#but I went with what seemed like the simplest for ease of reference

[interlockingpatches]

Im gonna ramble in your inbox for a bit lmao, I have a few ideas!

What about music themed?? Like music notes, treble clef, etc (idk a lot about musical notation honestly but ik theres a lot of symbols). My next thought was instruments but usually those are super detailed, like string and brass? A Harp?? The simplest i can think is like, some piano keys would make a cute design, or maybe just the headstock of a guitar! God, brass instruments would be so intense to make, i just looked at a saxaphone and I'm freaking out thinking of the detail and how impressive that would be. Or maybe physical media like a vinyl record or a little cassette tape? A little boombox, record player, or radio?

Going off of that, I think people really like decade themed/nostalgic stuff. I love 70s things personally so i may just be projecting, but i think 80s and 90s vibes are super popular! You could look at toys, technology, icons, and popular colors of an era, things like that and that might be inspiring!

Also thinking about summer themed designs since summer is coming up! Seasonal stuff is so cute and I notice people are always looking for little seasonal projects! Surfboards, beach umbrella, a fruity lil drink, are things that come to mind for me!

The more i write the more ideas i think of but this ask is already huge lmaooo so ill leave with these and hopefully its not overwhelming

First of all I will not be out-rambled in my own house lets gooo

These are all so good and sensible and fun! Thank you so much! I spent a day and a half sketching out just some of them (and going off an a few tangents), and there are a few already that I can't wait to actually pattern up and make <3

Musical instruments and notation are both perfect and super hard for the format. They're so detailed, like you said, and their design is so specific; it's hard to know what can be fudged or elided without getting the whole thing irredeemably wrong. (I've had the same problem with birds and arthropods). Like, how many of the saxophone's fourteen-hundred eldritch appendages *do* I need to show? I could include them all, and the motif would be the size of a bedspread and take a month and a half to crochet, and I perversely want to do that now so thanks also for that.

Even in that keyboard motif (which, you'll have to trust me, is a very good likeness of Casio keyboard whose demo song was the soundtrack to my early childhood) is already over twice width of my largest typical designs, and it would have to be twice as big still for me to space the keys accurately.

Decades are a great organizing conceit! They lend themselves to a kind of idiosyncratic hodgepodge that really appeals to me, and "random collection of old things that you remember" is a trope people don't seem to ever get sick of—and new things are getting old every day. They're also a way to ease into pop culture references, which I haven't really done, and which might offset some of my Debbie-Downer tendencies (when you suggested "70s things" my actual first thought was "what do quaaludes even look like?" My first idea for the 80s was "Margaret Thatcher demolishing a council house," and my thought process for the 90s went "Monica Lewinsky's dress, OJ Simpson's gloves, Tonya Harding's crowbar… NAFTA?" Terrible patches, all. What people want as a little picture of a sofa at a jaunty angle with a caption that says "PIVOT!").

Anyway. I'm especially excited to try the disco ball, the record and the off-brand Tamagotchi (I preferred Gigapets, personally). Those all have double-length diagonals that I've freehanded a few times and know to work at least okay, but which I haven't figured out how to notate. Oh! and I haven't got a beach umbrella that I like just yet, but the hurricane cocktail seems like a good way to kick off a summer collection—as long as I don't follow it up with, like a graph of yearly average temperatures, which is something I would absolutely do.

[tachiisms]

I found this ‘mathfix’ timeline in my file of Siri documents, and realized that while I’d initially written it (with much help and input from Din/@bellassan) for my own reference, it’s hard to reference if I’m not on my laptop, and also unhelpful for anyone else looking for timeline reference points. So I’m posting it. I’ve kept Ferus’s ages in here mostly because that’s how the document was originally written while talking with Din, but as per always, Din, not me, is the expert on Ferus and so if any of the references to Ferus have changed since the initial writing of this (which was four years ago by now) then please do, of course, take Din’s word over mine. I’ve also added in some reference points to some JA/JQ books just to give an easier and more comprehensive timeline to reference. 

It’s a mathfix, too, because as much as we love and respect Jude Watson, she wasn’t super great at keeping date details consistent (example: Secrets of the Jedi says ‘20 years later’ between the first and second half, but actually looking at the age markers, it’s only 17 years later; Ferus’s age mentioned in the last JQ book is then contradicted by him saying in LOTJ how old he was when he resigned, etc). Honestly we can’t blame her, given how many of these books she was churning out at an impressive speed for Lucasfilms, and is it even Star Wars if the math timeline isn’t wonky, but here we are. 

SO here’s a timeline of notable events in Siri’s life. I’ve included both the BBY date as well as her age, for ease of reference. 

55 BBY -- Siri is born, and given to the Jedi within the first year of her life [x] (*in modern verses, born May 22 [x]) -sometime between 55 BBY and 46 BBY, Siri is moved two years ahead in lightsaber classes- 44 BBY -- 11 years old. Events of JA: The Captive Temple.                                         Siri is chosen by Adi Gallia as her Padawan.                                         Events of JA: The Fight for the Truth.                                        (Note: while these all happen within the same year,                                          they happen several months apart.) 43 BBY -- 12 years old. Events of JA: The Dangerous Rescue. 39 BBY -- 16 years old. Events of  the first half of Secrets of the Jedi. 32 BBY -- 23 years old. Events of the Phantom Menace.                                        Beginning of undercover mission as Zora.  30 BBY -- 25 years old. Events of JQ: Path to Truth.                                       Conclusion of undercover mission and subsequent knighting.                                         Siri chooses Ferus Olin (12) as her Padawan [x] -some time between 30 BBY and 25 BBY, Siri attains the rank of Master [x]- -all JQ books take place between 30 BBY and 25 BBY. I may or may not go through more specifically and add in tentative dates; the time frame generally is what’s important here- 25 BBY -- 30 years old. Events of JQ: The Final Showdown, and subsequent resignation of Ferus (who is 18). 22 BBY -- 33 years old. Start of the Clone Wars with the Battle of Geonosis.                                       Events of the second half of Secrets of the Jedi;                                       Battle on Azure, and death. 

              (for reference in AUs)               19 BBY -- 35 years old. Order 66               18 BBY -- 36 years old. Events of the Last of the Jedi series.

[dresshistorynerd]

Hi! Firstly I love your blog and all your research posts, I find them such good overviews on dress history topics I'm not familiar with. I was wondering if you had any information on lacing throughout history? Like when it was used on different kinds of clothing (not just corsets and similar) and what style of lacing would have been used. I know this is very specific so understandable if it can't be done. Thank you!

Thank you so much!! It really makes me happy to hear that people get use and enjoyment from my history ramblings! :D

This is an interesting question and it relates very closely with the history of supportive undergarments (which I am working a post about, but I'm still in research phase so it will be a while). I won't guarantee this will be exhaustive answer, there's probably some types of garments I don't know use lacing and some I miss and remember next week at the middle of the night. I'm focusing on women's clothing to narrow down the massive topic, but to be clear men's fashion utilized lacing too to create fashionable figures, including in men's corsetry. A fair warning, this post kinda blew out of proportion.

Lacing in Western Fashion History

So lacing is a closure method and pretty interesting one, because it has room for adjustments. If we think of other closure methods like buttons, zippers etc, you can't adjust them on the go. The obvious benefit is the ability loosen or tighten it with the changing body thorough day and between them and also fit it much more easily to another body. The other and perhaps much more significant benefit is that it can be used to tighten the bodice of a garment to be supportive for the bust, which has been it's primary usage across western fashion history.

Here's my little sketch about the most common historical lacing methods.

A - spiral lacing with symmetrical eyelets B - spiral lacing with asymmetrical eyelets C - ladder lacing D - standard lacing E - cross lacing.

There's some drawbacks to it too, since it's also slower than any other closure method. Spiral lacing though is the most simplest and quickest one, which is perhaps why it was so much used thorough history.

