave." You brush back some curls that are hanging down in your face. "It was hard enough when I didn't speak to you for a week."

"That almost killed me."

"Yeah." You giggle and then suddenly you remember the other day. The conversation you overheard. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." He noses at your neck and you pull his head back so he knows you're serious. "What's wrong?"

"I heard you and the guys talking the other night. You said you knew something but didn't want to tell me. Did I do something?"

"Oh. Oh no, no you didn't do anything." He chuckles and shakes his head. "We were talking about like...well...werewolves get this connection when we meet someone who is very compatible with us. It's like we form this bond that ties us to this person."

"A mate."

Peter flushes and clears his throat a bit. "Y-yeah. How'd you know?"

"Some of my friends back home were werewolves. It came up a few times."

"Oh thank goodness." He says, so relieved. "I was worried you'd not understand or freak out or something. That's why I didn't say anything before. I've known for a while that-"

"I'm your mate."

"Yes."

"And you're going to stay here for school."

"Mmhmm."

You grin big and grab his face in excitement. The feeling of knowing you're his mate, that you're going to be happy and have him by your side until the end of time is so overwhelming but exciting. "And I get to sleep with you every night and wake up to your mess of hair and your stupid sleepy smile every morning. I-I love you. Oh my God I love you."

Peter laughs a little and leans in to kiss you quickly. "I love you too."

"My Peter." You press your forehead to his. "My mate."

"And you're mine." He bumps his nose to yours. "Forever and always."

You close your eyes and smile. "Forever and always."

End

___________________

Thank you for reading this series! It’s been an incredible journey from start to finish. Thank you everyone who sent kind messages and asked questions and just was excited in general. Shout out to @shawnm521 @delicateshawn @planstonightbaby for your help and input through out this fic. I couldn’t do it with out you guys always listening to me ramble on about concepts.

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. - A

Custom header per part made by the incredible delicateshawn

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

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mishasminion360 · 4 years ago

Text

We’ll All Float On

An It: Chapter 2 epilogue

Warning: Language; mentions of trauma and therapy; coming out of the closet; angst; fluff. You know what? Everything. It’s got everything.

A/N: I wrote this ages ago immediately after seeing the movie, but I’m just getting around to typing it up and posting it. The remaining members of the Losers Club deserve all the happinesses life can dish out. And in this house we ship Reddie!

Derry, Maine, 2017

Maybe coming back there wasn’t the best idea. After all, the last time they’d all gathered at that particular restaurant it had been a disaster, a God damned nightmare, and Mike had sworn to himself that he’d never eat Chinese food again. But as he gazed into the bubbling waters of the aquarium (this time tranquil and free of severed heads), his worries began to subside. And when the second of the Losers finally arrived his fears vanished completely.

“Jesus, isn’t there anywhere else to eat in this town?” Mike turned to see Bill Denbrough sling his jacket over the back of a chair and offering him a wide grin.

“Man, you grew up here, too, Bill. You should know that the answer to that question is a resounding ‘no’.”

The two men embraced with a hearty laugh, things already felt so much different than before.

***

Beverly gazed up at the glowing neon of the Jade of the Orient as Ben wrapped an arm tenderly around her waist.

“How does it feel to be back, Mr. Hanscom?” Bev asked, leaning into him.

“A lot better now that I’m not saddled with this overwhelming sense of dread weighing on my chest.”

Beverly circled both of her arms around Ben’s muscular torso which 28 years ago had not been so muscular. “Well, now the only thing resting on your chest is me.”

She hoisted herself up on her toes to lock her lips with his and Ben smiled into the kiss. “Easy now, Mrs. Hanscom,” he murmured. “Time and place. Time and place.”

“Get a room you two, before I lose my appetite.”

The lovebirds extricated themselves from each other’s arms to gape at the bespectacled man who’d approached them.

“Seriously, how the fuck is it that the two of you look even better than you did last year? And what the fuck am I doing wrong?”

“Beep beep, Richie!!!” Ben and Beverly cheered in unison as the pulled good ol’ Trashmouth Tozier into a bear hug.

“All right you two, lay off,” Richie laughed as he shrugged his way out of their embrace. “Don’t touch me, you don’t know where I’ve been.”

The three linked arms and strode to the front door of the restaurant like Dorothy, Scarecrow and the Tin Man sauntering down the yellow brick road.

“Alrighty, fellas,” Bev said, never afraid to take the lead. “Let’s do this thing.”

***

“Hello and welcome! How many in your…oh.”

The hostess trailed off as she took in the trip before her. Oh, she remembered these three, and the rest of their strange little gang as well. The last time the six of them had dined there they’d nearly destroyed their finest dining room. She didn’t need to open up a fortune cookie to know she’d be cleaning up more shattered dishes and splintered furniture that night.

“Right this way,” she said, clearing her throat. “The rest of your party is expecting you.”

Volleying quips and sharing in quiet giggles, Bev, Ben, and Richie followed the hostess as she procured their utensils and menus and led them to their seats.

“Where is your sick friend? The small man who is allergic to everything? I don’t believe he’s arrived yet.”

The trio immediately fell silent. She’d been referring, of course, to Eddie Kaspbrak. Bev would had to have been blind not to notice Richie’s face fall and his body sag with an unspoken sadness at the mere mention of their late friend. Reaching behind her without looking, she grasped Richie’s hand tightly in her own and her stiff shoulders relaxed when she felt him squeeze back in thanks.

“He’s, um,” Ben paused as a he searched for the right words. “He’s one of the reasons we’re here tonight.”

***

Mike and Bill were already engaged in an animated discussion about something or other and hadn’t even noticed the others approach. Ben gazed wistfully at the joyful pair, admiring their exuberance and allowing it to overtake him as well before removing the padded mallet from its place and offering it to Richie. “Care to do the honors?”

Bill and Mike’s conversation was abruptly silenced by the thunderous echo of a gong and Richie’s announcement.

“This meeting of the Losers Club has officially begun.”

And just like that all of the pieces fell into place. The little family was whole, as it would ever be, once more.

***

“Shit, Mike, you actually went to Florida?” Richie guffawed before taking a pull from his beer.

“Mm-hm,” he responded through a mouthful of lo mein.

“Fuck, why?”

“It’s like I told you when we were kids. It’s just a place I’d always wanted to see. Now I’ve seen it.

“And?”

The other five eyed Mike in anticipation of an exciting story, but he merely shrugged. “It’s about as magical as you’d expect.”

“Yeah, I told you you’d hate it,” Richie snickered.

“It wasn’t all bad. I did meet a nice gal in Jacksonville.” This was met with a chorus of juvenile “oohs” and a salacious whistle from Bill.

“What was she, like, 70?”

“Don’t be such a smart ass, Rich,” Mike chided, waiting until Richie once again had his lips poised at the edge of his glass of booze before finishing his sentence. “She was 80.”

The gang hooted as Trashmouth Tozier choked on his beverage. Bill clapped his coughing friend firmly on his back before lifting his own glass.

“If Richie here can keep it down, I’d like to propose a toast.” The others followed suit and hoisted their drinks in the air. “To those we lost. To Stan and Eddie.”

They smiled they’d all been wearing throughout the evening finally began to falter as silence engulfed the room. After a moment of quiet hesitation, Bev tapped her glass against Bill’s.

“To Stan,” she said with a grin that took all of her strength to muster.

“To Stan,” they all repeated before clinking glasses and taking a swig.

“To Eddie,” Ben cheered, and the others parroted with a little more pep. All but one.

“Rich? You okay, man?” Bill turned to his left to see the usually boisterous comedian staring stoically into his half poised glass, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he was searching the bottom of his beer for something he’d never be able to find.

“To Eddie,” he whispered at last, clinking his glass against all the others.

***

Though Florida had been a bit of a dud, Mike did find happiness traversing other states, even other countries. Thanks to a little help from Bev’s keen eye, Ben had just designed, and would be supervising construction for, a swanky new chain of hotels. Richie’s third Netflix special would be available to stream by the end of the week. Bill’s latest book had just been nominated for an award and talks had already begun regarding a big screen adaptation. And all that good news coincided with the birth of his first child, a son named Georgie.

It certainly seemed that none of them could be considered losers anymore.

***

Another blanket of uncomfortable silence settled upon them as the waitress plopped the plate of fortune cookies in the center of the table.

“Enjoy,” she chirped before adding in a whisper, “and my boss has insisted that I ask you lot to please refrain from destroying any furniture this time.” To that end she left them to partake in their potentially hazardous desert, and the group eyed the plate of novelty snacks with trepidation.

“Okay, who wants to be the first to crack one of these suckers open?” Richie asked. “By the way, not it.”

After another moment or two of hesitation, Mike finally reached for the plate. “I got you all into this mess last time, so I might as well start making up for it. Since Eddie can’t be with us, I’ll be this evening’s designated risk analyst.”

He cracked a cookie in two and, popping one half inside his mouth and discarding the other on the table, withdrew the small slip of paper.

No blood, no milky eyeballs, no critters from another hellscape of a world. The only thing inside these cookies were fortunes. Mike read his without a sound, and he could feel the others watching him intently.

“If that fucking thing says ‘guess’ or ‘Stanley’ or ‘could’ or ‘not’ or ‘cut’ or ‘it’, I swear to God I’m fucking gone.” Richie laughed but failed to hide his growing unease.

Mike grinned as he read the fortune again, this time out loud. “‘The world is big, but time is short.’”

“Well that’s much less terrifying,” Bill sighed. “I’ll take that as a cue to dig in.”

Bill devoured the cookie and then vocalized his fortune. “‘The ending is the most integral part of the journey’.”

“Would you look at that,” Richie guffawed, clapping Bill on the shoulder. “Even a shitty cookie has offer it’s two cents about your lousy endings.”

“Fuck you, Trashmouth. My last two novels have ended quite nicely, thank you very much. Just ask my Booker Prize nomination.”

“I’d rather ask the award itself when you win it.”

Bill rolled the slip of paper into a minuscule ball and flicked it aside. “If I win it.”

Richie shook his head. “When.”

Bill patted Richie’s hand as a sign of thanks. “You know, I’ve actually been thinking about taking a step back from all the doom and gloom thriller stuff to take a swing at writing children’s books.”

“You’re kidding!” Bev exclaimed with a bark of laughter.

“I’m serious. I kind of thought it would be a good way for Georgie and I to bond. I write a story, then we read it together. You know?”

Ben leaned back in his chair and snapped his cookie in half. “Bill that’s…wow. That’s quite a change. Good for you, man.”

“What does yours say, honey? Bev asked, eyeing the slip of paper between her husband’s fingers.

“Yeah, honey. What’s it say?” Richie leaned toward the two of them, batting his eyelashes dramatically and resting his chin in his hands as the pair flipped him off at the same time.

“It says ‘he who builds the dreams of others should not neglect his own’.”

“Well, that’s oddly specific,” Richie said matter-of-factly. “You know, because you’re an architect? You build things….yeah, I’ll shut up now.”

“First time for everything,” Ben grinned.

“I want to read mine next,” Bev chimed in, holding the small piece of paper primly between her fingers. “It says ‘the smallest changes make the biggest difference’.”

Mike rubbed his chin in thought, nodding his approval at the depth of Bev’s fortune. “Anyone want to wager a guess as to what it means?”

Richie snapped his fingers as his eyes lit up. “Well, by jove, I think I’ve got it, gents,” he exclaimed in an overblown, piss poor excuse for a British accent they hadn’t heard him use since they were kids. “I do believe it means that if our dear friend William here could slightly alter his crummy endings, some of his books might actually make for a halfway decent read.”

Bill glared at his wisecracking friend. “Tozier, if you make fun of my writing one more time, I swear to God-“

“Don’t blame me, man. It’s the cookies that have it out for you!”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with Bill’s books, Rich,” Ben smiled just as Bill smacked Richie in the back of his head.

“I think it means that something small can have a huge impact on your life,” Bev clarified. She scanned the faces of her companions to see if any were catching her drift.

“What, like, a new haircut?”

“Or a baby, Richie.” Ben’s eyes twinkled when he grinned.

“Right. Or like-wait, what?”

“Bev that’s….are you really….?” Mike stammered happily.

“Three weeks along,” she confirmed proudly. “You guys didn’t think it was a little weird that I’ve been drinking water this entire evening?”

Bill leapt from his chair and threw his arms around the expectant couple. “Ben! Bev! This is amazing news! Congratulations!”

“Yeah, congrats you two crazy kids,” Richie added before Mike inquired if they’d been considering names yet.

Bev leaned into her husband affectionately. “Well, of it’s a girl, Ben has graciously agreed to name her after my mother, Elfrida. We’d call her Frida for short.”

“Beautiful choice, Bev,” Mike praised, taising his glass and taking a celebratory sip. “And if it’s a boy?”

The Hanscom’s looked silently, almost nervously at each other before answering, some sort of unspoken agreement passing between the two of them as the rest of the Losers looked on.

“If it’s a boy,” Ben finally said, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d even been holding, “we’d like to name him Eddie. Edward Stanley Hanscom.”

Richie instantly felt a lump form in his throat, and he had to cast his eyes downward to ensure that no one could see the pain that burned behind them. He chewed his lip quietly as he struggled to reel his unraveling emotions back in. When he looked back up his eyes immediately found Beverly’s. She searched his face silently. Hopefully.

“He would have loved that,” Richie finally croaked. “They both would have.”

Mike and Bill were too choked up to speak, so they just adamantly nodded their agreement.

“Alright, I think I’ve had about as much sentimentality as I can take for one evening.” Ben turned to Richie and tossed him a fortune cookie. “Come on, funny man, make me laugh. What does yours say?”

Richie made a big manly show of crushing the cookie in his hand before extricating the fortune from the rubble of the snack, and as he read it to himself his face blanched.

“Oh, this should be good,” Mike snickered, noticing Richie’s sudden discomfort. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Rich.”

He felt a wave of nausea overtake him as he read and re-read the small segment of paper. The clown was dead, he knew that, but this fortune felt like another of his cruel tricks. Richie felt as if he were being mocked all over again.

Love doesn’t come only once.

“Rich?” Beverly asked softly, her gentle voice cutting through the harsh buzz of white noise in his ears. Nuh-uh. No way in hell was he reading this shit out loud. He didn’t have the stomach to explain it to them. Not yet. Not like this.

“I, uh, I guess my new special’s gonna bomb,” he coughed. “It says ‘a career change can set you on your true path’.”

The others eyed him skeptically and he feared they’d seen through his fib when Ben at last said, “it’s probably for the best, Rich. You’re not that funny anyway.”

Richie mouthed a silent “fuck you” and the tension dissolved into laughter.

***

The first to arrive, the leave. Mike stood and slipped his jacket from the back of the chair, shrugging into it as he said, “I don’t know about you folks, but jet lag and alcohol do not seem to be mixing well for me. Any of you care to continue the conversation back at the townhouse?”

“You read my mind,” Bill said, polishing off the dregs of his third beer before following Mike’s lead.

“Me, Ben, and the Lima bean here,” Bev said with a Pat of her stomach, “would be more than happy to take you up on that offer.”

“I’ll handle the check,” Bill said, already removing his wallet from his back pocket.

“Slow your roll there, Stephen King,” Ben said, reaching for his own wallet. “I’ve got this one. Really.”

“Let’s at least split it. I don’t feel right about you taking the whole thing.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Bev interjected. “I’ll pay it myself if it keeps this from turning into an all night debate.”

Bill turned to Richie, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Well, maybe mr. big shot comedian here would like to contribute.”

Richie still made not a move to stand. He simply sat and stared at the collection of dirty dishes littering the table, gazing so intently that he could potentially shatter one of the plates with a single thought.

“Yo, earth to Trashmouth. You okay, man?”

Richie licked his lips nervously; his mouth had gone inexplicably dry and he struggled to dislodge his voice from his throat.

“I’m not ready to, uh….guys we can’t leave yet.”

The tone had shifted once again and a far sense of dread took hold of each of the Losers. Bill tried to laugh through the unease. “You planning on spending the night here, Richie?”

“You guys, I came here tonight to say something and, God dammit, I’m gonna say it! I just need…just give me a sec.”

Richie Tozier spent so much of his time joking around that the rest of the gang often forget that he was even capable of being serious. He felt sadness and fear just like the rest of them, and it was clear at that moment that he was scared to death.

He was gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles paled. Beverly slid into the chair next to him and took one of his hands in her own. He was shaking terribly.

“Richie, what’s wrong?”

For what was probably the first time in his life, Richie couldn’t bring himself to start talking. Tell them, Tozier, he commanded himself. Just tell them. They’re your friends, man. They deserve the truth. You owe it to them, and to yourself. To Stan. To…Eddie.

“Sweetie, you’re scaring us,” Bev whispered. “Talk to us, Richie.”

“I’ve been seeing a therapist,” he finally blurted, the words tumbling out with the gust of a breath.

The others glanced from one another, unsure of how to respond, until Mike placed a comforting hand on Richie’s shoulder.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Rich. Shit, after everything we went through last year…” He trailed off as Richie shook his head fiercely, eyes screwed shut.

“I’m…um, I’m….gay.”

And just like that it was out. His “dirty little secret”. His painful truth laid bared before him for his friends, for the world to see.

