#Ryan: Sorry baby. At least that was better than the time Luke---

[bettsfic]

so i watched a movie called Half Nelson last night, for which Ryan Gosling was nominated for an Oscar in 2006. it's about a middle school teacher struggling with a drug addiction who forms a deeply inappropriate relationship friendship with one of his students after she catches him using.

i have no pertinent craft thoughts about this film (you can read my Ryan Gosling Summer craft essays in this month's newsletter) but my notes for this particular movie became as unhinged as the movie itself, and i thought i'd share them.

because my handwriting is mostly illegible, i've provided a translation and context below each note.

Jesse Pinkman vibes

Calculator watch!

Dan (Gosling) is basically a proto Jesse Pinkman in this movie. and he wears a calculator watch. it's worth noting that during the sex scene later, there is an inordinate amount of attention placed on said watch, and i honestly can't tell if that's supposed to be funny or not.

Gets high, goes to a bar, starts lecturing girls about pedagogy

this is the only part of the movie where i liked Dan, because i too lecture on pedagogy when i'm high.

Broken Social Scene ass soundtrack

just found out that Broken Social Scene did in fact score the film.

"I cleaned up," he says before railing a line of cocaine

no context needed.

"Are you a communist?"

"It's just not cool to be a Nazi anymore, baby."

HE IS GRINDING AGAINST HER AT A DANCE?

I trust Anthony Mackie way more than this fucker

Bloody nose in class

Dead cat?

This is so hard to watch.

i don't know how to provide context for this. i had such profound secondhand embarrassment that i could barely keep watching. the succession of events goes something like: Dan has sex with a woman who asks him the next morning if he's a communist. they have a conversation about politics. we skip to a middle school dance/mixer where Dan dances very inappropriately with the 13 year old he's "befriended," Drey. by this point the movie makes it very clear that their relationship is inappropriate. Dan gets high behind the school building and offers to give Drey a ride home, but she goes with Frank (Anthony Mackie) who is a drug dealer but a way better guy than Dan, even though he's trying to get her to sell drugs for him. Frank is trying to save Drey from Dan; Dan is trying to save Drey from Frank. the next day, Dan gets a nosebleed in class and later comes home to find his cat dead? for some reason? i don't know. it's all so painful.

[a graph of Ryan Gosling's characters, with bad to good as the X-axis and likable to unlikable as the Y-axis. Dan Dunne, the character in this movie, is in the "good, unlikable" quadrant.]

to pass the time i created this handy little chart, which puts Ken (Barbie) and Lars (Lars and the Real Girl) in the likable/good quadrant, with K (Blade Runner 2049) and Noah (The Notebook) slightly below them, Sierra Six (The Gray Man) and Dean (Blue Valentine) in the likable/bad quadrant, Jacob Palmer (Crazy Stupid Love) in the bad/unlikable quadrant (sorry i know i have followers who love this movie but womanizing just really pisses me off, even though he does grow as a character by the end), and Dan Dunne (Half Nelson) in the good/unlikable quadrant, even though i kind of changed my mind by the end of the movie.

i forgot Handsome Luke (Place Beyond the Pines) and the driver (Drive), but i think they'd both be close to the center but in the bad/likable quadrant.

For all this movie's faults, burnout drug addict middle school teacher Ryan Gosling pouring an entire pot of coffee into a thermos is a LOOK.

this scene had very little context and i have none to add.

[Ryan Gosling movie] checklist

shirtless

mommy issues

misunderstood loner

falls for cute blonde girl (CBG)

good guy made to do bad things

inappropriate relationship

still bored, i made a checklist. Ryan Gosling's characters are always at least three of these, with "shirtless" and "mommy issues" prevailing. also "cute blonde girl" isn't a description as much as a flat character type that fascinates me.

HE BUYS FROM HER WTF WTF WTF

okay during what i found to be a both boring and torturous film, a scene happens that made me go "oh, i get why he was nominated for an Oscar for this." Frank has gotten Drey to start selling for him, and she goes to a motel to drop off, where she finds two sex workers, some random guy, and her history teacher, Dan. this is the third time she's caught him using but he's always kind of guilty and apologetic about it, and my interpretation is that a lot of their "friendship" has to do with him trying to earn back her admiration. but this time, he's on the bathroom floor and he just gives her this look, the patented Ryan Gosling "i'm in love with you" look which is probably why he's the romantic lead in so many things, and hands her a wad of cash. and it's so wildly fucked up to see that look used in this context, weaponized, because it's not to her, it's to the baggie she's holding.

the whole movie is very much a critical commentary on white savior narratives. i have no idea if it's a successful commentary, or even if it's a good movie, but i can safely say i've never seen anything like it. i don't think it's aged well, overall i don't think it's Gosling's best performance even though many people believe it is, and i absolutely don't recommend it.

[lexasdagger]

[tessatechaitea]

Justice Society of America #10 (1993)

Fact: Golden Age heroes didn't have penises.

I was starfished on my bedroom floor tonight staring at the ceiling and thinking about how in my teens and twenties, I could revel in it, thinking, "Who am I? Who will I become? What does life have in store for me?" But a grown ass man doing that simply thinks, "This is it, isn't it?" At least I can lose myself in reading comic books I've already read and which I didn't really enjoy that much the first time. It might sound like a waste of time but it gives my life meaning! The most shallow of meanings, sure. But at least I'm not growing old watching conservative news because I need anything at all to light my passion. I'll say this about Fox News: they understand how old people are so bored they'll watch the dumbest shit and then get mad about it. I know other people who aren't old also watch Fox News. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with them. I guess they have fears and hatreds I hope I'll never truly understand. I just don't understand watching Fox News (or any of the other non-propaganda 24 hour news sites). People do understand there are channels which show programs that make you laugh or feel merry or that simply entertain the other non-lizard parts of your brain, right? How do you pick Fox News when you can watch Sci-fi or Buzzr Comedy Central or the Ru-Paul's Drag Race all day channel? I just realized that the people who watch Fox News basically use Twitter the same way. The majority of my feed are funny people so even when they're discussing politics, it's always entertaining (or fiercely intelligent because witty people are smart. Dumb people think they're witty (see Mike Huckabee)). But when I check out the Twitter feeds of conservatives I know, at best they'll retweet a sports tweet sandwiched between forty retweets of Ben Shapiro and Dinesh Souza. Maybe they think some of the right wing pundits they follow are funny. But calling somebody a mean name or tagging everything "liberal tears" isn't funny. It's the kind of funny that the bully's weasely sidekick guffaws over and then says, "You tell 'em, Jimmy!" Speaking of things bullies would say, it's now time for me to criticize Len Strazewski's Justice Society. Previously, some old fart named Kulak made everybody in the world begin to hate. But they aren't just randomly hating everybody else. They really seem to be bonding over their hatred for the Justice Society of America. Is this story a metaphor about me and my hatred of this comic book? Because that would be a terrible metaphor seeing as how I don't really hate this comic. I wish I did though! I'm old and I need to feel passion! I bet if I hadn't dropped cable eighteen years ago, I'd be addicted to Fox News too! No, I wouldn't be. I'm as liberal as you can be while still making offensive jokes. So not really that liberal, I guess? Maybe I'm socially, economically, and politically liberal. But I'm a complete asshole when it comes to punchlines. Don't get me wrong! I don't make offensive jokes at the expense of people different than me. I make offensive jokes about myself and those Goddamned fucking babies. Fuck those parasitic monsters. This issue begins with Starman finally reappearing.

It really wasn't exciting enough for an announcement of his return. He's just another half-balding old guy. But it lets me talk about the DC Universe show, Stargirl!

I decided to watch Stargirl because what else am I going to do with my life? Finish reading Gravity's Rainbow? I mean, I am going to do that now that I'm done re-reading those awful Lando Calrissian books. But I can't spend all of time reading Pynchon! Just too much of it! I mean, I'm only 18 pages into Gravity's Rainbow (which is further than I've ever gotten on my previous three attempts!) and I'd estimate I don't understand 5% of the words he's used. And that's me being an English Lit major who has been a voracious reader his entire 48 years (minus the ones where I couldn't read yet. Like ten or something?). I was in bed reading and didn't have a dictionary at hand so I just powered through. But I think I need to go back through and learn all of those words so I can impress the local Starbucks barista! Or are people not impressed when you use a word they have nearly zero chance of knowing and don't know you enough to keep the conversation going by asking you what that means and instead just smile and nod and glance occasionally at the tip jar? Anyway, so I've watched three episodes so far and I'll tell you how I feel about it after I mention how I've actually watched four episodes. The first episode I watched, I was impressed with because Courtney was already palling around with a bunch of legacy JSA members and the Injustice Society was trying to tackle the "Who is Stargirl?" problem and I watched it thinking, "This is really impressive how they decided to start in the middle of the story like this. I like it!" Then I went to watch episode two and I was confused because it didn't seem to follow after the previous episode. So I kept thinking, "Maybe this is a flashback?" And then eighteen minutes into it, I thought, "Maybe I didn't watch the pilot episode. I'd better check." And I started watching the first episode which I totally hadn't seen. So I guess I started with Episode 7 or something. Here are some of my tweet-thoughts on the show for those who don't follow me on Twitter (why don't you follow me on twitter? What is wrong with you? Is it because you don't know I'm @GrunionGuy?): Tweet #1: "Sometimes you think maybe you're having inappropriate thoughts but then you check to make sure the actress playing a fifteen year old Stargirl is actually 21 and then you breathe a sigh of relief and think, 'I won't be cancelled today! Unless I tweet this experience, probably.'" Tweet #2: "Sometimes you think maybe you're having inappropriate thoughts but then remember it's okay to fuck a car that's been converted into a giant robot with Luke Wilson inside of it." Tweet #3: "3rd episode of Stargirl begins with a dying white woman's final wish to her white husband that he make the world safe for their white son. She dies and he goes out into the enormous hedge maze garden of his mansion to scream into the sky about the injustice of it all. All in all, a pretty good villain origin!" That third tweet was the only one that really makes any sort of socially acceptable commentary on the show. Saying things like "Stargirl's butt doesn't look like my mouth should be inside of it because she's fifteen although the actress is twenty-one so maybe it actually does look like that?" aren't the greatest things to admit even if you're just joking (which I am but just adding this statement makes it sound like I'm not but I totally am (that "totally" doesn't help but I assure you, I'm joking (did the hole just get deeper?))). I mean, sure, her body is super fit because she's a super hero (or will be?). But she has such a baby face! And even at twenty-one, she's just a baby! If I were younger, I'd totally have a crush on her. But I'm 48 and I just don't consider young women proper targets for my sexual deviance anymore. The only interaction I should have with young women these days is warning them against going out to the summer camp at the lake where that boy drowned so many years ago. The girls I had a crush on when I was younger (Christina Applegate (Kelly Bundy), Winona Ryder (Veronica Sawyer), and Stacie Mistysyn (Caitlin Ryan)), I have even more of a crush on now. Judging by the crushes I've had my whole life and not society's stereotype of women, women definitely get better looking as they get older. And probably as I get older. I'm sure that's part of it although I like to think that fifteen year old me would still look at these nearly fifty (or maybe fifty? I'm not so obsessed I know their ages but they're all around my age anyway) year old women and think, "Holy fuck mommy." I'm sorry for that last comment. But I'm only sorry to God not anybody who was reading this. Oh, I forgot to mention that Joel McHale is the original Starman (I mean original in the show although he's Sylvester Pemberton who was never Starman but only Skyman although in the show he was at one point the Star-Spangled Kid and Luke Wilson does mention Ted Knight at some point). And he's funny in his death scene just like he should be because I've obviously decides Sylvester is Jeff Winger's new superhero secret identity alias. Starman heads off with his Cosmic Buttplug to stop Kulak in Gotham City. He doesn't know it yet but the rest of his pals are currently battling Kulak and probably losing. Although Kulak is even older than they are so maybe it's a fair fight. I'm just surprised that a comic book where old men battle other old men has made it ten issues.

I think some editor was fired last issue and the new editor's only job was to make sure it didn't look like Thunderbolt had been speared through the asshole.

Although this editor seemed to think it was okay to have Hawkgirl fucked from behind by Kulak.

I hope this isn't a terrible conservative take on women that exposes how terrible I am at sex but even mind-controlled, I can't imagine licking a woman's shoulder would elicit that response. Although she could be "Ummming" from his pee-hee in her bee-boo.