Bliaut

Before Middle Ages and mostly thorough early parts of it, a lot of closure methods weren't popularized around Europe. Pins and brooches were the go to method and they had pretty limited use. Tailoring hadn't been developed either so clothes were made of simple cuts and were loose so they would be able to get on and off.

A side note: There were some examples of fitted garments in ancient times but I don't know enough about them or how they were fitted.

Bliaut was a tunic type overdress used by all genders in the French influence area in early Middle Ages, from around 11th to 13th century, when it fell out of fashion. In 12th century for women it became the quintessential "medieval dress" with fitted bodice, often wide long sleeves and a girdle at waist. To be clear the bodice seemed to have been also fitted for men.

There's not really a lot of info on how exactly it was constructed and there has been a lot of debate around it, but it was fitted with lacing on the side. One of the most famous example depicting the 12th century bliaut is a statue in a wall of Angers Cathedral from circa 1200. It's very detailed example showing the lacing.

Tailoring still hadn't been developed yet, and it's theorized the bodice was rectangular, which is why the result wasn't smoothly fitted bodice but very wrinkled one. It's a little hard to make out, but it seems they used spiral lacing with symmetrical eyelets.

Soon after though bliaut went out of fashion in France influenced area and was replaced with much more loose styles till the 14th century.

Kirtle

Kirtle has many names, including cotte and cotehardie, which are sometimes used interchangeably, sometimes to refer to specific areas or periods, but I'll use only kirtle for ease. It also started as a loose garment for all genders. In 14th century tailoring was popularized and lacing made a comeback and so during the century kirtle became a formfitting supportive garment. Sometimes kirtle was closed with buttons, but that seems to be more popular for men's kirtles. Lacing or buttons were also used in sleeves to make them very form fitting too.

Here's an Italian painting from 1385-90. This style of kirtle with smooth front seemed to be popular around western Europe at the time. They either had lacing on side or back. I haven't seen a lot of paintings from the time where the lacing is shown, but it's probable they are using at least a lot of spiral lacing. Kirtle is also starting to become more of an undergarment as houppelande becomes fashionable as an overgarment at the end of the century.

15th century popular painting style is becoming more detailed, which is nice because they'll show the lacing. Front lacing in kirtle is popular, but you also see a lot of side lacing. Spiral lacing is still probably the most common style of lacing in paintings, but there's also cross lacing and ladder lacing, as in the painting below, which is from 1475-80.

At the time (and sometimes already in 14th century) lacing was also used to add detachable sleeves. It made it probably easier to use the kirtle as an undergarment too. In late 15th century Italy (and to some extent German speaking area too) they took this idea to it's logical endpoint and made elaborate sleeves with tons of lacing and the shift bulging under it. The below example is a detail from 1493-96 painting.

Bathhouse dress

Aside from kirtle there was another laced garment, often called the bathhouse dress. The example below is from 1389, but they appeared in art as late as 16th century. They are depicted pretty much exclusively in bathhouse context, so it's possible it was a garment solely for bathhouse use. They are seen specifically in Central European art and most famously in Bohemian art, but also Austrian and High German. I have seen suggestions too that it was used as supportive shift too, and it's possible it was a supportive garment specific to that area. There were many different cuts of this type of dress, but the lacing seems to be either at the frond or the side.

Boned bodices and pair of bodies

In earlier centuries kirtle was sometimes interlined with heavier fabric, but in 16th century it became very structured. They used heavy stiffened fabrics and increasingly towards the end of the century a lot of boning too. Pair of bodies as a separate garment from a supportive bodice was also born.

During Renaissance the variety of styles of clothing gets really out of hand. Kirtle would stay in working class use as far as 17th century, but upper classes transition towards more elaborate dresses that are far removed from the kirtle. During the latter half of 17th century working class would start to use separate pair of bodies and petticoats, before bodies would transition into stays around 1680s. Here's an example of a boned working class kirtle from 1626 with lacing on back side.

Every gown would utilize lacing, but often it wouldn't be seen in fashionable clothing. It could be very subtly done or hidden with a stomacher. Stomachers became increasingly popular towards the end of the century. There was still some places where visible lacing was fashionable for upper classes too like Italy (Venice specifically), Germany and Low Countries. And absolutely all kinds of lacing was used.

In Venice particularly there was a very specific style of boned bodices with ladder lacing on the front like in this example from mid 16th century.

In the German speaking area, there was a very much not boned style where a very open bodice was laced in the front most often with spiral lacing, but I've seen examples of ladder lacing too. The example is from circa 1535.

When Baroque hits through in 17th century, fashion becomes more universal and less all over the place like it was in the previous century, but the fundamentals stay the same. Pair of bodies or heavily boned bodices were used and the closure method for these was very much still lacing. For pair of bodies, which could be used as outergarments outside of the formal occasions of upper class, it was usually on display, for bodices the lacing was usually hidden in the back, like in this example from 1660s. Sleeves could be often attached to bodies with lacing when used as outer garments.

The image limit is again the bane of my existence, so I'll continue in a reblog.

[siwoline]

“can we stay like this forever?” — [sjy.]

♫ : spaces by martti franca

word count: 1,901  |  angst, masochist

<masterlist> <prev> <next>

some, if not everyone, surely had a tower moment. a phase when everything seems to go downfall and you had no other choice but to surrender to wherever the universe takes you. some faced everything alone and some found a companion.

in your case, you had jake.

you met each other through a common friend back in high school. it was just a “hey, this is y/n. y/n, this is jake.” type of introduction and you just both went on with your lives separately, not minding each other’s business because you clearly had nothing to do with it. you weren’t interested with him and, on your point of view, he wasn’t too.

but suddenly, you passed by each other’s lives again, when he saw you sitting like a drunk single aunt by the gutter of an abandoned gas station. it was because you told your friends you’ll walk your way home even though your vision was spinning and your head hurt like hell.

you remember, “y/n?” jake mispronounced your name when he saw you then.

and you corrected him even though you’re drunk by saying, “it’s y/n! you stupid!”

“i’m sorry, y/n. do you need something?”

obviously! is this man really stupid? were your thoughts. you were looking at him meaningfully, trying to tell him that he’s unbelievable but he seems to not care about your stares. he just reached for your arms and guided you to wrap them around his broad shoulders.

this man’s caring. what the hell.

as much as you wanted to throw your shoes at jake that time, you just didn’t have the energy to fight and perhaps you wanted to thank him for somehow taking care of you even though you barely know each other.

after that night, you were informed that, apparently, jake studies in the same university and he lives near your pad. and according to your common friend, it’s just a 10-minute ride from yours.

your encounter with him did not stop there because you saw each other again on a party hosted by your friend. the moment you laid eyes at each other, he recognized you right away and walked towards you leaving a girl who’s clearly hitting on him that time.

that night, you two shared stories and even danced with some acquaintances, completely unaware that it was the start of something you didn’t anticipate.

“who’s this?” you said when you picked up the call of someone who’s bugging you at three in the morning, the day after your friend’s party.

that’s when you heard jake mumbling words you cannot decipher because first, it was, again, three in the morning, and second, he was a drunk zombie.

“where are you?” you asked him repetitively and still trying to respond to what he was saying until the bartender took over the phone and told you where he is.

you went to the bar to fetch him. jake looked so wrecked and tired from the world, he’s a complete mess when you saw him lying on the bar’s couch. when you went to him and woke him up, he looked at you and there you saw his stares. his intense eyes looked like he wanted someone to save him or just someone who’s willing to hear his stories.

and so you did.

it was almost everyday, at three in the morning, when you go out to see each other at the gas station where you first met as acquaintances. you’d bring snacks from your stock and he’d bring drinks bought from the convenience store he’ll pass by on his way to you.

you’d talk about everyday, how things went wrong and how things are going. you’d tell him that the only constant thing in the world is life fucking you up and his boisterous laugh would disturb anyone and anything near. he’d tell you how pretty the night sky is and how badly he wanted to travel just to see its end and you’d agree and tell jake you’ll go with him.

no one knew of the times you’re together, not even the friend who introduced you to each other. it was just a moment between you two, and you hate to admit but there are times that by thinking of it, the thought of seeing jake, made you feel things.

and god, as well as jake, knows how badly you hate feeling tickling emotions, those of the positive kind, because you know that there’s definitely an aftermath.

