#Dennie's Funeral Home

[kinardscake]

Thinking about Tommy showing up for the coffee date. He could have said no and nobody would have blamed him, but Buck had something to say and Tommy met him and listened and look how well it turned out :)

Thinking about Tommy showing up at Chimney-less bachelor party even though he was on standby, one phone call/message away from being called into work for who knows how long.

Thinking about Tommy showing up at the hospital straight from a fire, still in his turnouts and with soot all over his face, trying to make it to Chimney’s wedding because he was Buck’s date.

Thinking about Tommy showing up at the hospital again, this time for Buck, straight from work. Again. And he was there just in time to see the doctors pop Buck’s shoulder back into place, so he probably came not that long after Buck had arrived at the hospital himself.

Thinking about Tommy driving Buck home and staying with him, taking care of him despite being exhausted after his shift.

Thinking about Tommy showing up at the hospital, this time to wait for the news about Denny with Buck, because Denny is a part of Buck’s extended 118 family, and Tommy cares about Buck so he cares about his family as well.

Given Tommy’s track record, chances are he was there when Bobby was at the hospital too.

Thinking about Tommy dressing up and driving his boyfriend to a mummy funeral/eulogy reading and then driving him back home.

PS. thinking about Tommy showing up with an air tanker when Eddie was trapped inside a burning house with a little boy and also thinking about Tommy stealing a helicopter and flying out into the ocean during a hurricane to save Bobby and Athena - all because Chimney called and asked for a favor.

[spxdyr]

okay look. ill never say 9-1-1 has perfect writing. hell, i might not even say they have particularly good writing. but the one thing the show is, is intentional.

i saw a post talking about all the plot holes in season 8 so far, and to be honest none of them were really holes.

1. where did the bees go? this feels like a silly question mostly because the show literally explained that they were moving with the wind or smth. like the plane emergency was only barely triggered by the bees.

2. what happened to the madney/henren conflict over mara? i saw what they were seeing but hen & chim are grown ass adults who realized the goal was to get mara home. the conflict never needed to happen because madney is having a second baby.

3. why is eddies years & years of repression solved with one conversation? it wasnt. he's still repressed the only thing that changed about eddie in 8x06 was him trying to stop punishing himself for the mistake he made with chris. nothing else has changed. idk what they were seeing with that one.

4. why has denny dying had no longlasting impact on henren? two things with that one. one, this was a buck & eddie focused episode. we got no furthering for storyline for anyone else, that's just how network tv works. two, when has 9-1-1 really ever given us longlasting impact. the closest we got was buck's leg crushing (which technically, at this point, has seen no further repercussions-not even a limp) and the shooting, which was more the emotional repercussions than any physical. lets not jump to conclusions based on an episode that didn't focus on henren at all.

5. and the most important, the bucktommy breakup. if i have to keep beating this goddamned horse about this fuckin breakup im gonna lose it. the breakup was written in the script from the beginning. from the: leaving buck on the side of the road, the dismissiveness around buck and his lil curse. and its not even the dismissiveness, because eddie was also in disbelief about the curse. its about the "your five minutes of screen time is up evan" and the comments about having a team that acts as family when tommy never had that. it was even the distance between at the funeral scene. because if we look back at the other funeral in season 7, eddie was right there next to buck because it wasn't just a buck moment. buck needs that support.

that's it for now

[livelaughlou]

ohhh i love lou's microexpressions and I've also been thinking about 806 being filmed before 805! Tell me your thoughts about it, please!!!

Ooooh! Okay, I want to preface this by saying that this is all just my own supposition and thoughts on this and my agreement on theories that prescribe to the idea that the hurdle in 8x06 is going to do with Tommy maybe not having people in his life who, for example, would wait for him for hours in a hospital waiting room.

Sorry this took so long to answer, I wanted to go back and watch the specific scenes so I could articulate my thoughts on this accurately.

So there's a few times actually, that when Buck mentions Billy Boils being alone, Tommy gets this sort of look on his face. Not sad, but just...like he relates to it, I think. The first time he does this is right after Buck tells him that Billy was hogtied by his buddies and turned into the sheriff. This could be that he knows what it's like to be betrayed, but I actually think it's more that that betrayal showed that Billy Boils was alone at a hard time.

The funeral scene is another one. When Buck talks about Billy being alone, Tommy's face shifts just a little, again like he was relating to it. But then Buck says that he's in Billy's posse now, and Tommy smiles so sweetly at him. Sure, this could be because he loves Buck's big heart, but also maybe because he likes the idea that Buck would choose to do that just because he could. Found family, you know?

And then the most obvious part is the hospital waiting room scene when Tommy says that it's so beautiful when you have people there if things go wrong. The expression on his face is almost one of amazement, like he can't believe that that exists.

So, if what I saw is right (and of course I can't find the post now) that they filmed some of 8x06 before scenes for 8x05, I think it could be totally possible that LFJ is sort of...not telegraphing it, it's more subtle than that, but just working in the idea that Tommy may frequently "have a guy" when he needs one, but doesn't necessarily have any close friends or family when things really get rough. His amazement that all of the 118 was there for Denny really drives that home for me. I love the idea that the 118 would choose to show up for Tommy too. He's Buck's, right? So he'd be the 118's too.

This might all just be my wishful thinking and being a little fanciful about my boy Tommy Kinard, but it's interesting to think about.

[blorbodiaz]

i have a vision…

it’s the season 8 finale, buck just broke up with tmmy and confessed his love to eddie and they run off to san francisco for the weekend. ravi is dating a guy from dispatch. hen karen and denny are reunited with mara. madney find out they’re pregnant again. christopher is home and healing. gerard died and nobody shows up to his funeral apart from councilwoman ortiz. bathena are getting freaky again. this is all happening in a 5 minute montage style to this specific cover

we ended season 1 with florence, now we’re gonna end season 8 with her (mostly)

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 25 (Unexpected Death Cull but then a Baby, Finally!)

The town of Henford was rocked by a seniors’ river cruise disaster which killed Spencer’s grandparents Dennis and Vivian Lewis-Kim, as well as Ian and Derek Moody-McMillan, who were old friends of the Nesbitts and grandfathers to Nicola, Hazel’s bestie-turned-girlfriend.

The disaster brought Everett and Spencer home to visit her family. The Nesbitts sent condolences, grateful to have been spared greater grief as the town’s fledgling riverboat tourism industry took a nosedive. Spencer met her new niece and infant Greyson got to know his aunts on the Pancakes and Kim-Lewis sides of his family.

The visit made them miss home, and they began to talk about coming home to Henford for good. For now, however, life called them back to Oasis Springs after the funerals.

Daisy was still a PlantSim, which was concerning as the effects of the forbidden fruit had worn off much slower than she expected, and River’s wedding was just around the corner. Despite this, Daisy stayed close to Heather until delivery.

One evening, Heather tried to show her mother how to use accounting software for her floral business, but it wasn't going well and Heather was starting to get bored. She nonchalantly checked her phone. "You wrote a whole cookbook, Mom. You taught me how to do online research, but you can't figure out a few numbers?"

Daisy frowned. "I always let the telescope do my number-crunching for me. I really just loved gardening." She clicked something, and the program disappeared. "Oh, what now?"

"Let me." Heather leaned over her mother's shoulder. "You deleted it? How did you do that?"

Daisy shrugged in frustration. "I really don't know."

Heather opened her Recycle Bin to retrieve the deleted file when she noticed a strange folder. "VetConnect? Is this a clone? What?"

"What does that mean?"

"I...I think someone might have cloned my app files and given them to Petcare Inc."

"Who would do such a thing?"

"Other than you, no one's used my computer since...since Malcolm! I used to let him log in to send work emails. Oh my god! I could kill him!"

Daisy frowned. "Don't say that. Can you sue?"

"Against the Landgraabs? I don't even know if I could prove it was him," she said. "But I think I can fight fire with fire. My vet tech had the idea, and it took years to make the first one, but I'm going to have to work on a new app."

After a family dinner in Henford, Heather finally went into labour. Daisy went with her to the hospital, where her doctor was the on-call intern, Jamar Scott, her childhood neighbour.

(And the eldest son of Henford townies Simon and Sara Scott.)

"How's life in Brindleton Bay?"

"It's really great! I love being by the sea and I really feel like the clinic was my calling."

"I know what you mean. What you do for animals is what I love to do for sims."

"And how's Malia's freelance career?"

"She loves the flexibility, and I can't say I blame her. We're talking about starting a family of our own once my residency's done and I can work better hours."

Just before four in the morning, an exhausted Heather gave birth to a healthy baby boy she named Ash Neal Nesbitt. She debated the last name for months, but Malcolm hadn’t checked on her except when he needed a paternity test. And he stole her mobile app's code!

Since then he’d been no better than a ghost. If he wanted to miss out on his son's life, Heather was fine with it. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: To prevent them from randomly marrying other sims I made Dennis Kim and Vivian Lewis fall in love and marry years after their kids, Eric and Alice, married and started a family (they had three girls - Olivia, Spencer, and Lydia Kim-Lewis).

NOTE 2: I made OG grocer Kim Goldbloom the adopted daughter of Ian Moody and Derek McMillan because I wanted to make all the Henford NPCs playable at the start of the game. (I also paired up Michael Bell and Cecilia Kang despite their canon bad first date, married off Agnes and Agatha and moved them in with the Pancakes after making Agatha the mother of Bob, and put Lavina and Rahul in a home in the Bramblewood. She married Paolo Rocca and had two more kids, Rahul married Rashidah Watson after graduation and they moved to Brindleton Bay to start a family.