“I’ve been having a really hard time accepting myself and….and processing all of these feelings. Especially after….after Eddie….” The rest of the words died on his tongue. He couldn’t bare to finish the sentence. It had been a year since he’d lost the only man he’d ever loved, but with each passing day the wound reopened. The pain was always fresh.

“Oh, Rich,” Bev cooed. She stroked his hair and pulled him close, already a loving mother in the making. “We know, honey.”

“You….what?”

“Richie, we know,” Bill confirmed. “We’ve always known, man.”

Richie could hardly believe his ears. Was it even possible for someone to be in so much pain but still find it possible to smile?

“Why the fuck didn’t any of you ever say anything?”

Ben slipped an arm around Bev’s shoulders and placed one of his strong but gentle hands over Richie’s. “Because we didn’t care, Rich. Who you loved didn’t matter to us. Because we loved you.”

“We still do. We’re your friends, Trashmouth,” Mike added. “We figured that, someday, you’d tell us when you were good and ready.”

Richie snatched his glasses from his face to rub his eyes as his vision went blurry. “I would have told you all a lot sooner, I think. But then we all left and….and we forgot. I forgot.”

Beverly laid her head against Richie’s shoulder. His trembling had only grown worse.

“Do you think….do you think that Eddie knew?”

“Eddie’s death hit us all pretty hard, Richie, but we could see how deeply it hurt you. Much more than any of us. We understand why now,” Bev soothed. “We all know how much you loved him, and we’re just so sorry that you’ve had to deal with all these feelings by yourself.”

He didn’t want to cry in front of them. Not again. But Richie had never been a good fighter, so the tears eventually won. Just like that day in the quarry one year ago, his friends held him as his body convulsed with harsh wracking sobs.

***

After his good healthy cry, Richie excused himself and snuck off the pay the check before either Bill or Ben had the chance to protest.

“So, I think Richie is definitely going to need another drink. How about I go grab a couple six packs and then meet you all back at the townhouse?” Bill offered.

The gang nodded their agreement as they all began filing out of the dining room and toward the front door. Suddenly, Richie came barreling past them back to the table.

“OhShitOhShitOhShitOhShit,” he chorused as he frantically snatched up as many napkins as he could that hadn’t already been soiled.

“What happened?” Ben inquired, quirking one perfect brow.

“I bumped into a guy at the register.”

“A guy?” asked Bev. “Someone you know?”

“Nope,” Richie responded, clutching two fistfuls of napkins. “And I literally bumped into him. Now he’s wearing his takeout as a suit.”

Richie rushed past them all again in a mad rush to clean up the mess he’d made.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Looks like Trashmouth has got quite a way with the fellas, doesn’t he?”

***

Cozy in the townhouse, they laughed some more, drank some more, and reminisced some more. They listened intently as Bill read aloud some of the rough passages he’d scribbled out for Georgie’s book. They helped Mike chart a course for his next adventure: a traditional backpacking trip across Europe. Richie offered to tag along if they could make a pit stop in Amsterdam for some weed.

As for Richie, the happily married Losers offered him some helpful advice for his next encounter with Don, whose number he’d been rewarded with after mopping up his spilled sweet and sour chicken. The very Don he’d promised himself to call when he returned home and felt good and ready to make a move. And Richie was starting to feel that “ready” may actually come sooner rather than later.

And as the week long visit neared it’s end, as their time together came to a close, the five collectively came to the realization that they were far from the losers that Derry had shaped them to be. But then again they never did feel like losers when they were all together.

#it ch 2 #the losers club #epilogue

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scintfms · 4 years ago

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hi kids ! wow , we’re already at opening and that’s so crazy ! i’m kofi , your co - admin , and i’m so excited that you guys are here ! i’m 23 , from the est tz , prefer she / they pronouns and i graduate from college in a little more than seven months ... yikes . that being said , i’m ready to introduce you guys to my latest muse , who may have huge development changes as we go on because of him being brand new , mr . saint moon ! he’s um ... something of a mess and idk if i love or hate him yet , but i’m happy to plot with ya’ll on my d.iscord @ 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.#4090 !

( lee juyeon , 22 , cis male , he / him ) * fun fact about me ? okay , let’s see . . . an injury stopped my promising olympic career . crazy , right ? i’m saint moon , i live in the contemporary new build with a three thousand square foot outdoor patio on ocean lane in key biscayne , & not to brag , but my family’s worth around $740 million . pretty decent for real estate and construction developers , huh ? we’ve been around for some time , but in town , everyone’s always associated me with the gatsbys ; but it’s not like that’s my whole identity , or anything . while filming for key biscayne , it was surprising when i’d get dragged on twitter for being “ errant , impetuous , & rancorous , ” but the cameras don’t see everything , & my real fans know that i’m nothing but coolheaded , venturesome , & enamoring . i’m not too bothered by it though , because since the series ended , i’ve opened a highly successful café in south korea and planning to expand to the states . follow me on instagram @SNT.MN to keep up .

name : saint moon .

nickname(s) : none .

age + date of birth : 22 + july 19th , 1998 .

astrological sign : cancer .

myers - briggs personality type : infj .

enneagram type : the individualist .

moral alignment : chaotic neutral .

gender + pronouns : cis man + he / him / his .

place of birth : gangnam , south korea .

place of residence : key biscayne , florida .

sexual orientation : bisexual .

romantic orientation : biromantic .

occupation : former reality star / instagram influencer / café owner .

nationality : korean .

ethnicity : korean .

language(s) spoken : korean , english , japanese , and learning mandarin .

social media handle : @SNT.MN

THE BACKSTORY .

saint’s story starts when his parents , moon ji - ho and park soo - ah went on their first date . in truth , it had been a rare instance of love at first sight when they bumped into each other at ji - ho’s office in seoul , and the date was only used to solidify their feelings . you see , ji - ho and soo - ah were fairly well known with ji - ho being the second heir to moon industries alongside his sister , moon eun - ha . moon industries was founded in the 1940s , and is known primarily for their real estate and construction business . the company was founded in seoul , and originally started out by purchasing and renovating beautiful homes and condominiums within the city . after thirty years in the business , ji - ho and eun - ha’s father was one of the first in south korea to reach the status of billionaire .

ji - ho and soo -ah were looking to forge their own path , though . although they were lucky enough to have wealthy parents , both of them have always liked the idea of working for themselves and getting their hands dirty . so , they refused ji - ho’s father’s investment and decided to start their own real estate firm . they went through the process of obtaining their real estate license in both south korea and the united states , specifically in florida . after studying hard , they were able to open moon real estate , and it was a hassle for them . they initially ‘ struggled ’ seeing as though they were their only employees , and soon , soo - ah discovered that she was pregnant with their son .

for four years , they worked hard with their bumbling baby boy , saint , crawling at their feet and curiously looking at home or building buyers . for a long time , they considered saint to be their closer as he was the selling point and allowed people to hold him while looking at the home . usually , soo - ah would use saint as a marketing ploy whenever they were trying to sell to young couples , and it always worked . the moons became known for saint syndrome , where those same young couples would typically call to say that they were expecting within a year of buying their home . it only took a few years , but the moons were soon raking in their own money without the help of ji - ho’s father .

when saint was six , his family relocated to key biscayne , florida . life was easy living on the water , and his parents continued to sell gorgeous homes both in seoul and in the wealthy neighborhoods of florida . with such a lifestyle , it wasn’t unheard of for saint to excel at his private school , where he was known for his academic prowess as well as his ability to play both the piano and the cello . saint was a fairly popular student while growing up , and it showed when the moons would host their annual christmas party .

he was fourteen when he finally started to understand the rivalry between thoroughbreds and gatsbys . originally , he put off like he didn’t care , but in reality he was trying to figure it out . the moons were a special case , considering that ji - ho was clearly an heir to a billion dollar fortune , but also had become wealthy in his own right thanks to his business with his wife . saint never understood that jabs and jeers that he would receive from thoroughbreds , because to him , they were all rich so what the hell did it matter ? he eventually began to side more with the gatsbys , never understanding why the thoroughbreds felt as though they needed to stick their noses up in the air at them .

within two years , though , saint seems to have changed for the worse . while his grades may be good , he begins to spend more time with new friends in miami . while there , he surrounds himself with fast cars and short nights , but he thinks it’s his parents’ fault for buying him a 488 spider for his sixteenth birthday . saint began to get into trouble , often pulled over for speeding and reckless driving to impress his friends . like always , a star is meant to fall , and it all came crashing down for saint when he thought that drag racing on u.s. route 1 was a good idea . he assumed that he could lose the cops , but he was stupid for ever thinking so -- he totaled the $1.3m dollar car , and after being treated for minor injuries , he was booked in the county jail .

having rich parents seems to be all fun and games considering they were barely able to get him out with a slap on the wrist , but that very same night they sent him away on a business plane to live with his no - nonsense grandparents . for the first year , saint pouted and argued , screamed and kicked over being trapped in seoul . he tried to escape the fortress of a house in pyeongchang , attempted to ditch his security guards when he went out in public , but he eventually realized that there was no getting out of this . so , he made the most out of it : he finished school , and during his senior year with the help of his grandparents , saint opened goodnight moon , a late night café that appealed to college students and late workers in need of a coffee and pastry pick me up . the café went viral , and so did the handsome owner .

he returned home when he was twenty , and discovered that key biscayne was filming . as the resident who suddenly disappeared , saint was sought after by the producers and was introduced mid - way through the second season .

THE SHOW .

saint and his family were not introduced on key biscayne until midway through season two . he was introduced as most table shakers would be , with a flurry of local headlines ranging from KEY BISCAYNE TEEN ARRESTED FOR DRAG RACING and HOW MONEY GETS YOU OUT OF A JAIL SENTENCE . his parents didn’t like the idea of being on a reality series , so they weren’t featured although there were a few scenes with them .

he was the reality show villain and you can’t tell me otherwise ! showed up with an air of what the fUCk ever and despite the air around him since he was arrested and shipped back to south korea , he never let that stop him ? like ofc he’s a rich boy who got away with something bc he’s rich , but it’s not that he doesn’t acknowledge it , he just chooses not to talk about it .

was definitely the subject of show cliffhangers , probably nearly got kicked off the show because of his short temperament and despite all that would still be invited to the reunions because he would always start some shit . he was very vocal about who he didn’t like on the show , and probably had good chemistry with a cast mate and fans of the show always pushed for them to become a thing ( a wc ... mayhaps 👀 ) but they were never anything more than friends .

by the end of the show , saint was that cast member that fans love to hate . he was employee of the month , and that’s on period ! gave what he was supposed to gave and was highkey problematic ( not in a bad way , but in a way where he was always the one in the middle of some shit ) and when people would question him about it ofc he didn’t care KFNDSJBFS .

THE PERSONALITY .

a little shit . that’s it . that’s all you need to know . although he’s standoffish , still has his insecurities because he’s not the ‘ perfect ’ son that his parents pushed for him to be . very much so the black sheep of the family , and is deemed as a lost cause by his thespian of a mother , so he figures that he might as well live up to that name . comes across as someone who genuinely doesn’t care , and he doesn’t KFDBJSFSD . sometimes only looks out for himself which adds more sand into the asshole bin , and he hates being asked ‘ dumb ’ questions . it’s a pet peeve that his mom thinks he picked up from his father .

THE HEADCANONS .

he does not want to be your friend KFNDSFUS . he can be very standoffish just to get that point across , and he doesn’t interact with people outside of a chosen few .

can be wildly off putting and while someone else may be afraid of confrontation , he isn’t ! might be the subject of bar brawls and minor scraps because he genuinely does not know how to shut the hell up .

hates walnuts ; idk why that’s important but it is . serve him something with walnuts in it and he’ll never talk to you again .

romantically and emotionally stunted , therefore he bides his time with casual sex and noncommittal acts of romance . can be found slipping out of beds in the middle of the night , never returns texts , and at times will pretend that he doesn’t know who the other person is ( ew ! ) .

a chaotic boy with a heart of gold , he just doesn’t show it and has mastered the art of being fake .

despite his repulsion of romance and relationships , he’ll flirt with anyone that has a pair of legs , and he quite honestly might call someone daddy just for the hell of it KNFDH .

probably posts those outfit thirst traps on instagram reels or tik tok bc he’s annoying .

THE CONNECTIONS .

an angsty ex boyf 👀 if i have to BEG for it i will ! and i promise to make you cry xD

a best friend pls ! someone who has been friends with him since before he was shipped back to korea for a few years so when he came back and was on the show , they were THE dynamic duo .

i’ve been really into his plot but someone he works out with ? maybe they don’t work out together per say , but they’re somehow always at the community gym at the same time .

something soft ? something so sweet that it would make my teeth rot ? could either be a boyfriend or girlfriend thing or tbh i don’t know but i’m literally looking for something that’s all fluff and all marshmallows and if i don’t get it then i’ll cry .

a plot where they full on hate each other . none of that cute shit KNFDNFHSD . no lingering feelings , no moments of hate lapse -- they hate each other and it’s a spicy hate ship that literally gets your blood pumping .

SKINNY LOVE ARE YOU THERE ?

his hoodrat friends NFDJNHFBD i’m kidding but i’m thinking like ... a billionaire boys club type of thing ? perhaps the five of them get together and ppl try to penetrate the group or they have these instances where ppl straight up hate them for no reason ? they were probably the TALK of the show bc thought they were assholes KNFDJBFBD idk either way , my hand is out . ( 1 of 4 spots filled )

a one night stand with some substance ? like yeah , they fuck around and they have their fun together but they don’t pretend to not know each other in public ( unless this person is a thoroughbred and i oop , chile ) so they probs tend to be a little like confidants at times but also have a tendency of shutting each other up with sex .

#biscayne.intro #this is really long i do apologize KNFDNSHF

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 4 years ago

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FIC: imagine seeing it printed in the paper for all the world to see

---

Ellen - 12/8/12 Your stores are low. That bargirl is dreadful at her job

Jo - 12/8/12 Sophie is great at her job, mom, we already ordered last week. Delivery is expected today or tomorrow at latest.

Ellen - 12/8/12 That’s not good enough, Jo. I taught you better than that. If you’re not going to appreciate feedback - I’ll just get out of your hair.

Jo - 12/9/12 Lots of stuff going on atm mom that the bar is Sophie and Harry’s domain and they’re on top of it so far as I can tell

Ellen - 12/15/12 Who knows what you can tell any more. If the bar goes into debts it’s your own fault. I’ve gotten a message from Rufus regarding needing help and will be going there for a while. You sort yourself out, missy, or you’re going to fall flat on your face like you always do. You don’t have Ash to bail you out any more, and I won’t be either

Jo - 12/1512

How is Rufus?

Ellen -12/18/12 Fine. Hunt was easy. I’ll be going to the East coast for a while until you grow up.

Jo - 12/25/12 Merry Christmas! You coming by Duluth at all?

Jo - 12/31/12 Happy New Year Mom! Hope all going well, bar’s running alright.

Ellen - 02/08/13 Heard from Bobby you got into some trouble on a hunt. Thought you’d grown out of that recklessness.

Jo - 02/16/13 Wasn’t a big deal. Just some thing with a shifter. It was more cop-trouble.

Jo - 03/23/13 Were you going to be near Duluth for the 7th?

Jo - 04/03/13 Sam and Dean were going to be in town next week. Thought if you’d be around good to catch up for my birthday?

Jo - 04/12/13 Gordon is back. Big trouble. Could use some help.

Ellen - 04/12/13 You were big enough to handle him when you were 15, you can handle him on your own now. Get your monster to help if you’re still doing that.

---

“Sorry I haven’t been around much-” Jo started to say, leaning heaving onto the bartop as she rubbed her eyes. She’d been looking at the laptop screen for too long, months of catching up as she’d been struggling with the effort to deal with the fallout from the other hunter.

She’d barely left the house for weeks, even to come down to the bar, as she’d been too busy watching out for the other. Grey’d jumped at every creak and noise around the house ever since he’d gotten home, and she was considering what she could do aside from going and begging the other shadow to keep up his inconvenient choice of Whispering that running the bar and keeping tabs on what was going on there was so far down on her list of priorities. She was clearly a horrible businesswoman.

“Don’t worry about it at all, Jo.” Sophie brushed her off with a wide smile, quickly pulling out a caffeinated soft drink from the fridge so Jo could get a bit more energy back. “It’s been peaceful really, kinda like the place is actually mine-”

“You got the cash to buy me out?” “Not yet, besides, you should just pay me a manager’s salary and let me take over.” “You want that? Done!”

“I said you should, not that I want you to!” Sophie squawked, waving a hand at her as she moved to get the other ledger - the paper written back up that Jo did actually demand on being done even though most everything was electronic these days. Sophie understood it though or at least respected that Jo had a soft spot for keeping a hard copy, just for backup. There was a pause before the brunette added quietly, “Besides - I know it’s been a while since anyone new or old has been around, but like… Your mom or Anna aren’t going to be coming back and trying to take over again sometime are they?”

Jo jerked for a second before frowning. It had been a long time since there had been any noise from either of them.

She’d lost track and stopped caring about Anna’s desertion a long while back - a hissed comment under the redhead’s breath one night at the bar that made Jo question if those memories she claimed were gone actually were, and then after Jo pressed the question the other had stormed out and Jo hadn’t seen her since. It’d been almost a year at that point so she doubted she’d ever hear from her ever again - if Jo didn’t go looking, the redhead could stay missing so far as she was concerned. Especially if she wasn’t as wiped clean as she had claimed to be.