I know conservative talking points are generally fucking idiotic but Ben Shapiro somehow thinking women can get "too wet" from sexual excitement might be the most hilariously idiotic. I don't think I've been with a woman who was all, "Yes! Yes! Lick my shoulder blade!" and I then I got super into it and then suddenly she was all, "Nope. Too wet. This isn't working for me anymore. I need a doctor, I guess?" Who am I kidding? I know I've never been with a woman who did that because that would mean I've had to have been with a woman! Also, women get wet down there? What's that about? Is it because the vagina cries at the sight of the penis? Kulak takes away all of their super powers but I guess he forgets that Wildcat doesn't have any so I'm hoping Wildcat just punches him in the face soon. Although that Starman bit probably was a hint at how the coming fight might end. You know, with Starman shoving his Cosmic Buttplug into Kulak's third eye, if you know what I'm saying. You probably do because I called it a Cosmic Buttplug. I should try to be more subtle. Kulak's entire purpose is to get revenge on the Justice Society for defeating him way back in 1940. Can't even one super villain just accept defeat and move on with their lives? Or are writers just always going to be so inherently lazy that they'll never give up the crutch of the villain attacking the hero directly out of revenge for that one single time they tried to actually commit a crime and were stopped? The JSA puts up a fight that helps to drain Kulak's power but it isn't until Starman arrives and does that thing I mentioned with his Cosmic Buttplug that Kulak is defeated.

This is the grossest orgasm I've ever seen and my computer is riddled with viruses from all of the previous ones I've watched.

After Kulak's defeat, Jesse Quick wraps up the issue with her super hero dissertation which is less a dissertation and more of a thorough cleaning of all of their asses with her tongue. She's all, "I didn't really do much research or define heroes too good but the Justice Society of America are my heroes so I deserver a degree, right?" Justice Society of America #10 Rating: B. This comic book was as average as they get. I suppose that should garner a C grade but a B grade just seems to say decent but mediocre. By the time I get down to a C grade, I feel like the comic book needs a lot more faults than "I don't really care about stories with heroes who are having strokes during the battles." It's a valid criticism but it's probably too subjective for a critical review. I know, I know! When has that ever stopped me before? Well, I feel charitable today. It probably has something to do with Mars being so close to the full moon earlier this week. My blood is all riled up and wacky!

[douxreviews]

The Handmaid's Tale - ‘Unfit’ Review

"I've never seen anyone so devoted."

Like the Canadian story line, the flashbacks in this show are often a welcome relief from the horrors of present day Gilead. This time, not so much.

Let me start by saying that Ann Dowd is absolutely awesome as the fearsome Aunt Lydia, and a flashback to her past should have done more to explain her character. Instead, even in her past, Lydia was taking children from their mothers while pontificating about her good intentions. She is just as conflicted and confusing as she always was. Maybe there's just no explaining people like Lydia. Or anyone who fits in Gilead.

Lydia Clements was a fourth grade teacher who used to work in family law. She went from judging Noelle, a poor young mother with a bad job, to helping her financially and giving her emotional support (which was lovely), to initiating legal proceedings that successfully took Noelle's son Ryan away from her. A remarkably bad thing that followed a remarkably good thing, and note how Lydia's clothing and hair style changed from loose, comfortable and attractive to a Gilead-like shapeless outfit and restrained bun.

This was tied in to Lydia's possible new boyfriend, Principal Jim. Lydia and Jim seemed so well matched: both were single again with careers in education, and clearly religious since they both quoted the Bible in casual conversation. Jim even said grace in the karaoke bar before they ate. (Karaoke "Islands in the Stream." Too cute, and adorably out of character for Lydia.)

Why would their aborted lovemaking on the couch push Lydia over the edge into such overwhelming shame, into violently destroying her own image in a mirror? Was it because she finally allowed herself to acknowledge her own sexual needs, and being rejected was too heavy a blow? For that matter, why did Jim stop? His wife died three years ago. Was it really too soon for him, or did her aggressive move on the couch turn him off? And why did this incident make Lydia turn on Noelle? Because Noelle had encouraged her to date again, had given her makeup?

Tying this into our lead character, we've all been wondering how June is still alive considering how badly she's been acting. I think June is too angry right now to be frightened of what could happen to her. Maybe Aunt Lydia sees June the way she saw Noelle, as someone she would try over and over again to push in the right direction – until she didn't. This doesn't bode well for June.

I enjoyed the three gossipy aunts around a table matching Handmaids to Commanders more than the flashbacks. This was background that we needed. Aunt Lydia complained about June's misbehavior, but then she talked about June being misled. "We never had issues with Ofjoseph before the Waterfords. A problem household, to say the least. And she was there for all that business with Emily." Aunt Elizabeth added, "And Lillie." It's an explanation for why June is still alive and undamaged. Not a great one, but an explanation.

During the almost comical testifying scene in the gym, June did acknowledge that Frances' death was June's fault, and that Hannah would suffer for what June did. And then June took that opportunity to turn on Ofmatthew, saying truthfully that Ofmatthew didn't want her baby. We learned that Ofmatthew thought her baby was going to be a girl this time, and she didn't want to bring a daughter into Gilead. I so can't blame her.

During their shopping trip to Loaves and Fishes, June smiled as Ofmatthew snatched the guardian's gun and went on her desperation spree, and then she nodded when Ofmatthew was aiming the gun at her. I think June was ready to die. When Ofmatthew changed her target to Aunt Lydia, I was yelling, "Kill her!" Sadly, no. The death of Ofmatthew and her possibly female fetus, along with the death of Ofandy's baby girl, felt like a metaphor for the murderous sickness of Gilead's culture.

Racism in Gilead

This is the second episode in a row that featured the horrible death of a black woman. It's also the first time race was so much as mentioned. During that fascinating scene with the Aunts and the sherry and the files on the lazy susan, Aunt Lydia said that one of the Commanders didn't want a Handmaid of color. Racial prejudice exists in Gilead, but it is kept on the down low. Under the table, pun intended.

Critics of this show talk a lot about intersectionality, how jarring it is that Gilead is all about the misogyny while racial issues don't seem to exist, and really, I totally get that. It's a major change from Atwood's book. In reality, a fascist, misogynistic society like Gilead would almost certainly be deeply racist as well. I initially thought I understood why the producers made this decision. They wanted the focus of this fictional dystopia to be the oppression of women, period. There is also the practical consideration that if they had adhered more faithfully to the source material, the entire cast of this series would be white.

While I was thinking about what I would write about this episode, I realized that I hadn't thought through that assumption. They could have kept Gilead logically racist by having Handmaids of color while all of the Commanders and Wives were white. White slave owners in the past often raped and impregnated their black slaves, didn't they? And of course, June could have still had a black husband and daughter. I wonder why they didn't go that way? It would have made a lot more sense.

More glowing comments about the photography

As usual, the photography in this episode was spectacular. I was particularly struck by the from-above shot of Handmaids circling Ofandy with comfort and hugs, June in the snow with a red umbrella on her way to Loaves and Fishes, and the camera attached and moving with Ofmatthew's gun. The most striking was the line of red blood on white tile as Ofmatthew's body was dragged out of the store; it reminded me of the red ropes they use for hanging.

And the flashbacks were so pretty that they often looked unreal – the diffused lights on the Christmas tree, the sparkling clothing and hangings at the nightclub, the New Year's Eve glitter. I'm sure that was on purpose. The unreality, I mean.

Do they celebrate Christmas in Gilead? Has it been mentioned? It seems unlikely. But I didn't think they would have dancing, either.

Bits:

— The name of Hannah's Martha wasn't mentioned in the previous episode, but here, the very first scene started with June talking about Frances, and what an ordinary life she led before Gilead. Much like Lydia.

— Janine was kindness itself toward Ofmatthew, and when Ofmatthew lost it in Loaves and Fishes, she beat the crap out of Janine. It would have made more sense if Ofmatthew had attacked June, instead.

— During the birth scenes and the testifying, the Handmaids were acting a little like a bitchy high school clique. "Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!" actually made me laugh.

— June told Joseph Lawrence that he wasn't protecting Eleanor, he was suffocating her. Lawrence didn't take the bait. I'm starting to think the Lawrences are in danger. Gilead turns on its own on a regular basis. No one is safe.

— The Lydia/Ryan twenty questions scene that opened the flashback began with Ryan asking, "Am I alive?" I wonder. Is he?

— Gold acting stars for Ashleigh LaThrop, who played Ofmatthew. I wish we'd known her character's real name. Maybe we'll find out what it was at the beginning of the next episode.

Quotes:

Aunt Lydia: "Tell your friends to cool it." June: "I'm sorry, Aunt Lydia. I don't know what you're talking about. You want to take my tongue out? Burn my arm? Better hope they don't need me on TV again for Nichole."

June: "How did that rhyme go? The one we'd jump rope to? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. A game to tell what our children would grow up to be. The list is a lot shorter now, especially if it's a girl. Martha, Jezebel, Handmaid, Wife." What about "Aunt"?

Noelle: "You're a fucking coldhearted bitch!" Lydia: "I forgive you."

Aunt Lydia: "Sometimes it's the apple, and sometimes it's the barrel." Aunt Lydia has decided it's the barrel this time. She wants to transfer June to another household. Uh oh.

June: "I hurt her. and I enjoyed it. The wives and aunts, too, grieving over Ofandy's dead child. And Lawrence. They all deserve to suffer. It's an acquired taste, seeing others in pain. Like that smoky scotch Luke got as a gift once. I grew to like that."

June: "I finally know how Oflgen felt, what made her put on that bomb vest. […] And I know how Emily felt, right before she stuck a knife in Lydia's back." Again, it sure sounds like June is ready to die.

This is the second episode in a row that I didn't much like. Two out of four smoky scotches.

---

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.

[thelastspeecher]

Spy AU - Mission 2

Hey guess what, I’m terrible at titles, BUT I wrote almost 3k words building up the second de-aging mission I’ve been discussing that takes place in my increasingly ridiculous Spy AU.  So.  Here you go.

              Ford and Fiddleford eyed the table in front of them distastefully. Ford picked up a child’s polo shirt.

              “This don’t bode well,” Fiddleford muttered.  Ford put the shirt back on the table.

              “Oh, you are wrong there, Fiddleford,” Stan said.  “This mission is gonna be great.”  Ford and Fiddleford looked up.  Stan held the door to the debriefing room open, allowing Angie to enter.

              “Stanley?  Angie? What’s going on?” Ford asked. Angie beamed broadly.

              “Stan ‘n I will be yer handlers fer this mission.”

              “…Why?”

              “I’m sure ya can figure it out,” Angie said brightly, striding over to the two men and handing each of them a manila folder.

              “Nicholas Odysseus Young,” Ford read out loud.  He glanced over at Fiddleford.  “What’s your cover?”

              “Ryan Daedalus Young,” Fiddleford said.  “Hmm, are our covers related?”

              “Read the biography,” Stan said eagerly.  Ford flipped open the folder and skimmed the first page.  His jaw dropped open.  “Surprise!”

              “This can’t be right,” Ford said.  He looked at Stan.  “Why the hell would my cover be a nine-year-old?”  Fiddleford opened his own folder and yelped in surprise.

              “No, no, this has to be a typo,” Fiddleford insisted.  “It- it says my cover is six years old!”

              “Nope, that’s the right age,” Angie said.  “You two will be goin’ undercover at St. Luke’s Catholic School for Brilliant Boys.  It’s an elementary school.”

              “You’re enjoying this,” Ford said flatly.  Stan winked at him.

              “You got that right, son.”

              “Oh, no,” Fiddleford whispered.

              “Oh, yes,” Stan replied.  “The name’s Dr. Conner Young.”  He wrapped an arm around Angie’s middle.  “And this here is my lovely wife, Dr. Laura Young.”

              “We’re so excited that our amazing sons Nicholas and Ryan were accepted to the prestigious St. Luke’s,” Angie continued. She smiled sweetly at Ford and Fiddleford.  “We’re so proud of them.”

              “They were a shoo-in, Laura,” Stan said to Angie.

              “Well, of course, they were,” Angie replied.  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be proud and excited, Conner.”

              “I know, snookums,” Stan said, nuzzling Angie’s nose.  Angie giggled and kissed him on the cheek.

              “Great, we have to put up with this?” Ford muttered, looking away.

              “How long is this mission?” Fiddleford asked.  Angie and Stan stopped fawning over each other.

              “It’s long-term,” Angie answered.  “Much longer than the middle school mission was.”  

              “That’s…less than ideal,” Fiddleford said weakly.

              “Hey, we’re gonna take good care of you two,” Stan said soberly.  “I mean, I know we were pulling your leg a bit there, but it’s gonna be all right.”

              “You’re not the ones who will be literal children,” Ford snapped.  Stan and Angie stared at him.