[diaz-buckeddie]

I will sell my soul for a scene at the end of the episode where Buck is released from the hospital and both Eddie and Athena are fighting over who gets to take Buck home, cause he is not supposed to stay alone during his recovery, while Bobby looks at Buck, who is literally crying happy tears cause he has never felt so cared for before in his life

Obviously he chooses to go to the Diaz household because Chris is there and they get to watch a million documentaries and movies together, while the rest of the firefam is constantly visiting them because they need to see Buck is alive with their own eyes. Eddie will fret over the littlest thing, will get him too many pillows and won’t let Chris cuddle next to him just in case he hurts him (but of course they end up cuddling anyway because “the pain is worth is Eds”. Bobby will bring Buck his favourite food and call Eddie over a million times, to the point where he is driving him insane, just to make sure Buck is taking his medicine, and Athena will jump in to see if Buck is resting properly, while Hen and Karen come over almost every day because “Denny wanted to play his new game with Chris” but really they just want Buck to know he is a part of their family too; and Chim and Maddie will bring Jee over every day so that she can spend time with her Uncle Buck, and after Chim leaves Maddie stays to look after her little brother.  Some days Albert will come over too, and argue with Buck over who is the best Uncle, but he will let Buck win the argument everytime because he’ll gladly let Buck be the favourite if that means that he gets to live. May will leave earlier from college with a lame excuse and Athene will pretend she is upset about it, but secretly she’d rather have her be absent because she wants to “ask him for help with her homework” than to have her be absent because she has to attend his funeral.

I just want the 118 to show Buck how important he is and shower him with the love he deserves.

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Thirteen

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Very strong language, NSFW themes (kinda smutty?), depictions of war, World on Fire spoilers

Word Count: 4.1K

Notes: The banner is absolute potato quality, soz. We’re gonna say hello to the Vaughns, but we’re with Tom for the majority of this chapter. If you’ve seen the series, you know what’s happening. Buckle in, my dudes.

Late May, 1940

“Up you get, Dadda.”

A hand tucked under each of Fergal’s arms and hoisted him from the pew. He looked blindly at the faces around him. Each solemn and unrecognisable through his grief. The only faces he knew where those of his daughters. Cora and Bess holding him upright, Dot rubbing his back as they walked him out of the church. Beautiful spectres in their mourning veils, the girls moved through the congregation, shook hands with the priest and entered the piercing sun of the June day.

A few of their friends and neighbours were gathered at the church steps. There was Dennis Warley, Mrs Mason and her children, Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty. Queenie Warren, Roberta, Hattie and Jude. Leading the sea of black was Lois, her bump growing by the day, and Douglas.

“Could you hold this?” Bess whispered to Lois, who nodded and took the order of service from her hands. At the bottom of the page, after the service readings and the parish notices, was a small note. Mass dedicated to the memory of Albert Michael Vaughn. Together, the group formed a procession that made its slow journey from the church to the Vaughn’s home. Occasionally, Fergal wobbled on his feet as a new wave of grief wracked him, and the procession paused as his daughters steadied him. A few people meandered into their own homes after kissing the girls and shaking Fergal’s hand. Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty brought round a selection of sandwiches for the mourners, and Queenie set about making tea. Douglas led Fergal to his armchair and set him down, while Lois cradled a hysterical Dot. Cora made her way to them, and along with Lois, held her shaking little sister.

“Bess, I’m off,” Queenie’s voice was quiet as she handed Bess a cup of tea. She tried to keep her voice measured as she spoke again. “He really was the best of them.” Bess removed her veil and nodded. Queenie kissed her on the cheek and departed. Roberta, Hattie and Jude were next to say their goodbyes, with promises to visit Bess in Manchester next weekend. Soon, the house was occupied by just the Vaughns and the Bennetts. Cora saw Dot to bed, then set about scrubbing the china more vigorously than Bess had ever seen, Lois helped her put away the remnants of the dreadful day. Douglas spent a silent hour with Fergal by the unlit hearth, holding his hand and sharing a glass of whisky. Outside on the front step, Bess sat alone, gazing at Tom’s photograph. When the front door opened, she hastily tucked it into the belt of her dress. Someone settled on the step beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Bess inhaled the familiar smell of laundry detergent and relaxed into the arms she had become so used to. She and Douglas sat there a while, neither speaking for there was nothing to say. Eventually, Bess whispered into the descending night.

“I just want to hold him.” With Albie’s body buried somewhere in France, the Vaughns had been unable to hold a funeral. Unable to see their beloved Albie one last time. The string had been cut, and Bess’ kindred spirit was no more. Beneath Douglas’ arms, she began to shake. “I feel untethered,” she choked out. “Like I’m going to float away.” For what felt like hours, Bess cried and cried into Douglas’ shoulder. He said nothing, merely stroked her hair and let her wail. When her sobs eased into hiccupping breaths, he took her face in his hands.

“You’ll make it through, I promise.” He kissed the top of her head, opened the front door and called for his daughter.

“Douglas,” Bess’ voice cracked with the effort of using it. “I have some of Albie’s old clothes. I wondered if you might take them for Jan, next time you visit the Chase’s?” The older man nodded with a sad smile.

“I’ll be round in the morning.”

Lois clung to her father’s arm as they crossed the road, and when they had shut the door to their own home, Bess retrieved the photograph from her belt. It was real. Albie was the first of them to die. How many more would there be now? It had started. She kissed Tom’s face and prayed. Keep him safe, keep him safe, keep him safe.

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“God help the Jerries if that’s the look you give ‘em.” Norman laughed as he watched Tom read over his post. “I wouldn’t cross you in a month of Sundays.”

“I have a date with a solider from the infirmary. He’s called James. I think we’re going to the Palais. How are you managing with only men aboard ship?”

Tom’s bottom lip quirked with annoyance. “How long until the auxiliaries leave?”

“About an hour, I reckon.”

Tom nodded with resolve. That evening, the HMS Keith was to join Operation Dynamo in the attempt evacuate Dunkirk. In dock reloading with fuel and supplies for the men they to rescue, most sailors aboard were taking a few hours of shore leave before entering the fray. The air had been tense all morning. The resulting lack of crew meant that when Tom entered the mess hall, he found it empty. He took Bess’ photograph from its permanent residence in his pocket and placed it on the table with his paper and pen. This letter better be a good one.

But when he tried to write, nothing came. He stared at the blank paper, unable to escape the image of Bess and this James man dancing at the Palais. Tom smirked as an idea popped into his head. Lighting a cigarette, he picked up the pen and with a laugh, began to write.

Bess,

I know what you’re trying to do. Telling me all about your little date in the hopes it will make me jealous. Would it make you smile, love, if I told you it was working?

Tell me more about James, love. Is he tall? Is he handsome? Does he know you like I do? Does he know that you hate wearing pink because it clashes with your hair? That you sneak fudge from the picture house into your pocket? That you collected feathers and eggshells when you were small, or that you write secret letters to a criminal like me?

Can he read you like I can? Does he know that when you don’t wear make up, or curl your hair, you feel defiant? Or that when you’re angry, your eyebrows straighten? That you only smoke as a means to avoid speaking? That when your eyes darken and those perfect lips of yours part, when you blush and it spreads right across your nose, it means you desperately want fucking?

Can he satisfy you like I can, Bess? What’s it like when he holds you? Are his fingers long? Have they been inside you yet? I know I could do it, Bess, if you’d let me. I heard the way your breath hitched every time I touched you. I watched your chest heave every time I got close. I see the way you watch me, the way you’ve always watched me.

God, what I’d give. You’re all I think about. At night, when the other men are sleeping, or else touching their cocks and pretending no-one’s noticed, it’s you I see when I close my eyes. I replay the day I watched you changing behind the screen each night. The outline of your body. Damn your family for coming home. What would have happened, do you think? After I had pinned your body beneath mine? If I try, I can hear you moaning my name. I can feel your cunt against me. If your family hadn’t come home I’d have ravished you, Bess. I’d have fucked you with my mouth, my fingers, my cock. Watched you take me. Watched unflappable Bess Vaughn come undone by my body. Made love to you until your mind could think of nothing but me. Can this James boy do that for you? Can he satisfy you like I could?

I can’t take it anymore. I can’t kiss another woman and pretend it’s you, calling them by your name. I don’t want to imagine anymore what those nimble fingers of your can do. I’m tired of using my hand and pretending it’s your mouth around me. I’m mad with wanting you, love. I’ll kill any man that gets in my way to you. You’re mine, Bess. You tell James that.

Yours, hungrily,

Tom.

He stopped writing and reread the letter. His cigarette had dwindled to a stub and when he reached the end of the letter, Tom barked a laugh. At least that was out of his system. Perhaps, one day, he would give it to her. He folded the page, placed it in an envelope and wrote, simply, Bess on the front before tucking it into his pocket. When Tom took out the second page of paper, he hung his head and thought. Really thought, before placing the pen upon the page.

Dear Bess,

Thank you for the letter. Please, if it upsets you, don’t write anymore. Your letters are the best thing that happens to me at sea, but I couldn’t bear being the cause of more pain.

I’m sure you’ll have all heard back home, but we’re starting the evacuation tonight. I won’t lie to you Bess, I’m terrified. Thousands all herded onto one beach with us to rescue them. Feel like sitting ducks. We’re going into something big, Bess, and I’m scared I won’t come back.