“how’s your brother?” he randomly asked when you were just talking about an online post you shared with each other through chat.

“he’s doing well. you want to see him next weekend?” then he nodded as a response.

it was not just you who grew fond of jake, some of your family members, only those whom he met, did as well. especially your little brother. they’d play games when you and jake would come over to your grandfather’s house where your brother temporarily lives. they would also talk about boy stuff, completely excluding you from the conversation, and you can see the both of them enjoying their time.

and, annoyingly, again, this made you feel more at ease with jake.

“do you still drink?” you asked meaninglessly.

“not anymore,” he shrugged, as if saying he doesn’t know why.

“as i am,” that’s when he looked at you, confused. “i don’t know. maybe i’m healed,” and you laughed with the absurdity of the thought.

but jake smiled with what you said, “that can be true.”

“what about you? you’re finally moved on from the woman you cried for when i first fetched you at the bar?”

he turned his head away, obviously feeling shy. “that was more than a year ago, y/n.” his lips are forming a pout. “plus, i’m being comforted in a much healthier way.”

you were shocked by his response. “you’re seeing someone again?”

he shook his head and said, “i just found comfort in someone’s presence.”

“isn’t that the same?”

he looked at you and said, “i don’t want to intervene in their peace.”

then all of a sudden, that was your last encounter with jake. you didn’t hear any news about him or his whereabouts for a good six months. when you were told that he’ll be attending a seminar, you woke up late which led to not seeing him around the campus ever since. just like that, jake was nowhere to be found.

and you cannot believe why jake’s no-show bothered you so much.

you thought of him almost everyday, thinking whether he’s doing fine or coping from his heartbreak and problems. you thought of how he’s doing in school because you haven’t seen his shadow from anywhere. you were dead worried of him yet no one knows that you still are.

“y/n, later! don’t pretend to forget, you brat,” you laughed and nodded as a response.

your friend is having a party tonight and you prepared for it the moment you arrived home. wearing the simplest attire, almost looking as if you’re not interested to go, you went to the party.

the moment you stepped foot at the bar, you were reminded of several things. and definitely one of them is jake.

weird how the loud bass and taste of beer feels so nostalgic for you. was it the long period of time that passed since you decided to quit drinking? or was it, again, him?

you shook your head, trying to brush off the thought you have in mind. you took your fifth glass of cuervo and looked at your wristwatch only to see that it’s about three in the morning. you stood up, with your head quite heavy, and went to find your friend so you could bid good bye and leave. 

only to be stopped at your tracks because a pair of eyes are staring at you intensely. it’s jake.

it was quite a moment when you stared at each other but you decided to pretend as if you didn’t see anything. you’re confused at what you’re feeling at the very moment because, for you, you’re not supposed to feel anger just because he didn’t show up nor feel as if you’re longing for his presence.

“y/n,” you heard him call your name and a cold palm touched your skin when he held your hands to stop you from walking away.

you faced him, trying to show a smile. and there you saw a cleaner look of jake, a more mature one you must say. you looked at his eyes and you were surprised with what you’re seeing. your smile grew wider, more genuine this time, because he definitely looks happier now.

“hey. long time no see,” was all you can utter.

“y/n, i’m sorry—”

“look, i have to go home. the apartment’s gate,” you were cut off by him telling you that, “there’s no curfew and you always have a key with you. you don’t forget that. you’re afraid to get locked out.”

right. of course, jake knows that.

you’re afraid to get locked out, you’re afraid to be left behind. without a word, without any notice. you find it hard to forget, especially the moments dear to you, the moments that kept you warm. he knows that but why did he leave was all over your head.

“i have to go,” you said and let go of his hand but he didn’t budge. you kept moving and telling him to, “let go, jake.”

“y/n, i like you.” was what jake needed to say to make you stop from struggling.

he reached for your right arm and now his intense stares feel as if it can see your soul. and what happens now is the very thing you’re afraid of.

“i like you, i love you, i,” he sighed in frustration. “the last time we saw each other, it was you i was referring to. it was you whom i do not want their peace to be ruined. god, i even wanted to talk to you when you were first introduced to me. i wanted to hear more of your stories, i wanted to be even just a small part of your life, y/n.”

“i was so afraid of telling you because i know you fear this the most. you fear feeling things, you fear giving and risking all that you have, you fear the warmth of what love could give, y/n. i know that and you’ve always reminded me about that.” he continued.

“then why are you telling me this now?” i said, almost shouting because of how frustrated i am with what he’s saying. “why are you telling me you love me after leaving me, jake?”

“because,” he paused, looking both tired and frustrated of what’s happening right now. “because i can never get over you. i tried but i can’t and maybe because i do not even want to, y/n. i hate—”

“i fear commitments, jake.”

he looked at you, stared even, and smiled as if he just got reminded of a detail he forced himself to set aside.

still looking at you, with eyes begging you to let out what you really do feel, he said, “you can take your time. please, just allow me to—”

“i fear commitments, jake,” you repeated what you said. “what’s so hard to understand—”

“then just have me by your side, like old times, please.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Unbreak my heart (2/2) G.D.

Summary: One fight the night before their wedding ends in tragedy when Y/N steps into oncoming traffic and is hit by a speeding car. She survives, leaving her with a rather big gap in her memory that includes the entire time she’s spent with Grayson. While he’s hoping her memories come back, Y/N isn’t quite as keen on being with a man she sees as a stranger while she struggles to reconnect her past with her present.

Based on the movie The Vow

Warnings: blood, ANGST, talk of death, infertility, fluff, sexual references, swearing, alcohol consumption, STDs and PCOS

Word count: 9220

Part one

Waking on the couch is always a disorienting feat for Grayson, but to wake up wrapped in her scent without her to keep him steady, that was worse. Immediately, Grayson felt something didn’t feel right. He knew it deep within, as if his soul had felt her go before his mind caught up. It wasn’t hard missing a yellow post-it on the remote, her handwriting recognizable.

I need time to think things through. Please don’t look for me. – Y/N

Shaking, Grayson ran to her room with blurry vision, tears robbing him of his perfect sight as he looked through her wardrobe only to find nothing was left behind. And then he stopped and smiled – nothing was left behind – not the engagement ring she still wears even though he told her she can take it off if it makes her uncomfortable and not his hoodie she favored above all. She still took pieces of him with her and while it hurt she left at all, Grayson smiled because knowing she needed him wherever she went was such a beautiful heartache that he couldn’t help himself.

And she did need time. She needed time to rediscover herself, her past, present and future. She wanted to graduate college, to mend her relationships and place herself on the path she had wanted in life. Unfortunately for Grayson, that meant she’d only see him in the gym during rehabilitation and they’d have a cup of tea after her session. He got to see her three times a week for two hours. Every time he saw her she looked healthier, happier, and more alive.

However, he knew why – it wasn’t hard to guess.

“You’re seeing Archer again, aren’t you?” He didn’t mean to accuse her nor start a fight, but he felt it in his bones. She wasn’t glowing because she was back in college, but because she was back on her ex-boyfriend.

Y/N swallowed thickly, her eyes meeting his because even if she wanted to hide what was really happening, she couldn’t do it. She had to keep an honest relationship with Grayson.

“No. But I won’t lie and say that’s not a possibility. Archer and I have a history and I need to know what went wrong.” She didn’t even try to hide it, but her tone was different – low, wavering, filled with doubt. She wasn’t keen on speaking about Archer with Grayson, mostly because she wasn’t sure she should be digging around her past with a man she was still dating in her timeline. She just couldn’t shake that feeling that there is something there that she should know and if anything, Y/N was as stubborn as they come.