              “…Maybe you should reconsider what you just said,” Stan said after a moment.

              “Stanford, Stan and I were thirteen-year-olds fer two months,” Angie said. “We effectively went through puberty fer a second time.  Ya won’t be dealin’ with mood swings ‘n voice cracks ‘n pimples ‘n all that other nonsense. Ya have to admit, the ages ya got dealt ‘re easier to handle than thirteen.”  Ford scratched the back of his neck.

              “That is a valid point, I suppose,” Ford mumbled.  He sighed.  “All right, tell us about the mission.”

              “There’s somethin’ fishy goin’ on at St. Luke’s.  We have reports of students and teachers actin’ strangely, and some of the more…fascinatin’ projects done by the students have gone missin’,” Angie said.  Ford frowned.

              “What do you mean, ‘fascinating projects’?”

              “This is a high-end school fer very intelligent children.  Durin’ science fairs, the students get up to all sorts of mischief.”

              “The FBI has been called to the school before, because of a student’s project,” Stan added.  Ford’s eyes lit up.  Stan grinned. “Thought you might be interested in that.”

              “And the strange behavior, can ya elaborate?” Fiddleford asked.

              “It seems that, every now and then, multiple students and/or teachers become almost zombie-like,” Angie said.  “Not the cravin’ brains part, but the movin’ slow and actin’ kinda dazed part.  Like they aren’t sure what they’re doin’ there, they’re just goin’ through the motions.  With these driven young geniuses, it’s very concernin’ to see ‘em act like that.”

              “I can imagine,” Ford said softly.  “What else can you tell us?”

              “Not much,” Stan said.  He grimaced. “We’ll basically be sending you in blind.  That’s why you’ve got two handlers.”  He looked down at his watch.  “We should get moving.  We’ll go over everything else when we get to the house.”

              “The house is really nice,” Angie put in.  “The Youngs are well off folk.”

              “At least there’s that,” Fiddleford said, feigning an upbeat tone. “Where’s the serum?”

              “Right here,” Stan said, placing two tall glasses full of red liquid on the table.  He caught Ford staring at his hair.  “…What?”

              “You, uh, you seem to have turned a bit silver on the sides,” Ford said. Stan ran a hand through his hair with a slight grin.

              “Yeah, Dr. Conner Young’s been through some stressful times in his life. Left him with some distinguished gray.”

              “Why did it take ya so long to notice the dye job?” Angie asked.  “Yer a spy.  Yer observation skills should be better ‘n that.”

              “I was a bit distracted by discovering that I’ll spend the next however many months as a nine-year-old,” Ford said dryly.

              “Drink yer medicine and get it over with,” Angie said, nudging the glasses of serum closer to them.  “We want some time to get settled into the house.”

              “Bottoms up,” Fiddleford mumbled, downing his glass.  He grimaced.  “Lord, that’s disgustin’!”

              “Yeah,” Stan said idly.  Ford also drank his portion of the serum.

              “Holy Moses, what’s in that?” Ford wheezed.

              “That’s a secret,” Fiddleford answered.  His voice wavered slightly mid-sentence.  He grabbed his pile of clothes off the table.  “It’ll hit us pretty fast, so we’d better go find some changin’ rooms ‘fore we, uh, change.”

----- 

              “You two done yet?” a bored voice asked.  Ford sighed quietly.  He took one last look at his reflection in the changing room mirror.  The child staring back at him had a familiar face, but it was not a face he was happy to see.  He scowled slightly, which only served to accentuate the chubbiness of his ruddy cheeks.

              “I can hear ya sighin’,” Angie called.  “Come on out, Nicholas.  I want to see my lil son.”  Ford pulled aside the privacy curtain.  Angie and Stan were waiting for him and Fiddleford.  They clearly had already changed into their disguises.  Both were wearing glasses and blazers, and Angie had a long wig that was put up into a simple bun.  Angie gasped.  “Oh goodness! Look at you!”

              “I already did so,” Ford mumbled.  Angie walked over to him and crouched down to his eye-height.

              “You’ve got just the cutest chubby cheeks,” Angie gushed.  “And those curls!”  She ruffled his hair.  “Yer too cute fer yer own good.”

              “Angie, please,” Ford said, moving her hand.  “I’m an adult, treat me as-”  There was a slight whish as Fiddleford pulled aside his own privacy curtain.

              “Holy shit,” Stan said flatly.  “Fidds?”

              “…Yes,” Fiddleford said in a small voice.  Angie and Ford looked over at Fiddleford.

              “Aw, yer so adorable,” Angie said, standing to her full height again.  “Just like in the fam’ly pictures.”  Fiddleford plucked at the overalls he was wearing.

              “I’m not a fan of-” Fiddleford started.  Stan strode over to Fiddleford and scooped him up in his arms.  “Hey!”

              “You’re so small and sweet, I feel like I should put you in my coffee, instead of sugar cubes,” Stan cooed. Fiddleford’s face turned bright red.

              “Stanley, please!”

              “Look at all those freckles you’ve got,” Stan continued, ignoring Fiddleford’s protests.  “Angie, did you see?”

              “Stanford’s got adorable lil freckles, too,” Angie said.

              “Stanley, put me down,” Fiddleford said.  “We haven’t even left HQ.  Please don’t treat me like a child.”

              “Oh.”  The near-manic look in Stan’s eye disappeared.  “Right.”  Stan carefully set Fiddleford down.  “Sorry.”

              “I was worried this might happen,” Ford said.

              “What?” Angie asked.  Ford sighed and clasped his hands behind his back.

              “Ever since you and Stan started discussing the possibility of having children, you’ve developed…how do I put this nicely?”

              “The two of ya have baby fever,” Fiddleford interjected.  “Real bad baby fever.  All ya can talk ‘bout is how cute kids are.”

              “Can you blame us?  Kids are really damn cute,” Stan said.  He gestured at Ford and Fiddleford.  “I mean, look at you two.”

              “We aren’t children, though,” Ford said firmly.  “We’re your brothers.  Your older brothers.  While we’re on this mission, please, just- try to tone down your parental instincts.  Between the two of you, it would get overwhelming very quickly.  We’re here to do our job, not get babied by our younger siblings.”  Stan and Angie exchanged a look.

              “That might be tough,” Stan said quietly.  “When we were debriefed, we were told to follow any parental instincts we might get.  Apparently that’s what you and Fidds were told for that middle school mission.”

              “Oh, Lord,” Fiddleford whispered.

              “But,” Angie interjected, “now that we know there’s a problem, we can do our best to keep the cover and keep the two of ya comfortable.”

              “I mean, just avoiding the topic of babies should help,” Ford said.  “That seems to be the trigger.”

              “Oof,” Stan mumbled.  “That’s, uh, that’s tough, too.  Laura and Conner are planning on trying for a third kid after their sons have become more used to their new house and school.  They really want a daughter, and they’ve already picked out a name.”  Ford and Fiddleford stared at him silently.  “Take it up with HQ if you’ve got a problem. We can’t do anything about it.”

              “…Fine,” Ford said.  He pointed to the folders with information about the mission, which were sitting on the table next to Angie.  “Would you mind taking those?  On our way to the house, we’ll discuss our plans and get our backstories thoroughly memorized.”  

              “Of course,” Angie said, grabbing the folders and placing them inside a large purse.  “Are you ready to go, then?”

              “Now’s as good a time as any,” Ford said.  Fiddleford nodded.  Stan took a hold of one of Fiddleford’s hands.

              “Stanley-” Fiddleford started.

              “We’re leaving the building as the Youngs,” Stan said, talking over Fiddleford. “Conner Young always holds Ryan’s hand when they’re walking around.  He doesn’t want to lose his son.”  Fiddleford sighed quietly and nodded.  He and Stan exited HQ through the lobby, Angie and Ford close behind.  Fiddleford sneezed at the bright sun.  Stan stifled a small chuckle.  “Now, where’d we park the car?” Stan asked, his voice adopting a warmer timbre than usual.

              “Conner, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on so tight,” Angie said with a smile.  Like Stan, she adjusted her voice, dropping it to a slightly lower pitch; an alto as opposed to her typical soprano.  Ford and Fiddleford exchanged a look.  The mission was a serious one if their handlers were bothering to disguise their voices beyond dropping their accents.

              “Aw, come on, honey, don’t tease me in front of the kids,” Stan said.

              “I think it deserves some teasing, since we’re right there,” Angie said, pointing at a silver minivan in the HQ parking lot.  A person walking by smiled at “the Youngs”.

              “Hey, cutie,” the stranger said to Fiddleford.  She beamed at Stan.  “Is this your son?”

              “Yep,” Stan said jovially.  He smiled down at Fiddleford.  “And you’re right, Ryan’s one heck of a cute kid.  Takes after his mama.”

              “Nicky takes after you, though, and he’s as cute as the dickens, too,” Angie said.  Ford had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping at Angie’s impromptu nickname.  The stranger chuckled.

              “Aren’t you the adorable family?  Have a good day.”

              “You too,” Stan and Angie said together.  The stranger walked into HQ.

              “Was that Carla?” Ford asked quietly.

              “Yes,” Angie said, also in a low tone.  Ford groaned.

              “Great.  A fellow agent saw me at nine years old.”  Angie ruffled his hair.

              “Aw, don’t be such a grump, Nicky,” she said loudly.  She crouched down and looked him in the eyes.  “That was way too loud.  I understand that you’re upset, and maybe feel a bit embarrassed, but you have to be quieter,” she whispered.  “Complaining is all right only when you can’t be heard by passersby.  Do you understand?”  Ford nodded. “Good.”  Angie stood up.

              “Nicky’s grumpy, Ryan’s tired,” Stan said, “it’s a good thing we’re headed home.”  Stan nudged Fiddleford slightly.  Fiddleford obediently yawned.

              “Agreed,” Angie said.  She took a hold of Ford’s hand.  “Come on, boys, let’s load up.”  Despite his best attempts, Ford found himself unable to squirm out of Angie’s tight grip, and he reluctantly held Angie’s hand as they walked to the car.  Stan dug the keys out of his pocket and clicked a button.  The door opened on its own, revealing three seats in the back row and two in the front, one of which had a child’s safety seat.  Stan picked Fiddleford up and placed him in the safety seat.

              “You’re still getting used to the new car, huh?” Stan said to Ford.  “Remember, you don’t get in on this side, ‘cause Ryan’s seat is here.”  Angie let go of Ford’s hand.  “Go around,” Stan prompted.  Ford walked to the other side of the van and climbed in.

              “Need help with buckling, Nicky?” Angie called.

              “No,” Ford replied.  Stan cleared his throat loudly.  “…Mom,” Ford added.  He looked at Stan, who nodded, confirming that he had said the right thing.

              “There you go,” Stan said as he finished buckling Fiddleford, whose face was beet red, into the safety seat.  Stan ruffled Fiddleford’s hair and smiled at him apologetically before closing the car door.

              “I can’t believe this,” Fiddleford said softly.  Angie, sitting in the passenger’s seat up front, turned around.  “Why?” Fiddleford whined.

              “I’m so sorry, Fidds,” Angie said.  “When they were gettin’ things set up fer the covers, HQ looked at the records fer both of ya, and Fidds, yer weight at six was within the range of when a car seat gets used.”

              “I didn’t use a car seat when I was six,” Fiddleford protested.

              “I know.  And when Stan ‘n I got shown the car, I told ‘em that.  But Conner and Laura Young make sure they follow all the safety precautions possible fer their kids.”

              “I’m beginning to sense that Conner and Laura are slightly overbearing parents,” Ford remarked.  Stan got into the driver’s seat.

              “I mean, kinda,” Stan said, starting the car.  NPR immediately blared over the radio.  Stan grimaced.  “Oh yeah, they listen to this junk, don’t they?”

              “I got it,” Angie said.  She turned the radio off.

              “They can get overbearing sometimes,” Stan said, “but mostly it’s just them being really invested parents.  Y’know, they’ve got doctorates, and they’re taking the same approach to parenting that they took when they got their degrees.  Doing all the right things and more.”

              “It’s also partially help make up fer the fact that Nicholas and Ryan didn’t start their lives in a stable environment,” Angie added.  She handed Ford and Fiddleford the folders with the mission information.  “Did ya notice that yer covers weren’t born in the US?”

              “Yes, I thought that was odd,” Ford said.  

              “Conner Young met Laura French in Central America,” Stan said.  “Conner was working as a translator, putting his PhD in Spanish to good use, and Laura was continuing the research she did for her doctoral thesis.”

              “What sort of research?” Fiddleford asked.

              “Bugs,” Stan said.