Her mom on the other hand was a different story. Jo had been reaching out, and hearing back sometimes, but… Things were never and had never been good. But since Ellen had reappeared and tried to pick up where they’d left off before Carthage - things had been worse. She remembered their last conversation in person - Ellen questioning what Jo wanted in life and accusing her of always picking fights when Jo’d asked genuinely for her opinion on her relationship and how things had been going - and their other communication had been breaking down even worse since. Jo didn’t suspect her mother would be coming around any time soon, especially not to take over her bar since she kept pushing Jo to ‘grow up’ and ‘find some maturity’. It was unlikely she’d be coming to ‘bail’ Jo out of her mess any time soon.

Shaking her head, Jo cracked the top of her soda with a sigh before smiling across at her bar-tending friend. “I can safely assure you - unless I tell you, nobody is going to come and take the bar off of you again.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Sophie grinned widely back at her, tapping the lid of Jo’s can with a glass of water of her own before they both buckled down to get the ledgers done and all that boring paperwork Jo’d been ignoring and Sophie had been doing checked before the bar was due to open.

---

The postcards came in from all over the place.

And from all different people.

Some hunters would drop them off in hand, others mailed still, and some were put up by the hunter themselves. Those that were hunter notes usually had a list of details on the back of what was at the location and dates.

Chicago, Austin, San Andreas and others, even Ontario and Quebec.

Those that didn’t have those notes were usually from Ellen, and tucked in and pinned up amongst the rest same as all the others. Those didn’t get any special treatment, just like she knew hers never got additional glances or care.

Milwaukee sat tucked underneath Seattle, there was several from all over Florida and the warmer states.

Jo’d even bought her own postcards for Las Vegas and New Orleans that she’d laughed about tucking beside the strict disapproving sense she got off of the cards from her mother and seriousness from the hunter’s postcards.

Bright and shiny between them.

It was collage spanning the whole country of the webs of connection that the hunting community gave to them all.

And Jo found it comforting to know almost ever part of the country had some touch of not only the supernatural but someone who would protect the innocent or free the trapped.

Point Arena, California to West Quoddy, Maine.

---

That they’d finally bumped into one another was not surprising. That it was over a werewolf hunt where her daughter had bumped her arm and thrown off her shot was a surprise.

Ellen had expected the other had learned by now to not be so reckless and stupid. She had hoped that her daughter would have finally matured into her age and stopped running headlong into things. She had thought perhaps Jo would have grown out of being contrary and arguing because she wanted to rebel.

Their fight at the hotel after Jo had subdued the werewolf with a long chain of silver and getting far too close to the man’s claws for Ellen’s comfort until the sunrose and they’d dropped the man off at his home with the firm promise from the blonde that she’d be back before sundown that night to talk more through what his options were had been on a par with their old fights across the worn Roadhouse floorboards.

Jo had screamed and ranted and raved and demanded that she was right, and that she knew better and that she knew what she was doing. It was so reminiscent that Ellen couldn’t help but fall back into old patterns and asked just how Jo had done handling her old boyfriend since they’d last talked and queried just what Jo had done to turn her old ‘hero’ Gordon against her. The reaction had been icy but even more standard Jo than the screaming - a slammed door and a hiss that she was a grown-up and didn’t have to answer to Ellen anymore - but a firm grip on the other’s arm had stopped the chance of her storming out like the rebellious fifteen-year-old she’d been the last time they had this conversation.

Jo had been quiet and petulant, and tugged and pulled to free herself, but all Ellen could see was her pouting teenage daughter who thought she was strong enough, fast enough, good enough to be out on those dusty roads where she was going to end up dead and gnawed on by some monster. More than she already was, given the scarring on her neck that Ellen had heard through Bobby had been a very nasty accident. All she could see was that same child that wouldn’t listen to her, and screamed that it was Ellen’s fault that her daddy left so often and why couldn’t she be nice and understanding for once.

Ellen had shaken her head then as she let go of her glaring daughter and decided that was it. That was the moment she was done. She’d tried her best to protect her. She’d worked for years with a petulant, stubborn reckless brat of a child with daydreams and fantasies about her perfect father that Ellen could never quite scrub the idealistic glint from. She’d given her all and yet it never had an impact. And she was done. She was done trying to reign the other in, and fix her mistakes, and rescue her from her back choices. She was done trying to protect Jo from herself.

She’d not said as much to the raging blonde though. She’d waited a moment before sighing and simply saying that she was done. She was out.

“I’m not going to be hunting anymore, Jo, you’re going to finally be on your own. I hope you do know what you’re doing for once.”

---

Jo - 05/16/14 I love you mom. Hope today has been okay for you.

You near Chicago still?

Ellen - 05/18/14 Moved last month. Decided to try New York for a while. Moving as much as you hunt.

Jo - 07/23/14 Got a case in New York if you’re around might drop by?

Ellen - 07/26/14 Moved last week - down in Florida.

Jo - 12/24/14 Merry Christmas mom! I was going to go down to get some sun if you were still in Florida somewhere?

Ellen - 01/12/15 Hope you had good holidays and actually spent time with people not your knives. I’ve actually moved to a spot in Texas and going to Michigan next month likely.

Jo - 02/12/15 Got a case near Michigan! Happy to see your daughter?

Ellen - 02/13/15 Would but I stayed in Texas Nothing that would excite you here

Jo - 05/16/15 You ANYWHERE in the continental US this month?

Ellen - 05/20/15 How about I tell you next time I have time in MY schedule for once, Joanna Beth, rather than you thinking you and your gladding about as a hunter means everyone else has to operate under your schedule?

---

“You heard anything?”

“Since when?” Bobby grumbled the words back at her with a sharp look, and Jo quickly lowered her own voice as she watched his glance through the open doors into the kitchen where Dean was working on dinner. Or at least, what Dean called dinner. They were likely having some kind of tater-tot casserole - but at least Jo knew it would still be a dish made with love given how flustered the man seemed to be trying to cook for more than just himself and maybe Sam for once. Sam was resting upstairs in one of the spare beds after the boys had rolled in from a demon-hunt that’d resulted in a sore back for the taller hunter and a nasty gash on the other’s face that he covered with the worst bandaging Jo’d ever seen when she arrived. “I ain't heard nothing from your mom since more than a year passed.”

“Yeah?” Jo frowned to herself slightly, rubbing at the back of her neck as she thought about it. “Been longer than that since I last saw her.”

“Oh?” Bobby’s tone reeked of surprise, and Jo couldn’t quite meet the concerned and caring look in his eye as he seemed to take in that information. It was a surprise of course. Even when Jo’d been on the road without Ellen’s so called permission - despite her being a grown-ass-woman at the time - Jo had heard back from her more than she was now. Bobby knew how much the other had kept tabs on her, and especially through him as it was. “All I can say is that she hasn’t been in touch with me to follow up on your, Jo.”

Jo frowned all over again at that. It was so unusual and she had expected despite Ellen’s claims that she was out of hunting that she would keep tabs on her still. It was just what she’d always done. Ellen had never given her the chance to not be watched really - and thus half of the appeal of a strong, charismatic older hunter offering a chance away from Ellen’s control and watchful spies had been all the more - but that her mom really had stepped out from the hunter-sphere felt surprisingly okay.

Jo was standing on her own two feet, and even more than that, she was thriving on her own really.

“Ah well, I can’t really expect she’d want to keep up with things given I still haven’t changed how she wants yet.” Jo finally added after a long moment’s silence and taking a long drag from her beer. “Not bein’ a so called grownup and given up this huntin’ nonsense.”

“That what you think her issue is?” Bobby grumbled the words out, taking a long sip of his scotch as he considered her quietly for a moment. “Not the monster boyfriend?”

“Ha, all she wanted was me to settle down. I think she’s more angry he isn’t tryin’ to control my life like she did Daddy’s.” “He doesn’t stop you hunting?” “Not at all. Grey’s always respectful that huntin’ is what I do.” “Hmm.”

Jo let out a quiet laugh as she looked at the grumpy but believing look the other gave her for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. “Pretty sure even if I wasn’t datin’ Grey, and wasn’t huntin’ she’d still not be happy or care all that much-”

“Jo, that’s your mom. She’ll always care about you,” Dean chimed in as he moved through from the kitchen, a disapproving frown on his face as he stared down at Jo for a moment. “It ain’t like you’re some horrible person that nobody could care about, and even then - she’s still your mom. Mother’s always love you.”

Jo felt a little shiver down her spine at those words, shaking her head to rid the tiny spark of fear they’d brought up, before letting out an exhausted sounding laugh. “You can think that if you like Deano. I’ll just know that I ain’t what my momma ever wanted in a kid and that she’s goin’ to be disappointed s’long as I’m not workin’ some kid-friendly job with a bun in the oven and a banker husband with a white picket fence. It’s fine.”

Dean gave her an even more disapproving look, which Jo shook her head again to rid before pointing a finger at him. “You shut up and sit down here so I can fix that hideous bandage, then you can fight with me ‘bout it.”

The other hunter followed instructions with a quiet grumble, and Jo moved to grab Bobby’s first aid kit but found herself smiling softly as she heard the older hunter talking softly to the other man as she left the room.

“You know, she’s probably right. Jo’s always had so much more of her dad in her - it’s like Bill ain’t never left.”

---

Jo - 03/10/16 Not sure what you’re up to, but if you had a date/time to catch up would love to see you, mom

Jo - 04/07/16 Thank you for having me. Happy birthday for me. You free sometime?

Jo - 05/16/16 I miss you mom I miss dad Are you free?

Jo - 08/28/16 Wanted to see where you were at in case I’m ever nearby?

---

The sound of the siren was sharp and high pitched. It was endless and whirring. And all over the sound of it’s cry she could hear another cry. Someone sobbing and gasping and crying in pain. It was a ragged and harsh sound, and it made her ears and mind hurt to hear the pain in each gasp.

“The driver’s here! She’s breathing!” The voice was unfamiliar and in the state of fog right then, Ellen was sick of trying to differentiate yet another new voice. She heard a hiccup in the crier’s voice, but then the other voice continued again - shouting for the jaws of life and a gurney.

She tried to shake the voices away, the wailing siren too, but all that did was make the crier scream out in agony. Her agony, Ellen realised belatedly as she felt her neck stiff and painful and her head ring in an oddly disjointed way at her attempt to move. It was her crying. She rarely heard the sound, it was so odd to think of herself crying.

She had used to cry silently all the time - alone in bed, or in the shower, or out the back of the bar taking a ‘smoke’ break with no cigarettes when some hunter would come in hurt and dying or dead - but she had stopped after she’d lost her husband. Why cry over the other men foolish enough to follow him into death with their insane line of work? Why keep spilling her tears over a man who hadn’t cared enough about her to stay home? Why cry over what she saw had been falling apart even before they had been married a year?

She had cried afterwards though over someone else - tears had been spilt for years as she watched the lure of the same dangers draw her daughter in. Ellen had tried to stop it, but no one could stop the inevitable. And by the time her daughter had died in her arms and she’d been blown sky high along with her, she had been sure she’d shed her last tears over her husband’s choices to ruin her life. She should have packed up and left year, decades, earlier to try for any happiness but she’d failed her daughter and more importantly herself so the tears had burned away too.

Getting back, Ellen had not cried again. Why cry over her daughter being stupid enough to continue the same path where she left off? Why cry over hunters still, thirty years on? Ellen was sick of crying over hunters and she had left them behind her. It had been for her, and she deserved to be happy.

Sucking in a painful breath that felt more like liquid than air that left her gasping and crying as the paramedic tried to free her from her seat - Ellen was glad this was the time she was crying again. This seemed valid to cry about. Everything hurt but somehow nothing did either. Everything was a fog and quiet but oh so loud too. It seemed right to cry then.

Her life in Swainsboro, Georgia had been great. She’d been working at a few different jobs before getting a managers position at a small bookshop-slash-coffeeshop. She’d made many friends and been part of a community garden. She’d gone to church and been the only one to know that the God they prayed to was truly real and could listen if He wanted. She sometimes even sent a prayer to him that her old friends were safe and okay. She had been part of a council Beautification team working to make the community better. She had helped at the Church and at the local library reading story time every Tuesday and Thursday morning. She had been the Ellen she’d always wanted to be with a small dog and a cute little house that had no iron and no saltlines and no warding against the supernatural under every doorstep. She had been the woman she’d always dreamed she would be.

Her life had been a dream in the small quiet part of the world, and letting out a last hollow cry, Ellen could feel the world slipping from her in a way she did not experience the first time and could only think that she was glad this time she could die happy with the way her life had been. If only the rest of those she cared for could say the same.

---

“This number is no longer in service. For information, contact the phone service provider.” - 04/07/17

---

“Who’s that?” Jo found herself asking as she leaned against the counter top of the Police station. She was hear on a case the next town over but who didn’t have their own station and as such had their records stored there in Swainsboro. Her suit felt awkward and stiff but she knew that was just her own discomfort being surrounded by law enforcement rather than the suit itself - loving selected on a shopping trip with her sister earlier that year - given the quality of the fabric and the flattering cut of the pencil skirt and jacket that showed off her curves but in a way that still worked perfectly for a Federal agent cover but also a flirty journalist. Today it was Agent Bennet after some very important files about the cow mutilations and missing girls the next town over.

“Who?” “That photograph there.”

“Oh, you mean Mrs Helving!” The friendly dark haired woman working the counter replied, moving over to unpin the photograph of the middle aged woman. “Well, actually, I guess you mean Mrs Jane Doe.”

“Huh?” “She’s one of our unidentified persons-” “What?”

Jo felt like she’d just been doused in ice water as she looked between the photograph of her mother’s face smiling in a way Jo never really remembered seeing before and the officer. Her mother looked back up at her from the photograph - sure her hair was a little less grey and her eyes held more shine and the clothes she wore looked like a Sunday Church goer, but it was still her mom.

“Mrs Helv- uh, you know what, no, Mrs Helving.” The officer smiled gently, a touch of sadness in the woman’s face as she took in the photo over the counter across from Jo, before shaking her head. “Or at least that’s how she was known around town. She was so lovely - worked the Sunday School, and was part of the community garden, and ran the bookshop for old Mr Jenkins - but such a shame.”

“Shame?” Jo asked quietly handing the photograph back with a frown. “What’s a shame?”

“Well, that’s the thing. She wasn’t Mrs Helving! It was an alias!” The officer was wide eyed and sounded shocked to herself at such gossip, putting the photograph back gently. “Turns out all her identification papers were fake, and we only found out after the car crash that she wasn’t who she said she was.”

Jo frowned to herself, tucking her hands into her suit pockets to hide the slight shakes as she looked across curiously. As the officer looked back at her, Jo raised a brow in silent question.

“It was a few months ago. Poor dear!” The other woman shook her own head as she moved to sit back down at her counter with a sigh. “Back during the winter we had an unexpected snow storm. It wasn’t so bad, but poor poor Mrs Helving was in a car crash out on the interstate coming to help pack down the Nativity scene just after new years and her car was driven from the road by an eighteen wheeler. Died right after the paramedics arrived.”

“Oh.” Jo found herself letting out a quiet whoosh of breath as she looked away out the window for a moment, before forcing herself to shake the thought as another officer came out the back with the file boxes she was after. Work first, deal with that second. “Thanks, can I have an office?”

As she moved around to a spare room to read through the paperwork she was after, Jo opened a few tabs on her phone as well to research about the so-called Mrs Helving and her lovely life in Georgia. It wasn’t hard to find what she’d been up to, how the last few years had been, and how respected and cared for Ellen must have been the way she had been back in her domain of the Roadhouse - and yet the effervescent smile in place at all times was the way that never appeared at the last place. Ellen’s life looked great, and like she’d been happier off leaving the world of hunters and pain behind.

Jo had finished with her paperwork and made her way out of the station and towards the local diner to get a good dinner before setting off back to the hunting grounds of what definitely looked to be a lone vampire. She found herself eating her meal quietly, eyes on the articles and Facebook posts and every little thing she could find about her mother’s life, before she pushed away and somehow found herself drawn to the local cemetery the funeral notice had stated she would be resting.

Mrs Ellen Helving 01.07.17 She sowed courtesy and reaped friendship

She planted kindness and gathered love

Looking at it, Jo couldn’t help but let out a laugh at such ridiculousness.

That wasn’t the memory of her mother - it wasn’t what she would have put on such a tombstone and it wasn’t what she would ever say of Ellen Harvelle. Sure, she had been courteous and kind, made friends and shared a loving care for those that came through her door, but that wasn’t what a hunting-widow was made of. Ellen Harvell had been fire and fury, rage and coldness, and an ever present fear of the world outside of the Roadhouse doors where she couldn’t see or control things. That was what Jo would remember of her mother - not some kind woman who was open and loving to all. That wasn’t the tombstone where her mother rested. Her mother had left a charred building and slaughtered hounds of Hell in her wake, she had left a grave marker more in line with the fire that fueled her life.

A bouquet of flowers left behind was all that Jo really felt necessary when she had finished laughing at the tombstone. A small respectful set of flowers for a woman that Jo knew she didn’t know, a stranger with her mother’s past but without the baggage. The words were about a woman Jo never got to know - not the mother Jo had gotten, but how Ellen always should’ve been - and the end of her life seemed as normal as Jo knew she’d always wanted it to be.