But she missed Grayson, terribly so. If she could understand that, she’d be the happiest person in the world. She felt herself ache for him, his smile and his touch and those comforting words he’d whisper in her ear when she got frustrated over forgetting something. He was always so patient, so sweet and it didn’t take long for her to catch feelings. But those feelings confused her too – she didn’t know what she was to Grayson. After all, in his eyes, he’d see the woman she was and Y/N felt like an imposter. The version of her that Grayson loves is three years ahead of her in experiences she might never acquire…those experiences shaped her mind, her views and her personality – she’s the one he loves, not this confused, lost little girl who doesn’t know who to turn to.

“Why don’t you come to my parent’s house tomorrow night? I’d like you to meet them without doctors around and we could…talk?” He nodded, smiling.

Accepting that invitation would turn out to be Grayson’s worst mistake.

**

Y/N never liked doctors, hospitals made her nervous and the smell of disinfectant made her nauseous. However, regular checkups after the accident were a must and while she wasn’t quite excited about them, she knew they were a necessary evil.

“It’s been four months since it happened. I thought I’d have my memories back by now.” She complained, chiefly because she wanted to remember Grayson. She hoped it would help her move on from him and stop him from being a new what-if in her life. It had become abundantly clear to her that she will never be the woman he fell in love with originally and she knew it would be a matter of time until he does too. She couldn’t wait for him to leave her first, so she did it herself, yet she still gravitates toward him.

Putting his notes aside, the doctor took a seat beside her, his eyes slightly narrowed at her as if he’s studying her, reading her mind.

“Do you want to regain your memory?” Her doctor raised an eyebrow, wondering if perhaps her memory loss has something to do with psychology.

“Yes.” She was aware her response wasn’t quite affirmative, mostly because she had so many possible scenarios in her head that she was concerned one of the bad ones would come to life.

“Because some patients fear that when their memory comes back, so will the memory of the trauma, but mercifully that's rarely the case.” The doctor informed, but Y/N’s concern wasn’t about the accident itself, rather what happened before it.

“Oh, no, that's not it. I'm... I'm... I'm not afraid of the accident.” She stumbled over her words, fidgeting nervously with Grayson’s engagement ring. For some reason, every time she took it off it just felt wrong. It felt like a body part missing kind of wrong and it brought her sorrow. She couldn’t part with the ring. That ring was a perfect outlet for her anxiety, both comforting and strangely familiar. It had represented her current self and her former self – the ring being given to her by Grayson and the ring’s design being exactly what she dreamed of.

“So, what are you afraid of?”

“I guess I just...I don't know. It's...I mean, what if I don't like the life that I had? Or what if I like it too much and I can’t have it again?” Twirling the ring, Y/N kept her eyes on her hands, unable to look the doctor in the eye again. Her mind is tormented with possibilities, but her heart is torn between two men, each holding a candle to a different life. “You can still decide you want a different life, but if you don't at least open yourself up to remembering, I'm afraid you're gonna live in fear of your own past and you could miss a lot of beautiful things as well.”

**

Y/N still couldn’t get used to sleeping in her old room, the pink of her walls driving her insane just as much as the memory of Grayson and how he’d always come in and wish her sweet dreams before he went to bed. She couldn’t wrap her mind around how her life with him must have been, nor how it came crashing down for him when she woke up.

It didn’t hurt her and her world didn’t turn upside down like his did – she can’t hurt over something she doesn’t remember, but she knew it must be hell for him. It’s why she brought her diaries with her when she left. She didn’t read a single page of the books she hid with her old diaries in the vent of her room, but she felt at ease knowing she could come back to it if she wished.

For now, she was trying not to use cheat sheets and figure everything out on her own.

At times, she could swear there were bits and pieces of her memories coming back to her. For instance, when she was taking a walk with Grayson and he flashed her a smile and the sun hit him just right, she saw a flash of the same smile under the same sun, somewhere in the desert. The memory gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling, but she didn’t see anything but the desert and his smile. It was barely a memory. However, when she would walk in the street at night and the headlights blinded her, she got a different feeling – overwhelming sadness followed by absolute horror. She didn’t know where she could place that snippet of her memory, but her theory was that she saw the moment before the car hit her. She understood the fear, but she didn’t understand the sadness that chained itself around her heart before.

No matter what she remembered, she still didn’t know if her waking up from the coma was a blessing or a curse. A part of her wonders if Grayson would have rather she died than to have her live and not be able to do the simplest thing such as hold her hand without being afraid she might reject him. She wondered if he wished he never met her at all.

Sighing, she decided this wasn’t a day to sleep in – not when she was to see Grayson that night. In fact, she had someone else to see that morning, so she heads out.

“Why did we break up?” She didn’t bother with pleasantries as she walked into Archer’s office, flustered from walking up the stairs because waiting for the elevator was maddening. She never had much patience for waiting.

“Uh…you broke up with me.” Archer closed the file on his desk before standing up, walking over to the girl who seemed a little too lost compared to the girl he used to know. He wasn’t holding back around her, not anymore. He placed a finger on her chin, lifting her head so he could look into her eyes with his captivating clouded ones. She loved those eyes, absolutely adored them – blue as the sky on a good day, cloudy like a storm when he’s conflicted. However, she wasn’t quite as drawn to them as she used to. She wasn’t enchanted with them nor did she lose her head over them…she found her taste has changed and the feelings she missed with Archer in this moment have been proven present when she looked in Grayson’s eyes. It’s as if her heart remembers, even if her mind doesn’t.

“You left me and I never got an explanation that would satisfy me.” Archer frowned, his forehead creasing – the only true sign time passed since she last saw him as her boyfriend. His looks didn’t change much except his hair is shorter now and he’s got a few wrinkles, stamps of a life lived. But there was something else she noticed – his nose crinkled as he spoke, his tell – Archer is lying to her and she still doesn’t know why.

“And you just let me walk away? No explanation, nothing?” Bitterness dripping in her tone, Y/N was fighting the urge to slap his hand away. She wasn’t too happy with how comfortable he’s become with her, too comfortable considering she supposedly just abandoned him.

“You’re the most stubborn, willful woman I’ve ever met. I knew you’d never come back if I begged, only on your own accord. I suppose fate still sent you my way.” Archer’s lips twitched, pulling into a crooked smile as he leaned closer, his lips hovering over hers.

“You’re calling my head injury fate?” She scoffed, placing her right hand on his chest before shoving him away. She definitely didn’t want to kiss him right now. In her head, it’s been about four months since she kissed him, but in reality, at least three years have passed and while she used to go crazy if she didn’t feel his lips every day, she didn’t feel the urge to reconnect now.

“I didn’t mean it that way. But had you not gone through what you did, I’d still be alone and suffering while my mind was always on you…and you’d be with that Dolan guy, married by now. You can’t blame me for being happy about having your back in my life.” Archer deadpanned, holding fast to his previous words, arguing it like a lawyer would.

“Don’t forget about the party tonight, okay? And be on your best behavior because that ‘DOLAN GUY’ is invited and I don’t want there to be any trouble.” She turned on her heel and left Archer in the office, his fists clenched at his sides as he stared at the closed door menacingly.

**

Grayson wasn’t nervous. He was nervous on his first day of school or when he first posted a YouTube video with his brother or when he met Y/N, but this? This goes beyond nervous and he knows that once he rings that bell, there’s no going back from it.

He’s already sweating through his fancy suit, the one she convinced him to buy when they decided to go to a museum for their second date, the one she told him he looks dashing in. His tie feels too tight, choking him, but he wanted to make a good impression on the people her family is friends with. He always knew her parents weren’t exactly rich, but they still had an impressive amount of rich friends and a big house that looked a lot like a ten million dollar mansion.