              “Entomological research,” Angie corrected.  “Laura’s degree is in entomology.”

              “That’s what I said.  Bugs,” Stan said, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.  Angie sighed.  “But anyways,” Stan continued, “Conner and Laura met, fell in love, got married, and had Nicholas.  Three years after that, they had Ryan.  This whole time, they were bouncing around Central America, not really staying in one place for too long.”

              “When Ryan was around five, he started asking his parents if he could be a big brother, like Nicholas was,” Angie said.  “And Conner and Laura started thinking about having a third kid.  They really wanted a daughter, after all. That was one of the things that made them decide to move back to the US and settle down.  They had issues keeping up with Nicholas and Ryan with their current lifestyle, and were worried about what would happen if they threw another child into the mix.”

              “This is a very detailed backstory,” Fiddleford said.  Stan and Angie nodded.

              “It’s a long-term mission.  There can’t be any discrepancies,” Angie said.  Ford looked down at the biography of Nicholas Young.

              “It says here that Nicholas is allergic to tree nuts,” Ford remarked.

              “Oh, shoot!  That’s right!”  Angie dug around in her purse.  “Ah, here it is.”  She handed him a silver bracelet.  “Laura’s allergic enough to tree nuts that she has to wear a medical bracelet, and so’s Nicky.”

              “Ah,” Ford said.  He slid the bracelet onto his wrist.  “Was calling me ‘Nicky’ really necessary?”

              “It was an impulse,” Angie said.  “Sorry.”

              “Look on the bright side,” Stan said.  “Now both of you have somethin’ about your covers to be embarrassed by. Fidds has the car seat and Ford has the nickname.”

              “I don’t know if that’s a bright side,” Fiddleford mumbled.

              “At least we’ve got the car seat stocked with snacks,” Stan said.

              “There’s a TV in this van, too,” Angie said.  “But the only discs we’ve got in here are cartoons and educational science shows.”

              “Probably shouldn’t bother trying to figure it out anyways,” Stan said.  “We’re here.”  He pulled into a driveway.  Ford looked out the window at the house he would be living in for the duration of the mission.  It was Spanish style, with a terra cotta roof and a moderately-sized pear tree in the front yard.

              “Told ya it was nice,” Angie said.  Ford and Fiddleford nodded silently.  “Welcome home, boys.”

[avidfanficwriter]

Barbie (Chapter 8)

Chris Pine X Reader.

Summary: What started as a simple date ended as a failed romance. Or has it truly failed?

Warnings: Cursing, as per use.

Authors note:  Everyone whose been reading this knows of Mr. Beau who has been playing a semi large in Y/N and Chris’ relationship. In All honesty, introducing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had this idea and i couldn’t figure out how to properly execute it. I got a message actually asking what he looked like and i could describe it but i wanted a face claim? So, to google i went and after like six days of random descriptive words placed together, i discovered, Ryan Gosling in ‘The Place Beyond The Pines’ (The Irony) where he played Luke. Haven’t seen the movie? Well… neither have I. But that doesn’t matter, we’re just stealing this character. 

But this is what he looks like as well as whom Mr. Beau is:

And Chris Pine… obviously looks like Chris Pine.

Masterlist

You called out of work the next day, claiming you'd come down with a nasty cold and didn't want others to catch it when in actuality, you were a mess. Physically and mentally. You sata on your couch, dried tears crusted on your face while you scooped Ice cream directly out of the tub into your mouth.

It was not a pretty scene but right now you didn't feel pretty. Now, you felt worthless. Like everyone else in the world got happy endings but you. You screwed up your relationship with Chris by allowing your insecurities and jealousy to get ahead, he left without question and suddenly your alone.

The relationship chewed you up and spit you out.

The television was playing in front of you but you barely paid any attention to it, a woman with a Brooklyn accent and large hooped earrings was shouting about her 'baby daddy' and her new boyfriend. It was ridiculous.

"My boyfriend... he ain't care no more. He be all up in my business thinking I love my baby daddy." She whined, tossing her hands up in the air for no reason.

"Oh, Jesus, woman. Who cares! Just leave him!" You shout at the television in anger. "Poor girl got two boys who don't deserve her meanwhile my boyfriend was off trying to get someone pretty, bustier; taller and probably was better in the sack than me but dear god, your poor little boy and baby daddy trouble are much worse." It sounds like you're drunk or at least hangover which is not the case, surprisingly. You had one drink unfortunately and then you realized your supply of alcohol was out which caused you to change to Ice Cream. Thankfully, you had a carton and half left of chocolate ice cream which was helping to sooth the pain of heart break.

"I don't damn know what is happening, like I go over to my baby daddy's house to drop off my baby then he act like I'm all up on his junk." She continues once again tossing her hands up.

"Poor baby. A boy came onto her but I can't keep one for the life of me. Beau was a junkie, drug selling abusive asshole who went in a out of jail, Chris was beautiful, sweet and everything you could want but once again i screwed it up, like everything else I do."

Your ice cream supply had sadly ran low and you still craved more because rather than subdue to the tears you could eat your feelings. You caved, grabbing your keys and your cell phone, it was blinking alerting that you had a notification.

It had went off during the time you were watching television and hadn't noticed it but the message made those feelings of heartbreak return once again. It was from Chris, his beautiful picture on bright display on your phone:

"Didn't see you today. Left flowers on the table in the room. See you tomorrow? Let me know if you need some soup."

The message was sweet, Chris was always sweet which wasn't shocking but their was a dull sensation of pain left floating in your heart. Instead of continuing on your journey, you tossed your phone onto the couch and walked out of your house, fearing that if you brought it you'd respond and one thing would lead to another then you'd be in Chris' bed right where this mess began. Which was something you desperately needed to avoid.

You excited the apartment heading to the nearest gas station to indulge your need for ice cream. The gas station was within walking distance there wouldn't be a need for a car and thankfully it was a cool night. The air was cold against your skin, giving a gentle breeze that brushed against your hair. It was relaxing, even the sounds of the cars are almost drowned out.

The door to the gas station dings notifying the cashier of your presence and you give him a small smile, heading back to the refrigerators immediately. Their collection of ice cream wasn’t impressive, nothing to extravagant but you didn’t expect to much. They had vanilla and chocolate as well as a few other flavors. You grabbed a tub of vanilla before starting to turn around only to stop and also grab the chocolate. As you took a few steps to head to the cashier you glance down.

“I’m alone at night and buying ice cream, that’s pathetic.”  You think to yourself, stopping in your tracks. “Even it out.” You suggest to yourself and slowly your eyes trail the small aisle ahead of you. “What doesn’t make me look pathetic?” You step forward going down the small aisle, glancing at the pre-made sandwiches considering to purchase one of those. “Yeah, I’m going to drown myself in ice cream and give myself food poisoning, how’s you’re day going sir?” A few steps down and there’s bags of chips. “Chips, I’m restocking a party.” It’s not your best idea but it works. You walk over to the counter, putting the ice cream on it and telling the cashier you’ll be right back. You grab a few bags of chips and walk over to the fridge, grabbing a pack of beer.

The cashier begins ringing up your items and and you watch him, judging yourself for your purchase. “This is going to be over twenty dollars.” Just as the cashier begins scanning your bags of chips, the door dings again. Another customer enters and the smell of their cologne fills your nose.

It makes your go pale, sickly even. The horrid scent of patchouli, far more than necessary like they dumped the entire bottle on their clothes. It’s a trait you hated, you hated the smell and there was only one person who was the cause of that hatred, Beau. The sudden realization sends chills down your back and with a small curiosity you look up at the mirror, the cashiers use for security. You say a silent prayer, hoping it’s not him. You hopes would be shattered when it’s him, standing on the opposite side of you, his eyes on the cases of cigarettes hanging on the wall behind a metal case. You second guess yourself, chopping it down to coincidence that a man who looked to be six foot and had bleach blonde hair was in the station. It’s not uncommon. But as your eyes trail down in the mirror, he’s arms are covered in tattoos and your heart threatens to stop.

The large cross with a tattered blanket hanging off of it and the words: “God Help me.” written in calligraphy on his neck when he turned around and there just under his right eye was the stupid tear drop tattoo, he’d gotten during your time together. There was no denying it now. It was Beau, in the flesh, just fifteen steps away from you. You eyes fall back to the cashier who has finished baggin your items.

“Fifty-five dollars and twenty-two cents, please.” He says, smiling. You don’t even have time to be shocked over the price, you dig your wallet out of your pocket, pulling your credit card and handing to him quickly. “I’m sorry, Ma’am there’s a problem with your card.” he says and you groan.

“Yeah, it does that sometimes.” You whisper. “Just wipe the card on your shirt and try again please? Its frigidity.” Your eyes go back to the mirror and now Beau is turned around, his eyes on the cashier thankfully.

“Still not working.” the cashier says trying his best to be polite in the awkward situation. There’s money on your card, you know that the problem is your card is old and likes to mess up and this was definitely not one of the times you needed it to do so.

“Wipe it again?” You say giving him a small  smile.

“Use mine.” Beau says from behind you in his raspy voice, like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, there were times when his ‘job’ had gotten stressful and he smoked cigarette after cigarette.

“No.” You say, trying to hide your face from him. “No, it’s fine. I have cash.” Before you can even pull your wallet out again, he moves next to you; his body heat radiating onto you. “It’s really…” Your sentence is left unfinished when his hand touches your lower back and he speaks again.

“Come on, Y/N; stop fighting.” Your cover is blown and all your mind can think is: “Retreat! Retreat now!” But now you would definitely need the ice cream and the beer and maybe even the chips. “Toss in a pack of reds, long?” Beau adds, his hand still firmly placed on your back, like he still had the permission to do so.  The cashier takes Beaus card without a second thought, swiping it and smiling at you.

“You’re good to go.” The cashier says, pushing the bags towards you which Beau grabs the bags and the case of beer as you walk out the door, holding it open for him and in the night air, you come face to face with him. His icy blue eyes gazing down at you with a small smile on his face.

“Thank you.” You say, pulling your eyes away from him.

“No problem.” He smiles again. “Glad I was outta cancer sticks.” he says, joking. The same joke you use to tell him whenever he smoked around you. He’s all jokes and smiles, like the last year and a half hadn’t happened, like you two parted on good terms. It’s as if all that time hadn’t passed. You don’t smile or even chuckle at his joke, he notices; his head drops and he puts the bag on the floor. “I like what you did with your hair.” He reaches out with his hand now empty to run through your hair. You applaud him for noticing, you’d grown it out since you’d last seen him.

“Thank you.” You say, pushing his hand away. “May i have my bags?” You ask, reaching out to grab them which he blocks.

“Have I ever let ya’ to carry your own bags?” It’s meant to be sweet but comes out hostile.

“I have to get home, Beau.” You say sternly.

“Me too.” He grins.

“Goodbye, Beau.” You say, walking past him, forgetting completely about the items.

“Yo! Ya don’t want your stuff?” He shouts at you. You can hear his footsteps following you and the plastic bags crinkle with his movements.

“No.” You simply say, crossing the street.

“Y/N.” He says. “Don’t be like this.”

You continue your trek, ignoring him as you walk but he’s still there, the bags crinkling and his shoes smacking into the pavement. He knew where you lived, it was evident from the gifts you’d received from him, even if you did manage to loose him, he could still wind up at your door. Which triggers another thought.

“How do you know where i live?’ You ask, turning around to face him. he stops in his tracks, nearly dropping the case of beer in shock.

“You think i didn’t?” He asks almost as if he’s joking.

“How Beau?” You demand.

“I told ya’ when i left–”

“You didn’t leave, you were arrested.” You correct him.

He scoffs. “When i was arrested, i said I’d be back.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”  

“I always know where ya’ are.” he says and your not even in the slightest happy about the answer.

“Have you been following me?” You ask worried, taking a step back furthering the space between you two.

“No.” Beau says but it’s hard to believe.

“Then how did you know?” You ask.

He gives you a small smile. “Ya’ gon’ let me walk ya’ home?”

You scoff. “God no.”

“Why?” He asks, concerned.

“I’m a big girl, you probably have to go and kill someone.” You say annoyed.

He smirks. “Only you.” It’s another game, that’s what it always was with him. One game after another.

You sigh frustrated, tossing your hand up at him. “What do you want Beau? You paid for my groceries, now can’t you leave me be?” He tosses your bags on the floor with a thud and pulls the cigarette from behind his ear, placing it between his lips and lighting it. He inhales deeply, ash begins to fall to the floor, nearly landing on the bags.

“So hard to believe i want ya.”

“We’re done.”