Something felt hollow about it, but as Jo set off back to the next town - she knew that Carthage was only a few hours out of her way back home, and maybe she could leave some flowers at her real mother’s grave.

---

#cc #ca #jopov #ellenpov

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years ago

Text

Thomas Sanders?!

Summary: Thomas Sanders is the same lovable former Viner and current Youtuber as we all know him And Roman, Patton, Logan, and Virgil? They're some of his biggest fans Warnings: Food mention, a few swears, non-descriptive panic attack, breaking traffic law in the name of Gay Worry Pairings: Platonic LAMPT, romantic LAMP

Based off of this post from @lefaystrent

Roman was having a self-care day. That’s why he was wearing the prince outfit. Because he looked good in it, damnit, screw the occasional odd glances from strangers who were just jealous they weren’t as fabulous as he was.

The day had been going just as great as his hair looked (amazing, his hair looked amazing), and he had been five seconds away from buying an ice cream cone when he spotted him.

Thomas Sanders. Second puppy to have been turned into a human (see Patton for the original), laugh-out-loud funny, and hella gay. A man after his own heart, even if Roman’s love was already tied up in three other wonderful human beings.

Roman smiled as he turned from the ice cream stand towards the man. Did self-care include approaching an internet hero and seeing just how much flirting he could fit into one conversation?

Absolutely.

Thomas was loitering on the edge of the street, checking between his phone and the road, clearly waiting for a ride. He smiled when Roman tapped him on the shoulder, the easy happiness in his eyes faltering for a moment in confusion, though his tone was light when he asked, “Can I help you?”

“As I live and breathe, Thomas Sanders. What great adventure brings you here all the way from Florida?” Roman said by way of answering, beaming.

Thomas’s smile grew a bit as he recognized Roman was a fan, though he still seemed thrown-off by Roman’s garb. “Visiting a friend.” He answered.

“Just a friend?” Roman asked, cocky. “It’s an utter travesty a man such as yourself doesn’t have anyone… more in your life.”

“Yeah, haha, I’m lonely.” Thomas mostly muttered to himself before continuing, “I hate to sound rude, but can I ask about the clothes-”

“Hard to pull off, I know, but when you’re a prince, you’re born to wear anything with gold!” Roman said, dramatically posing to ensure the golden embellishments caught the sunlight. “And you don’t have to be lonely, you know.”

“Oh, I won’t be. Once my friend gets here.” Thomas agreed. “And while you do wear the outfit very well-”

“You flatter me.” Roman interrupted with a grin, displaying his pearly whites as he grabbed Thomas’s free hand. He brought it to his lips, brushing the lightest of kisses to the back of it while Thomas’s cheeks brightened a shade. “But what else should a mere prince expect from a king?”

Thomas didn’t have a chance to respond before a car was pulling up at the curb, the passenger side door being pushed open a moment later.

Thomas pointed at the door with the hand holding his phone. “This is, uh, my ride.”

Roman graciously released Thomas’s hand, bowing as Thomas slowly climbed into the car. As the car drove off, he kept grinning to himself, turning back towards the ice cream stand.

He had earned a banana split.

Patton was feeding the ducks.

He did it every afternoon he had free time, bringing out corn or bird seed for the cute little duckies and their cute little duckling children. And today was such a nice day, with a gentle breeze, and the sun was out, no clouds in sight, Patton was content to sit there all day.

That was, until he saw a certain man walking down the path across the pond.

Patton recognized him immediately, having watched enough of his videos to know that uncontrollable hair, carefree expression, and likely unwashed purple bubble shirt. He waited at his position for a moment, expecting Thomas to turn the path to walk around the pond and towards him, but he took the branching one that lead into the small group of trees instead.

Managing to resist his fanboy instincts for two seconds, Patton quickly succumbed to the chance to meet such an amazing kiddo, wrapping up the bird seed bag and stuffing it into his pocket as he raced towards the former Vine and current Youtube star.

He didn’t realize he had started excitedly shrieking until Thomas, still pretty far ahead of him, turned around in fearful worry, looking for the source of the sound. Thomas stopped in place when he saw Patton, looking torn between waiting for the stranger to reach him and bolting.

Patton reached him before he could run away, smiling almost as broadly as he had been when he started dating each of his amazing boyfriends. “Tom! Thomas! Tomathy! It’s you! I’m a big fan!” He exclaimed, excitedly, happily flapping his hands.

Thomas smiled, Patton’s joy easily infectious. “It’s just Thomas. But I’m always glad to meet a fan! Especially one who seems to like my content so much.”

Patton’s smile turned a touch bashful. “Ah, shucks, kiddo, it’s just common sense to like what you make! You’re such a positive influence!”

“That’s incredibly nice of you to say.” Thomas said, smile growing.

“It’s just the truth!” Patton responded before deciding to try and press his luck as he continued, “I hope I don’t sound prying if I ask if you’re busy right now?”

Thomas shrugged. “Accidentally got myself locked out of my friend’s house, so I’m pretty free for the next few hours.”

Patton took the corn bag out of his pocket and shook it. “Want to feed some ducks with me?”

Thomas didn’t respond at first, thinking it over, before he nodded. “I think that’d be fun.”

Still grinning, Patton pulled Thomas back over to the pond, already halfway through every adorable duck fact he knew.

Logan closed the door quietly behind him, unsure how many of his boyfriends were asleep. It wasn’t terribly late, only a little past dinner, but once the meal has been eaten any bedtime was fair game. On a particularly tiresome day, Virgil had fallen asleep at the table two seconds after he complimented Patton on the food.

He was only a few feet over the threshold, however, when there was a sudden swell of Disney singing and someone scooping him up to swirl him through the air. Logan smiled slightly and didn’t try to fight it, the attack a familiar routine since he had moved in with Roman.

After a moment, he was more or less gracefully put down, his slight wobble stopped in a heartbeat as Roman caught one of his hands, helping balance Logan while kissing it. Logan rolled his eyes in poorly veiled amusement.

“Good evening, Roman.” He greeted, treasuring a true kiss as his boyfriend let their hands drop, Roman still holding Logan’s hand. “How are you, my imperial legate?”

Roman grinned. “I don’t know what that means at all, but I am as radiant as ever!”

Logan’s smile turned a shade more amused. He had been working his way up the chain of command in Roman military, and Roman had reacted to each nickname based solely on how complicated they sounded. “That is good to hear.”

“And you, my boundless starlight?”

“I am doing quite well.” Logan replied before glancing around what little of the house he could see from the foyer. “Where are Virgil and Patton?”

Roman gasped and pressed a hand to his chest. “Dearest Logan, am I not enough to fulfill your loving boyfriend needs?”

“You are more than enough, love, and I mean that in the worst way.” Logan said, though his words may have held some weight if they weren’t so burdened with fondness. “I simply have news to share I think all three of you will find interesting.”

“They’re we’re off on our quest to find them!” Roman declared, tugging Logan through the house as he launched into song, “We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz!”

Roman was barely into the second line of his song before he was barreling into Virgil, who looked startled but not surprised by his boyfriend’s shenanigans. A little yelp was all the protest he gave as Roman grabbed his hand and kept going onwards.

They managed to collectively stop before running into Patton, who had been heading down the hallway with a laundry basket in his arms. The stop was too quick, however, and the three boyfriends tumbled down with each other, their flailing bringing Patton and their clothes down too.

Sprawled on the floor, covered in warm clothes, Patton was the first to laugh, giggling. Roman quickly joined in with a hearty laugh, Virgil falling victim as well before Logan gave in with quiet chuckles.

“Well, that was a clothes fall.” Patton joked.

“Patton… did you just combine two separate puns into one?”

A new round of giggles answered Logan’s question. He let out an exasperated sigh and planted his face in his hands.

“Why am I dating you, again?”

Patton scooted over to Logan, snuggling into his side and resting his head on his shoulder. “Because you looooove me.”

“Sadly.” Logan said, but he let his hands fall from his face to instead wrap around Patton, planting a kiss to his forehead.

“Aww.” Roman cooed, sounding properly in love before he flopped on top of Virgil and whined, “Look at all the attention I’m not getting!”

Virgil patted his head. “No offense, Ro, but I think anything less than the whole world’s attention isn’t enough for you.”

Suddenly smirking, Roman lifted a hand to cup Virgil’s face. “Good thing the only thing the world’s currently focused on is me, my dear universe.”

Virgil blushed and quickly changed the topic, “You going to tell us why you were so intent on bowling everyone in this house over, Princey?”

“Logan had something to tell the three of us.” Roman responded, sitting up so he could cradle Virgil’s face in both his hands. “Though I’m sure whatever news he might bear could never be as interesting as your eyes, deep as wells that I might drown in; never be equal in the beauty of your smile, which Aphrodite herself could not match; never be as important as your mere existence held comfortably in my arms-”

“The news, Logan?!” Virgil asked, voice high and cheeks very much aflame, only standing to increase Roman’s smirk as he took advantage of Virgil’s fluster to press light kisses across his face.

Logan chuckled lightly. “It is not that intriguing, as I am aware two of you have already interacted with him, but I saw Thomas Sanders on my way home tonight.”

Roman pulled away from Virgil to look at Logan, his emo boyfriend looking both relieved and put out at the loss of his attention. “You did?! What did he say?!”

“I am not sure.” Logan responded, one hand running fingers through Patton’s hair. “I did not interact with him.”

At this, all his boyfriends turned to look bewilderedly at him. “You… you saw Thomas Sanders and you didn’t even try to talk to him?” Virgil asked incredulously.

Logan shrugged. “He seemed occupied with his evening wanderings, and I did not wish to bother him. And, attempting to interact with him would have required me to go in a direction that would not have kept me heading homeward bound.”

“Thomas Sanders is a man to go out of your way for.” Roman said vehemently, Patton and Virgil nodding seriously in agreement.

“I will keep that in mind if I see him again.” Logan replied. “Assuming I am not once more hurrying home after missing dinner.”

“Aw, Lolo, are you saying you missed a chance to talk to Thomas Sanders so you could see us sooner?” Patton asked.

“That, and I truly did not wish to bother him-”

Patton ignored Logan’s second reason, wrapping his own arms around his boyfriend as he exclaimed, “Lolo really loves us!”

Logan scoffed but didn’t attempt to break the tight hold he now found himself in. “I thought that was already abundantly clear.”

“Yeah, but skippin’ out on meeting Thomas Sanders for an extra five minutes with us? That’s, like, the truest form of love.” Virgil said.

“I believe you are all in desperate need of a, uh,” Logan stopped combing through Patton’s hair to pull a pile of crumpled cards out of his back pocket, flipping through them before flashing one of them at his boyfriends, “reality check?”

“I’m happy you’re getting your slang down, teach, but considering in this case you are actually in the wrong, it’s you who needs the reality check.”

Before Logan could argue the point, a beeping noise interrupted the four of them. Patton quickly detached from Logan’s side, more or less throwing himself to his feet as he ran for the kitchen. “My cookies!”

Logan stood up. “I am going to make sure he does not burn himself. Might we shelve this silly discussion for another time?”

Virgil shrugged as he started helping Roman pick up the clothes. “‘Long as you accept you missed the chance to meet one of the greatest men in the world there is no discussion.”

Logan crouched next to Virgil at those words, whispering, “My dearest lamprotornis purpureus, Roman put it quite adequately when he likened you to the world. So long as we remain in each other’s orbits, how could a single man matter at all?” He pressed a kiss to Virgil’s cheek before heading back off towards the kitchen, leaving Virgil and Roman alone in the hallway.

Roman chuckled at Virgil’s frozen in place expression. “Starstruck, are we?”

In response, Virgil hid his bright red face in one of his shirts as he screamed.

Virgil was hiding from his boyfriends.

After Roman and Logan decided last night was fluster Virgil night, Patton had promptly joined in, until every other comment was fully intended to burn his cheeks a permanent shade of crimson. Now, had he enjoyed the attention? Absolutely, but it was for his dignity that he was currently boycotting love and affection.

Because that was going to last longer than two hours when he inevitably got sick of people and sunlight and came home of his own freewill.

Despite it being a lovely afternoon, the streets were mostly empty, the middle of the week not being ideal for a day off or a trip that would bring tourists by. Not that Virgil minded. The emptiness was nice. Judging the few people that went by was nicer.

Like, take the only dork Virgil could currently see. He was standing in the middle of the street, playing on his phone, probably addicted or something, and his hair was such an unkempt mess he had to keep brushing it back. He was wearing a Steven Universe shirt, so at least he had taste-

Wait.

Virgil stopped his walk, squinting at the man far down the street. It couldn’t be-

Shit.

It was.

Before Virgil could do the reasonable thing, like run and never mention this happened as to avoid mocking from Roman and a satisfied eyebrow raise from Logan, Thomas looked up from his phone and- fuck he made eye contact with Virgil.

Thomas raised his hand, waving at Virgil with a smile, already lowering his phone. Before Virgil could process anything else- or even think using some common sense- he had jumped behind the nearest bench.

Pressing against the back of it, Virgil fought to keep his breathing normal. As soon as he wasn’t on the verge of hyperventilating, he would just peek out, and make a break for it as soon as he had determined where Thomas was. Focused on his breathing, Virgil didn’t hear the hurried footsteps approaching the bench

He had, in fact, just gotten his breathing under control when a head popped over the edge of the bench. “Hi there. Uh, you okay, buddy?”

To say Virgil freaked out might have been an overstatement. He just shrieked a little and scooted away from the head fast enough to seriously bruise his shoulder. His not-freaking out was not improved by realizing it was Thomas Sanders who had come over to check on him.

` Thomas raised his hands calmingly as he settled down in a crouch in front of Virgil. “Hey, hey it’s alright. I just want to help. Can you breathe with me?” He asked, curling his hands into fists before popping out his fingers in a 4-7-8 pattern.

As he fully calmed down, Virgil was hit with the thought that this was his first and probably only encounter with Thomas Sanders, and it was because he was having a panic attack. Just from Thomas Sanders seeing him.

He was never going to live this down.

Once his breathing was regular once more, Thomas lowered his hands onto his knees, tapping his fingers. “You okay?” He asked again.

Virgil nodded his head. Thomas nodded with him.

“That’s good.” Thomas said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“V-Virgil.”

Thomas smiled gently. “That’s a nice name. Now, Virgil, do you live nearby?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Okay. Is there anyone you can call to pick you up? I’d feel better knowing you were in good hands before I left.”

Virgil nodded, digging a hand into his hoodie. Except-

Virgil’s eyes widened as he realized he had left his phone at home, having been too busy being faux annoyed at his boyfriends to remember to grab it. Realizing what was wrong, and that Virgil seemed ready to spiral again, Thomas quickly pulled his own phone out of his pocket and offered it to him.

“Here.” He said, pushing it a little more forwards when Virgil stared at it like it was alien technology. “You can use my phone to call them. You remember their number, yeah?”

After another moment, Virgil nodded and took the phone, quickly putting in his and his boyfriends’ home number.

“Hello.”

“Logan.” Virgil said, shakily, more relieved than he wanted to admit.

Logan’s tone immediately softened. “Virgil? Are you alright? Where are you?”

“I-I’m fine.” Virgil said, mostly not a lie as long as he didn’t focus on the fact he was using Thomas Sanders’s phone to call his boyfriend, while Thomas Sanders waited in front of him, after Thomas Sanders helped him with his panic attack. “And, uh, at the corner of fourth and main. Uh, c-can you come pick me up?”

Virgil heard Logan speak to someone else, followed by the sound of keys jingling. “We will be there in five minutes, alright, Virgil?”

Virgil nodded into the phone before he realized Logan needed a verbal answer. “Uh, yeah. But, um, did you say five minutes? I thought the drive was fifteen-”

“Five minutes, Virgil.” Logan repeated. “See you soon.”

“Yeah.” Virgil replied before hanging up the phone. He handed it back to Thomas, who put it back into his pocket without breaking eye contact with Virgil.

“Someone coming?” He asked, more to be sure than actually wondering.

Virgil was halfway through a nod before he cleared his throat and answered, “Yeah. They’ll, uh, they’ll be here soon, so if you want to go…”

“I think I’ll wait, just to be sure.” Thomas said, still smiling as gentle as snowfall. He moved from his crouch to sit criss-cross on the ground. “So,” He started after a moment, “you’re a fan? At least I assume that’s why you sprinted into hiding when I saw you.”

Virgil’s expression turned sheepish. “Y-yeah…”

“I get that.” Now Thomas looked a little sheepish. “Met Brendon Urie in a park a few months ago. I think I just sorta screamed at him and ran.”

“Well, what are you supposed to do? Not panic?” Virgil asked, smiling a little. “I think it’s disrespectful if you’re calm.”

“I guess so. I just feel silly. Celebrities are just people, y’know? I say it enough you think I’d remember.”

“Brendon Urie is not ‘just people.’”

“Fair point.” Thomas agreed with a laugh. Virgil chuckled a little with him. He only stopped when he saw his boyfriends’ car pull up near the curb, Roman and Patton piling out in an instant while Logan turned it off.

Thomas managed to scoot to the side before Patton shot past him, trapping Virgil in an embrace tighter than a python’s. He pulled away a moment later, frantically running his hands over Virgil. “Are you okay? Did you get attacked? Mugged? Fall?”