Clearing his throat, Grayson let out a long sigh, pressing the doorbell with confidence. It didn’t take long for her beautiful face to come into view as the door opened barely twenty seconds after he’d run the bell – he counted.

She lit up at the sight, looking him up and down with an extremely pleasant look on her face before her eyes met his and the feeling in his gut that something was wrong disappeared.

“Looking very dashing, Mr. Dolan.” She complimented in a faux British accent before they both burst out laughing and for a moment she felt that odd feeling again, like she had lived this moment once before, as if she could see the same suit on him in a mirror reflexion, her arms wrapped around his middle.

“I thought I should dress up.” Grayson stepped closer, taking her hand in his so delicately slow that she felt her cheeks darken instantly, her lips pursing in order to stop a smile from forming as he brought the back of her hand up to his lips, pressing them softly against her warm skin.

“You look dapper in everything.” She admitted shyly, her heart soaring when she feels him smile against her skin, lifting his head up, her hand remaining in his so casually as if it’s her natural habitat. She didn’t feel the need to retract it, not even a little. In fact, she gave his hand a light squeeze, pulling him inside with her.

“Champagne?” One of the waiters offers to Grayson, but Grayson and Y/N both wave him off at the same time, saying he doesn’t drink champagne simultaneously.

“How did you know?” Grayson bit his lower lip anxiously, hoping she was remembering and maybe that’s why she’s behaving so much like his fiancé on this night. He wanted it to be true, but he had no strength in him to hope for much anymore.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s…muscle memory?” She used an excuse and they both knew it. But she didn’t lie, Grayson knew that much. She was clearly confused herself, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“How’s Ethan? Cameron?” She wasn’t making small talk, in fact, Y/N genuinely wanted to know about the family. She often had doubts about how close she could have been with his siblings because it was clear from the way they behaved around her in the hospital that she should be more than just acquainted with them.

“Good. Actually, Ethan’s always asking about you and Cameron is…well, she’s running her bar and loving every minute of it.”

“OH. I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about calling them lately, but I didn’t know if that would be weird or not.” She didn’t miss the big smile on his face as she told him of her secret plans, knowing that it would make him feel better about her moving away from home, his house. She often had to remind herself to call it his house. And Grayson nearly jumped in his glee, too happy about it because it meant she still cared – if she was still willing to deal with his crazy siblings, she was still inside, the woman who told him she loves him two weeks into meeting him.

While Grayson was busy picking out a perfect flower to buy for her, Y/N was lost in him. She barely knew this man, but she spent every day of the past two weeks of her unexpected vacation by his side and she was so sure, so completely convinced in what her heart was telling her. Y/N wasn’t much of a romantic nor did she believe in love at first sight, but with Grayson, all those beliefs shattered for she did fall for him, almost instantly. It didn’t go slowly as it usually does, where two humans get together occasionally and talk. For Y/N, falling in love with Grayson felt like jumping off a cliff into the unknown with utter certainty he’d be at the bottom with his arms open to cushion the fall. She trusted him so easily, so fully that she didn’t know if she was losing her mind or finally finding sanity.

“I love you.” She stated easily, openly, without reserve, so much so Grayson felt his heart bruise as it jumped abruptly in response.

“You do?” He turned to her fully, his warm eyes boring into hers as his lips fell open in order to breathe because the amount of air he got through his nose wasn’t nearly enough for this.

“Yeah. I do. You don’t have to say anything, just…I thought you should know.” She shrugged awkwardly, her hands slipping into the back pockets of her jeans, her heart hammering inside her chest.

“I know it’s too soon and all and we’re both mental most likely, but I love you too.” She didn’t get a chance to say much as she felt his lips upon hers, his hands gripping her hips to pull her closer.

“Do you mind if I leave you for a bit? I need to pee so bad.” She whispered the last part, making him smile. She was never shy to admit when she had to go.

“It’s a normal, human need Grayson. Why should I feel embarrassed about having to pee? Everyone does it…if they’re healthy. I hope everyone does it because if they’re not, I feel really fucking bad that they can’t.” She mumbled through the bathroom door, the ones he closed after she ran past him like a madwoman, not even caring he’s there. Moving in five months into a relationship was a big step, but even when she was rambling about having to pee and how normal that is, Grayson knew it was the real deal. She was his soulmate…even when she talks about pee.

In need of some fresh air, Grayson walked out front, looking up at the sky with his hands in his pockets. He had a lot of reservations about showing up that night, but being there? It felt good. Being with her felt good.

“Leaving so soon?”

Grayson turned halfway to the door, finding a handsome man in a white tuxedo looking straight at him. It didn’t take him long to place that face with the guy who drove Y/N home that night she left their home and it definitely didn’t take him long to narrow his eyes at the guy who clearly had a superiority complex.

“No. Not going anywhere until Y/N tells me to.” Grayson wasn’t talking about the party only, they both knew it. While he may be in a less than desirable position right now, Grayson held onto hope he saw whenever he’d look at her hand and find his engagement ring on her finger. Even without her memories and them being anything but together, Y/N wearing his ring was the last bit of hope he had.

“Pretty sure she meant that the moment she left your ass. I mean…she’s got me now, so it’s time for you to crawl back into the hole you came out of.” Archer stepped down a few stairs, a smug smirk on his lips. He looked so good – good enough to punch. But Grayson promised her he’d never use violence as his first reaction.

“Yeah? Because she told me that when she was with you, she would wake up at night in a panic, thinking, ‘Is this all there is?’” Grayson wasn’t a cocky guy but he was definitely defensive. Perhaps it’s the insecurities and doubts he’s got about his relationship with Y/N or it’s just about hating this guy who acted like Y/N was his property, but Grayson wanted to shut his mouth. He wanted to put him in his place because even if Y/N didn’t remember why they were over now, Grayson was sure it was an unforgivable reason for she was never the type to quit on people.

“Wow. She told you everything, huh?” Archer raised an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into his pockets, cocking his head as Grayson hummed in response with an arrogant smirk of his own.

“Mmm-hmm.” He could tell some of the guests have noticed the small argument and have been looking at them through the window in expectation of a dramatic turn. Grayson told himself he wouldn’t let it get to that.

“Did she tell you that she threw herself at me the other day? Did she tell you that? Hmm? Or did she stop telling you everything when she forgot who the hell you were?” Getting into Grayson’s face, Archer was more than ready to cause damage. He wanted to provoke Grayson, to get him to crack. He wanted Grayson gone.

“Look, I get why you're being such a dick. You obviously love her, and you think you're gonna get her back. But the thing is, she outgrew you. What makes you think that won't happen again?” Grayson’s well-meaning advice fell on deaf ears. Archer didn’t care, in his mind, he had already won.

“Thank you for that advice. I will mull it over while I'm in bed, fucking your fiancé.” Grayson wasn’t even aware of his actions. In this moment, his spirit, his mind had abandoned his body that acted on its own accord. It felt like an out of body experience, watching himself make a great mistake as he threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Archer’s face, hitting his jaw with such force that blood pooled into his mouth upon contact. The sickening crunch had sounded in his head, like a satisfying melody, but the pleasure didn’t last long as Y/N joined them, utterly shocked at the scene she encountered.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Y/N screamed at him, running down the stairs with a horrified look in her eyes as she stopped beside Archer who fell back on his ass after a single punch. Grayson couldn’t help but chuckle dryly when he noticed her worry is aimed at Archer instead of him.

“Go, get it cleaned.” She whispered to Archer who managed to smirk wickedly at Grayson as he retreated, guests following inside.

“What was that Grayson?” She folded her arms over her chest, the cold making her shiver. He’d offer her his jacket but with the fury and disappointment pooling in her eyes, Grayson knew he wasn’t wanted here any longer.