If I don’t, know that I think of you every second of every day. And if this James fella doesn’t treat you well then I’ll haunt him until his dying day. I hope he makes you happy, Bess.

If I do come back, I’ll spend the rest of my days regretting what I did to you but know this, I will make it right. I adore you.

Think of me, as I’m forever thinking of you,

Yours, always,

Tom.

Tom rubbed the pen between his fingers. That was it. That was all. Writing Bess’ name and address on the envelope, he hurried from the mess hall back to the cabin he shared with Norman.

“Gonna get a last look at land,” he said as he opened the door and placed the two letters he had written on his bunk, one addressed and one not. “You coming?”

“Last look? You’re optimistic.” Norman lay on his side and watched Tom don his cap. “You’re alright, gonna stay here and get some rest before it all.”

“Right you are.” With that, Tom made his way to the __ deck and watched shadows of cloud drift across the French docks. Two minutes after he departed, a ratings officer knocked on the cabin door. Norman answered.

“Anything for the post before we leave?”

“Just these,” Norman grabbed a letter of his own, addressed to his parents, and the two from Tom’s bunk. “Hang on, he hasn’t addressed this one.” Hastily, he copied Bess’ address from one envelope to the other and handed them to the man at the door, who looked at the name.

“Two letters to one girl?” He whistled lowly. “She must be a special one.”

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Despite the calm water and pastel sky, by the eve of the evacuation’s second day, Tom’s agitation was reaching fever pitch. Arms resting on his knees, he watched the point behind Norman’s head where the horizon burned. Dunkirk. Tom was in half a mind to wrestle a paddle from an oarsman, just to give himself something to do. Their lifeboat, capacity 40, made its slow way back to the beach and the 300,000 people waiting to be rescued. From their position a mile off the coast, the evacuees looked like ants fleeing a magnify glass.

“What’s on your mind, Tom?” Norman asked. His back was to the beach and Tom envied his brief position of ignorance.

“How come our ship is called HMS Keith?” Tom tried to sound light, breezy. “Keith isn’t the name you give a fighting ship.”

“You what?”

“All the other ships are called Atlantic, Calcutta, Dreadnought, and we get Keith.”

Norman shrugged. “Well? What’s the problem with that?”

Tom leant down to fix his shoe in order to give his hands focus. “Well, Keith was always the name of the kid who wore a balaclava till April, candlewax snot hanging from his nose.” He thought irresistibly of Frank Smith and Norman laughed at him. The sound lightened Tom’s mood and he continued the jest. “How many trips back and forth have we done? Twenty? And not one tip all day-”

“Would you like it better if it was HMS Tom?”

“If it was called HMS Tom it wouldn’t be here, mate. It’d be cruising round the brothels of the Med.” Tom’s arms came to rest once more on his knees, head oscillating a little as he fixed his mouth in a smirk. Norman thought it made him look cocky, like he was gearing up for a fight. Tom knew that it was a nervous twitch, something to make himself seem bigger when danger loomed. He glanced behind Norman again. They were getting closer. Black smoke billowed in the town beyond the beach and the fearful shouting of the stranded filled the air like braying horses.

By the time they made it to the beach, Tom’s agitation had turned itself into reassurances to the soldiers and an eagerness to be as far away from France as possible. So close to England, it was almost as if he could smell home over the sea and gunpowder.

“Move it lads! Fritz is due to call again soon and he won’t be selling ice creams. You’ve had all day to sunbathe, just get on board, let’s go home, eh?” He called to the queue of soldiers shuffling into the shallow water. They looked like the living dead. Behind him, Norman and the oarsmen hauled them into the lifeboat. “Go on, here you are pal.” Tom gripped the shoulder of a man as he stumbled on the unstable ground. A young man in civilian clothing took his chance and pushed forward through the queue. Tom spotted him in an instant, pushing the man back as he tried to board the boat. “No chance, get to the back and wait your turn.”

“You can’t stop me,” The man looked like a ghost, eyes rimmed with purple circles and face ashen with tiredness. He wasn’t French, though from where, Tom didn’t know. The stranger lunged forwards.

“Oh yeah?” Tom pulled a pistol from the waistband of his uniform. “I can with this. Jerry’s only gone for his tea break. If we don’t get away on this tide, we get sunk, so killing you’s a small price if it stops all these fellas buying it too.” Tom hated this. He’d let him on if he could, but thousands of angry soldiers would end him before the Germans if he did. What’s more, with a tiny boat full of scared and exhausted men, he needed to assert that he was in control. It was chaos enough on the beach, God help them if it spilled over into the rescue boats.

The man stumbled forward and spoke lowly, pressing his chest into the gun. “I’m ready for death.”

“We’re all fucking ready for death, mate.” Tom scoffed and indicated at the men surrounding him. “We’re all ready for death.” Once more, he pointed the gun towards the man.

“SHOOT ME!” The man screamed. Before the war, it would have stunned Tom, but he’d seen too much to know that death was a welcome choice by many now. In the dark of the night, he thought about it too. Tom watched all hope fade from the man’s eyes and was about to take his hand when another solider grabbed the stranger by the shoulders.

“Get out of the way,” he growled, pulling him backwards until he fell into the shallows. “Get back and fight for your country, you Polish bugger.”

Thankful, Tom continued calling to the soldiers. “Right, behave lads. Any more hassle and we’ll be going home with a boat half full, alright? Now come on. I’ll put the kettle on for us, eh? Let’s go home.”

“You won’t want any of his tea,” Norman shouted as he pulled another man into the lifeboat. “Bath water tastes better.” A few soldiers let out half-hearted laughs, which for Tom and Norman, was an achievement in itself. They smiled at each other a moment and, there with his friend, Tom forgot about the war around them. For that second, they were just two friends on the beach at sunset. The sounds of war had faded.

A muted thud carried across the expanse of beach. Then another. The dull thumping of metal and rock. From the clouds above, Luftwaffe descended. Two from the east and two from the west, they wailed their battle cry. Sand soared into the air, each mound rising closer and closer to the boat. Tom froze. He looked around. Men were scrambling towards the boats, back up the beach towards the town. Debris from the already bombed out boats and trucks ripped through the air, through bodies. Like dominos men fell, or else were blown into the sky. Was Tom ready to die? If I don’t come back, know that I think of you every second of every day. He saw her. Sat at the piano. At the dancehall, tucked under the blankets and sat on the front step. On the carousel, hair aflame under the lights.

Boom, boom, BOOM. A missile struck the lifeboat nearest Tom’s own, and in a flash, he ran. From all sides, metal, sand and viscera attacked his senses. Weaving around scattered bodies, Tom ran as his eyes scanned the beach. What he was searching for, he didn’t know. Somewhere to hide? Someone sent to rescue the rescuers? The juddering of gunfire sounded and screams rent the air. Keep weaving. Bullets flew past his ears and he ducked. Through the mist of sand, he saw the metal hull of an overturned truck. If he could just reach it, he could clammer inside or hide beneath it. Twenty metres. His legs were burning. Ten metres. Next to him a man dropped. Five metres. Hot pain ripped through his shoulder. He could smell the burning of his own flesh. Taste gunpowder and iron on the air. The force of the bullet caused Tom to stagger and, breathless with pain, he collapsed.

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The clattering of the ceramic pan rang echoed throughout the ward, and Bess fell into a seat by the soldier’s bed.

“What is the meaning of this?” The matron hissed as she stormed towards Bess. Joan and Helen looked at her from their nearby stations. Since the death of her brother, Bess’ ‘funny turns’, as Joan and Helen called them, increased but she had always managed to push through until now.

“I’m sorry, Sister Stern,” Bess knelt from the chair and fumbled to pick up the equipment. “I’m sorry-” A pair of gleaming boots entered her vision and she looked up. Sister Stern was staring at her down the bridge of her pinched nose.

“You’re white as a sheet,” the matron said, placing a hand on Bess’ forehead. “And burning up. Go home at once. You’re no use to us here in this state.”

“Yes, Sister.” Bess bowed her head, not looking at her friends as hurried away. Bess didn’t go home as the matron demanded. Instead, she boarded the first bus for Longsight. Something told her she had to get to the Bennett’s.

She heard him before she saw him. From beyond the turning to their street, Bess heard Douglas’ shouts through the fog.

“Anybody in?” There was the unmistakable thundering of fists on doors. “Hey? Are you in? Come on! Help me-” Bess’ feet hurried along the cobbles. More banging. “Hello? Are you in? Help me, help me, help me. Come on!” By the time she made out the man amongst the fog he was trembling, hands over his eyes and cowering on the pavement. Bess ran to him just as he slumped onto the floor.

“Douglas, ssh, come on.” She struggled to lift him. “Let’s get you inside.” Two more figures arrived through the haze.

“Dad?” Lois and Connie rushed forward and placed their arms beneath Douglas’.

“Help me get him in,” Bess said to Connie. “Lois, you get the door.” It was half an hour before the three women managed to get Douglas settled, and even then he muttered under his breath and stared into nothingness.

“I know it. I can feel it in here,” Douglas indicated to his chest, and Bess looked at the kitchen table scattered with newspapers and a magnifying glass. Another chip broke away from her heart.

“Any real news? Not one of your “feelings” like Gypsy Rose Lee on Blackpool Prom.” Lois said gently. She was just like Cora, and Bess gazed at her in awe. Pregnant and alone to look after her father, Lois Bennett was extraordinary.