“I’m physically fine, Pat, don’t worry.” Virgil assured his boyfriend, grabbing his hands to stop them from patting him down for the third time in a minute. “And even if I wasn’t, I don’t think I would’ve worried.” He glanced at Logan, who was now approaching the group, keys in hand. “Three minutes? How’d you manage that, specs?”

Logan shrugged. “I hit the lights right, I suppose.”

Roman snorted. “More like ran all of them. And drove ten miles over the limit. And honked, a LOT.”

“I may have bent a few rules.” Logan said, crossing his arms. “I was concerned.”

“As we all were!” Patton added. “You forgot your phone! And then a stranger was calling, but it was you, and Logan almost didn’t pick up, what if he hadn’t picked up, Virgil?!”

“I would have tried again.” Virgil responded, gently rubbing the backs of Patton’s hands. He seemed even more stressed than he had been. “And it wasn’t like a complete stranger was calling.”

“What do you mean?” Patton asked, still distressed. Virgil nodded at Thomas, who had been quietly watching out of the way. He waved a little.

“Uh, Patton, right?” Thomas said. “You were feeding ducks in the park a few days ago?”

Patton’s eyes widened and he turned back to Virgil. “You called us on Thomas Sanders’s phone?!” At Virgil’s nod, he squealed. “You’re forgiven for worrying us.”

Thomas chuckled. “You guys are really big fans, aren’t you?”

“Patton was the,” Logan once more dug into his pocket, flipping through index cards for a few seconds before finding the proper one, “OG fan. It was not hard to persuade Roman and Virgil to join his obsession.” Logan said, nodding at each boyfriend in turn.

“Like you aren’t just as big a fan as we are.” Roman accused, sliding down next to Virgil as he did so, slinging an arm around him.

“My downfall was allowing myself to be confined to a bed with the three of you keeping me up every other night with Youtube marathons.” Logan returned.

“You can pretend to be annoyed by it but I know you can quote most of the ‘Ask the Expert’ videos from memory.”

Logan huffed. “I hate you.”

Roman poked at his shin. “No you don’t.”

“You can’t prove that.”

Roman leaned up, still holding Virgil as he managed to wrap his hand around Logan’s wrist, nodding seriously after a moment. “Ah, yes, Logan you appear to have a pulse, which means you’re in love with me. I’d apologize, but being stuck in love with one of the most handsome, breathtaking people in the world is hardly a tragedy.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Thomas laughed quietly as he stood up. “I’m going to take it that Virgil’s in good hands with his, eh, boyfriends, yeah?”

“It would be a crime for a man as captivating as Virgil to be tied to only one partner!”

Virgil groaned. “Roman, this is why I left.”

Roman released Logan’s wrist to pick up Virgil bridal style, ignoring the shriek of surprise as he started to say, sing-song, “But the gay got you anyway~” Twirling away with him towards the car while Patton giggled and followed.

Logan fondly watched them wander off before turning back to Thomas. He offered the internet celebrity a genuine if small smile. “I would like to thank you for helping out Virgil.”

Thomas shrugged it off. “Ah, it was nothing. I’m just happy he’s okay. And that he has such good boyfriends to take care of him.”

Logan nodded before putting out his hand. Thomas took it after a moment and they shook hands.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Thomas. Have a good day.”

“You too, Logan.” Thomas responded in farewell, remaining on the sidewalk as Logan climbed back into the driver’s seat and turned the car homewards.

They were halfway there when Virgil jerked upwards, out of where he had been (illegally) foregoing his seatbelt to lay on Patton’s lap.

“Something wrong, honey?” Patton asked.

“I called you guys on Thomas Sanders’s phone.” Virgil said before wildly turning to look at Patton. “That means Thomas Sanders has our phone number!”

“So?” Logan asked, glancing at the rearview mirror to see the top of Virgil’s head.

“That means Thomas Sanders could call us! Whenever he wanted!”

Roman chuckled from his position in the passenger seat. “As wondrous as that idea is, I find it doubtful to be anything more than a fantasy.”

“Roman is correct.” Logan agreed. “Thomas has absolutely no reason to contact us, and given how many fans he meets, I am fairly certain he will not even remember us that long.”

Virgil sighed and flopped back into Patton’s lap. “You’re probably right. Sure would be cool if he did though. And nerve-wracking.” He added. “Cool and nerve-wracking.”

Patton resumed running his hands through Virgil’s hair. “Well, I’m just glad we all got to meet him! Sure was the experience of a storytime!”

Logan groaned while his other boyfriends started laughing rather excessively given the pun. Focusing his attention back on the road, Logan didn’t even bother to pretend he wasn’t smiling just a little. It had been nice to meet Thomas, even if only briefly. In the end, however, he was perfectly fine with only seeing the Youtube star on the screen.

One week later, the phone rang.

Let’s just say it’s a good thing Virgil wasn’t the one to answer it.

#the cryptid answers #the cryptid speaks #lefay you said you'd die if this was written #pleas don't #then you can't write #if you like it #I just want a smile #:)#ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #thomas sanders #LAMP #platonic LAMPT #ts sides #sander sides #fanfic #fanfiction

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stillebesat · 5 years ago

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If I may, in the S.T.O.R.K au I believe you said that Virgil's Grandfather arranged the boating accident then proceeded to lie to both Virgil and Logan's Mom. May I ask what his motivation for that was? Did he not want Virgil to have Logan? Or what? Sincerely, Confuzzeled

There are a lot of motivations for why Virgil’s Grandfather, Ephraim Hawkins, arranged for the boating accident to happen. The major component though was that he saw in Maisey Sue (Logan’s Mom) the exact same type of woman that his first wife (Emma James) was. Emma and Maisey Sue are both women who are after the good things in life. Aka. Money. And Ephraim didn’t see how selfish and greedy his first wife was until after he got married to her. All she cared about was his money, his prestige, and his influence (as he is very rich coming from a very successful family line that’s been rich since before America was discovered) and that she didn’t actually love him. It was a horrible year of marriage for Ephraim until he could finalize the divorce and he never wanted any of his posterity to experience the same sort of circumstances.

Ephraim would send his prayers of gratitude to his God every single day that he had no child from Emma, as it would have complicated matters more throughly as he doubted he could take pride in a child born through her, though Emma did take a good chunk of change from him in the divorce. Wary of having another fake relationship, Ephraim dated/courted his second wife, Christine Lowe, for far longer than any of his fellow peers had because he wanted to check and triple check to make sure that she was wanting to be with HIM and not with him for his money or influence or prestige. Ephraim only had one son, Markov, and he was quite protective of his heir to the family fortune when his son grew old enough to begin dating/courting. (Ephraim had a hand in ending a fair few relationships outside of Markov’s knowledge, and many with his knowledge -but with less drastic measures) and nearly ended Markov’s relationship with Virgil’s mother, Taliyah Seeze, until she put her foot down and told him flat out, nothing he could do could get in the way of her love for his son because she would marry him even if he disowned Markov and left him penniless. (He became quite the doting father to her after that point.) But his fear only reemerged when Virgil was born as Ephraim wanted his grandson to marry for love too and not have a woman marry him for the money he would be set to inherit.

Ephraim could see from the first time that they met, at Virgil and Maisey Sue’s high school graduation, that the girl had eyes for the wealth of the Hawkins family. From how her eyes lingered on their clothes, their jewelry, the pictures on the walls of the family home, the molding…Ephraim could see all the subtle signs she was giving off that Maisey Sue may not care as much for his grandson as she was showing. (It didn’t change the couple of times they met up for family gatherings. Ephraim could see the greed shining in Maisey Sue’s eyes every time) But Highschool flings are often just that. Flings. And with college on the horizon Ephraim was hoping that things would fizzle out. (And there’s not much he can do when he lives in New York and Virgil grew up in Florida and went to school there) However, being the religious man that he is. Ephraim thought it was a major scandal and blemish to the family name when it came out that Maisey Sue had become pregnant and refused to marry Virgil until after the baby came. (She didn’t want to be fat on her wedding day). He saw her as a harlot who’d ruined his grandson and was trying to weasel her way into getting the family fortune because his great-grandson would gain part of the inheritance when Ephraim died which meant his mother would too. Not wanting his grandson to be in a loveless marriage, but knowing that Virgil was the loyal sort that would stick to his responsibilities and try and make a marriage work for the sake of his son, Ephraim set to plotting to find a way to get rid of the ‘problem’ so that Virgil wouldn’t feel weighed down or obligated to hold onto a toxic relationship and could move on and find true love and have a good family and children that would uphold the Hawkins name.

So around four months after Logan was born (and Maisey Sue felt good enough about her body to be seen in a wedding dress and the wedding that would occur in a couple more weeks) Ephraim invited them out on a boating trip on the lake. (A common occurrence for him as Ephraim loves the water and taking the family out on boating trips. This time it was just him, Virgil, Maisey Sue & Logan)

And while Ephraim didn’t have a personal vendetta against Logan, he could only picture the little monster growing up as greedy as his mother, Ephraim couldn’t see the gentle signs of his father Virgil in his great grandson. And it probably didn’t help at that time that Logan was quite the crier as he was rather fussy. (already sensing that his mother didn’t love him as much as she appeared to love him in front of others).

Ephraim had the whole thing plotted out. Things set up for the boat to explode if it was used in a certain way. So while they were in the middle of the lake, in the deeper waters and getting ready to head back to shore after a day out, he had Maisey Sue take the wheel, under the guise of giving her some practical learning experience. However, the explosion ended up being far stronger than expected, but happened closer to shore than planned, and Ephraim barely had time to shield Virgil from the blast before it knocked them all into the water. (Flying debris knocked Virgil out and he ended up in a brief coma) Getting his grandson onto a piece of the wreckage and ensuring he wouldn’t fall off, Ephraim swam to shore and ended up finding Maisey Sue (who had somehow managed to grab Logan and protect him (from “ah my source of money!!” instinct rather than a protective mother instinct) washed up on shore with her son in her arms. Logan overall looked fine. Maisey Sue ended up with some burns, mostly on her arms and back (as she turned to shield Logan as the explosion hit)

And in that moment…seeing Logan staring up at him with wide blue eyes…he couldn’t bring it in himself to kill the child. He ended up switching plans. Telling Maisey Sue that it was all her fault that the boat exploded and that she had killed Virgil due to her mishandling his boat (as Virgil was still floating out in the water out of Maisey Sue’s sight and she was quite shaken from her near death experience to not question Ephraim’s words.) He said that he would consider it an accident and wouldn’t send her to jail for killing him so long as she too vanished with Logan to never come near the Hawkins family again. He would tell everyone that the three of them had died out in the lake with Ephraim as the only survivor.

Maisey Sue wasn’t just going to turn tail and run though. She argued that she would have nothing as she wouldn’t be able to return their home to gather any of her things. So Ephraim agreed to send her the sum of $10,000 a month (small change for him) for her and Logan to live off of in exchange for her silence. (confirming to Ephraim that Maisey Sue was just in the relationship for the money and fame)

With a promise that she would take good care of Logan (as Ephraim said he would check in on occasion and make sure she hadn’t abandoned the boy)She took the deal (and made sure Ephraim gave her the first payment of $10,000 then and there) before she left for a hospital to be treated where she gave a fake name and story as to how she ended up injured and then moved back down to Florida though in a different area from where she grew up and cut all ties with the Hawkins family and her old life (except for the monthly payments Ephraim would send her)

Ephraim then returned to Virgil and when he woke up in the hospital, told him that Maisey Sue had somehow triggered an explosion on the boat and she and Logan had been lost in the lake and the bodies couldn’t be recovered. Virgil was devastated, but had no reason to suspect his grandfather of anything nefarious so believed his story to be true. Ephraim never saw Virgil get married, or even begin dating again as he passed away around 3 years later from natural causes, leaving his wife Christine, Markov & Taliyah, and Virgil behind as his heirs.

Maisey Sue had no idea that Ephraim had died until the monthly $10,000 check failed to show. She thought at first it might be a fluke, but when the second month came with no check she did a bit of research and discovered Ephraim’s obituary and realized that with his death her monthly income was now gone as well because Ephraim had never told a soul, not even his wife, about the monthly bribe of silence and had made no arrangements to continue it at all after his death.Maisey Sue doesn’t know that Virgil is still alive as she didn’t read the obituary that listed him as living posterity. She also doesn’t make any effort to contact Virgil’s parents because she believes Ephraim told them that she’s the reason why Virgil died and doesn’t want to explain why she’s still alive and why she hadn’t contacted them before now. (mostly she doesn’t want to end up in jail)

With no easy source of money, Maisey Sue’s compassion for Logan (as she was ensuring he was well taken care of so she could still earn her money) died as she saw him as her cash cow and with no money coming her way it meant Logan was useless to her and that he now became a burden, another mouth to feed as she struggled to find a job that would allow her to live and pay the bills which eventually leads to the events in A Special Delivery as she had finally reached the point where Remy could step in and take Logan from his mother and return him to Virgil.

I hope that answered your questions Confuzzeled Anon!! Sorry for the delay in response, but let me know if you have any more questions. ^^;;

#STORK AU #Maisey Sue #Virgil #Logan #Ephraim #Grandfather info #death talk tw #near death experience tw #toxic relationships tw #bad marriages tw #murder plot tw

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waltrp · 4 years ago

Photo

NO, DON’T PUSH US AWAY, HIRO. WE’RE HERE FOR YOU

BIDDI BOPPI BOOP A SPECIAL MESSAGE ADMIN ZULEMA: jill my queen, i know how long you’ve wanted to take up this angel and i’m so happy to finally bestow her to you. your sample for haven was amazing. You know this character inside and out. the love and passion you have translated perfectly into your para and i’m so excited to see what you do with her !! also nag me to finish the cast so i can see cute big hero 6 interactions on the dash lmfao. Please refer to THIS PAGE for your next tasks. We can’t wait to roleplay with you. Welcome to our Ohana xx.

It’s a pleasure to meet you…

Jill, 30, eastern, she/her

My favorite color is purple

My favorite super hero is Kate Bishop/Hawkeye

I’ve seen Parks & Rec so many times I can “watch” the show with my eyes closed

No triggers

Are you positive you can be active?

yes indeed

How did you stumble upon Walt?

we go way back

Did you read the rules?

yup!

Are you sure?

Scuttle

Character you want?

Haven Lemos

Please describe the character for us

When Haven was born, her parents said they could have sworn they gave birth to the sun, so bright and cheerful their little one was. Growing up wasn’t easy for Haven—her family immigrated from Cuba to the United States when she was small. Haven doesn’t remember a life in Cuba, but she knows that everything her parents have done was to secure a better life for their children, and because of that Haven has always admired them.

Haven’s formative years were spent in Miami, Florida, which meant that even though she was away from Cuba, she was able to grow up immersed in her culture even outside of her own home. The older she grew, the more responsibilities fell to Haven, but she took every one of them in stride. With parents that were constantly working to make ends meet, Haven spent much of her free time taking care of her siblings. She may have grown up faster than most kids her age, but Haven never let that get to her. Her optimism and sunny disposition were constant. Haven worked as hard as her parents in every thing she did. She wanted to make them proud and wouldn’t take their sacrifices for granted. One day, Haven hoped to take care of them the way they took care of her.

As a child, most of her peers found her to be strange. Haven has always been quirky and unique, and to top it off she was smart and her favorite subject was science. Most of the other kids couldn’t quite relate—their favorite subject was recess, long after recess stopped being a thing. Haven became one of the top students in science for their school district, and graduated with AP courses in biology, physics, and chemistry (her favorite). To Haven, the logical next stop was the prestigious San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. She wanted to attend the school so desperately, but knew that with her family’s financial situation, it was only a dream. But with a push from her chemistry teacher, Haven’s dreams came true: admission and a full scholarship.

At SFIT, Haven truly came into her own. She was surrounded by students similar to herself, and lucky enough to spend every day learning more about the thing she absolutely loved. Chemistry came naturally to the girl, and it wasn’t long before she was conducting her own experiments, hoping to push the subject to new heights, beyond anything the world already knew. The only thing that made the experience better than she could ever imagine was the group of friends she almost suddenly found herself a part of. She couldn’t imagine how she had managed a life without the four of them. She even had a nickname among the group: Honey Lemon. (You’d have to ask Freddy why.)

It didn’t take long for the crush to develop. Tadashi Hamada was her friend and her equal. How could she not fall in love? The friendship blossomed into a full-on mutual flirtation after the two were paired up for a class project. She loved everyone in their group, but Tadashi easily moved from best friend to boyfriend. Not wanting to disrupt the group dynamic, the duo decided it would be best to keep their relationship quiet for now. The transition started slowly, with stolen kisses when no one else was looking, and much more free time dedicated to simply spending time together. They would lie awake for hours in each other’s dorm rooms, talking about science, their lives, and their futures.

Haven and Tadashi never got the chance to make the possibility of a future between the two of them official. Their junior year, Tadashi helped his brother Hiro enter the SFIT school science fair. Haven had heard so much about Hiro, and the whole group was there to support Tadashi’s younger brother. The kid was only 13, but he may have been the smarted thirteen-year-old Haven had ever known. Even at his young age, Hiro would be a perfect fit at SFIT. When a mysterious fire broke loose at the fair, everything changed. Students, faculty, and visitors all evacuated, and not moments after the last person was out of the building, the whole place exploded. When the smoke cleared in the early hours of the morning, one thing was clear:

Tadashi never made it out of the building.