“I don't know. That's a really good question because I have been driving myself insane, making a complete ass of myself! Literally trying everything possible to try to save what we have. And you've been throwing yourself at Archer.” He didn’t mean to raise his voice nor make her flinch like he did, but Grayson was lost. He had no other way to hide his frustration and he lost his patience completely when that man had the audacity to speak about her like she was a common whore.

“That's not fair. You don’t have a monopoly on pain, Grayson! We’re both hurting and we’re both placed in an impossible situation.” Her voice shakes as she looks away, unable to watch this heartbreak unravel. It breaks her too, for she loves Grayson. She truly does and while she doesn’t understand the feelings that have accumulated so fast, she knows they’re there and they won’t ever be returned. His love is reserved for the girls he once was.

“It's not fair? I see the way you look at him. I know, because you used to look at me that way.” Grayson didn’t hold back with her either. He was tired of watching his mouth because he was afraid something he says might hurt her. He was hurting too.

“Please, just stop. Okay? Stop! I’m not her! I’m not the girl you used to love. I’m not the girl who made those memories with you, alright? I tried! I tried to remember, looking at those photos and imagining what happened when they were taken to make you happy, but it won’t happen. God, I wanted to remember so bad, because I can see you’re hurting. I’m sure I loved you very much Grayson, but I’m not her. And you gotta stop doing this to me. I can’t be around you anymore! Not while you have that look in your eyes! That adoring, hopeful, loving look I’m sure I used to be mesmerized by, but it only brings me pain now! I need you to let me go. Can you do that for me? If you love me, just let me go.”

“Okay.” He says quietly, his eyes turning glossy as the pain hits him over and over again. It’s not his pain alone, but hers as well. The thought of him being the cause behind her anguish had destroyed him inside, leaving him desolate. She can barely see him with tears in her eyes, annoyingly pricking them with the cheap mascara she just put on in the bathroom – she wanted to look good for him, to have the luscious eyelashes that draw the guy’s attention…it’s silly, but she wanted Grayson to see she’s making an effort to look good for him.

“Can I....Can I just kiss you before I go? Just once? One last time...please?” His desperation doesn’t make it any easier on Y/N, mostly because she’s wanted to kiss him for the longest time as well.

Nodding, she comes closer to him, placing each hand on the side on his face. He stilled as she pressed herself to him and lifted her lips to his. Their lips met. And fused. Hungrily. She felt his hands lock around her waist. Her invitation, her acceptance, shook Grayson down to his very soul; he only just managed not to crush her to him. He kissed her deeply, searchingly, evocatively—and felt her flaring response. He tempted her, taunted her to stay, to cross every boundary. Through his shirt, her palms branded him, but he felt her ease up on the kiss – he felt her move away from him.

They part, both breathless and saddened. Deep inside, both Y/N and Grayson expected it to turn out as a fairytale, where a true love’s kiss brings her memories back and they live happily ever after. But it didn’t. It only made them hurt more.

“Grayson, I...” She fluttered her eyes open, wishing she could stay. She wished she could stick with him so badly that her entire being screamed his name, but she couldn’t. Not now. It would be too toxic for both of them – Grayson would always see her as his Y/N, the woman he was supposed to marry and Y/N would drown in his expectations. She couldn’t do that to either of them.

“No, I think we need to start being realistic. Your memory's not coming back. The fact is that I'm still just a stranger to you.” Grayson’s dejected, unraveling slowly as he felt his last bit of hope shatter when she opened his palm and placed her engagement ring in it with such reluctance that he could sense it without a word spoken.

“I'm not trying to hurt you. But I'm just... I'm so tired of disappointing you.” She wept openly, staring at the ring until he closed his hand around it. It’s silly just how connected she felt to that ring, how incredibly hard it was to take it off, even harder to give it back to him.

“I know.” Grayson smiled for her benefit, pressing a kiss to her temple one last time before turning around, sniffling. He walked away into the night as she stared at his disappearing figure, her tears ruining what was left of her make up. She didn’t know if she made the right choice for herself, but it was the right choice for him. Grayson would never have the old her back and it would turn him bitter in time. She couldn’t expect him to sit around while she struggled with her own demons.

She loved him enough to let him go.

**

“She’s gone? Really gone?” Ethan stared blankly at Grayson who called in a family support meeting at Cameron’s bar, desperate to have someone around. He didn’t trust himself that night. He played with the ring she gave back, looking at that piece of jewelry that meant the end for a love he wanted to keep for the rest of his life.

“Yeah. Even gave me the ring back.” Grayson placed the ring on the bar, taking a shot to down. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but that night demanded drinks to survive.

“Take it. One of you will have some use of it.” Grayson slammed the shot glass against the bar, nearly breaking it in his hand. He was already so angry and the worst part is that he saw it coming. He knew he had lost her the moment she opened her eyes and looked at him like he was the devil instead of her angel.

“Oh, I can be bad!” Grayson exclaimed, sending a dart flying straight for the bullseye. Y/N rolled her eyes before turning to all three Dolan siblings, her eyebrow raised.

“You? Bad? Cameron is literally the baddest among you, Ethan is a fucking butterfly tamer and you’re a dainty angel. You guys need to learn from your sister!”

“And that just earned you free booze!” Cameron snickered, pouring a full glass of tequila for her favorite soon to be sister in law.

“You sure you need more booze? I’d rather you not break my damn bar.” Cameron took the empty glasses, sliding the ring into her pocket as well. She didn’t want Grayson to do something he might regret and that ring was still important to him…to Y/N too, if she had to bet on it.

“When we met, it took her two weeks to tell me she loves me.” Grayson chuckled dryly, still in disbelief. “It’s been five months and I’m just a stranger to her. I’m a footnote in her and Archer’s love story. I’m the guy who ends up being tossed aside and the funny thing is…I never thought I’d ever feel sorry for Archer like I do now. I get how that asshole felt when I got with her.” Groaning, Grayson lowers his head on the bar, closing his eyes as the alcohol takes effect and numbs the pain – not entirely, just enough to get through the night.

“I’ll get him home.” Ethan sighs, struggling to get Grayson to his feet.

“Grayson, this feels like the end of your world. I get it. But don’t let it actually end your world.” Cameron whispers, leaving a quick kiss atop his head before Ethan guided him out.

**

Y/N found herself dealing with yet another sleepless night. Images of Grayson’s teary eyes had engraved themselves into her mind, there to remind her of just how much pain she caused him. She wished she could unbreak his heart, but the damage is done and she has to deal with her choices now.

No longer running from her past, Y/N fished her diaries out of the vents, searching for a very specific set of dates. She didn’t have to read much about the ones she wrote while she was with Grayson, very aware she loved him, but she had questions about how she felt in the days that she deemed as their last as a couple…but also about her last days spent in her parent’s house.

She surely got her answers.

Walking out of her room, she found her father sitting by the fire, drinking his scotch as always. She hated how much he loved his alcohol, even more so, she hated what he had done to her.

“How could you?” She didn’t yell nor shed a tear, simply shaking her head at her father who didn’t try to fight her on it. In a way, he knew that once she found out that he’d have to face her again. She was angry but disappointed most of all.

“You two were perfect together. I didn’t want a mistake to separate you.” He sold her the same excuse he did the first time around, coldly and without empathy. He had been so blinded by the business deals a union like theirs would bring their family that he cared more about the marriage happening than his daughter’s happiness.

“A mistake? Archer has cheated on me more than once! HE GAVE ME CHLAMYDIA!” Now she was yelling. She was shaking in her rage, unable to believe that she had let her father, her mother and Archer fuck with her head so much. She let them do this to her twice. She let her guard down even when Grayson asked her not to…the only one who actually cared about her was Grayson. She knew that now.

“At least I know why I left now. And you’ll know why I’m leaving again.”

She didn’t wait for morning to pack, gathering whatever she had before taking her old car and driving off. She couldn’t go to Grayson, not after their conversation that night. She had asked him to let her go and he did. He walked away, exhausted from months of trying to win her over and she wished she could tell him he managed to do just fine. She wished she could see his smile and feel his warm hands on her body. But Y/N had known the truth now too. She knew what she did…she knew what the sadness she felt that night truly meant.