“Says who?” He smirks. It could be a threat, it could honestly be a threat if it escaped his lips. With Beau, it seemed like every fifth sentence was a threat.

“I have to go.”

“Hot date?” Beau asks, flicking his cigarette into the floor

“Shut up, Beau.” You scoff, annoyed. Once again, you resume walking away but he’s following you, it’s like a bad stuck on repeat. “Why are you still following me?”

“I live this way.” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

You roll your eyes and keep walking, hoping that one of the roads your cross takes him along with it but it doesn’t and the closer you get to your apartment the more you start to panic. You grab the bags from Beau as you approach your building slowing pushing your key into the door, it opens but Beau doesn’t walk away. He stands directly behind you.

“What the hell are you doing?” You shout at him. “I have the police on speed dial”

He chuckles. “Everyone does and I live in here.”

It’s a statement that nearly sends you into a comatose state, You could have fallen down the stairs or jumped of the roof. He doesn’t even indulge your shock, he walks past you his hand purposely running along you back. He’s teasing, trying to get you back to him and it just might be working but not because you want him because you’re in a vulnerable state.

You walk up the stairs, annoyed, hoping that he trips and falls down the stairs which wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him. He could crack a few ribs, break his head open maybe pass on, it was the nicest thing he deserved in his pitiful life.

But instead fear sets in as he steps into the door on your floor and enters the door just next to your apartment.

“See you later, neighbor.” he says smiling.

The bags crash to the floor as you stare dumbfounded at his door, just across from yours. His new home was right there, just in walking distance. Four steps and you would be inside of his place.

Four steps and he would be inside of yours.... It was a horrible thought. Something that made fear coarse through your blood and your body shake, it was a nightmare that had came true. You struggled to shove your key into the keyhole and turn the doorknob quickly making your way to the bathroom where you grew closer to the porcelain toilet. Your hair covered the rim as you lost every once of food you'd had that day.

The last thing you cared about was getting your groceries from the hallway, you didn't care, you couldn't take a step outside or even move from the bathroom. You stayed there all night, leaning against the wall frozen with fear that at any second, you would hear the front door break open and there was Beau forcing his way in.

There's a knock on your door the next morning that awakes you, it's soft and delicate like they're trying to not be intrusive. You struggle to pull yourself up from the floor.

"New decor?" He says with a smile on his face as he glances down at the melted ice cream tub and bags of chips.

"Long story." You say, running your hands through your hair trying to make yourself presentable to face him.

"Brought you some soup and a flower." He says, holding up a brown bag and a sunflower.

You smile at him but just before you can answer, like clockwork, you can hear the click of Beau's door unlock and grab Chris by his shirt roughly pulling him into the room and closing the door quickly behind him.

"Are y--" He starts to say before he takes a step closer and reaches out to touch your face. "What's wrong?" He asks, his hand nervously still touching yours.

"Y--yeah." You say giving him a small smile.

Chris sets the bag and the flower on the counter, he puts his hands back at his side and stares deep into your eyes. "You're not sick."

"Yes... yes, I am." You say, nodding.

"No... but you were crying." Chris continues. "Are you okay?"

“Yes..” You say trying to put on a brave face. 

There’s a knock on the door that steals your attention. It’s small at first, barely even noticeable but the next one was the one that made your blood run cold. The knock is violent, tearing your attention from Chris' to the door. "Fuck..." You whisper, your eyes go wide and your heart rate races.

"Do you want me to go?" Chris asks glancing at the door.

Instinctively you grab his hand pulling him towards you, "No." You whisper.

"What's going on?" He asks, confused.

"Nothing. Just stay..."

"Need to get that?" He asks, following your eyes to the door.

"No." He cocks his head at your response. "Are you sure? I can leave."

"No..."

"Who is it?" He asks curiously, his sweet eyes twinkling.

"It's Beau..." You whisper. Just mere seconds after the dreadful name leaves your lips you see Chris' expression change. His gaze leaves yours and his jaw flexes, he pulls his lip between his teeth and starts to step backwards. He walks towards the door, turning around and lets out a deep breathe.

It's gut wrenching, watching Chris twist the door handle, time starts to move in slow motion. Beau's cologne forces it's way through the small crack, like a snake slithering in. You can mentally see the look on his face, the smug smile with his hands on the door frame trying to inspect the guy who replaced him. This would be where he'd show off his dominance, prove he's the alpha male even that no one would be good enough for 'his' girl.

The door opens and suddenly the air changes, it's hostile and full of anger. The men came face to face with one another for the first time.

It happens in a blink of an eye, so quick that you can barely understand what is happening. Suddenly, Chris lunges out the doorway and his hands grip onto the collar of Beau’s shirt slamming him into the wall. The two men are fighting, battling for dominance leaving you full of shock. 

It’s like a scene out of a movie, where the protagonist and antagonist are finally forced to battle, the difference, at least they had a reason, Chris and Beau did not. 

Their fighting was brutal and suddenly just at the other end of the hall, two police officers burst through the door, their guns drawn, pointing at both Chris and Beau. 

[weetiebel]

GOOD NIGHT CALLS- CHAPTER 8

By @johnlockedslashprincess and @weetiebel

Jon got given a bed to sleep on in the hospital, it was a white pull out one. He had brought his Nintendo DS. Yeah, he was a grown man sat in checkered pajamas next to another man playing on a 3DS, but he didn't care. He wanted to be with Ryan when he woke up. To tell him everything was okay. And while doing this he needed to occupy his thoughts with something, he would go crazy from over thinking otherwise.

Before he fell to sleep that night he held Ryan's hand that was dangling slightly off of the bed and stared. He wasn't lying about being scared, scared Ryan wouldn't wake up, scared that if he did he wouldn't be the same. Maybe he wouldn't remember him at all? He shook his head to make the thoughts disappear, he didn’t need this now, the one and only thing for now was believing. Everything else was something to deal with once the waiting was going to be over.

Jon's phone started to go off, causing him to jump from his compromising position. He turned the sound off quickly from sheer reflex but then remembered it couldn’t wake anyone up.

It was Luke.  He picked up after staring at the screen for a few seconds. Was he ready to talk about it?

“Hey Jon, I just heard about the whole Ohm thing.” There was a long silence. The sound of Luke's heavy breathing on the other end made Jon nervous. “Evan told me you had gone to see him. Is he, ya know, okay?”

Jon paused, trying to calm his breathing, his eyes itching as they held back tears. “No,” was all Jon could manage before he heard the raspy strain in his own voice.

“What can I do to help, Jo? Ohm’s my friend too.”

“Tell the guys, please. Ask them if they can spare anything towards anything.  God, I don't know Luke.” Jon replied frustrated for no reason. Luke was silent down the other end. Thinking.

“I will, Jon. Don't you worry. He'll get better.  It's Ohm.”

“But what if he doesn't? What if he doesn't even remember me and all the shit I've done to him? I want Ryan to be Ryan when he wakes up. I want him to slap me for being a bitch, I want him to kick me for not talking to him till now, I want, I want him to kiss me… I… I want him to kiss me because he likes me. Fuck sakes.” Jon could feel the hot burn of the tears as they rolled down his pale face. God, he wanted Ohm to wake up.

He wasn't religious but he started to mentally prey to all the Gods he could think of that Ryan would be okay.

Luke huffed on the other side of the phone. Jon knew he was desperately trying to find something to make him feel better, but in this very moment there was nothing he could do.

“Do you want me to stay awake with you?”

“Nah, it's okay, just please, ask everyone tomorrow for help.  Okay?”

Luke hummed in response.  

“Call me if you need anything, I'm here.”

“Gotcha, bye.”

Jon sat there for a minute with his phone in his lap, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

He was never going to get to sleep.

Three weeks passed by with no change to Ohm’s health.

Susan and Alex came in everyday after school and work to see him, staying for an hour or so, then leaving again.

“Hey, Jo, do you want anything? Clothes? How about you come back with us for a little bit?” Susan mumbled as she got up to leave. Alex was by her side hugging onto her teddy.

“I can't, say if he wakes up?”

Susan looked down at him with defeat in her eyes. “It's been three weeks, and you look as sick as he does,” she commented, not holding anything back. “Just come, have a shower and a meal and then you can come back. It doesn't matter if you're not here when he wakes up, as long as he wakes up it'll be a glorious moment.”

Jon sighed, coming to join them. She was right, he hadn't had a proper shower, meal and was wearing them same clothing he had come in, which was not even a week's worth of stuff.

Susan wondered over to Ryan, kissed his forehead and letting Alex do the same, barely reaching as she stood on tiptoes. “Bye Ry-ry.  See you later.”

Jon came over to them, he too planting a kiss on Ohm’s forehead. He didn't want to leave him. He held the kiss longer than the others had, bringing his head only slight back to talk.

“I'll see you tonight. Take care.”

They arrived at Susan's small apartment, it was cleaner than he had expected.

“Uncie, come see my room, it's soooo cool!” Alex screamed with excitement, grabbing onto Jon's top.

“Alex-”

“It's okay,” Jon muttered, his voice strained. Susan frown before letting them go, going to the kitchen to cook. He was so relieved that at least Alex kept being herself after the terrible stuff that happened, it was so amazing to see. And he wouldn’t be lying if he said he needed this like he needed to breathe. To do the normal everyday living like everyone else, to let the little one be excited while he and Sue were losing all of their hopes.

Alex opened the door for a small old dog to come bouncing out.

“This is Buddy, he's Uncle’s dog-dog. I get to look after him.”

Jon smiled, coming to cuddle the soft dog in his arms to comfort himself. “Are you taking good care of him?”

“Of course! Right, Buddy?”

Jon began to snicker as Alex put on an accent, agreeing with herself as she pretended to be Buddy.

She grinned at Jon, coming to hug him unexpectedly.

“Uncie will get better, yeah?”

Jon couldn't quite make out if it was a question or a statement but agreed anyway.

“Ryan's strong, he'll be okay.”

Alex nodded in his arms, staying put as she continued to hug him.

There was a silence as she snuggled into him, the long day at her new school starting to catch up with her. It was almost 10pm, so there was no surprise that she was tired.

Jon lifted her up, as well as Buddy who was still squished in between them, popping her onto her little bed and coming to sit next to her.

She already had he pj's on after coming in them to see Ohm.

She lazily grabbed hold of Jon's hand, cuddling against him, despite them both being on her bed.

“When Uncie comes out, do you think you'll get married?”

Jon snorted, surprised by the random question.

“Can I be the person that gives you the ring thing? I saw one when mama’s friend was getting married.”

Jon started to laugh, the small, barely conscious girl next to him ambition made him happy.

“Sure, you can be the ring girl,” he said cautiously without answering question number one.

“I'll be the bestest one ever.” She looked up towards him.

He was wearing a now sad expression as the thoughts of Ohm never waking up haunted him. God, he needed him to wake up so badly. He still didn’t know what would happen if Ryan wouldn’t make it through. It was almost unbearable to deal with these thoughts.

“Here,” Alex mumbled against him, handing her teddy to Jon. “Delly will make you feel better.”

Jon smiled at her, the innocence of her actions and words bringing him almost to tears in his vulnerable state. “Thanks, baby.”

“Your dinner’s ready Jo, sorry it's only leftovers from ours but…”

“That's okay. Thanks.”

He left Alex asleep, snuggled next to Buddy in her bed.

“I'm going to Ryan's to get you some clothes, if you could just keep an eye on Alex.”

“Sure, thanks for all of this, you know.”

“No, thank you.” Susan mumbled, “I don't know what I would do without the money you're giving us and the help and keeping Alex so happy-”

“You think I'm keeping her happy? You should see how happy I am because of her, she gives me hope that he'll...”

“I know.” Susan came over towards him, unexpectedly hugging him. She sighed, holding him tightly.

“Ryan's always been there for me. Always. When our parents split up and we went to live with our dad he was always like the other parent. Dad and him were so similar. The same kindness. The same smartness. Dad would be so proud of him for looking out for me, for everything.”

Jon stood in shock. Susan wasn't one to show emotion, but when she did it was deep.

“Ryan has always been there to protect me, and here's me who can't do a single thing for him. Since our dad passed away-”

“You're dad?”

“Has Ryan never told you anything?”

“No…” Jon sighed, Ryan never told him anything, keeping everything secret.

“Well I guess he never had a reason to. Our mum and dad split up due to mum cheating and going off with another man. Dad looked after us until we all got into a car accident that killed him. I only had physical injuries, luckily, but Ryan was traumatised by the whole experience that he couldn't even sit in a car for ages, and he almost has a panic attack when anything loud bangs.”

“Like thunder?”

Susan nodded in response, pulling away from the hug they were still In.