“If anything’s happened to him, I made him go,” Douglas mumbled. “I told him to go. I…I made him-”

“Dad,” Lois tried to reason with him.

“I’m no dad. I’m no father. No father to you. No father to him. I’m no father, me.” Connie and Bess looked at each other as Douglas continued to spiral. “We just have to wait now.” He stood abruptly and made his way to the wireless.

“They’re not going to announce anything on the radio, are they? Not just like that-” Bess heard the plea in Lois’ voice but she was cut off by her father.

“Shut up, will you?”

Bess whispered to Connie. “I’ll back in a minute.” Connie merely nodded and watched Bess speed across the road. Dadda would know what to do. Wiping tears from her eyes, she opened the door to her childhood home.

“Dadda?” She called out. “Dadda?” No-one replied. Deflated, Bess realised that everyone would still be at work. Just as she turned to leave the house, a thud came from above her head. Tentatively, nervously, Bess made her way upstairs. “Hello?” The door to her old bedroom was open. Nothing. No-one. Across the hall, the door to her father’s room was ajar. “Dadda?” She pushed it open. Face down, drool spilling from his mouth, Fergal was asleep on the bed. One arm was flung out across the bed and beneath the hand that lolled over the frame, an empty whisky bottle lay on its side on the floor. She stared at his pitiful state for a moment, then her eyes drifted to the empty bed next to the door. Set out, perfectly folded atop the quilt, was a jumper and pair of moleskin trousers. A framed photo was propped on the pillow, and Albie smiled gently at her from the faded image. Bess wanted to scream. Instead, she stepped from the room and slammed the door to her old bedroom. She heard her father grunt. Good. She couldn’t care less about his sore head and sorry state. Sitting on the bed she once shared with Dot, Bess opened her purse and took out the photograph she always carried with her.

“Don’t you dare be dead, Tom Bennett. Don’t you dare.”

Notes: Woof. Writing this has been a rollercoaster. Just a little note again to say that I replaced Fred in the episode with lovely Norman. Poor Grzegorz too. I’m hoping we’ll see him and Tom interact again in WoF series 2, considering Grzegorz is now in Manchester. Also, the letter situation is very obviously inspired by Atonement, which incidentally has one of the best Dunkirk scenes in cinema!! Next chapter soon!

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring

[nethhiri]

The Kid Pirates modern funeral home au thing you posted about has been living in my head rent free since I saw it. The idea of heat being so good at making the dead look alive meanwhile looking kind of corpsey himself is so perfect. And then I could see Wire doing most of his work from dusk into the night to not have to deal with the heat of the day and totally not because there’s at least 8 different urban legends and cryptids in town that are actually just him- rip to the teens passing by a Denny’s parking lot only to see a giant looming cloaked figure passing under the single flickering street lamp before disappearing into the night (he had just finished work and was taking his to go order of pancakes to the car to eat in peace and listen to some late night radio). I could also see Kid making a killing around Halloween time building cheap plywood coffins as props and Halloween decorations and he, Killer and the gang passing out candy in Victoria as a trunk-or-treat style thing.

Haha aw! It's so funny that I posted it on a whim and actually it's gotten a lot of attention 😂

LOVE the idea of Wire as the town cryptid. Maybe he has a sun allergy or porphyria.

And Kid building coffins for Halloween is such a cute idea!!! Bringing Victoria to pass out candy like they're hanging out with their long-passed friend 🥺

I was thinking about Heat being a good mortician bc I bet he got really self-conscious about his scars and learned how to do makeup to cover them up. Then when he got older, translated those skills into a job.

I also picture Kid inheriting this business from some random old-ass relative and kind of being forced into the job, dragging his friends with him. It would go down like:

"No! Building caskets was your dream! I wanna build ships!"

"I'll give you $100."

"I love building caskets!"

Also maybe they have a sick punk band as their night job: The Crypt Keepers

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

HAPPY THURSDAY CAL!

what a line-up you've got for us this week 😁 I'm looking forward to getting lost reading these

🔮🔮🔮🔮

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

⚡⚡

🚨🚨🚨

🦮🦮🦮🦮

🔼🔼

HEY!

Thank you so much!!! I appreciate you!!!!

Here's 12 for 🔮:

---

 He seems kind. Buck wonders what sort of hurt causes a kind person to sneer at their father’s funeral. If Buck’s father died tomorrow, he would at least be somber. 

The reception isn’t very long. There isn’t any nostalgic reflection to it, the way Buck has seen at other funerals. People pay their respects to the Nash family, maybe have a bite, then leave. There’s an overall discomfort in the air. Buck tries to listen to hear if anyone mentions how a relatively young man died. Cancer? On the job accident? Heart attack? No one says anything.

---

24 for 🩸:

---

“Mom is home,” May mumbles, head pressed against the cool glass of Eddie’s truck window. “She’s not on shift.”

“Okay, we’re going to get you to her,” Eddie promises. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I feel like shit,” she mumbles. “But at least my eyes don’t hurt looking out the window?”

“I probably hurt your chest. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t just let me die,” she replies. “Would kind of make you a crap firefighter.”

Eddie doesn’t tell her he’s not a firefighter anymore. This isn’t about him. 

When the truck pulls into Bobby and Athena’s driveway, Eddie gives a little, frantic honk. Athena comes hurrying out a moment later, bewildered expression on her face. The moment she sees Eddie helping a struggling May out of the car, her features morph with parental protectiveness and panic. Eddie understands it completely.

“May?” She exclaims. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Mom…” May struggles to explain. No doubt she is completely overwhelmed. 

“It happened to her,” Eddie fills in. 

“What happened to her?” Athena demands.

---

45 for 🧟‍♂️:

---

“Give it to me,” Bobby says, after Buck pulls a tarp off the equipment. 

Buck sighs and begins unplugging things. Each action feels like a betrayal. 

“Jesus, Buck.” Bobby says as he examines the setup. “How long did you think this setup would last? I can feel the heat radiating off that laptop. It’s going to burn out or start a fire.”

“Well, now it won’t,” Buck grumbles. He sounds like a child about to pitch a fit. He sounds younger than Denny. He resents himself immediately. 

He can hear Bobby’s frustration in his next exhale of breath. Valid. 

“I’m not trying to be an asshole, Buck. I’m just trying to keep all of us safe.”

The thing is, Buck knows he’s right. He knows that’s the truth. He knows that’s all Bobby wants. Bobby would lay down his life for any one of them. Without a second thought. 

But he still hates this.

“I know,” Buck says. He takes a deep, self-collecting breath. “I’m sorry.”

Bobby collects the equipment. The signal is cut. And Buck might be insane, he might be crazy, but all he can think of is Maddie out there somewhere, searching for him, only to find the only trace of him suddenly gone. Will she think he is gone too? Will she think he’s given up? He won’t. Not ever. 

---

^^^ I could only actually give you 32. You will soon see why.

48 for 👑:

---

“Nothing,” Tommy says quickly. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Is that right?” Hen raises an eyebrow.

Captain Nash - Bobby, he wants to be called Bobby - scans the four of them, dubious. Chim flares with annoyance. If Sal and Tommy’s bullshit act gives Nash a bad impression of Hen… Well… Well, then Chim will do exactly what he did when she showed up all those years ago. He’ll defend her. He’ll always stand up for Hen.

“Han here is just complaining about having to work on the holiday,” Sal shrugs. 

“Holiday is tomorrow, DeLuca,” Chim fires back. 

“Okay,” Bobby nods. “I think I see.”

Chim’s not sure what he thinks he sees, but if he’s taking Sal’s word for anything, he’s wrong. 

But before anyone can say anything else, the alarm rings. Chim and Hen don’t get to see where Bobby’s thoughts lie. But Chim has dealt with this shit for long enough. He has a pretty good idea. 

👑👑👑

It’s a quick med call. Dislocated knee. Nothing serious. Well, okay, a little serious for the knee, but that’s about it. It should be entirely unremarkable, except for the fact that when they get back, Hen disappears into Bobby’s office and talks to the new captain for almost an hour. This is not something that is normal for her. She usually avoids long conversations with their captains, given how the first one treated her. Chim’s not sure who initiated the interaction, but in either case, it’s weird. 

“Isn’t she gay?” Sal jokes when enough time has passed without Hen emerging. Tommy chuckles nervously.

Chim personally hopes he gets crushed by a falling piano. 

When, finally, Bobby and Hen emerge from his office, Bobby looks across the upper station floor to where Chim is sitting and waves him over. What the fuck?

“Your turn,” Sal mutters. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Chim snaps. 

Sal blinks, surprised. 

Chim doesn’t wait for a response. He walks off towards Bobby’s office, ready to find out whatever the hell is going on. He passes Hen by as he walks, mouthing a little what’s happening to her. She winks, but says nothing. Which is even more confusing. 

“Take a seat, Howard,” Bobby says when Chim walks into the office. He closes the door behind them. 

“Please, call me Chimney.” Chim corrects, taking a seat. 

“Okay, Chimney.” Bobby nods.

---

6 for ⚡:

---

Buck actually giggles and opens his mouth. Okay, he’s still a little drunk, too. Unsure if Buck is expecting a Tylenol or his dick, Eddie places the medicine tablet on Buck’s tongue.

Buck swallows it. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“You should really also have something to drink,” Eddie advises.