Haven had never imagined heartbreak to feel this way. A piece of her heart was missing, and Haven was sure it would never feel whole again. How do you move on from such a loss? Whatever Haven felt at the loss of Tadashi, she put on a brave face when around her friends. Haven wasn’t going to stop being the ray of sunlight and optimism she’d always been, for all of them, for herself, and especially for Hiro. The young boy had now lost both his parents and his older brother, and with all the love she had for Tadashi, she was going to look after Hiro as much as she could.

With SFIT destroyed, the students were relocated to Elias. The new location helped Haven move on. She graduated from Walt University with top honors and started working toward building the future she’d talked so often about with Tadashi. Now she’s attending graduate school, working part time in a lab, and working as a teaching assistant in the Walt chemistry department. Tadashi is on her mind constantly. But Haven is looking forward to better days.

Second character choice

n/a

It’s time to see that sample para.

Peach cream smudged cheeks. A thin, careful stroke of liner. Mascara. Waterproof. Uncertainty behind saddened eyes. Hair twisted up into a high bun. The best way to keep it out of her experiments. He’d casually remarked that one day. Still she let wispy bangs hang loose. A generous swipe of neutral toned lipstick. Lips pressed together to distribute the color, and Haven sighed.

Heartbreak wasn’t supposed to happen this way. The love of your life wasn’t supposed to die at twenty-one.

Haven stared at her reflection, and the person staring back at her seemed like a muted version of herself. A neutral face, hair up, black dress, black tights, black everything. Haven fidgeted with the peter pan collar at her neck, the white a stark contrast to everything else. It seemed both so wrong and right at the very same time. She’d never been one to conform, and for that moment she knew that even in his death, Tadashi would be proud. Glasses were carefully replaced to their spot at the bridge of her nose. She’d chosen the translucent pair for this occasion.

A faint drizzle had started as she stepped out from the dorms, and she wondered idly how long the students would be able to stay. There wasn’t exactly a school anymore, but that was a worry for Future Haven. The weather wasn’t a surprise, especially for northern California this time of year, but still it felt appropriate. As if they sky, too, knew of the tragedy they mourned today. Meteorology was a science, after all, and whether they knew it or not, the science community had suffered a great loss.

By the time they reached the cemetery, rain poured from the sky. A fitting welcome, Haven thought, quickly stepping beneath Wyatt’s unfurled umbrella. Hers was a bright pink, a perfect spot of brightness in normal dreary weather, but today that didn’t seem right. Eventually Haven knew she’d put on her bright sunny disposition as often as she could, but right now was a time to let themselves mourn.

The service wasn’t terribly long, expected due to the rain. The plot was near his parents’, and every so often, Haven would look over to glimpse at Hiro. She couldn’t imagine how he was handling things right now. When all was said and done, the group began to disperse, planning to gather afterwards at Aunt Cass’s where friends and family could drink tea and share memories. Their little friend group, now minus a member, lingered, and she’s pretty sure it was Leiko who shoved the umbrella in her hand before they, too, left for the Lucky Cat.

So this was it. Haven Lemos, alone, and Tadashi Hamada’s grave. The plot of grass where he’d lay forever. It wasn’t far from where his parents lay, the three of them at least together again in their final resting place. Haven’s eyes lingered on the headstone, and the hyphen within which Tadashi’s entire life lay. All of his accomplishments, his light, his laughter, his love, her love for him, his brain, his smile, reduced to a punctuation mark, followed by a date past which the two of them would never truly be a couple.

Moments passed until finally Haven knew it was time. Gently she placed her hand atop the marble headstone, caressing it as if she would his face. The ‘I love you’ was implicit; she needn’t speak those three little words aloud. Gathering herself, Haven tightened her grip on the umbrella before heading in the direction of the Lucky Cat Café to meet up with the others at Aunt Cass’s.

This wasn’t the last time she’d see this place.

Anything else, love?

sad breakfast club

#waaccept #disney rp #bio rp #rp #rpg #roleplay #animation rp #city rp #school rp #accepted

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shefanispeculator · 5 years ago

Link

Muller's first taste of professional film came working as a third assistant on the 1984 horror/thriller Company of Wolves. She then went on to work for International Film and Video, honoring her for her editing, producing, and directing skills.

Muller's goal was to become a successful director in her own right, and her big break came through a chance meeting with John Stewart (brother of Eurythmics' Dave Stewart) and Billy Poveda of Oil Factory, an established film production company.

She has directed over two hundred music videos and has been a longtime collaborator with Sophie Ellis-Bextor, No Doubt, Shakespears Sister, Garbage, Blur, Annie Lennox and Eurythmics. Her work with Annie Lennox won her a Grammy for the Diva video album. She also picked up an MTV Video Music Award for Lennox's 1992 hit "Why", and was also Grammy nominated for the Eurythmics' 1987 Savage video album. In total, Muller has directed over twenty videos for Lennox and Eurythmics and has a long time collaboration with producer Rob Small.

The video for "Stay" by Shakespears Sister in which she directed was spoofed by many British comedians at the time including French & Saunders and Mr. Blobby as well as winning the BRIT Award for Best Video and also The Music Week Award for Best Video at both of the ceremonies' 1993 Awards.

She has directed eleven videos for Sophie Ellis-Bextor including "Take Me Home", "Murder on the Dancefloor", "Catch You", two versions of "Music Gets the Best of Me" and "Love Is a Camera".

Muller has also directed nine videos for No Doubt as well as nine solo videos for Gwen Stefani. When No Doubt's "Don't Speak" won the award for Best Group Video at the 1997 MTV Video Music Awards, Stefani thanked her extensively, saying "I'd like to say that Sophie Muller is a genius." Stefani has also stated,

Sophie Muller is one of my most talented friends. She can and will only do projects that she is inspired by. She is driven by creativity and the love for what she does and as a result she never compromises. I consider her a true artist. I was a fan of Sophie's work before I even imagined working with her. She has a very pronounced style and taste that drew me in. I think she has the gift of being able to bring out the artist's personality, emotion and style. After working with her for the first time on our "Don't Speak" video, we became close friends [...]. On the set her direction is humble and simple, but she knows what she wants and knows when she gets it. A woman in charge in the male-dominated world of filmmaking makes the whole experience that much more exciting. [...] She has a way of making every cut have a reason and meaning. The videos have a life of their own and become better each time you watch them. I am always in shock the first time I see them and then after a few more times I am actually amazed. She has taught me a lot and I feel very lucky to have worked with her.[1]

The artwork for The Jesus and Mary Chain's 1994 album, Stoned & Dethroned, and the singles accompanying it, is composed entirely of stills from the video to the group's song "Sometimes Always", which was directed by Muller. She also directed the video for "Come On", which also appears on the album.

Muller states that her only ambition is to continue directing to her own high standards and to never grow bored. In 2004, she directed the socially aware video for Sarah McLachlan's "World on Fire",[2] where all but $15 of the entire $150,000 video budget was donated to charities. Recently, she has directed videos for Shakira, Mika, Kings of Leon, Brandon Flowers, Tom Odell and the critically acclaimed video for the Dixie Chicks, "Not Ready to Make Nice".

]

2010

Sade – "Soldier of Love"

Sade – "Babyfather"

Armin van Buuren vs. Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Not Giving Up on Love"

Cheryl Cole – "Promise This"

Cheryl Cole – "The Flood"

Brandon Flowers – "Only The Young"

Kings of Leon – "Radioactive"

2011

The Kills – "Satellite"

Ellie Goulding – "Lights"

Noah and the Whale – "L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N."

Birdy – "Skinny Love"

Sade – "Love Is Found"

2012

Alicia Keys – "Girl on Fire"

No Doubt – "Settle Down"

Beyoncé – "I Was Here"

No Doubt – "Push and Shove"

Labrinth feat Emeli Sandé – "Beneath Your Beautiful"

2013

Rihanna – "Stay"

Tom Odell – "Hold Me"

Garbage and Screaming Females – "Because the Night"

Lana Del Rey – "Young and Beautiful"[7]

Pink feat. Lily Rose Cooper – "True Love"

Birdy – "Wings"

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Wanderlust" (Álbum trailer)

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Young Blood"[8]

John Mayer featuring Katy Perry – "Who You Love"

Robin Thicke – "Feel Good"

Katy B – "Crying for No Reason"

2014

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Runaway Daydreamer"

Tim McGraw – "Lookin' for That Girl"[9]

Birdy – "Words As Weapons"

Katy B – "Still"

Garbage – "Girls Talk"

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Love Is a Camera"

OneRepublic – "Love Runs Out"

Gwen Stefani – "Baby Don't Lie"

Gwen Stefani – "Spark the Fire"

Labrinth – "Jealous"

Beck – "Heart Is a Drum"

Sam Smith – "Like I Can"

2015

Garbage – "The Chemicals"

Selena Gomez – "Good for You" (Version 1)

Selena Gomez featuring ASAP Rocky – "Good for You" (Version 2)

Misty Miller – "Happy"

One Direction – "Perfect"

Gwen Stefani – "Used to Love You"

2016

Gwen Stefani – "Make Me Like You"

The Kills – "Heart of a Dog"

Gwen Stefani – "Misery"

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – Familia album trailer

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Come With Us"

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Crystallise"

Gwen Stefani" – "Kuu Kuu Harajuku" (Theme Song Music Video)·

Noah Cyrus – "Make Me (Cry)"

2017

Wolf Alice – "Don't Delete the Kisses"

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Wild Forever"

London Grammar – "Big Picture"

The Kills – "Whirling Eye"

Tim McGraw and Faith Hill – "Speak to a Girl"

Sophie Ellis-Bextor – "Death of Love"

Morrissey – "Spent the Day in Bed"

Bebe Rexha feat. Florida Georgia Line – "Meant to Be"

2018

Kylie Minogue – "Dancing"

Julia Michaels – "Heaven"

Echosmith – "Over My Head"

Kylie Minogue featuring Gente de Zona – "Stop Me from Falling" (Remix)

Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson – "Bad Dreams"

Kylie Minogue – "Golden"

Bebe Rexha – "I'm a Mess"

Cheryl – "Love Made Me Do It"

Gwen Stefani feat. Blake Shelton – "You Make It Feel Like Christmas"

2019

Marina and the Diamonds – "Handmade Heaven"

Dido – "Give You Up"

Lil Pump ft. Lil Wayne – "Be Like Me"

Marina and the Diamonds – "Orange Trees"

Blake Shelton – "God’s Country"

Shakespears Sister – "All the Queen's Horses"

Tiësto, Jonas Blue & Rita Ora – "Ritual"

Easy Life – "Earth"

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cptnsantiago · 5 years ago

Text

stars (they make me wonder where you are)

summary: Rosa doesn’t remember much - meetings with lawyers, Jake being buried next to Amy, Charles screaming in grief, Holt sobbing whilst holding Kevin. Rosa does remember moving into her two best friends apartment when she is appointed the guardian to their child.

read on ao3 / major character death

“Hey it’s me! Your daddy-o!” Jake’s hold on his phone is shaky, but his happiness evident. “So it’s November 23rd, 4:38 in the morning and your mom has been experiencing contractions for about 3 hours!”

Jake turns his phone slightly to include Amy in the frame, who looks uncomfortable but happy sitting up in their bed. “How are you feeling Ames!?”

“Well she’s definitely on her way.” Amy’s hands are resting low on her stomach, and she cringes with a smile as another contraction begins. “It’s really not that bad, you know since I can- ah!”

Amy breathes deeply for another 15 seconds before she relaxes. “You know because I can still talk during them.”

“Okay babe, whatever you say.”

CUT

“It’s your dad again with birth update!” Jake sighs happily, “It is 0700 and contractions are about 12 minutes apart so still too early to go to the hospital but we’re walking around the apartment trying to move it along.”

“Jake do you really need to this?” Amy whines, “We’ve had no sleep and I’m uncomfortable and in pain.”

The camera quickly faces the floor but doesn’t stop recording, “I thought it might be fun to look back one day, but I can stop if you want me to.”

There’s silence for a moment before Amy agrees to let him do it. “So how are you feeling Ames?”

“I feel like I need you to come out of me much quicker please.” Amy says directly into the camera, as if talking to her daughter.

CUT

Luna Santiago-Peralta is put in the care of Rosa Diaz when she is only 5 weeks old.

It was written in their will. If anything were to happen to them, the care of their daughter would be passed to her godmother.

Karen found her son peacefully asleep with Luna screaming in his arms, but he doesn’t respond. Jake is a heavy sleeper, but with the baby right in his arms he should at least stir. Karen then notices how pale and unmoving her son is.

She rushes to his side, take his cold wrist and checking for any sign for a pulse. Any sign of life. Her arms rush to grab her granddaughter as her chest constricts and her spare hand shakes as she goes to call someone - anyone .

It’s a blur of tears from there and she’s trying to calm down Luna but she is screaming like she’s never heard a baby scream before. It’s not long before Captain Holt appears with Rosa who both falter at the sight of Jake and Karen sobbing holding a screaming baby.

Rosa doesn’t remember much - meetings with lawyers, Jake being buried next to Amy, Charles screaming in grief, Holt sobbing whilst holding Kevin. Rosa does remember moving into her two best friends apartment when she is appointed the guardian to their child.

She feels her chest tighten at the sight of the photos of Jake and Amy scattered around the apartment, the die hard posters and knitted quilts made by Amy. “I don’t know how to do this, Luna. But I will do my best to make sure you know how much they love you.”

She remembers when she gets the call from Karen, telling her the autopsy revealed that Jake had died of broken heart syndrome. A real thing. Rosa had heard of it before - the stress of grief so bad for some that it affects the heart. In short, his death had been preventable, but no one could get Jake to talk to them.

The first time she ventures into Jake and Amy’s room, Luna is almost 3 months old. Rosa had taken to sleeping on the couch, too afraid to change anything about the apartment. Every single person that visits understands.

It’s when Gina suggests they finally move in together when she finally goes inside. “I want her to grow up here, like they intended.”

“I know.” Gina takes her hand, squeezing lightly. “There’s a spare room, so Iggy can have her own room. I know it’s going to be hard… But we can’t keep it all the same. They can’t expect that.”

“They would want us to make it our own.”

Gina has Iggy and Luna out for a walk, and so Rosa spends her time alone to empty out some of Jake and Amy’s things out of her (their) room. She is controlling her emotions better as of late, so clearing out Amy’s clothes and putting them away to be donated doesn’t make her cry.

Halfway through Jake’s clothing, she notices an envelope fall out. His messy handwriting looks shakier than she remembers, and it has two words. For Luna . Rosa’s hands begin shaking as she carefully rips the letter open.

Dear Luna,

I hope no one has to give you this letter. But as you know, your mom died shortly after you were born but she bled out too quickly during surgery and passed away.

Your birthday is simultaneously one of the brightest and darkest days I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been separated from your mom before. Undercover mission, Florida, prison. I hope I can make these stories lighthearted for you one day. Right now, I can’t see anything but darkness.

I don’t sleep, I can’t eat and I can’t even bring myself to talk. And I usually talk a lot. The only thing I can do is keep you alive. You are the only thing keeping my heart beating. I can feel my body giving out. I have heart palpitations and pains every day. I want to stay alive for you I do, my baby, but I don’t know how to survive without my Amy. She was everything to me, such a badass and so loving.

I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world as well as your mom. If you are reading this and it means I’ve died - don’t think this means I love you any less. I love you so fucking much.

I’m sorry. I am really trying to keep myself moving, living. I don’t want you to grow up without your parents. You’ve already lost your mom and you don’t deserve to lose the both of us. I’m trying so hard and I love you so much. I’m so sorry if you can’t understand my pain and I’m sorry for bringing you this pain. I just need you to understand that we love you to the ends of this earth.

Forever your dad,

Jake.

Rosa is furious. Jake knew he was dying. He told no one. The tears are hot on her cheeks and she hears the front door open, the sound of Iggy telling a story to Luna echoing through the apartment.

Gina notices her girlfriend crying, and sends her daughter off to go play before joining Rosa in their bedroom. “Rosa, what’s wrong?” Gina’s wiping the tears off her cheeks, desperately searching her eyes.

“Jake fucking knew he was dying.” Rosa’s voice is strained, and Gina sees her knuckles go white as she grips the letter in her hand.

It doesn’t take Gina long to read the letter, and Rosa’s heart breaks all over again as she reads it and tears roll down her face. “He abandoned her, Gina, the last thing he ever wanted to do. That’s exactly what he did.” Rosa growls stomping to the other side of the room.

“No!” Gina scoffs, “There’s no way he really knew he was dying.”

“ I’m having heart palpitations and pains everyday ! He fucking knew and he told no one!” Rosa wants to scream, the grief and disbelief too overwhelming.

“Try to think how he was feeling! There was no way it was easy to lose his fucking wife right after they had a baby!”

“It’s not fair to Luna! His duty was to be there for his daughter, not to join his wife in the ground!” Rosa is breathing heavily, and she doesn’t think her heart could break any further.

“How would you feel if I died, Rosa?” Gina holds both of her arms still and their eyes connect, “I know I would feel like the world is ending. I would feel like I’m dying! I don’t think he genuinely thought he was about to die. I think he was just trying to get his feelings into words since he felt like he could talk to no one!”

“Luna can never find this.” Rosa shakes her head, wiping the remaining tears off her face.

“It’s for her. She has the right to read it when she’s old enough.”