She sighed heavily, watching Jon's tired expression.

“Anyway.” She grumbled, her hard guard coming back up. “I better get going, else we’ll be here forever. By the times you eat and have a shower I'll be back, I left a clean towel for you.”

“Thanks..”

“No probl-”

“For everything.”

His deep blue eyes looked at her forcefully. She nodded in response and understanding  before leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Susan was right about how long she was going to take. She knocked on the door of the bathroom, being let in by Jon who still stood there in a towel.

“Here, they're Ry-ry’s so they might be a bit big.”

Jon nodded in response, feeling a lot better after his meal and shower. “Thanks, when are we going back?”

“I'll have to pop Alex in the car and you have to get changed, so afterwards?”

Susan didn't seem fazed by Jon as he started to slip his clothing on, towel still hung at his waist.

“I'll get Alex.”

He changed into Ryan’s clothes, his heart aching a bit more with the scent of him all around. He sighed and left.

Delirious felt a ping in his heart when there was no change to Ohm’s condition. He had hoped that he would come back to find Ohm awake and himself and feel the relief of finally seeing him okay. But no, Ohm still laid there, monitors beeping away and a stone expression planted on his face.

“We’ll see you tomorrow.” Susan mumbled, grabbing hold of Jon's arm. “Take good care of my brother.”

He nodded, unable to find strength to do anything else.

Jon sat awake, staring at Ohm’s chest slowly rising and falling. He had got bored of Animal Crossing and Zelda and now sat in silence, watching, as he inhaled the smell of Ohm’s warm clothing that blocked out the smell of the hospital.

He wanted to tell him everything he felt, everything he was thinking. So he decided to write it down, as he knew how shit he was at speaking his mind and feelings.

First, he started like a letter, addressing it to Ryan. This was for him after all.  Then wrote down the situation. How because of his crash he had missed Evan’s wedding and flown across the country to be here, how he didn't have to make that choice between if he was coming and how he was glad he had. He then put about the feelings, like how he felt so stupid for everything, how Luke had told him off, how he wanted him to wake up, be alright, how he has never been so scared in his life for somebody else's future and how he didn't know what he'd do if he was gone.  How Ryan was his scapegoat and how he had used him, how sorry he felt for it, for banging on about Evan when really he felt so strongly for Ryan. How Susan and Alex were the best people in the world and how Alex had said she wanted them to marry.  How Ryan had saved him from being a sad mess by making him so happy and how he hoped he made Ryan happy too.

And how he wanted him to wake up so he could tell him how much he loved him.

He wanted him to wake up so much.

Find the rest of the story on my Tumblr or here on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7530958?view_full_work=true 

[nyx-ships]

Could you do h2brohmtoonz where they're comforting Ohm?

Title: Okay

Pairing: h2obrohmtoonz

Rating: T

Word Count: 2263

A/N: Ayyy, I finally got around to finishing a prompt. I had trouble finishing this guy, lack of inspiration and all, but @xxsilver-wraithxx gave me an idea for the ending of it, so thank you to them, because I probably wouldn’t have finished it today if they weren’t kind enough as to help me out :) Anyways, this one starts off sad, but don’t worry, it gets nice by the ending :3

Enjoy :p

—————————————-

No words were said. No apologies or sentences filled to the brim with pity and worry.

No cute kisses or meaningless well wishes that would only end up on the floor of his home.

That’s not what he needed and they knew it.

No empty sympathy or careful steps to avoid his pain.

No changing the subject of the incident whenever someone would try to bring it up, no stopping him from replaying it.

That’s not what he needed and they knew it.

What he needed was them.

He needed to be held, touched, reminded that he was still alive, physically at least.

He needed to be wrapped in someone’s arms, all of their arms, he needed to be close to a beating heart, somewhere that he could call home.

He didn’t need them to cry with or for him, no, the tears were long gone, and now he was left with only a chest of regrets and a very clear sense of detachment to the world.

He needed them.

He thought on it. On everything that had happened that led up to this point of the three men around him holding his body tightly on the kitchen floor as he shook with yet another terrifying memory of his misfortune.

He decided, as Jonathan rubbed a soft finger across his cold and twitching knuckles, that the funeral was the worst part.

Just seeing him laying there in the casket, face void of any warmth and body stiff with death, it made everything so much worse, so much more real.

It didn’t really make any sense, either, as to why he was so upset and wrecked over the death of his friend, when it was a little known fact that Jonathon had been a lot closer to him than anyone in their group. Best friends, even.

In fact, one might venture to say that him and Ryan were the least close in the group, and that was true. The whole ordeal was orchestrated so Ryan could get to know one of his boyfriend’s best friends better, to become closer in their small friendship.

So, it didn’t make any sense for him to be acting this way, right?

That was a lie, though. It did make sense, considering he was there, he was a part of the accident.

They all told him there was nothing he could do except save himself, but Ryan, no, he refused to believe that.

And maybe that was one of the reasons why he couldn’t stop shaking.

A soft touch of a hand on his cheek brought him out of his dangerous thoughts, forcing him to look at the blonde, blue eyes filled with worry and understanding as he caressed the older’s face.

“How bad is it, Ryan?”

Hazel eyes closed and opened slowly, assessing the mental damage and coming up with a number to represent the attack forcing its way into his system.

“Nine.”

He heard the soft intake of air and the arms around his waist tightened, seemingly trying to get him closer and more firm in the eldest’s grasp.

Luke spoke with the broken man in his hold, head buried in Ryan’s neck and voice coming out careful, hoping to end the attack quickly, not wanting his boyfriend to be in this damaged state for too long.

“Are you here with us, Ry? Is it too much?”

The brunette let go of a shaky breath he didn’t know he had been holding, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and answering without much thought.

“I…I don’t know…”

He could feel them, he could hear them, but he knew he wasn’t completely there, drowning in the throes of the attack and losing himself in the emotional pain clawing its way up his body.

Flash images of Evan’s mangled body and mutilated face drove their way into his brain, threatening his sanity, promising his devastation.

Faint noises could be heard in his mind, the yelling, the screaming, the question that had been spoken to him as Evan’s last moments ticked by and his chocolate eyes begged for release from the pain.

“We’ll be okay, right Ohm?”

“No…”

His weak voice was nothing new, but that didn’t change the fact that it broke all three of his lovers’ hearts each time it came through.

Each time, every time, they were afraid this would be the breaking point, the last time they would see Ryan, his mind muddled and covered, wrapped in steel thorns that they couldn’t seem to break through.

They feared that someday, their soft touches and beating hearts wouldn’t get through, wouldn’t do anything, and their Ryan, their hazel eyed, brown haired, once bright Ryan, would disappear from them forever.

But, they were determined to save him. They couldn’t stand to give up every time his thoughts wandered. They couldn’t just let him fall.

They had always been there to pick him up, and this time would be no different.

Jonathan took the shaking hand in his grasp, squeezing reassuringly, his way of comforting his torn lover.

He had always been the one to really bring Ryan out of his troubled state, only because he harbored the same feelings, the same remorse and guilt.

He had been the one to whisper those words into his ear that always seemed to drag Ryan from the darkness in his mind back to his reality.

And the other two let it happen. Because they knew that no matter how many comforting words or carefully placed touches they gave him, Jonathon would always be the one to heal him, cover his mental wounds with a bandaid.

Temporary, yes, but it got the job done until the next breakdown.

Ryan looked up, eyes slightly glazed over, so he was staring at Jonathan, his haunted pupils telling a story that the raven haired male had heard time and time again, but kept listening to.

He took Ryan’s face in his hands and rubbed at his skin with his thumbs, his own plagued eyes staring straight back into the hazel ones, feeling a hand on his shoulder, one he could easily identify as Luke’s.

He ignored it, focusing on the man in front of him, the one who was going through yet another terrifying bout of anxious shaking.

Jon’s voice was nothing above a whisper, soft and pleading, eyes never breaking contact as he spoke.

“Breathe, Ryan. You gotta breathe.”

For a second, he really thought the older was gone, mind lost within a sea of sadness, body following suit, but that splinter of time passed, and then he could hear the harsh swallow and shaky exhale.

He could see the shift in Ryan’s eyes as he began to take in slow breaths of air, exhaling equally as slow, cloudiness fading slightly, panic slowing momentarily.

Jon smiled weakly, nodding as he felt Ryan’s shaking cease, watching Bryce place a hand on his leg tentatively, as if to make sure the brunette was really there.

Jon nodded, blue eyes silently sharing a look of knowledge with Ryan, the look that told him he felt the same way.

“Kay, good. Now, listen to me, alright?”

Ryan nodded, hand reaching to grasp one of Jon’s arms, the other interlocking with Bryce’s.

Luke was watching, afraid to disrupt Jon’s healing process, opting for sitting away a bit, knowing he could be near Ryan later, after his outburst had passed.

Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat, voice coming out hoarse and shaky, weak and broken.

“I’ll be okay someday, right Jon?”

Jon felt his heart break at that.

Ryan didn’t think he could be helped right now?

He didn’t think he could be okay right here?

But Jon understood, and by the looks he shared with his other two lovers, they understood, too.

So, he just nodded and rubbed Ryan’s cheek, speaking slowly and carefully.

“Maybe not right now, but yeah, course you’ll be ‘kay someday, Ry. I promise.”

He didn’t expect the words to come out of Ryan’s mouth so quickly, so painfully, but they did, and all he could do was stare at his boyfriend for a few moments.

“I keep seeing him, Jon. H-he told me to look after everyone. I…..I think I’m going crazy…”

The way Ryan looked at him, eyes filled with a hopeful plea, practically begging Jon to help him, it tore the smaller man apart.

And when Bryce and Luke heard him, there was a storm in Bryce’s eyes, one that made him squeeze Ryan’s hand a little tighter, made his heart feel a little weaker.

Luke was exchanging a look with Jonathan, his eyes searching for an explanation, some type of reason for Ryan’s words.

Ryan pulled his hands away from his boyfriends, opting for hugging himself and looking down at the floor he was seated on, swallowing harshly and speaking with a low voice.

“I-I’m sorry….”

It was a weak whisper, one that he could just barely force out while he held himself and inhaled shaky breaths.

Jonathan’s hands moved down to his arms, and he leaned down so he could look Ryan in his hazel eyes, which now flickered between his gaze and the floor.

“No….no, don’t be sorry, Ry. It’s alright, it’s normal for things like that t'happen,” he took his chin in his hand and tilted Ryan’s face up to look at him, a small smile on his features, used to try to calm the brunette down, “You’re not crazy, baby, just grieving.”

Jonathan was looking at it in a different light, like he always did. The way he saw it, Ryan wasn’t manifesting some sort of apparition from his mind, no. He liked to think of it as Evan trying to stop Ryan’s constant struggle.

Whether it was his imagination or not, it was very clear that the man in Jon’s grasp needed to start to heal.

He was about to say something, but a voice interrupted him, saying the same thing he was thinking, but better.

“Ryan, Evan’s telling you to stop blaming yourself. And it’s obvious he wants you to take care of us,” A small inhale, lBut that’s okay, I think we should be taking care of you right now.“

Bryce’s voice was soft and reassuring, and as he held Ryan’s hand in his own, rubbing circles on his unusually pale skin, the brunette started to feel a little less panicked, a little less shaky.

When Jonathan cupped his face in his hand, fingers tracing soothing shapes on his cheek, Ryan could feel his dilemma start to fade, his broken heart trying to piece itself back together.

Luke’s hand on his back was helping, his own fingers running along his spine in a way that only comforted him when it was the bearded man’s touch, and Ryan could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders.

Sure, he wasn’t okay in any sense, hell, he was far from it. Mentally damaged to a point that would take a long time to fix.

But, at least he had the three people he loved to hold him together.

He was taking it one step at a time, one small step that the others were willing to wait on.

He knew that, when daylight began to peek through and he had finally risen up off the ground, he would still be down, still broken and torn from the whole situation.

And he knew that, in another day or two, he would yet again find himself on the floor, holding himself and trying to keep his mind from shattering, trying to keep his eyes from wandering.

But, he could only hope that they would be there, that he wouldn’t ever have to go through this pain alone. That they would hold him and comfort him until he could yet again pick himself up from the ground and continue his life.

He was grateful for them.

They put their lives on hold, just so he could put his in motion. Just so he didn’t drown, didn’t disappear in his words or thoughts.

As he reveled in their touches, basked in their warmth, accepted their comfort, he came to the realization that he was going to be alright someday.

He had his best friends, his boyfriends, to keep him sane, to hold him up until he could someday hold himself up, and he was quite alright with that.