---

9 for 🚨:

---

“I know,” Eddie nods. “God, Hen, I know that. Of course, Karen… Karen is amazing.”

“I don’t want to leave my son either,” Hen says. “But if he got sick? Because of me? Because of my job?”

---

12 for 🦮:

---

Nausea in his stomach. He opens his mouth to ask another question, but before he can, he hears his name being called.

“Buck?”

He whirls around to see Eddie walking towards them, dressed in an oversized LAFD hoodie and sweats. He’s pale. Bruised and scraped. Lips white. Hair damp. Eyes big and sort of frightened. Like he’s still processing the fact that he nearly died. Of course he is. That shit takes time.

---

6 for 🔼:

---

Eddie has to work hard not to react to that. Because he gets it. He does. Especially after all the shit that happened with Buck’s sister. But the thought that Eddie doesn’t even get to be frustrated right now without being cast as some angry, scary man? It hurts.

[lamuradex]

Stitches of the Mind: Character Profile 1

For October I'm gonna do brief profiles on the main characters for my Stitches of the Mind novels. No major spoilers, most of what I'll cover is backstory.

So, to begin with:

Tammy Wordsworth

Description:

Tammy was a young woman in her late twenties, with raven-black hair down to her shoulders, softly pale skin, and a thin build. She was medium height, standing only a few inches shorter than Dennis, wearing a light-purple turtleneck with dark denim jeans. Her arms were less folded and more wrapped around herself as she stood beside the open doorway.

Tammy is an ordinary twenty-something living in the once sleepy town of Meadowhurst. Born and raised in London, she moved to Meadowhurst for work, taking a job in town planning with her having a head for precise measurements and structure. Not exactly a passion as a job, but one she is very comfortable with.

A bookish introvert when she first arrived, she was pulled from her shell somewhat by some of the locals, with her meeting them through Rhianne, one of her new neighbours who'd come in to complain about the local postman and kindly invited her out with them.

Rhianne, Jaqueline, Rebecca, Penny, and Tammy herself, soon became a fast group of friends, spending days hanging out and evenings at the bars. With her new friends, Tammy managed to forget many of her anxieties and just have fun for a change...

That was until Penny Willows disappeared. Until the Willows Murders began. Until her life fell apart.

With Penny wracking up bodies, Tammy's despair only built. She and her remaining friends soon became the focus of the police investigation, to reveal them as conspirators or in hopes the girls could shed a light on why Penny was doing this, or where she was.

Tammy struggled to even believe it was real. Her friend, Penny, a killer? It didn't make sense. That was until one murder landed too close to home.

Rebecca Tanson, victim four, her body was found in the trees on the outskirts of town. One of her best friends killed by another. Tammy could deny it no longer.

This of course only redoubled the police's belief in some conspiracy, but there was little more they could ask the girls. Rebecca's funeral was held, and promptly disturbed by two officers, but beyond that all they could do was keep going. Tammy was placed on a medical sabbatical from her job considering all she'd been through, but this was as much a blessing as a curse.

Tammy, now functionally alone, struggles against her own mind as much as her isolation. Trapped in her life and her thoughts, her weekly ritual to place flowers on Rebecca's grave is the only event to break up the monotony. Her friends have vanished, retreated into their own little worlds of safety, leaving her by herself. And every day she feels like she could be doing more... even if she isn't actually a policeman and knows it isn't her job.

But she knows Penny. Maybe she'd see something others would miss. Not that the police would listen, as many still believe she is somehow in league with Penny.

But Tammy isn't a threat to anyone. Alone, struggling to find a purpose in her despair and depression, she is honestly more likely to hurt herself before anyone else.

That is until she finds a purpose helping the new detective in town. Because maybe they'll catch Penny and her life can finally go back to normal.

It can go back to normal, can't it?

When faced with horrors, and questions of whether things they've faced are real, Tammy tries to believe in the natural and the logical... but when push comes to shove, and the idea of demons and monsters begins to creep in, she has to confront the fact she can't explain everything logically, and maybe the world is darker than she can imagine.

[dawn-of-worlds]

Riders and Steeds

Siarruk turn 9: 5 (leftover) + 1 (non-hoarding bonus) + 8 (roll) = 14 pts

Humans - travellers along the coast, exiles from the jungles of the Cardinal River, and intrepid explorers - have of late settled in the maze-lands of the southern continent. Their lives there are rough and short; the land is bereft of the cover they have learned to rely on, and food is hard to come by here. Sorrow and toil dominate their days.

Siarruk takes pity on these itinerant fools, and blesses one of their number, an expectant mother. Her child will be born with silver hair, a clear mark of greatness, the wisdom of youth in a young body; they name her Mpaden, Moon-Seeker.

Create Avatar: 7 pts

Mpaden shows great facility with the beasts of the maze-lands, charming turtles into her arms, and as she grows an idea sets into her head: she will tame the greatest beasts of all, and banish the fear from her people's hearts.

The monsters of the maze-lands, longmeer, are feared by the unprotected humans for their size and strength. Their crocodilian bodies and strong legs move swiftly over the tops of the ravines, while their meter-long necks and mouths full of teeth reach down into the brambles to pluck berries, eggs, and animals as large as young boars. They are viciously reactive and suspicious of newcomers, and are named also the killers of huntsmen. When Mpaden set out into the brush to tame a longmeer, her clan holds a funeral for her; her father whips himself with a braid of silver to mourn her foolishness.

Mpaden seeks out a mother longmeer in her nest, and at first is chased away, but she will not relent. Making camp in the barrens, she discovers a turtle in her bedroll, and spears it to death. She smears its blood and flesh on her body, and when she enters the nest the longmeer does not kill her, but licks the meat from her skin. She spends the night in its den, and leaves the next morning with two eggs cradled in her arms.

Command Avatar (Create Subrace): 2 pts

Mpaden raises the young longmeer from the egg, and they grow to follow her without question. The bonded pair of beasts become her mounts as she unites the clans of the maze-lands. Named Unna and Enna, they are the first of many, and Mpaden's people use their new mastery of longmeer to great advantage. In her middle age, Mpaden herself leads a band of raiders north, where they take treasures from the clans which once exiled her ancestors; but in the battle she is struck down by a stray spear. Her body is pinned to Unna's back, who bears her uncomplainingly home.

Her people prepare a great funeral for their founder, but Unna will not allow her body to be removed. When her father approaches, furious in grief, silver whip in hand, Mpaden's lifeless body raises an arm to take it from him - and Unna and Enna trot off into the night.

The Moon-Seeker remains a rider in the night. She becomes a legend among the longmeer-people, who are named the Denni. In moonlight she can be seen roaming the earth, always far from the road, but her eternal mounts' steps are sure. With a whip of silver hair she chastises poachers and despoilers, but a few claim to have met her in the wilderness and been invited to ride beside her on Enna. These few invariably return changed, gifted with the tongues of beasts.

Advance Civilization: 5 pts

In the next hundred years, the Denni set themselves apart not only as raiders of the jungle-peoples but as consummate scouts and survivors on meerback. They forge new trade routes on the continent they learn to call Akhon, from the maze-lands and the southernmost peninsula to the Cursed Sea. In time they come to regard themselves as separate from island- and tree-borne humanity; they are generally shorter and squatter, with their close bonds with the longmeer, practice of self-flagellation and blood baptism, and skill with necromancy setting them apart.

Siarruk has 0 points remaining.

[108garys]

What do you think the Clarke Siblings from little Hope are like as Siblings/cousins?

I'm trying to write a fanfic crossover with someone I headcanon as their cousin but it's hard because I've never written them in depth before, lol.

Also love your little doodles of them.

The one with The Reverand the funeral was hilarious.

Thank you, I have fun making those and I just can't unsee it after I put 2+2 about Carson's dialogue

Undercut because it gets long

Onto the question at hand, I imagine the Clarke family is very extensive(I mean I fully believe characters are related to their same face model characters) but as cousins I think it'd first depend on if they live close and who's closest in age, if the other character is imagined to have grown up in little hope and is within a similar age bracket then I could see them having an honorary siblings type status but if they only see them once in a blue moon it may be worth factoring in the Clarke children being adopted. What I mean is without necessarily stating it you could have that distance feel even greater due to character perceptions if you want them to start rocky

Attempting to speak more individualy, Dennis is in a band, plays football and is resident grouch, quick to voice his frustration and obviously boast about his record collection, I've heard him described along the lines of being an odd mix between rebel and conservative, he's very suspicious of new/different things but he's got that whole counter culture garage band thing going on(So picture him as the type of youth that would have been seen as "influenced by devil music" in the satanic panic whilst also very much doing the panicking himself), as a sibling he's shown showing off his music to Anthony and complaining if he defends Megan or Tanya(about Vince), if there's a chance he'd have beef with this other character he's not going to keep his opinions to himself and if he has a more positive relationship I imagine he'd be more casual and layed back but still he's gonna voice his opinion wether it's asked for it not

In contrast Tanya is much more closed off, she has a wall between her home life and her personal life, her family doesn't know about her beliefs and she longs to be away from it all, she dislikes getting involved believing that she'd just make things worse(but that may apply more to her parents), she's still very snarky in her interactions with her brothers and beneath it all she's soft(much like Taylor), I'd say she's very unlikely to reveal her beliefs to extended family and she may see dealing with them as a chore but again I think she'd keep it to herself, unless they just really vibe(tanya's sport is tennis), I'd say that all the in-game clues scattered around the whole town doing alternative stuff would indicate that she gets up to shenanigans and it ties in with her desire for personal freedom and that sense that her home life and personal life are two different things so again I could see her being closer to a hypothetical cousin if for example they'd run off and get up to trouble as kids. I think deep down she'd care for her cousin when it counts tho