This time it’s Amy holding the phone. “Hola mi amor, it’s your mama. It’s 9:15 and your dad has fallen asleep on me.” Amy quickly shows Jake snoring on her shoulder on the couch, “He thought we could pass time by rewatching Die Hard for the 1001st time and he passed out.”

Amy yawns, “I can’t really sleep when the contractions are just over 10 minutes apart but I try to close my eyes. I’m glad he can get some sleep since he’ll be driving.”

Jake’s eyes flutter open, and slowly he registers that she’s filming. “Oh update time! What time is it?”

“9:17 now.” Amy tells him, “I’ve already done the basic update.”

“Sorry that I fell asleep.” Jake yawns, stretching.

“I can forgive you but I’m not sure Bruce Willis will…”

“AMY HOW DARE YOU-”

CUT

They only have family over for Luna’s first birthday. Family being her grandparents and their squad. No one really knows how to go about the day. There’s a cake for Luna, and a framed photo of Jake and Amy at their wedding displayed next to it.

Luna is dressed in a dark blue dress with black tights and there’s a dark bow in her unruly curly hair. Rosa had tried to tame it for photos but the whole day was stressing her out so much that she has to stop in order to catch her breath.

Her smile is so bright and unknowing of the events that happened a year earlier. She waddles around the apartment and giggles when Victor makes silly noises.

Rosa has to wipe her eyes of the tears that escape when Luna waddles over yelling, “Mamamamamaa!”

She spots everyone at different points of the day crying. It’s all so fresh but their life has to move on so they can give Luna the best chance she can get. They take photos and sing happy birthday. Luna smashes into the cake and squeals as she throws it everywhere and puts very little into her mouth.

After giving her a bath and having her fall asleep in Gina’s arms, she’s finally in her cot. The adults all give toasts to Jake and Amy, and reminisce on their favourite memories. Gina holds her hand through it all, just as she had been all year.

From the moment Rosa had custody over Luna, she made sure every night she told a story about her parents. Whether it was about their relationship, or a individual story or a whole group story. Sometimes when she had to work late, Gina would take over but her stories always involved herself.

“Roro, can you tell me the dress story again?” Luna asks, crawling into her bed.

“Sure can,” Rosa turns on the bedside nightlight and sits on her bed. “Your mom just became a sergeant and she didn’t want to be judged for looking for a wedding dress, but I caught on, so I forced her to take a break to try on dresses.”

At 5 years old, she has told this story so many times already - it’s her favourite and still Luna takes her bunny and holds it close to her chest as she devotes all her attention to Rosa. “But then when she was wearing the dress, a bad guy was running from the law so your mom leaps over the couch and chases the bad guy down and leaps over all these obstacles - then finally, she tackles him down and takes the sash she’s wearing and restrains him.”

“And then you catch up with her and you’re like ‘damn sarge!’” Luna giggles, her eyes crinkling just like her mothers.

“What is the very important lesson from this?” Rosa asks.

“The lesson is that I should never care what other might think of me, and that women can do everything!” Luna repeats this confidently every time, yawning.

“You are so smart, I love you.” Rosa smooths the curly hair down as she kisses her forehead, “and so does Sergeant Bunny.”

“I love you mommy Roro.”

At 6 years old, Charles introduces Luna to her favourite movie - Zootopia. She has Sergeant Bunny near her at all times, as it was something her parents bought her when they found out about her. The few times they almost lost it are the few times Luna had real meltdowns.

Charles always makes sure that he babysits every few weeks so that Rosa and Gina can have a break. This particular night, Iggy is sleeping over at her friends so it’s just Charles and Luna. After they’ve eaten dinner and Luna is in her pyjamas, Charles puts on the movie. Anything to do with cops, she always pays intense attention to. She dances, her curls bounce and her smile is as wide as Jake’s and her eyes bright like Amy.

His heart physically hurts every time he thinks how much like Luna is like her parents. Her personality and looks. She takes games very seriously, when she’s interested in something her focus becomes so serious her eyebrow crinkle the same way Amy’s did.

“I want to be a police woman like mommy and you and grandpa Holt!” Her goofy smile fades slightly, “And like mama and daddy!”

“Yeah? Why do you want to be a police woman?” Charles asks, trying to keep his emotions intact.

“I wanna save the world and catch the bad guys!” Her smile returns quickly, “Mom says mama and daddy were real good superheros!”

“They were. Have you been told the story of the bet where their love story began?” Charles heart clenches again at how her eyes sparkle.

“YES! They bet who could arrest more baddies and daddy won so he took her on the worst date ever but it was really a good date!” Luna knows just about every story possible about her parents. She sits back down and continues to pay attention to the movie.

Once it’s finished, Charles notices that Luna has gone quiet which is very uncharacteristic of her (just like Jake). “Are you tired, Luna?”

“No.” Luna mumbles, “I wish I could meet my mama and daddy. My friends at school know their moms and dads.”

“Not everyone knows their mommies and daddies.” Charles assures her.

“There are others like me?” Luna’s eyes are desperate to know more.

“Niko doesn’t know his birth mommy. I raised him with Aunt Genny.”

“Really?” Her chin wobbles, “Does it ever make him sad?”

“Sometimes, but when that happens we just remind him how loved he is and that we’re here for him. The same goes for you Lulu.” Charles pulls her in for a hug, “Your mama and daddy loved you so much and are always in your heart.”

“Were they with me when I stole a cookie from the jar when I wasn’t supposed to?” A guilty grin forms on her face.

“Yes and they love you unconditionally. Your mama would tell you not to do it again, but then your daddy would sneak you another cookie.” Charles laughs softly, “For every moment you need them, they will be with you.”

“It is 10:49 and we are officially going to the hospital!” Jake jumps, giddy, “Care to tell us why?”

“Contractions are 7 minutes apart, much stronger and my water broke about 10 minutes ago.” Amy is panting as she walks up behind him, “I can’t wait to walk a few feet without being out of breath.”

“I never thought I would be more fit than Amy freakin’ Santiago!”

“I have a human baby in me I think that makes me more fit in every way possible.” Jake cracks up at this and Amy is poking her tongue out at him and he kisses her nose in response.

“You are completely right. I love you.”

CUT

Luna is 8 and a half when her moms finally get married. Rosa had proposed years earlier, but kept putting it off. She always said she wanted to focus on raising Luna well but always promised Gina that it would happen. They don’t begin planning until she asks them why they aren’t married like all the other parents of her friends.

“It’s complicated…” Rosa begins.

“Is it?” Gina rolls her eyes, “Let’s just do it. Nothing flashy.”

“But it’s your wedding it has to be flashy!” Rosa argues with a pout.

“You guys are all I need to have the perfect wedding.” Gina says with a soft smile, her eyes drifting to one of the pictures of Jake and Amy on their wedding day.

Rosa finally agrees to a simple wedding, and it’s only a month later and she’s braiding Luna’s hair getting her ready to be the flower girl. “Do you have a cool line to say mommy?” She asks as she hops off the stool.

“I don’t know if I can beat ‘your butt is da bomb’, but I can definitely try. I’m not as big of a dork as your parents were!” Rosa giggles, smoothing her own curls as she checks herself in the mirror.

“So not true! I hear you saying cute things to mom all the time!!” She squeals, “You are my everything Gina! What would I do without you my love!”

“You are a little rascal!” Rosa is smiling so wide she might entirely fall apart.

“I learn from the master, GINA LINETTI!” Luna puffs her chest and juts her chin up, pulling off a perfect Amy Santiago power pose.

“Can’t argue with that.”

In the end, Rosa can’t think of anything genius and hilarious to say to express how much she loves Gina. But she is able to show a whole different soft side that her family hasn’t seen before, and she believes that softness was brought out by none other than Luna.

“I can’t wait to spend every day for the rest of my life loving you. Loving you, Iggy and Luna.”

“Why haven’t we ever done a Halloween heist?” Luna asks, dropping her school bag on the floor as she enters their apartment.

“Hey Luna, my day was good. How are you?” Rosa raises her eyebrows at her, amused with the lack of greeting.

“Yeah yeah, I’m good now please answer my question.” She sits next to her mom at the table, determined to get the answer out of her.

“Um, well, it never felt right, without Jake and Amy.” Rosa looks down at her hands, “I had you to focus on, we all had families at this point and it hurt thinking of competing without them bickering.”

“I think we should start them again!” Luna tells her, bouncing in her seat. “I know everything about the past Halloween heists and I can fight to defend mama and dad’s titles! Everyone says I’m just like them so I think we can make it work!!”

“I don’t know, it’s a bit different for all of us.” Rosa tells her sternly, her tone warning her to drop it.

“They wouldn’t want you to stop enjoying that part of your life! It was tradition for 8 years! I think it’s a good way to honour their memory-”

“Drop it Luna!” She rarely raises her voice with Luna, only in moments like this where she is so like her parents and the stubbornness is overwhelming.

“NO! I DON’T WANT TO DROP IT!” Luna screams, her frown so deep and it looks like she’s about to have a meltdown.

“What is going on?” Gina rushes into the room, eyes concerned as she looks at her wife and Luna.

“I want to do a Halloween heist to defend my parents title!” Luna stands up and moves closer to Gina, “I think it’s a great idea to honour them but Rosa keeps saying no!”

“Excuse me?” Rosa falters at hearing her name.

“YOU AREN’T MY MOM! GINA ISN’T MY MOM!” Luna wipes the hot tears falling on her face, “I don’t know my mom and dad. I just want to know them but I can’t so I want to do this heist!”

Both Rosa and Gina are crying at this point, speechless at their daughters pain. No one speaks for what feels like hours, but Luna wipes her cheeks again. “Can I go see grandpa Holt?” She asks, her arms folding her and building up her walls. “I’ve got some hard math homework.”

“Baby, you can’t run away from your feelings.” Gina walks closer but Luna steps back, her arms tightening around herself.

“Please do I have permission to run away to grandpa Holt for a night?” Luna hiccups, avoiding all eye contact. Rosa makes the call and it’s not long before Holt is there, taking her bag with pyjamas and change of clothes for school the next day.

“I will make sure she goes to bed at the appropriate time and is at school on time.” Holt tells them with a nod of understanding.

“I love you Rosa and Gina.” Luna mumbles with a wave.

Luna remains silent whilst she completes her homework with Holt’s help, and throughout dinner where she barely eats her plain rice. They are watching Zootopia on the couch when Holt asks, “May I ask why you and Rosa fought?”

“No.” Luna’s eyebrows knit together, trying to focus on the movie in front of them.

“Talking about it tends to help you sort out your emotions.”

“Tell that to Rosa.” Luna still keeps her eyes on the television for a few moments. “I want to do a Halloween heist.”

“Oh…” Holt can feel her tense as his tone. “It’s been a long time.”

“I get that it makes everyone sad to do it without my mom and dad but… I don’t know them and I want to feel like I do. I know they loved me, I know they are with me always - it’s been drilled into me for forever but I still have no way of connecting to them. It’s not fair that you have so much with them and I get nothing!” Luna lets the tears fall freely again, her breath shaking as she speaks.

“It is completely unfair.” Holt agrees, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, “And I believe it would be a brilliant to begin the heists again.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkle as she turns to him, “I was trying to tell mom that it would be a good way to honour them. And so that I can defend their titles!”

“It’s wonderful, and it will be hard for us but I think I can convince them as the only two time winner.”

“My dad is the only two time winner! Bill had the real belt at midnight so it means he won the heist! And also because that’s when he asked mama to marry him!!” Luna defends fiercely.

“I guess I can concede defeat after 12 years…” Holt chuckles, “You will do well at defending their title.”

Luna gives him a tight hug, “Thank you thank you thank you!”

Come Halloween, Luna is dressed as a mummy and is in the centre of the bullpen holding the statue at midnight. “I WIN! THE SANTIAGO-PERALTA LEGACY LIVES ON! SUCK IT!” She squeals, jumping on the spot.

The entire squad surrounds her and repeats, very happily, “Luna Santiago-Peralta is an amazing human slash genius!”

At that, Luna runs up to Rosa and wraps her in a tight hug. “I love you mom.”

“11:26 and we are settled in our room!” Jake voice is loud and unexpected since they are in a hospital. “Contractions are getting closer and more painful for your mom but she’s still on the no medication headset.”

In the background you can hear Amy groan and the camera suddenly faces up to the ceiling, but you can hear Jake coaching Amy through the contraction, telling her how amazing she’s doing and there’s still a short time until Jake picks up his phone again and begins talking again. “Luna, I’m going to take this moment to tell you how badass your mom is.

This wonderful woman here has just spent the past 9 or so months growing you - sacrificing her body and her sleep so that you can be as strong as you can be. I can’t express how much I admire her! She is the strongest woman I know and if you grow up to be like her I will be the proudest man on earth. Except love ninja turtles and Die Hard like me - then you can be the ultimate human slash genius- OH AMES, I can’t wait to introduce her to Halloween heists. This year we teamed up and your mom pretended to be in labour so we could steal the championship wand - Aunt Rosa ended up kicking our ass though. That’s a story for another time. Anything you want to add Amy?”

“Please don’t let her be obsessed with Die Hard, I will be outnumbered in movie nights!” Amy pouts, “I love you Luna, but please, I’ve heard enough about it to last me a lifetime.”

Amy is smiling at Jake, so he knows she doesn’t mean it. “She’s lying, she loves Die Hard as much as I do now!” His eyes are wide and he’s nodding with a silly grin on his face, “You can love whatever movies you want Luna, we will still love you the same!”

CUT

Luna convinces Iggy to let her watch Die Hard while their moms were out on date night.

“I’m all caught up on my homework for the next two weeks and I’ve finished my reading for the night, Iggy, please!” She whines on the couch, “It’s my dad's favourite movie but mom said I can’t watch it yet but I want to!”

“Ugh fine, don’t be such a big nerd about it.” She rolls her eyes before finding the movie on Netflix, “You’re only 14 so if I get in trouble you’re going down.”

“Yeah yeah whatever now be QUIET.” Luna sits on the edge of her seat as the movie begins, her attention devoted entirely to the screen. Two hours later and Luna is on the floor, right in front of the TV and looking gobsmacked. “That. Was. Awesome.”

“It’s not that great.” Iggy puts her book down to laugh at her little sister, “Don’t make me watch the next one please.”

“THERE’S ANOTHER ONE???”

“There are like 5, Loony.”

“THERE’S 5 MOVIES I HAVE SO MUCH TO CATCH UP ON!” Luna grabs the remote and clicks on the next one.

“I’m going to bed, have fun nerd.”

Gina and Rosa come home around 11 to find Luna fast asleep, snoring peacefully as explosions played in the background. “I’m having flashbacks to childhood.” Gina snorts, “I want to be mad that she didn’t listen but she is Jake’s kid.”

“Die Hard is in her blood.” Rosa laughs as she kneels next to Luna, “Hey baby.”

Luna’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of a hand brushing through her curls, but when realising it’s her mom her eyes widened and she sat up quickly. “Heeeeyyyy moms! How was your night? I don’t know what this violent movie is on my screen right now!” Rosa rolls her eyes at her daughter trying to deflect.

“You are so your dad,” Luna blushes and looks at her hands, “And you shouldn’t have watched it without permission but I understand why you did.”

“I’m sorry.” Luna shrugs, “I’ve got Harry Potter to connect with mama and I just wanted to see what dad was so obsessed with.”

“That’s completely understandable.” Gina wraps her up in a side hug, “He probably would have made you watch it much earlier even though it would have been so inappropriate.”

“I like to think Amy might have prevented it for a few years.” Rosa laughs, “She loved Die Hard too, I never heard her admit it out loud.”

“Do you miss them?” Luna asks quietly.

“Constantly. Especially when you make that face when you love something, it’s such an Amy expression and then you behave so much like Jake when you get focused. You’re a giant nerd like the both of them.” Gina tells her, a fond smile on her face.

“I’m always thinking of how they would love the cases I’m getting, and if I struggle I try to think like they would.” Rosa follows, “They’re always with us, especially in you.”

“Have you started planning your Quinceañera, my dear?” Camila asks at dinner one evening, months before her 15th birthday.

“Um, I don’t actually want to have one.” Luna frowns slightly, “They’re really backwards and all, and I know it’s a tradition but…”

“Oh…” Camila frowns, “I just thought… Do you want to see Amy’s photos?”

“Camila, if she doesn’t want to do it you need to respect that.” Rosa intervenes.

“No I would love to see the photos.” Luna brightens as her abuela take out a binder full of photos from Amy’s quinceañera. In the photos she can see how similar they look, except her own hair was more wild and curly like her dad. The dress she is wearing has a white sparkly bodice with soft pink tulle.

The photo with her abuelo, who had died when she was only 3 years old, is what she can’t take her eyes off. It’s during their father daughter dance, and she is beaming at whatever her father seems to be saying. She then closes her eyes, trying to imagine her quinceañera if her parents were still alive. What her father daughter dance might be like with her dad?

Luna says she doesn’t want to have a quinceañera because its old fashioned and lame - but the real reason is so much more. Rosa has been the greatest mother, as has Gina, and the entirety of her parents old squad - but she wants to have her parents there but they can’t . They’re gone forever, no matter how much people tell her they are always inside her.

“I still have her dress in the attic. Amy always told me she wanted her own daughter to wear it to her own quinceañera.” Camila says fondly.