At some point in time, throughout his thinking, the other three had brought him into their bedroom and placed him on the bed.

He glanced around, finally noticing the change in scenery, and felt two arms around his body, hugging him against a chest.

He leaned back, laying against Luke, curling up on his chest with a light look on his face. The older accepted him, holding him tightly and threading his fingers through his hair.

He could feel Bryce at his back, his arms wrapping around them, head in the crook of his neck, and Ryan felt his heart flutter, the panic attack slowly but surely forcing itself out of his system, completely gone when Jonathan lie on the other side of Ryan’s body, wrapping an arm around him lazily and planting a small kiss on his forehead, which he gladly accepted.

As he lay there, surrounded by the warmth of his lovers, wrapped in their arms, he knew he would be alright.

His voice was soft, a whisper that could barely be heard, but all three were listening, and it took no time for them to respond in unison.

"I’ll be okay.”

“You’ll be okay.”

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (January 12th. 2017)

Remove all MODS and Custom Content before updating your game!

Update: 01/12/2017 – PC Version 1.26.96.1010 / Mac Version 1.26.96.1210

Hey Simmers and Simmodlers,

What’s New?

Toddlers.

Wait you skipped right to the what’s ne… what the whaaat?! Toddlers? Toddler toddlers… toddlers? Um, did you just say toddlers?

Perhaps. But the long standing ‘no talk’ of toddlers talk may be toddler blocking me. And, as such I can neither confirm nor deny their tiny toddler toddling presence in this release. I can however, say that any resemblance to a toddler in this toddler release is purely todd-idental… ler.

I am also required by the Toddler Coalition for the Betterment and Care of Toddlerhood to provide a few disclaimers:

For you and your toddler’s safety, please keep all toddlers at least 5 feet from all toddler messaging about toddlers.

In case of fire do not break glass, but grab the nearest toddler and exit the building in an orderly fashion.

Also, for a toddler lasting more than 9 days, turn aging on.

Batteries not included, so feed your toddler.

For identification purposes, this is a toddler: o>-<

Once safe, please take a moment to find the toddlers parents if the toddler was not yours.

Not actual size

Well whew! We’ve just had 24 toddlers already born in these release notes (make that 25). I feel there may be more toddlers on the way… so Woohoo*!

*Woohoo will not directly produce a toddler, but provide for the groundwork for a future toddler.

Argh! So… TELL ME ABOUT TODDLERS already!!!

Ok, ok alright. All things Toddlers…

Let’s start with

“How do you get a Toddler”?

Add your toddler in Create a Sim!

You can add them to a new or existing household through Create a Sim. And customize them as you would any other Sim:

Ok, now that the Caregiver bit is over with… let’s get into the other customization options.

Select their voice, gender, and ASSIGN A RELATIONSHIP

Sorry for the caps, but this is kind of important. Toddlers have a special relationship with caregivers.

Mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, or anyone you choose via the in game interaction Adopt as Caregiver (found under the toddlers Help… interaction menu) are caregivers.

Being a Caregiver will ensure that the caregiver Sim cares for the toddler, while other Sims may be less inclined to answer the crying calls of your average toddler.

8 new traits to pick from!

Presets for the various toddler body and head parts to assist in your customization, as well as the same ability to modify the body and face parts that other Sims have.

All the same skin tones as adults (yes, Aliens too!)

Plenty of Styled Looks to choose from.

And of course all the usual stuff…

Angelic, Fussy, Silly, Charmer, Independent, Wild, Clingy, and Inquisitive

Does it make sense that that toddler wears an alien sized diaper?

No, no it doesn’t. But, it’s really cute!

Full body outfits, tops, bottoms, socks, leggings, and shoes.

Glasses, hats, hairs (and hair colors), freckles, and teeth.

Did we talk about the new teeth yet?

Yes, teeth for all ages! Head in to Create a Sim, click on your Sims head, click the Face category, and then Teeth to customize your Sims smile.

I like the braces.

Adopt your toddler!

Choose the Household… Adopt option on the computer, to adopt your very own toddler!

They come fully toddler-ized, ready for your snuggles.

Or, if you want to do things the old fashioned way, age up your baby!

It starts with… look it’s a birds and bees thing. There’s a flower, some pollen, and the bee… um, go ask your mom.

So, now you have a toddler…

How do you care for them?

Bathe, and Bubble Bathe them. Be aware of the possible splash back.

With a Potty Chair they can Go Potty, and Ask for Potty Help… or just use their diaper.

Sleep, Nap, Ask to be Read to Sleep or Tucked in, Sit and Chat all on a Toddler Bed.

Toddlers prefer the high chair where they can Ask for Food or Drink, and of course Eat.

Be hugged, snuggled, talked or played with, or listened to.

And of course, non-toddlers will have to Clean the Potty, and Change the Diaper.

But they may find their food more fun than edible.

And as they do ‘things’ they learn skills like communication, movement, thinking, imagination, and potty.

And their caregivers can be available to mentor and help them along.

But they want to have fun to, right?

Of course, and there are many ways for toddlers to have fun, or… not.

They can cry, laugh, yell, and throw a tantrum. Or babble in the mirror, tell stories, talk about dinosaurs, princesses, superheroes, parties, art, the day, their favorite animals, or just Ask Why… over and over and over.

Or play in things, find out what that is, splash in the toilet (hopefully you are a neat Sim), ask to be picked up, or talk to strangers (stranger danger).

Maybe they want to watch toddler videos, play Simshape or Blicblock Baby, draw with llama on the Wabbit Tablet. Or build a tower, study shapes, or ask others to help them build and study with the Nesting Blocks.

They can hit, hug, or talk to their giant stuffed animals.

Read or ask to be read a toddler book.

Look at flash cards, and learn animals, basic needs, letters, or objects.

Play with the toybox toys, and the dollhouse. Dance and listen to music (including the new Lullaby and Kids radio station).

Just to name a few…

Woah, ok… um, I hate to ask but can toddlers…

No, toddlers do not die. They are fireproof.

No, no... NO! I wasn’t… look, I just wanted to know can toddlers…

Yes, they can climb stairs, run and walk – but you’ll have to improve their movement skill.

Stop that, I just wanted to know can toddlers do anything else?

Yes, toddlers can…

…be your little sister or brother, son or daughter. Try your patience. Be loving but a handful. They can take all your time, or be ignored. They can travel with you, or go to daycare. Or you can stay at home, and hire a nanny. They can provide special moments for you and your Sims. And they can grow and learn, as they age up into children, teens, young adults, adults, and eventually elders. They can’t die, but they can be taken away. And ultimately, they can be part of your Sims family, and your stories.

Anything else?

Yes, in addition to toddlers, and I strongly suggest you pick up a couple of these if you intend to have a toddler, you can find the following items in Build Mode under the Kids Room sort (just click on the 3 blocks in the image):

2 Toddler Beds

3 High Chairs

Wabbit Tablet

Nesting Blocks

Chomper the Devourer toy box

A toddler sized Dollhouse

A Bookshelf and 12 toddler books

2 Potty Chairs

6 new toy box toys (bus, kitty, bear, ducky, butterfly, and Tentacle Tom)

And…

2 Curtains, 5 wall decals, a light for floors and a light for ceilings, a dresser, a rug, a wall shelf, an end table, a wall sculpture, a living chair, 4 decorated toddler doors, AND 7 walls and 2 floors.

That sure is a lot. Did you address any issues?

Just a couple, er some, er what is five in the verbal shorthand? And is couple really short for two? It has three extra letters. I’m so confused…

You can now use the Design Tool on a bassinet containing a baby, because sometimes your baby just doesn’t match your room.

Walls can now be built along all four edges of penthouse lots, rather than just three.

We addressed an issue that could cause the game to freeze while playing the Doctor Career or when hiring a Nanny in some languages.

Confident children will no longer get a whim to practice pick-up lines.

We addressed an issue that could cause doors to be stuck ajar.

And you can’t change the baby. Put down the baby safe paint and brush, and just back away.

*childish moment* Playing doctor, hehe.

Your door is ajar.

No, it’s a door.

And on that toddler’ish joke, that’s the update folks. In the time it took you to read these release notes, the following toddlers came to be in the Sims…

Abigail a toddler, Aidan a toddler, Alex a toddler, Alexander a toddler, Allison a toddler, Alyssa a toddler, Andrew a toddler, Anna a toddler, Anthony a toddler, Archer a hog of war, Ariana a venti-toddler, Ashley a toddler, Austin a toddler, Ava a toddler, Avery a toddler, Benjamin a toddler button, Brandon a toddler, Brayden a toddler, Brianna a toddler, Brian not a toddler because he turned aging off and stayed a baby, Caden a toddler, Caleb a toddler, Cameron a toddler, Chloe a toddler danced the tables, Christian a toddler, Christopher a toddler, Connor a toddler, Cruz a toddler, Daniel a toddler, David vs toddler-iath, Dylan a toddler, Elijah would a toddler?, Elizabeth a toddler, Ella a toddler, Emily a toddler, Emma a toddler, Ethan a toddler, Etta at last a toddler, Evan a toddler, Gabriel a toddler, Gavin a toddler, Grace a toddler, Hailey a toddler, Hannah a toddler and her sisters, Hunter a toddler, India a toddler, Isabella-watcha-doin-toddler, Isabelle a toddler, Jack o’toddler, Jackson a toddler, Jacob a climber, James a toddler, Jasmine a toddler, Jayden a toddler, John a toddler, Jonathan a toddler, Jordan a toddler, Joseph a toddler, Joshua a toddler, Julia a toddler, Kaitlyn a toddler, Katherine a toddler, Kayla a toddler, Kaylee a toddler, Kylie a toddler, Kyra a toddler, Lauren a toddler, Lily a toddler, Logan a toddler also known as James, Lucas a toddler, Luke – use the toddler, Mackenzie a toddler, Madeline a toddler made with flour, eggs, lemon, sugar, and vanilla, Madison a toddler and an avenue in a popular board game, Makayla a toddler, Mason a free-toddler, Matthew a toddler, Maya a toddler, Megan a toddler, Mia a toddler, Michael a toddler, Morgan a toddler, Natalie a toddler, Nathan an uncharted toddler, Nicolas a toddler, Noah a toddler on an ark, Olivia a toddler-newton-john, Owen a toddler, Plum a toddler, Rachel we miss you a toddler, Riley a toddler, Rosemary’s toddler, Ryan a toddler, Samantha b toddler, Samuel a toddler on snakes, Sarah a toddler, Savanna a plain toddler, Sean a toddler, Sophia a toddler, Sydney a toddler-mate, Taylor a toddler, Thomas a toddler, TK-421 a trooper, Toddler a toddler, Tyler a toddler, William a tell-toddler, Zachary a toddler, and Zoe a toddler.

We look forward to your stories, and we wonder who your toddler will be?

-SimGuruGnome’dler

[allofusandco]

The way we were

with [url redacted]

AU take on S02E01.

Ryan:

Probably not the most auspicious start to the school year, being dropped off the back of a truck by the Cohen’s builder, but it was going to be a non-event compared to the fact that Ryan had gotten a girl pregnant at sixteen and Seth had run off to live with Luke in Portland with Luke and his dad.

Now would be a good time to start flying under the radar again. But Ryan hadn’t had time for the summer reading everyone else was going to have done, hadn’t really planned to be back at all; and looking at all the people staring at them both… yeah, felt a lot like last year had, actually. Maybe he needed to find out who the new water polo captain was and pick a fight with him.

Ryan almost never felt the need to say something to break the silence, but he did.

“Like we never left,” he said. There was a dull, distant feeling of disappointment. He’d thought maybe this time things would be different. He hitched his backpack over his shoulder. This would at least beat construction. He felt clean for the first time in months. Didn’t want to say he’d dodged a bullet, but…

He’d dodged a bullet.

–––––

Seth:

Normally, Seth would have found himself with the inability to stop talking. But this time… This time he was standing back in front of his school, his best friend at his side, the girl he’d fallen in love with was now dating someone else. And he, for once, had absolutely nothing to say.

That would change, he knew. It always did. Seth Cohen never managed to be speechless for long. But what was there to say about where he and Ryan had landed themselves since returning home after their summers away. The irony rested in that Ryan was right. This felt exactly like their first day of school the year before. But so much had changed since that day. Hadn’t it?

“You know, maybe it’ll be different this year. We’re both single; we managed to get away from this town for the summer. We’ve spread our wings, Ryan. And we’ve come back men.” With pursed lips and a curt nod, he let his skateboard fall to the sidewalk and stepped on it, giving a singular push with his right foot. “This year’s going to be different, Ryan. I’m certain of it. I’m going to get Summer back. You… Well, we’ll find you someone.