“Out of all the bars in the world, you walk into mine? After closing?” Cameron raised an eyebrow, looking at the disheveled girl she considered a sister.

“The service here is impeccable.” Y/N forced a smile, pushing down tears as she took a chair and shrugged. “I remembered where you hold your spare key.” And her eyes watered again. No matter how hard she tried, the tears kept coming. She could remember the most random things, but she still couldn’t remember Grayson? She still didn’t know why it felt like her world burned down even before she learned of the betrayal her parents and Archer kept alive.

“Cool. Want a drink?” Cameron slid a glass over to her, pouring a glass of orange juice instead of alcohol in her glass. She felt the incredulous look Y/N gave her before she even saw it, smirking.

“What? You’re not drinking booze until you get some memories back and your brain heals.”

Nodding, Y/N took a sip. Orange juice is her favorite, something all Dolan siblings seem to be aware of.

“I’m looking for a place to live. Know anything good around here?” Y/N spoke between sips, trying to avoid Cameron’s lingering stare.

“Yeah. Your house. My house. Ethan’s house. Take your pick.” Somehow, Y/N knew that would be her answer. She knew Cameron was a sassy person by nature, always ready with a witty comeback or a sarcastic remark. Deep down, she knew that’s why she liked the eldest Dolan.

“I was thinking something along a ‘no roommate’ situation. I, uh, found out a lot of things tonight. Why I haven’t spoken to my family in years and why Archer and I broke up…why I felt heartbroken when I saw those headlights blind me right before the car hit me.” Y/N gnawed on the inside of her lip before meeting Cameron’s questioning gaze, determined to let someone in. She needed a friend and she trusted Dolan siblings. She just knew she could trust them.

“Archer cheated on me…more than once…gave me chlamydia which is how I found out. My parents covered for him for two years.” Y/N took another sip of her juice, her mouth too dry.

“Wait, what?” Y/N sat up once the news registered, shaking with rage.

“I came here because I had some pain and thought I had a bladder infection, not because of an STD! I’ve only ever been with one guy and we’re supposed to be…” That’s when she realized the truth, knowing that her oh-so-perfect-Archer is anything but. He is cheating and she’s paying the price.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Days later, she cut ties with her family and Archer, packing her things and going on a spur of a moment trip to Las Vegas where she’ll meet Grayson Dolan. That’s when her life truly began – filled with love, trust, such beauty he had shown her, petty fights and sleepless nights filled with passion.

“But I…I also know that I dropped quite a bombshell on Grayson that night. Turns out I’ve known for two months that I can’t have kids.” Y/N drew in a shaky breath, finding it ironic she went into the office thinking she’s pregnant only to find out she can never have kids.

“I’m sorry, but it was a false positive.” The doctors gave her a sympathetic smile, but the look in her eyes was all too familiar. She knew that look – pity, something she last saw when the doctor accidentally revealed Archer is a lying cheater.

“But there’s more, isn’t there? You did all those extra tests and then you called me down here to tell me the news because there’s something more, right?” Y/N wasn’t a fool and while she wanted the supposed pregnancy to be a surprise to Grayson, a man who had wanted kids more than anything in life and she wanted the same with him, for him, as long as they were together. She felt so alone right now, regretting not inviting someone along with her. She wished she had someone to hold her hand because the news she’d receive felt life-changing in a way, a bad way – the worst way.

“I’m so sorry to tell you, but with your history of polycystic ovaries and chlamydia that went untreated for so long, the infection had spread on the rest of your reproductive system and damaged it irreversibly. Both your…” And while the doctor tried to explain exactly how Archer and her parents made sure she’d never have a child of her own, Y/N drifted off. She twirled her engagement ring religiously as her focused on Grayson and the way he’d look at her when she tells him the truth. After all, being a father is something he always wanted to be. Being a father is something he talks about so often that even she can’t imagine anything other than that in his future. She loves him…too much. She loved him so much that this is tearing her apart more than it would had she not wanted to mother his children. She never liked kids, but she wanted to have kids – his kids. They always told one another their love was forever – something that can’t be broken or taken away, but for the first time in their time together, Y/N had started to doubt that promise.

Maybe then he'd leave, maybe she was destined to be alone; no husband, no kids. She spent so long in denial that she convinced herself she could go ahead with this marriage without telling him the truth, but she couldn’t, she knew that after he had caught her crying her eyes out so many times without an answer, or when he’d ramble about his friend’s baby or about the babies he imagines they’ll have. She couldn’t do that to him, so she decided to tell the truth – even if it dragged on to the very night before their wedding.

“Apparently my ovaries are so bad that they’re beyond help. Polycystic ovarian syndrome that matched with chlamydia I got from Archer which went untreated for months that helped start a greater infection so bad that both my tubes were affected and are kind of blocked. So yeah…They said I have options and all that crap, but the point is that I knew for months and I never told him…I was going to tell him that night which is what I assume happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Grayson’s mouth opened, his eyebrows furrowing until his scar crinkled under the pressure.

“I wanted to. I was so scared you’d leave me and…having kids is your dream. I didn’t know how to tell you I might be why you never get that dream or that you have to choose.” Y/N’s shaky hand reached for Grayson’s only to find him pulling away, not even looking her in the eye. “And I knew you’d choose me and I knew that once Ethan and Cameron start having their kids that you’ll get more distant in time and you’ll be bitter and you’ll hold it against me! So, I’m sorry If I wanted to live in a happy bubble for a little while longer.” She wiped her tears away, breaking when her angel refused to meet her gaze.

“Will you…leave?” She was afraid to ask and even more afraid of what the response will be. She loved him so much that the thought of a life without him tore her apart.

“I don’t know, okay? You told me something pretty big here and I need to adjust…I need to think…to…I don’t even know what. This is so fucking messed up!” Standing so abruptly from the table, Grayson tried to move past Y/N who had already grabbed onto his arm, trying to stop him long enough to apologize once again. She wanted to tell him she loves him, that she never thought happiness she experienced with him was a real possibility in life.

He didn’t listen as he walked out with her in tow. She was desperately holding on.

“I’m sorry. Grayson, please, please, please stop. Just talk to me, okay? Talk to me like you did when we first met, okay? Like that day when you so fiercely spoke your mind and I fell in love with it, with you.” Holding on for dear life to an aggravated Grayson, Y/N knew she should have let him be. He asked for space and she should have given it to him, but her fear of losing him spiked and she couldn’t stop herself. She wished she did because not even a second after, he did what he usually does…just not with her...he spoke in anger, spewing a lie he didn’t even mean.

“I wish we never met.”

Funny enough, he got his wish. Grayson forgot about the golden BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, BECAUSE YOU JUST MIGHT GET IT rule. After he spoke those words, it was just like that – like they were strangers again for in her head, she had never met him and he was doomed to suffer for he couldn’t forget the day he met her.

Cameron looked shocked once Y/N confessed to the entire memory lane, including that she thought she was pregnant, turning Cameron into an unusually emotional mess, her own emotions rattled. While Y/N didn’t remember the details of the fight, she definitely knew what caused it. She was just wrong about it being why she stepped into oncoming traffic in her sorrowful daze. Y/N didn’t know what Grayson really said and a part of Cameron was relieved.

“You definitely need a real drink.”

**

Almost five months later, Y/N found herself in a winter wonderland that’s New York. She’s always been annoyed with snow, but this year felt different. She knew that snow may not be her favorite, but it was certainly Grayson’s.

Yes, she got some of her memories back, still only snippets and pieces she’d sometimes dream about. For instance, she knew now that the desert images that came back to her earlier were actually about the day she met Grayson. She remembered more than just his smile…she remembered the whole day. Another thing she remembered was when she told him she loves him for the first time and that she heard him respond in the same breath he used to seal their love with a kiss. She did have some of her memories back, but not enough. She could never have enough.