“Really?” Luna has tears in her eyes, and she grips on her abuela’s hand.

“Yes, and I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you to do it. It’s just an open suggestion.”

“Here we are, it’s 1:06 in the afternoon. Mom is a solid 7cm dilated and very very excited to get you out of her body!” Jake announces with a grin. He turns the camera around so that it shows Amy on her purple birthing ball. “When I say she’s excited I mean she’s desperate - but it’s the same sentiment.”

“Luna is very welcome to hurry up.” Amy groans, “She’s gonna see this video and think I hate her.”

“Noooo you’re just in pain, Ames. I’m sure our child isn’t a cold hearted snake!”

“I will love her even if she’s a bitch. I will have to reprimand her for it though.”

“Don’t be a bitch, dear Luna. Listen to your mother now!” This time when Amy groans again, Jake doesn’t drop his phone but moves to support her with her face still in frame.

There are tears rolling down her face as the peak of the contraction hits her, and her groan grows louder. She sniffles when it’s over, and Jake gets the both of them in frame again. “See your mom is a total badass. I love her so much.”

Amy grins down at her husband and chastely kisses him, “I love you so much.”

CUT

Every birthday they make sure to visit their graves. Since Luna could remember, she has always taken this time to update them on the major events in her life - when she lost her first tooth, her first straight A report card. This time she has her hair and makeup ready to go to her quinceañera but she didn’t get in her dress so that they could make the trip before her big party.

Rosa joins her for the first 10 minutes, but then goes to wait in the car so she can have her moment alone.

Amy Santiago-Peralta Jacob Santiago-Peralta

Sept. 17 1983 - Nov. 23 2022 June. 14 1981 - Jan. 1 2023

Daughter. Wife. Mother. Son. Husband. Father. Die Hard fanatic.

Luna sits on the grass and takes a deep breath. “Hi.

Sooo, I’m in high school now! So far so good, people aren’t so awful as movies depict it. So far I’m on track for having straight As this semester. Mo-Rosa says you guys would be so proud of that - that I’ve become a giant nerd like you two.

My best friend, her name is Lauren, really likes Die Hard like we do - obsessed with any old action movie really. I always make sure I tell her everything wrong with the way the women are treated and she calls me a nerd but in the way Gina does. So it sounds kind of mean but she has so much heart.

Um, I saw photos of you with bangs mom, so I got bangs. Oof it was a bad idea - but that’s because my hair is too curly I think. I also had my first kiss this year. It was weird, his name was Luke and he was okay but said he wasn’t that interested in me. I’m not too bothered by it but I feel like it’s something you tell your parents. I didn’t tell Rosa or Gina - I felt too uncomfortable.

Um, I miss you. Or the idea of you, since I don’t have any real memory of you. But it sucks that you aren’t here for my quinceañera - but I’m doing it for you mom, I got your dress altered to fit me and it looks great.

R-Rosa said she’s going to do the father daughter dance - because fuck gender roles right? Sorry, Rosa tells me not to swear and I definitely shouldn’t right in front of you. I just want you here.

I need to save my makeup, so I guess that’s it from me for now. But I hope you’re watching tonight, because it would make me really happy to know you’re there.”

Luna doesn’t say anything in the ride to the venue, only a vague nod if when her mom asks if she had a nice chat with them. Before either of them leaves the car, Rosa turns to her and takes her hand. “I’m so proud of you, Luna.” There are tears on her cheeks, and she doesn’t try to hide them. “I love you.”

“I love you mom.” Luna’s chin quivers intensely, but she doesn’t let herself cry - not yet.

She lasts a long without crying - she gets through hugs from her entire family and speeches. But then they announce it’s time for her dance with Rosa, and hear breath becomes shorter. When her mom wraps her arms around her, she can feel herself relax. They don’t have a proper dance ready, they just begin to sway.

We know full well there's just time

So is it wrong to dance this line?

If your heart was full of love

Could you give it up?

It doesn’t take long before her shoulders are quaking and Rosa’s grip tighten, Luna can hear her sniffling as well as the piano takes over.

'Cause what about, what about angels

They will come, they will go and make us special

Don't give me up

She can hear Rosa audibly crying as much as she is now, and not a moment later she feels her other moms hands wrapping around them. Then it’s uncle Charles, uncle Terry and grandpa Holt. Luna sways with them all, and she’s pretty sure everyone in the room is likely crying but in this moment she feels her parents more than ever.

She manages to look up at Rosa and whisper shakily, “They’re here.”

It's not about, not about angels

Angels

“It’s 5:30 in the evening and you have been here in the world for about an hour and a half now. Born at 4:06 to be exact and you weigh in at around 6 pounds and 19 inches long. Your mom is doing great, in pain but she’s such a champion. I will never stop telling you how powerful she is and if you ever disobey her I won’t stop her showing her wrath. Also because I’m terrified of it.”

Jake moves so that Amy and Luna appear in the frame with him, “Look at us - a happy little family!”

Amy’s face quickly scrunches up as she begins to cry. “We have a baby Jake!”

“What did you think you were growing in you for 9 months, Ames?” Jake laughs, joining her on the bed.

“Various fruits and vegetables of course!” She giggles, “I’m just so happy, babe.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to watch her grow up with you.”

Jake kisses her softly, stroking Luna’s head lightly before they both look at the camera like they’re taking a family photo.

END

Luna is 17 years old when she finds the video her dad made of the day she was born. She had been working on an entrance essay for college when she got bored and went looking at photos on her moms laptop. She had scrolled until until she saw a folder she had never seen before.

11/23/22

She opens it and sees photos she seen before - photos of her moments after she was born, screaming on her mother’s chest as her mother glows. Photos of her with Jake and photos with her with Amy - and then the both of them beaming as one of them holds her.

What she hasn’t seen before is the the 4 minute and 13 second video. Her heart pounds as her father’s goofy smile appears on screen.

Luna has been to therapy - parents dying hours and months after you are born can have a lasting affect - and she has worked through most of her emotions about not knowing them. She still has her moments of missing them intensely, and that usually falls on holidays or her birthday.

So she doesn’t really expect the flood of tears that break once she hears the line ‘ I will love her even if she’s a bitch. ’ She’s really laughing at her parents being weird but the tears don’t stop falling and her heart truly aches.

Of course she has seen an abundance of videos and photos of her parents of through their partnership, friendship and then relationship before. There was something completely groundbreaking seeing them talk about her and them moving with her there even if for a short time.

The video has been over for a few minutes, paused on them both looking at her with love written in their features. She still can’t stop her tears and it’s then that her mom shows up.

“Alright which little son of a bitch am I fighting?” She growls immediately, protective mode in full force. When she joins Luna on the couch and sees what she has open, she softens. “Talk to me, Luna.”

“I don’t know what to say that I haven’t said before.” Luna hiccups, shaking her head. “I have this moment with them, it’s all I have. I wish I had… a chance to… to have one conversation with them now. I want to hear them say they love me and that they’re proud. Everyone tells me they are but I want to hear it from them.

And you and Gina have been such great moms to me and I feel so bad for wanting them so badly. But I also know I have the right to feel like this and it all just hurts.”

“We would never feel like you don’t appreciate us because you want your parents. We want them back. But that doesn’t change my love for you either.” Rosa grips her hands tightly, “Your parents and you have changed my life like I never expected.”

The last thing Luna remembers is falling asleep with Rosa as she told her the best stories of her parents once again. Now she’s in what seems to be a park, surrounded by bright green trees and a lake in the corner. The sun is shining on the lake and she’s in such a deep trance that she doesn’t hear her name being called until there’s a hand on her shoulder and she jumps. Turning around, she stumbles a few steps back at the sight of her mother and her father close by - soft smiles on both their faces.

“Hi Luna.” Amy’s eyes seem to be filling with tears and her voice is cracking with emotion.

“Mom? Dad?” Luna has to take a few deep breaths as she tries to process what was seeing in front of her. “Is this some freaky Harry Potter resurrection stone dream shit?” She finally manages to get out, tears are leaking out of her parents eyes as they laugh.

“Probably. Ames, this is so cool right? It’s our baby.” Jake gestures at Luna, awe shining off him brighter than the sun.

A sob escapes as she jumps to embrace them and she doesn’t care if she’s dreaming because they feel so real in the moment. “I can’t believe this.”

Their arms are tightly wrapped around her and they spend what feels like eternity just holding each other and crying. “I’m so sorry, mi amor.” Amy pulls back and holds her at arms length to look into her eyes.

“Don’t be sorry! This wasn’t in your control.” Luna shakes her head, “I know you didn’t want to leave me.”

“It doesn’t change how bad we feel that you only got to know us through others.” Jake adds, “We love you so much, and we’ve always been with you.”

“I know that.” Luna nods fiercely, tears continuing to fall like a waterfall.

“We are so proud of the young woman you have become.” Amy tells her.

“Everyone tells me how much I’m like the both of you.” Luna beams, “They all did their part to tell me about you.”

“Did Charles cover the love story? I’d say he’s the best at telling it besides myself.” Jake quips, and she feels so enlightened. It’s everything she wants in a dream.

“He has made sure I know and that my expectations are at an extremely unrealistic level.” She replies, like they’ve joked around her whole life.

“Thank them for us.” Amy requests softly, “Everyone who has helped you - but especially Rosa. It was so much to ask but she raised you with no questions asked and we couldn’t be more thankful for that.”

“She’s been great to me.” Luna agrees, “I might not have had you but I was always loved.”

“A few more things, while we still have time. One; good job on defending us in the Halloween heist. Two; you rocked those bangs girl I don’t care what you say. Three; I’m so proud that you love Die Hard.” Jake is counting on his fingers, and he’s thinking of a fourth when Amy interrupts.

“Also you’ve been so good in school, and you’re so kind to your peers. Luna, we can’t possibly express how proud we are.”

Luna once again buries herself into a hug with the both of them, and they’re all mumbling how much they love each other. It’s warm and she’s never felt a happiness this intense.

The sun grows brighter and brighter until she opens her eyes and she’s back in her home, her head against Rosa’s legs and tears staining her cheeks. They’re gone again but she can still feel their arms and their love surrounding her.

They’re gone again, but she’s okay.

#peraltiago #peraltiago fic #writing #my fics #ANGSTTTTTT

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thebookishgoddess · 6 years ago

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ELLA DISCUSSES: AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT - AN INTERVIEW WITH ELIZABETH TAMMI

Hello everyone! Today, I’m going to talk about a new author that I’m sure you’ll all love simply based off the amazing synopsis she has for her book. Her name’s Elizabeth Tammi, author of Outrun The Wind, a mythology-inspired sapphic novel based off the Greek female warrior, Atalanta, to be released on November 27, 2018! If that doesn’t spark up your interest yet, I don’t know what does!

I have had the utmost pleasure of interviewing her about her upcoming novel, her journey into writing it and a fair little advice for any aspiring authors out there. But first, we all have to wonder--who exactly is Elizabeth Tammi?

Elizabeth Tammi was born in California and grew up in Florida, but is currently double-majoring in Creative Writing and Journalism as an undergraduate at Mercer University in Georgia. When she’s not writing, you can probably find Elizabeth at rehearsal for one of her vocal ensembles, or at work for her university’s newspaper and literary magazine. Her other interests include traveling, caffeinated beverages, and mythology. Outrun the Wind is her debut novel. (Taken from Goodreads)

Honestly, I am so impressed because the fact that she can handle university and writing an entire novel tells us so much about her dedication as both a student and writer. And it definitely shows how she definitely must have put all her heart into writing that she got a book deal not long after.

But enough of my rambling and awe. Read on to see my interview with the amazing Elizabeth Tammi!

What inspired you to write Outrun The Wind?

Spite, honestly! I was simultaneously captivated and frustrated by Atalanta's original mythology, and wanted to tell my own interpretation! Plus, I had lots of other interests about Greek mythology that I wanted to explore via long-form fiction, like the huntresses of Artemis, relationships between the gods, and the oracles at Delphi.

What makes Outrun The Wind unique from every other mythology-inspired novel?

I think-- or hope, at least-- that Outrun the Wind stands out because of its exploration of a lesser-known myth and deals heavily with themes like female strength, sexuality, and is told from the perspective of two teenage girls. It's a younger and female twist on a mythology that isn't very kind to women, so I hope readers enjoy that point of view.

Who is your favorite non-main character from your book and why?

Probably Nikoleta, a demigoddess daughter of Ares who also serves Artemis as one of her huntresses. Nikoleta has a super deep personal connection to me, because the very first draft of a book I ever finished was actually her story of growing up in ancient Sparta with quite a harrowing destiny; while that first manuscript was pretty terrible, I still have hopes of returning to it someday, and I was so glad that she got to make an appearance in Outrun the Wind-- it feels very fitting, since she's been with me from the start of my writing journey.

Who or what inspired you to start writing?

My parents really raised me as an avid reader, so I don't remember a time in my life when I didn't love books. As early as about seven years old, I knew I wanted to write my own. Now, I didn't actually start writing seriously until I was about 16. Prior to that was just some random snippets, and of course, some fanfiction haha (which was actually, looking back, a great way to learn how to structure scenes, dialogue, descriptions, etc. in an environment I felt comfortable in)! Anyway, I think being surrounded by so many fantastic YA stories growing up just really pushed me to try writing my own. Obviously, Rick Riordan was probably my biggest 'hero', but other authors like Leigh Bardugo, Kiersten White, and Maggie Stiefvater also definitely inspired me!

Tell us what the journey was like in writing Outrun The Wind, from the start of the idea up to the point of having it published.

This whole journey with Outrun the Wind actually only spans about 2.5 years from first getting the idea to the book being published on November 27, 2018-- which felt like forever, but ask any other author, and they'll tell you this was ridiculously fast haha. I got the initial idea when I was 18, the summer before I left for college, since I had been reading up on more Greek mythology and stumbled across Atalanta. She was a character I knew a bit about, but after reading her whole story, I was left feeling instilled with some sort of purpose/passion to tell her story as I imagined it. I drafted the first terrible version during the first semester of freshman year, worked with my critique partners, and started sending it off to various publishers and agents during the end of my freshman year.

Ultimately, Flux offered me a book deal last fall, during my sophomore year. From then, I went through three rounds of edits with my fabulous editor to make sure the book was ready for publication, and the very final version was sent off this past March. Then ARCs went out in May, and are being read/reviewed as we speak, in preparation for its official release date of November 27th-- nearing the end of my fall semester of junior year! Whew. Looking back, I know this was actually really fast from start-to-finish, partially because I'm a somewhat quick writer, and partially because I'm not with a Big Five publishing house. But when I was in the thick of it, it felt like there was so much waiting involved. That's just the publishing industry though!

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

Start sooner! I know 16 isn't old by any means, but it frustrates me that I knew I wanted to be an author by the time I was seven...but it took me almost a decade to start pursuing it seriously! I keep thinking what more I could have accomplished already if I'd started when I said I wanted to, haha. But that's okay, I'm glad to be doing it now. The moral is, if anyone reading this wants to be an author, there's no better day to start than today!

Writing a book is no easy feat. What's the one advice you wish you had upon writing your novel that you could give to aspiring writers wanting to get their work out there?

You're so right-- there's really nothing easy about writing a book, but it's a challenge that I get joy out of. Anyway, I do wish someone had told me when I first started writing my own novels that comparison is so, so toxic, frustrating, and pointless. In this industry specifically, every author has their own struggles and had their own path to publication, so it's impossible to try and compare successes. Every single writer feels insecure to a degree and that's not going to go away once you get a book deal. It's important to be disciplined and consistent, but also remember that this isn't a race, and you should never rush into something that feels sketchy or uncomfortable. If you're querying, do extensive research on where you're sending your work out to!

It has been such a honor interviewing this incredible author! Let’s get a glimpse of her amazing debut novel, and what Outrun The Wind is really about:

The Huntresses of Artemis must obey two rules: never disobey the goddess, and never fall in love. After being rescued from a harrowing life as an Oracle of Delphi, Kahina is glad to be a part of the Hunt; living among a group of female warriors gives her a chance to reclaim her strength, even while her prophetic powers linger. But when a routine mission goes awry, Kahina breaks the first rule in order to save the legendary huntress Atalanta. To earn back Artemis’s favor, Kahina must complete a dangerous task in the kingdom of Arkadia— where the king’s daughter is revealed to be none other than Atalanta. Still reeling from her disastrous quest and her father’s insistence on marriage, Atalanta isn’t sure what to make of Kahina. As her connection to Atalanta deepens, Kahina finds herself in danger of breaking Artemis’ second rule. She helps Atalanta devise a dangerous game to avoid marriage, and word spreads throughout Greece, attracting suitors willing to tempt fate to go up against Atalanta in a race for her hand. But when the men responsible for both the girls’ dark pasts arrive, the game turns deadly.

Again, you guys, Outrun The Wind comes out on November 27, 2018! Copies are available over at NetGalley to request for if you can’t wait to read it. I myself am quite excited to read this book because you all know I have such a soft heart for anything mythology-related! Make sure to click that Want To Read on Goodreads! ;)

You can follow Elizabeth Tammi on many of her social media platforms such as Tumblr at (annabethisterrified), Twitter at (@ElizabethTammi), Instagram at (elizabeth_tammi), and at elizabethtammi.com!

#outrun the wind #elizabeth tammi #booklr #author spotlight #discussion

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