For Megan it's a little more complicated, a lot of it depends on if you keep her being mentored by reverend Carson, at the time of the prologue that'd been ongoing for about two years and it's trickier to get a handle on how different she'd be if that was excluded(most likely she'd be a much more normal kid) but in general she'd be that one little cousin that's always getting into trouble as she acts out and gets into stuff that she shouldn't, Megan's issue is that she feels ignored, I feel like she'd probably become a cousin's shadow, especially if they're nice to her. Music is the one subject she's not failing so you could latch onto that if it's relevant

With Anthony he's very snarky/sarcastic but ultimately puts others ahead of himself, he seems to get along with others easily, that being said he also uses James's wording calling their household a mad house, he obviously loves history, he skateboards and plays baseball(crazy I know). Anthony's feelings of being on the outside are less relevant due to that being a post fire development, I'd say if Tanya is quiet rebellion then Anthony is quiet compassion, he expresses a lot of concern for Megan but doesn't approach her instead asking someone else to do it, it's not that he doesn't care so much as its a communication issue, he worries about her and she's unaware so her feelings of being ignored aren't helped. I think he'd get along with a cousin at least on a surface level unless they're a mega jerk, tho he could be a bit awkward depending as usual

I'll admit that I've never gotten an ask like this and I'm unsure how well I answered your question(haven't slept and personally forget my cousins exist from time to time so that may effect my answer)

I'd definitely open this question to others in the little hope fandom as I'm sure you'll get much more useful takes in the reblogs(damn I hope this wasn't too rammbly 😅)

[kamryn1963]

So Long, London- Chapter 11

Things did start looking up. Al decided to turn back to journaling, something a therapist he used to go to years ago, suggested. It had been a long time since Al did it but he forgot how much it helped. After writing down everything he remembered and felt about the Dennis Lee case and the blame he thought he held, Al began forgiving himself. 

It was a slow process but writing everything out helped and he was starting to feel better. He even started leaving the pocket knife at home and not bringing it with him to work everyday. 

Trudy was also doing better. She had ended up taking a week off and after that and after Nadia’s funeral, Al saw her start to heal and give herself time to grief before coming back to work.

Erin still wasn’t doing well and not back to work. He knew she handed Hank her badge and “quit” but Al also knew that she’d be back eventually. It would just take some time for her. They had talked a couple days ago on the phone, Al just wanting her to know he was there when she was ready. He was surprised but glad that Erin didn’t hang up on him right away and let him speak. 

Now he was on his way to meet Linda Sovana. Alvin had gotten that phone call the day before. That had been a surprise if he ever had one. He didn’t even know that Linda knew Al had been an undercover cop when they met, let alone his name and number. 

After the meeting he was left with more questions than answers. The meeting had lasted a whole ten minutes where Linda had been incredibly vague before leaving. Al stood there longer. He had taken the morning off work so he had three hours of time and a whole ton of questions. 

Al sighed and climbed back in his car. He could go into work now anyway, but Al had somewhere else he was going to try to go first to get his mind off this meeting with Linda and check in on his neice. It was about a twenty minute drive from where he was. 

When Al pulled up, he was glad to see Erin’s car was the only one in the driveway and he didn’t have to deal with Bunny today. 

Al was also glad to find the front door was unlocked. It was good for him but why did no one care about safety? 

Al let himself in finding Erin on the couch looking like she was nursing a pretty bad hangover as she looked up and met his eyes. 

“That’s called breaking and entering”. Erin said her words slightly slurred as Al perched on the edge of the armchair. 

“Don’t leave the front door unlocked than”. Al retorted as he looked her over. She looked as bad as she had sounded on the phone. 

“What are you doing here? Hank send you?” Erin asked once she realized Al wasn’t about to leave anytime soon. 

“I was in the area. I wanted to check on you, entirely on my own free will”. Al replied. 

“Well I don’t need checking on ''. Erin responded defensively as she stood up and stumbled to the kitchen. 

“Clearly”. Al scoffed. 

Erin didn’t reply, just rolled her eyes as she grabbed two mugs and started making a pot of coffee. 

“What were you doing in the area?” Erin asked after a couple minutes of silence. Al wasn’t just going to leave and at least this way he wouldn’t be questioning her. 

“Meeting somebody. A woman I met on an undercover assignment I was on, oh, fifteen years ago now”. Al replied as Erin came back in the room and handed him one of the mugs which he accepted with a nod of thanks. 

“She just randomly called you?” Erin questioned and Al understood why it sounded weird. It was weird to him. 

“Yeah. Didn’t tell me why either, was really vague”. 

“Do you think it’s anything bad?” Erin asked. Despite quitting her job, Erin had missed this. She just wasn’t ready to go back and see Nadia’s empty desk everyday. 

“I’m not sure, honestly. Probably, but if that was the case, wouldn’t she tell me instead of meeting up with me and not saying anything. All she really said was reminding me that she saved my ass, when I was undercover and told me to remember that”. Al said as he thought about the interaction. That part stuck out to him the most. 

“That’s not creepy at all”. Erin replied as she rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. 

Al chuckled as he nodded and drank his own coffee. 

“Keep me updated?” Erin asked and Al could see the concern in his eyes. 

“Of course, kid”. 

Al ended up staying another hour until Erin said she was going to try to sleep for a bit, and Al decided to just head into work. Al hugged her before he left, making sure to tell Erin again that he was always there to talk. 

Work was fine, a regular case which was good because Al’s mind was occupied with his meeting with Linda. 

Four days later he had his answer. 

A week later he was driving to a cafe to meet with Michelle Sovana. The fifteen year old tennager that was apparently his daughter. 

Al understood what Linda meant when she said not to forget that she saved his cover all those years ago, Linda was going away so what better time than to spring the fact he has another daughter on him. 

Al tried not to think about that night. The night he slept with Linda. That supposed to be a few weeks undercover assignment, had turned into a year. This had happened near the end. Linda hadn’t lived in the same city as her cousin who Al was trying to take down for years, but moved back there in the eighth month of his assignment. 

Al’s Sergeant wanted him out as much as Al himself wanted out and told Al the best way to end this was for him to use Linda to get information. 

Al never wanted to do that, didn’t want to cheat on Meredith and ruin his marriage but he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. He either slept with Linda for the information, or his Sergeant made it pretty clear he wouldn’t have a job anymore. 

Al made a choice but he hated himself for it everyday. 

When he met Michelle, Al decided he might hate himself a little less now. 

Michelle was already there, huddled in a booth with a backpack. Al took a minute to just look her over. 

Trudy had joked before that his genes were strong when Lexi came out looking so much like him and little like Meredith, but he really saw it right now n Michelle who looked like a female version of him. . 

Al would probably do a paternity test later, he was almost positive he wasn’t the only man Linda was sleeping with back then, and he didn’t want to get anyones hopes up, but Al would be surprised if Michelle wasn’t his with how alike him she looked. 

Eventually Michelle seemed to spot him and Al took a deep breath before coming over and sitting across from her. Neither of them said anything until Michelle finally broke the silence looking at him. 

“You're Alvin right? My dad apparently”. Michelle asked and Al could see the various emotions in her eyes. 

“I am. And your Michelle”. Al replied as he started tapping his fingers on the table unsure what to say or do. 

“Look I just need some money and I won’t bother you again”. Michelle said after a few minutes of awkward silence. 

Al instantly shook his head but still reached for his wallet. “You're not bothering me, Michelle. Not at all”. Al responded as he grabbed out all the cash he had. Fifty dollars, and handed it to her. 

“Thanks”. Michelle responded as she solved it into her backpack and went to stand up. 

“Do you need a ride? I’m more than happy to take you somewhere”. Al offered. He wasn’t going to force Michelle to talk more but he wanted to know she was somewhere safe. Even if Michelle wasn’t his daughter, she was still a teenage girl with little family probably living on the streets. 

Michelle seemed to hesitate and was about to turn his offer down, but she nodded and Al was relieved as he smiled and gently led her to his car. 

“So you're a cop?” Michelle asked. They’d been driving for about ten minutes at this point. Al was focused on the address Michelle had given him of her cousin's house the place she had apparently been staying since getting out of juvie. It took a minute for Al to realize she was talking to him and when he did he looked over at her and his badge that was in the cup holder she had obviously noticed. 

“Yeah, twenty five years now”. Al replied. 

“How did you and my mom meet?” Michelle asked next and Al felt like he was being interrogated. Or like Hank and Trudy were talking to him. 

“I was undercover”. Al answered honestly as he pulled up at the house. He didn’t know how much details to give Michelle right now. How much did he tell a fifteen year old girl he just met. 

“Do you have other kids?” Michelle said next, not looking that bothered that they were at the house. 

“I do, Lexi, she’s eighteen”. Lexi had just turned eighteen a few weeks ago and graduated highschool in only three months. It was insane to Al and made him feel old. 

Michelle nodded digesting the information and went to ask another question when the front door of the house opened and a man probably in his early twenties, opened the door and looked at his car seemingly spotting Michelle and looked to be waiting for her. Al assumed this was her cousin and judging by the gang tattoos he was covered in, Al assumed he wasn’t the nicest guy around. 