“I’m sure of it.”

–––––

Ryan:

“Already sounds like same as last year,” Ryan grumbled. Summer. Whoever the new guy was, he hoped she couldn’t be pried from his side. “No girl drama for me. We will not find me anyone. Don’t even start on that. And what are you talking about, we were already men.” Maybe he’d been too quiet for too long, no room for him in a house full of Theresa and a mistake they’d made together, and sixteen years of Chino pushing in against him, taking everything else away, a week at a time.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and dragged himself in the direction of the administration block. More classes he felt woefully unprepared for, a guidance officer who was sharpening her nails and getting ready to ask him what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

“I just wanna get good grades. No one in my family ever graduated high school, and I could maybe get into community college.” Look at that. A speech, a two-parter. He had half an eye peeled for Marissa. “No girl drama. You, too. Summer makes a mess of your head – maybe you could try being friends with her. You know – it’s like what you’re doing except without makin’ an ass of yourself.”

–––––

Seth:

“Wha– Ryan. Come on. This is going to be completelydifferent. You… I mean. You maybe have a kid. Or did she tell you that he wasn’t yours? I have trouble keeping that straight.” Perhaps it would help if Seth decided to stop thinking about ways to sabotage Summer’s new relationship with whatever his name was… All Seth knew from the fifteen minutes he’d spent awkwardly standing in front of them on the pier two days ago, was that she called him Duckie, and that he was bigger, perhaps more typical for the type of guy Summer went for.

To put it simply, he wasn’t Seth, in any sense. And all of this boiled down to Seth debating internally whether or not this was a positive or negative. Was she so desperate to find something new, something to counter the feelings she still had that she went for someone who more closely resembled Luke than himself? Or, had he messed up to the point that she couldn’t stand to be around anything that reminded her of him on account that it might trigger her rage blackouts.

The simple mention of her name brought Seth’s attention screaming back to the surface and he looked at Ryan, trying to piece together words he had already said with what he was still communicating. “I can’t be friends with her. Not when all I think about is how…” He cut himself off, chin lifting when he thought he’d caught sight of her.

False alarm.

“Maybe you’re right, though. Maybe we should try a semester without women. Just you and I against…” Seth’s words cut off as he was taking over Ryan, and he actually managed to hear the last little bit. “Ryan. I am offended. You always led me to believe that making an ass of myself was part of my charm.”

–––––

Ryan:

Seth was unbelievable. Ryan frowned, stopping dead in his tracks.

“She lost the baby,” he said, shaking his head. “Remember? I got off the phone, I said she lost the baby, we came home?”

He pulled his hand from his pocket and punched Seth’s arm. Shouldn’t have been hard enough to hurt, but he was Seth, so… but a little negative reinforcement always worked on dogs, maybe it would eventually get through to Seth as well.

Ryan could actually hear Seth thinking about Summer and the new guy. He shook his head. Give him a day and a half and he’d be matchmaking Ryan and Marissa and it was going to take more than a punch in the arm to get him off that.

But no. Ryan wasn’t doing it. Too much water under the bridge; messy, painful water. Shoplifting and binge drinking and endless drama that had, at times, made him thinking he might be better off in Chino, or juvie. But a girl like Marissa never stayed single for long. All he had to do was dodge the kick-off carnival (in case of romantic opportunities) and Julie Cooper (no real reason; he just wanted to stay clear) and he’d be fine.

“A semester without women,” Ryan agreed, with his mouth curling into what fell short of a smile. “Start small, Seth. Prove you can do a week without women. If you can’t be friends with Summer, stay away from her.”

He checked his watch. “I’m due with the guidance officer in five minutes. Hey, aim lower. Make it until lunch with no lady drama. I dare you.”

–––––

Seth:

“Right…” Shit. Seth had tried to make it a joke, albeit a weak one, to make light of a dark situation. He had hoped that Ryan was over the whole loss of the baby thing. They were teenagers and it wasn’t as if Ryan had really been in love with Theresa.

With the punch, Seth lifted a hand to cover the place on his arm where he’d been punched. It smarted a little, and Seth was thankful that Ryan had had enough self-restraint to keep it from hurting too much. “Sorry. That was a… That was indelicate, I guess. It was too soon.” While they both stood there, staring at the school, he listened to Ryan’s steady, brooding determination. He was always filled with good intentions, and Seth never really understood why Ryan didn’t just face the inevitable. They’d never go a full week without girls. But it was important to at least claim they were going to try. But Ryan… he believed the words. He believed he’d make it.

“Hey, Ryan, I’m totally over Summer. I don’t want to be with her. I want to… start a comic…” Sure, the idea had always been on his mind, but Seth had never fully decided to try the thing until now – when it was vital that he convince Ryan that he wasn’t going back after the girl for whom he’d once named his boat. I’ll keep clear of her. You keep clear of Marissa. Everything’ll be fine.”

Surely Ryan didn’t believe they’d make it. He had to give in eventually to the inevitable. But in the meantime, Seth could play his game.

“Fine. No lady drama. You go see your guidance officer. I’m going to go get my schedule. My books. See what summer reading we both missed out on because I was sailing and you were…” preparing to be a father, “Away in Chino. I’ll meet you back inside for lunch in… a few hours?”

–––––

Ryan:

With his hand almost on the door, Ryan turned around again. He knew Seth drew, knew he had real talent. A comic book?

That should keep him thoroughly distracted. And for the moment, he looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, whatever the fuck that was even supposed to mean. He looked at Ryan like he was at least determined to try. Not bad.

He was never going to look at Ryan the way he looked at Summer, but that whole thing was stupid, and he needed to not let himself think about it. By the end of the week his entire life was going to be Summer this and Summer that. But. A comic book.

He gave Seth a lopsided smile. “Alright,” he said. “A comic book. I’ll see you for lunch.”

––

By the time lunch came around, Ryan felt like the last twelve months hadn’t even happened. He boked miserably at a burrito, and looked over the list of summer reading that he hadn’t done, his assignment from the very well-meaning guidance counsellor, and wondered how long it would take for Marissa to have a disaster that would send him running to her Barbie house with a fire extinguisher and something for her to throw up in.

He felt Seth sit, rather than saw him, and glanced up.

“Guidance counsellor seems to think I should be able to figure out what I wanna do with the rest of my life tonight,” he said. “I’m torn. What do you think? Bartender, or stick with construction?” College seemed like a ridiculous dream. Ryan folded the stack of paper and picked up the burrito again. “You get your timetable? She says I can’t finish mine until I do this assignment. I’m supposed to go to all my current classes and figure out what I like about them and what I don’t.”

The page of his composition book, where he was supposed to make notes about it? Blank.

It shouldn’t have been a difficult thing to do, but it was. He’d barely gotten used to the idea that he could make choices when Theresa, and the baby, had taken it all away. Ryan hated the idea that there was something fragile about that sense of himself, but that was just how it was. He wondered if feeling like the carpet might be pulled out from underneath him anytime was ever going to go away.

“So tell me about your comic book.”

–––––

Seth:

“Oh come on, Ryan. You gotta dream bigger than that,” Seth said as he all but collapsed in the seat next to Ryan, the bag with his books weighing at least ten pounds more than the year before. The tray that his lunch was on clattered against the table and he barely registered what the rest of the low, familiar voice beside him was talking about. “So wait. I’m assuming you told her your story? Did you include this summer as well? It just seems bizarro that she is pushing you this hard to made a decision about the rest of your life when you clearly just got out of a situation that was, in itself, majorly life changing. Or could have been, if things had turned out different.”

For a school that allowed off-campus lunches, the food provided in the lounge really wasn’t bad. The coffee cart was always fresh. The sandwiches always hot. It was like they had their own personal Starbucks, only better, and cheaper. Seth pulled the paper bag away from his chicken and artichoke panini taking a bite and then immediately regretting not letting it cool more first. He breathed through a partially gaping mouth, the bite loose on his tongue, trying to let it cool before proceeding. “Goddamn. I’m not going to be able to taste the rest of this sandwich. But at least I know it’s good from experience, right?”

Seth’s mood was a strange combination of being cautious with Ryan, and wanting to strip away the bandaid and just find their normal level of friendship again. The universe, it seemed, would always be out to get them. There was nothing they could really do to fight it. But at least they had each other – as a quasi best friend, brother, ??? something deeper? – when it seemed they had nobody else.

“The comic book? It was… I mean I’ve been toying around with the idea all summer. Thinking about what I would do, what storyline I could pursue.” Seth shrugged and pulled a sketchbook from his bag and turned about halfway in. On the page were sketches of Captain Oats, himself, even tiny rough drafts of Luke’s face. Nothing was very well polished or done with the proper utensil to make it comic book ready, but it was a start.

If Ryan kept flipping, he would have found one page with both Summer and Marissa sharing, both dressed in costumes that he was sure they would only really ever be caught wearing in the pages of one of his sketchbooks. Well, this was true for Marissa, anyway.

Then there was a page for him, with a collection of ideas listed underneath.

And even further back was Ryan. But for him it wasn’t just a single page of his face beside a panned out shot of his full outfit. But there were close up sketches of his eyes – Seth had been trying so hard to get them just right. There were sketches of the expanse of his shoulders and how the wife-beater fell just so. And of all of the sketches Ryan mightfind if he kept flipping, those of himself were the most finished, the most polished.

The most worked on.

“Anyway. The story. I was thinking, what if instead of a bunch of teenagers in Orange County, we’re teen superheroes in Atomic County.”

–––––

Ryan:

“I didn’t have to tell her much,” he grumbled, his stomach sinking again at the thought of the decisions he was going to have to make in the next two years. But, a dark voice in his head supplied, at least you’ve got choices again.

Ryan pushed his plate aside, with its half-eaten burrito, and took a sip of soda before taking the sketchbook.

“Teen superheroes?” He grinned in spite of himself, and shook his head. “Alright. Hey, Captain Oats looks good. Did he spend the summer working out? Nice muscle tone. Never seen a superhero with a horse before.”

The drawings were good. These couldn’t be first drafts, though they were still rough pencil sketches. It made Ryan itch to look at the pages before this, but he didn’t. The Ironist – Seth – was a good likeness, big warm eyes and those almost cat-like cheekbones. Stronger jaw than you noticed on first glance.

“Is irony a superpower, though?”

He wished he could decipher the look on Seth’s face. His mind was doing that thing it did, operating a million times faster than anyone else’s, too fast for Ryan, who seemed to hit a wall when he was overloaded. And quite possibly punch someone.

Ryan laughed as he turned the page. Summer, comically exaggerated, though it would definitely draw a crowd. And Marissa, too. Ryan shook his head, and grinned at Ryan.

“Credit cards as weapons. I like it.” Marissa’s credit cards were a thing of the past, of course, but at least she looked good. “So who are the bad guys – the water polo team, or the Newpsies? Maybe both?”

He turned the page again. He’d guessed at what would be coming; after all, Seth was hardly going to leave him out of a comic book that featured Summer and Marissa. Best friends, and all. But it was still startling to see himself rendered that way. He was never going to have the muscle mass of Arnold Schwarzenegger, but then, he didn’t really want to. Still funny, though. He leaned in.

“Fists of fury,” he read, off the page. They looked cool. This Ryan was badass. This was not the Ryan who had never won a fight until he moved to Newport. Probably never lost a fight to one of his mother’s boyfriends, either.

He was about to hand it back when he turned the page again, and his mouth went dry.

Close-ups of his face. There was no mistaking him for anyone else. If nothing else, Kid Chino looked like he didn’t have a clue how he was supposed to feel about anything, and that summarized Ryan to a T. He turned the page again. His eyes – Ryan didn’t have to look in a mirror to know they were frighteningly accurate – seemed to be looking somewhere in the middle distance, like he was thinking instead of really looking at something. And sort of sad.

He turned the page again. There had to be more Summer in here. More Marissa, more Seth. Ryan opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, his brain doing the thing where it shut down instead of processing something. Just more Ryan.

“They’re good,” he managed to choke out, turning the page again.

Evidently, Seth hadn’t spent the entire summer thinking about Summer. Ryan scratched the back of his neck, fingers itching to turn the page again. Fuck, he didn’t even want to give the book back. But he closed it, awkwardly, like his wrists wouldn’t bend properly.

He met Seth’s eyes again. Fuck this summer; how long was it going to mess with his head? He missed the days the summer before, just him and Seth and nothing messing things up.

“You should do it. If you want, we can do the thing tonight where you talk a lot and I grunt when I like something. You know, if you need ideas.”

~cancelled verse~