“I should go”. Michelle said as she grabbed her bag and looked at Al. 

“Are you sure? I have an extra room in my apartment”. Al offered but Michelle just shook her head as she opened the car door. 

“I’ll be fine”. Michelle replied and Al nodded as he grabbed the pad of paper and pen he always had with him, and quickly wrote his number and address down. Al handed it to Michelle who stuffed it into his pocket with a grateful look. 

Michelle quickly got out and after she was inside, Al started the drive back home. He was ready to collapse in bed and try to figure out what to do. 

Al wondered what Erin would say about this. 

[invisibleicewands]

A mum shouldn’t have to go to her child’s funeral’: Sharon Horgan and Michael Sheen on making moving TV

f Best Interests – a drama about a mother who takes the NHS to court after doctors decide to allow her teenage daughter to die – feels too harrowing to countenance, you’re not alone: even the cast can’t bring themselves to watch it. “It was hard enough doing it on the day,” says Sharon Horgan of playing Nicci, the mother in question. Michael Sheen, who co-stars as her husband Andrew – a man devastated by his daughter’s illness but unwilling to back his wife’s appeal – is also avoiding it. “I’m more nervous than usual,” he admits. “I know it’s going to be a difficult watch.”

That’s an understatement. Best Interests begins with Nicci and Andrew on a train, giddily happy, slightly frisky and, as we soon realise, uncharacteristically carefree. Over the next four hours, we see their relationship falter under the pressure of caring for their younger daughter Marnie (Niamh Moriarty) who has muscular dystrophy, as consultants tell them her condition has progressed beyond all medical intervention – something that leads Nicci to mount a headline-grabbing, life-upending legal challenge. It’s little wonder Horgan had doubts about taking the role in the first place. “I was really nervous about how much this was going to fuck me up,” she says. It ended up being as crushing as she feared. “We spent a lot of time in terrible pain. You have to go to some really awful places to get yourself into that mindset and stay there. Sometimes you come home and go: ‘What kind of a weird job is this?’”

And yet – and this is the caveat that makes the show not simply a gruelling experience, but a life-affirming and thoroughly absorbing one – Best Interests is also very funny. There is droll banter about crisps in waiting rooms, there are silly jokes about knickers and, after the unthinkable finally happens, there is daft familial teasing. “People will be put through the wringer,” says Horgan. “But we want this to feel like a real family, and in real families – even when they are in the worst possible situation – people laugh.” That said, desolation is never far away: at one point, Andrew is reading The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole at Marnie’s bedside when an inadvertently pertinent passage prompts a flood of tears: at moments such as these, the show dances between comedy and tragedy in a remarkable way. Thankfully, it is not quite the slapstick affair it could have been. “I remember doing a very stupid dance at one point, I don’t know if that’s still in?” Sheen asks tentatively. I tell him it’s not ringing any bells. “That probably means it’s not there, so that’s good!”

Instead we have Sheen’s Andrew as a slouchy, goofy beta male, who enjoys 90s indie and the odd spliff, and is an expert teller of comfortingly lame dad jokes (such is the casual majesty of Sheen’s performance, he has already won the best actor award at French TV festival Series Mania). Horgan is equally brilliant as Nicci, a weary but awe-inspiringly on-it woman suffused with the actor’s trademark wincingly honest wit. While Sheen is a garlanded dramatic actor who was well established in theatre before becoming film-star famous in the 00s for his exceptional impersonations (Tony Blair, David Frost, Brian Clough, Kenneth Williams), Horgan is still best known for her pioneering TV comedy. From gritty sitcom Pulling to dramedy Catastrophe and recent hit Bad Sisters, she is now a giant of the genre; as a serious actor, however, her career is only just taking off. “If you’re known for comedy, people don’t generally throw a lot of dramas at you,” she says.

In 2021, she was a revelation in pandemic drama Together, written by her Pulling co-creator Dennis Kelly, yet Horgan feels Nicci is her “most dramatically led role” – another reason she’s not keen to watch it back. “I just don’t want to get all hypercritical on myself. I did it – there’s nothing I can do about it now!” Horgan says she has always wanted to do comedy and drama simultaneously, and is happy the genre binaries are melting away. “Back in the day I used to do a lot more sitcom-style shows, and now it blends a lot: a lot of dramas are really funny and a lot of comedies … aren’t,” she says, dissolving into laughter at her damning critique of the current comedy landscape. “What I mean is some of my favourite things, like The Bear, there’s not many laughs in it.”

I speak to Horgan and Sheen separately over Zoom – the former perched on her bed, the latter bearded and avuncular in a tartan shirt, sitting in his office in Margam Park near Port Talbot, where he’s about to direct BBC drama The Way. (So idyllic are his surroundings that he pauses to show me two gambolling baby deer from his window.) They may be miles apart, but the pair are very much on the same page when it comes to Best Interests. Instead of meticulously researching the kind of media circus court cases that inspired the drama (the 2017 case of Charlie Gard being perhaps the most famous example), they opted to come to the action unschooled, as they imagine Nicci and Andrew would have been. And while both were left awed by the parents with disabled children they met – “I just don’t know how I would have the strength in that situation,” says Horgan – they ended up drawing primarily on their own personal experiences.

Sheen found himself recalling his own family history while thinking about the cosmic horror of losing a child. “My grandmother’s son – my uncle – died of cancer while she was still alive. I always remember her saying a mother should not have to go to her child’s funeral. That just shouldn’t happen.” He was also reckoning with anxieties of his own. During the filming of the show, Sheen’s partner Anna Lundberg was pregnant with their second child and the due date was fast approaching. Then the pregnancy turned out to be “not completely straightforward”, Sheen says. “There were some fears about our unborn baby, and if there are any kinds of complications or worries that really weighs on you.” The stress filtered into his performance, especially when it came to the heartbreaking flashback scenes in which a six-month-old Marnie’s bewildered parents receive her diagnosis.

For Horgan, Nicci’s story was incredibly close to home. “My kid had meningitis when she was young,” she says (Horgan has two teenage daughters with her ex-husband, businessman Jeremy Rainbird). “While we thought we might lose her – as I was watching them trying to find a vein and get some antibiotics into her – I remember thinking: ‘I don’t care what happens – like, take off her limbs, whatever you need to do – just keep her alive.’”

In Best Interests, the story of Nicci, Andrew and Marnie (plus elder daughter Katie, played with mild insolence by Conversations With Friends’ Alison Oliver) doesn’t exist in a vacuum. In recent years, writer Jack Thorne – one of the most respected figures in British TV – has dedicated himself to making programmes about people with disabilities, partly because of his own struggles: he suffered from a debilitating long-term illness in his 20s, and was recently diagnosed with autism. In 2021 he made Help, which starred Jodie Comer as a carer looking after a man with early-onset Alzheimer’s (Stephen Graham) in the pandemic, and last year he created Then Barbara Met Alan, a one-off drama about the founders of the Disabled People’s Direct Action Network, a protest group fighting for disabled people’s rights.

According to Sheen and Horgan, Thorne’s advocacy for disabled people permeated the entire shoot. The cast was populated by actors with disabilities: Moriarty, who has a form of cerebral palsy called spastic diplegia, is joined by Lenny Rush, the Bafta-winning breakout star of Am I Being Unreasonable? who has dwarfism, and Mat Fraser, an actor and activist with thalidomide-induced phocomelia. Behind the scenes, things were just as inclusive. “Our set photographer was hearing-impaired, the person shadowing our director was a wheelchair user – there was an enormous amount of diversity,” says Horgan. “It just felt like this is the world we live in and unfortunately TV and film doesn’t usually represent that.” There was an attitude of presumed equality. Sheen remembers coming to do a scene and “in the script there was no mention of a physical disability and then the actor who did it had a physical disability and it was not a thing. That was so refreshing.”

The show wears its politics lightly, though. Even the Christian pressure group Nicci turns to in desperation is portrayed with relative ambivalence – after all, says Sheen, “you don’t want to wink at the audience about how you feel about the characters”. Thorne is too clever a writer for obvious didacticism, and while you might come away feeling conflicted – or even disgusted – by the legal process that has lawyers brutally picking holes in the parents and consultants in court, it’s hard to envisage what could replace it.

What you will be invariably left with, however, is a sense of the existential struggle those with disabled children face in a society unwilling to accommodate them. Sheen remembers Thorne talking about the attitude towards disabled people in the pandemic: “that somehow people with disabilities were slightly more dispensable and anyone dying through Covid who had disabilities, it wasn’t as big a deal as people who didn’t have them.” For Horgan, playing Nicci alerted her to a system that “sees disabled life as less important. Everything she gets for Marnie is a struggle, whether it’s equipment or a wheelchair or education. Her life is battling.”

It’s a sad, outrageous truth, which this excellent drama unflinchingly captures. Yet the show is also keen to emphasise that this is just one element of life with a disabled child. Despite its tragic ending, the real beauty – and, for me, lasting impression – of Best Interests is the way it evokes the overwhelming joy that comes with parenting any child, whatever the difficulties. The worst of times, yes – but also the best.

[merelygifted]

Marion County Record publishes in defiance of police raid — and gets seized property back - Kansas Reflector

Marion County Record staff worked through the night to publish the paper’s weekly edition as scheduled Wednesday, days after police raided the newsroom and confiscated computers, cellphones and other items.

A single word screamed across the top of the paper in 200-point bold type — “SEIZED” — followed by a defiant statement: “… but not silenced.”

Authorities returned property taken by police during Friday’s raid but said they would continue to investigate whether a newspaper reporter had committed a crime by verifying information from a confidential source.

Eric Meyer, the owner and publisher of the newspaper, said it was important the newspaper prevail in this First Amendment fight.

“This just couldn’t stand,” Meyer said. “If it did, it would be the end of people ever being able to send anything anonymously to a newspaper. It would be the end of news organizations ever pursuing any sort of controversial story.”

Marion Police Chief Gideon Cody and his officers executed a search warrant last week at the newspaper office, Meyer’s home and a councilwoman’s home. The action attracted international attention — and contributed to the death of Meyer’s 98-year-old mother, who spent her final hours in anguish over the raid. Funeral services are planned for Saturday.

Meyer said his mother would be pleased by the outpouring of support the newspaper has received in recent days. That includes 2,000 new subscriptions for a newspaper that previously had a circulation of about 4,000.

As distribution staff waited for bundles of newspapers to arrive Wednesday morning from the press in Hutchinson, they handled an unrelenting stream of phone calls from people interested in purchasing a subscription. The calls came from New Hampshire, Florida, New Mexico, New York, Michigan, Texas, Vermont, Germany, Massachusetts, Illinois and Montana.  ...

...  Dennis Calvert drove from Wichita to purchase a six-month subscription. A U.S. Navy veteran who served on a nuclear submarine in the 1970s, he said many people have died to protect the kind of rights that Marion police violated when they raided the newspaper office.

“What the PD did here, in my opinion, from what I know, they are ****ing out of line,” Calvert said. “They are totally off the ****ing board. They’ve lost their morals, man.”

“It just shoves a burr up my butt,” he added. “This is the kind of stuff, it shouldn’t be tolerated. In my opinion, right now, the police chief should be sitting over here in the jail.”

[badnew2005]

GETTING DEEP (i feel guilty for my thoughts and urges All of the time) IM OUT IF MY DEPTH AT A PUBLIC BEACH (i’m drowning. the storms out of control. i never learnt the weather (that was gods job!) why is it Up To Me WHY IS IT ME please i did. So Good God why are you doing this to me why am i being tested like this. if there was a god there’s no way he would make me queer. He Wouldn’t Do That To Me. not after all of this. there are Two Guys in this church who are GAY. whose the other guy. i don’t get the joke. he’s never gonna get it) I NEVER LISTENED I HAD TO SEE FOR MYSELF (i never listened. i tried i tried so hard. to be good. to be loveable. everyone can see it, that you hate me that you made me queer. i think i hate you too. i’m sorry. i know that’s why you’re testing me like this i’m sorry i tried to be better i tried to be a good follower to do everything you wanted. i just wanted someone to Like me. ive been asking for too much. going to their door I’m Here to convert you to fix you. standing in a storm begging god for a sign. i’m doing gods work. you can’t convert me no i’m stronger than that. i just Had to go see for myself. i wasn’t as strong as i thought)

ITS COMING IN WAVES SHOOTS THROUGH MY MIND LIKE A PINBALL STRAYED (i feel guilty every day i can’t get rid of those thoughts anymore the doubt the hatred the love the list every sin imaginable. throwing a party in my head. i’ll invite you god but i’m afraid you won’t come) FRIENDLY FIRE POINTBLANK (i should have done more with the gang. they’ve led me astray it’s Their Fault Not mine. i tried my best. i should have had a bible in the bar. in every room. we should have gone to church) SLAT IN MY LUNGS (no it’s my fault i cant blame them i shouldn’t blame them i know i’m sorry) HOLDING MY BREATH MAKING PEACE WITH MY INEVITABLE DEATH (this storm is going to drown me. it’s going to leave my body an unrecognisable mangled wreck. and nobody’s coming to the funeral. and nobody will pick me up afterwards and take me home. i’m going to die. there’s no surviving this. there’s no safe way out of the storm. mac almost drowning in the middle of this war the gang being thrown into purgatory for their sins mac walking in on his own accord to tell them he’s gay. he’s still seeing it as a sin. and that he’s turned his back on god. there was no way to live as Both gay and christian in his mind. jesus isn’t going to listen to us he’s just not cause we’re bad people. if he’s going to listen to anyone it will be mac. mac you’ve been talking to him your whole life he knows you mac he doesn’t even know who i am. save us. there’s no god! if i’m gay then there is no god. the gang deciding to drown in the brig on their own choice. dying together holding hands. mac nodding and reassuring dennis. holding hands with charlie “let’s go be with the gang” let’s die together as a group. he was prepared to drown in that storm, but at least he had the gang by his side. mac being the last person saved out of the sinking ship. the door opening the heavens shining the gang kicking and fighting their way up leaving mac the believer who saved them to drown. mac trying to pull them all back down. making peace with my inevitable death making peace going to hell with the gang. he can’t face god after what he’s done. immediately telling ‘the police’ he’s not gay because they got saved and that proved god was real and God Was Listening To Him. i’m not gay i’m not gay IM NOT GAY)

I GUESS I DID ALRIGHT CONSIDERING (mac turning to religion because of his parents neglect just wanting Someone to like him. Some form of comfort and contact with the world. Trust and Faith in Something else. something to blame something to explain why everyone treated bim like they did. surely i didn’t start out unloveable. someone will come along one day (it’s been too many one days at this point. only charlie dennis dee and frank have shown up. they still don’t like me really, just can’t get rid of me.) ronald macdonald destined to grow up a lonely clown. begging for a god to love him. i hate you god and i hate you dad i hate you mom are the same sentences. and its blasphemy to say any of them. i know i didn’t deserve that love who am i kidding myself i’ve always been weird and annoying i think they could all see the queer problem raging within me. i want to be able to hate you all. charlie dennis dee and frank included) TRIED TO BE A HALFWAY DECENT FRIEND WOUND UP A BAD COMEDIAN AN HONEST FOOL WITH MORE BAD HABITS THAN YOU CAN COUNT ( my friends don’t actually like me. they just can’t get rid of me i’m just There. i’m not going to leave i’ll cling onto this hatred because at least it’s Some form of human connection forever. it’s all i’ve got. i know i don’t deserve anything better and i’m selfish asking for it. but i cant stop begging. that’s just the sinner in me i guess. relentless. i TRIED to be good to be likeable but they’re sick of me anyways. they only keep me around to laugh at. to have something to make themselves feel better about. hey at least i’m not mac! i don’t think i’ve gone longer than a few hours without a drink since i was a child. since we all met. since i found god. is god at the bottom of this bottle or is it the devil is the booze what’s putting these thoughts in my head. a punishment for my gluttony. i’ll never find out. there’s too many bottles to search through)

THERE WE WERE WAS ANYONE EVER SO YOUNG (cat loves mac forever. we were so Young. and already miserable) BREAKING CURFEW WITH ILLEGAL FIREWORKS (doing anything and everything to get attention from your parents. screaming look at me look at me. even if it’s with hate and anger and violence. just see me. i never stopped being a baby screaming at the top of his lungs for love and affection) UNPACKIN GOD IN THE SUBURBS (charmac meeting the twins getting introduced and invited into their upper middle class lives. trying to argue about god insulting everything he’s done for them. at least i don’t have money tempting me to a life of sin. but dennis himself introducing a temptation now unable to be swatted away. the storm rages)

IM SWIMMING BACK (i’m learning how to control the storm. to find the eye of the tornado. understanding how the rain helps things grow. i think i’m growing. i don’t want to drown. saving myself because i’ve learnt there’s no lifeguards looking out for me. i’m going to survive. i’m gay.) SEE YOU DONT HAVE TO MAKE IT BAD JUST CAUSE YOU KNOW HOW (dennis you can just go back in Go Back In GO BACK IN. no i think i’m out now. i didn’t get swallowed by the wave. i learnt to ride my own melt. you’ve been begging me to come out for years and now i have you cant take this away from me you can’t make it about you. i’m not moulding my life around what makes you comfortable. you’re gayer than me and ten times the sinner i’m not going to keep repenting for your mistakes anymore. i’m not killing myself just to give you my blood and heart. we made the closet our home and you blindfolded me, span me around and kicked me out of a moving plane. but i’m swimming back. with or without you.)

WRITING THE WORDS TO THE WORST LOVE SONG YOUVE EVER HEARD (but i love you. i’ll never stop. even with all this anger and pain and misery. i’ll love you forever. in every way there is (i’m finding new paths and new lives). i carved out a place for two and it’s empty without you. i’m not going to wait for you to learn to swim but there will always be a beach towel next to me, a life ring thrown into the water, a lifeboat if you drown. i’ll always be a lighthouse for you. i hope you can follow me out of the water.) SOUNDING OUT THE FOREIGN CHARACTERS (everything’s different and the Same after the storm. finding peace in the middle. a rainbow after the flood. i don’t know how to be this new person i don’t know if i feel very Proud yet. but i’m trying) AN INCANTATION LIKE AN ANTICURSE (mac being the only one in the gang gets cursed to Not be cursed. just his own behaviour and actions. coming out, having his emotional evolution. the storms been lifted. i’m not longer cursed. and as long as it keeps me safe and happy i won’t stop saying it out loud) OR EVEN A BLESSING (my religion and my sexuality are at war. but i’m not in the middle of it anymore. i avoided the draft! i signed my own peace treaty. and it didn’t solve every problem in my life but. i can breathe again)