So, wandering the street, Y/N steered herself into Central Park. It’s where Grayson took her every winter after he moved back into the city. She may have met him just outside Las Vegas when he was there to film a video, but she was always stationed in New York and he joined her rather fast after that. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she remembered when she went ice skating with Grayson for the first time, both of them wiping out because they had invented a silly game of catch…and he did catch her, only it was by an accidental tackle. Regardless, it’s where he proposed to her a year after.

Y/N didn’t like winter, but she always liked ice skating in the Central park after that. It had become like a tradition – the night before Ethan and Grayson’s birthday, the pair would come and skate right before closing time. It was a tradition she remembered and had to honor to help soothe her tortured soul.

Little did she know, someone else had felt the need to do the same.

The moment she stepped onto the ice, finding the rink completely empty, Y/N noticed it wasn’t quite vacant. A figure laid in the middle of the rink, unmoving as he stared up at the night sky, at the snowflakes pouring down on him. She couldn’t tell who it was, not with such distance but Y/N felt it in her heart.

She knew it would be him.

Stopping in the center, she laid beside the man who didn’t even hear her approaching. She could tell he’d been there for a while longer than she was, his nose red and in need of warmth. Whenever her nose was cold, he’d let her hide her face in the crook of his neck and warm herself despite feeling like she had placed an icicle against his carotid.

She wished she could do that now.

“A beautiful night, huh?” She decided to speak up, unaware he truly didn’t realize he has company. Jumping up, Grayson’s hand clutched his chest, his wide eyes settled on hers in an instant. She could see the terror drain from his chocolate brown eyes, replacing it with confusion, happiness, softness, and warmth – a look she got used to receiving from him.

“I, uh…Hi!” Grayson chuckled, unsure what to do with himself or this situation. He hadn’t expected to see her ever again and a part of him questioned his sanity right now. He wasn’t sure if she was a hypothermia induced hallucination or an angel that came to collect his soul. He definitely didn’t think she was real.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Bailey, I just…I guess I remembered this tradition we have and I couldn’t let that go.” She shrugged, averting her gaze to his red hands, certain he’s freezing right now. Without any restraint, Y/N wrapped her gloved hands around his, sharing some of her warmth with him.

“Remembered?” Is all he could say with his chattering teeth getting in the way, his heart drunk on happiness once he heard her say his middle name. He didn’t know if she did it on purpose for they had told each other it would be a code word in case she got her memories back, or if it was by chance, something purely on instinct. But the way she smirked at him, Grayson knew she had used it with a purpose.

“Yeah. I’ve gotten some of the memories back. Some I’m not even sure are memories or maybe dreams, but I’m working on figuring it out.” She smiled softly, her lips quivering from the cold as well. But she didn’t run as she cussed out the winter or snow, she simply pulled herself closer to him, praying he doesn’t pull away.

“Oh. Any good ones?” Grayson mentally facepalmed, shaking his own head at the stupid question he asked, hating just how awkward he is around her. She’s finally there by his side, almost a year since the accident had taken her from him. He wanted to hug her, kiss her, tell her he still loves her, but he waited for her to give him a sign. He refused to break his promise of letting her go without her asking him to.

“Just ask someone else out. Find a girl and tell her she’s cute and then bang her.” Ethan explained like it was the easiest thing in the world. He knew Grayson was suffering and his solution was to get him through it with one night stands.

“Not gonna happen, bro. I’m not ready to get over her. I need time and getting laid is the last thing on my mind.”

Grayson didn’t move on, even though he thought about it. He just couldn’t do it and so, instead of burying himself between some strange girl’s legs, he decided to bury himself in work. He spent a lot of his time on the road as well, worried he might run into Y/N in the city…or worse, run into her and Archer.

“Obviously good ones…I’m here, aren’t I?” Grayson relished in the light tone she used and the sweetness behind her coy smile. He was struggling to keep his eyes on her before, afraid he’d see her and his progress would fall apart, but seeing her now…it reminded him why he loved her in the first place. It was never about the accident or her forgetting him, but about him remembering her as she was and accepting who she is – and she did change, but there was still a lot of the old her inside and he saw her again in perfect light.

“You’re not home with Archer. In Manhattan.” It was more as if he was telling himself that, reassuring himself this moment was real and when her smile fell, Grayson knew this wasn’t a hallucination…she’d never be unhappy in his hallucinations or dreams – he always painted her joyful and light.

“Moved out the same night I asked you to…” She stopped as if the words are too painful to say out loud, like the notion of what she asked had toyed with her sanity for a long time now.

“Um, I’m living close by. Finished my classes and I’m working in a private clinic. And I’ve been working on my memories. I know there’s a lot of holes left to fill, but some of them are quite clear inside my head…like when we met…or when I told you I loved you two weeks into knowing each other.” Giggling, Y/N sniffled, letting out a puffy breath into the night.

“So, you do remember.” Grayson turned to her, wanting nothing more than to hold her close right now. What he hoped to hear for so long had started coming true and while it’s slow, he was ready to be patient with her again. He would wait and he would care and most of all, he’d love her – old her, new her, any version of her.

“It’s not a lot, but it’s a start. But even without those memories, I knew I loved you, Grayson. I knew it even as I was asking you to go…I think I knew since we got home and you gave me your hoodie to wear that first night…I know you think I didn’t wear it, but I slept in it every night. It was like my comfort blanket. The scent was familiar and I clung to it.”

“And you love me now?” Grayson angled his head to the left, waiting for an affirmative answer. But she pulled away, taking her warm hands with her. Grayson felt his heart drop just as she started taking her glove off, the left one, only to reveal a ring…the engagement ring.

“Cameron gave it to me that same night I gave it back to you. Never took it off.” Y/N admitted sheepishly, matching Grayson’s wide smile with one of her own. If it were up to him, he’d be screaming at the top of his lungs, running around in circles with a wide smile on his lips, hugging her so tightly she might break, but he was scared he’d hurt her or frighten her and that it might push her away.

“Where do we go from here then?” Grayson inched closer, his neck craning to reach her lips.

“We could go on a date or…go home and watch movies? It is Friday night after all and your birthday is in a few hours too.” She shrugged, smiling as she anticipated the touch of his lips upon hers.

“Well, Friday night is movie night. But better be prepared for my whole family descending upon us in the morning.” Grayson smiled, his lips hovering over hers as she narrowed her eyes at him in a playful manner.

“You mean our family?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, knowing she’ll let him in without overthinking this. Fate had lead them to each other on this special night and she wasn’t interested in fighting destiny. Serendipity was always her favorite movie for a reason.  

“I can work with that.” But she couldn’t wait any longer for his kiss, stealing those few inches of distance from Grayson with fervor.

And while Y/N never got all her memories back, she made new ones with the man she loved. After all, love heals our brains. Love develops the prefrontal cortex and enables us to make wise choices, without it, humans are like permanent partial-drunks thinking ourselves fully sober. They healed each other, fully opened to one another. We are born to love and with all the necessary courage to walk the path to it, no matter the roughness, no matter the hardship. They’ve walked a road not many have faced, survived obstacles weaker loves have shattered on, but their love simply grew stronger, sturdier, lasting.

Rehashing the past, falling victim to the whispers of the ghosts left behind is never we should allow. And yes, sometimes we need the past to learn from our mistakes, but when your present is good, look towards the future and keep hold of what makes you steady, loved, protected.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~           ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~           ~ * ~ * ~ *

Tags: @dolandolll​​ @beinscorpio​​ @godlydolans​​ @peacedolantwins​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​ @heyits-claire​  @jjustjoy​  @sltwins​

[flyingcookierambles]

study plans?

recently i feel like my friend going to japanese college has motivated me to try to start studying japanese again. plus some spontaneous chinese here and there, more vocab/pronunciation/tone focused rather than grammar right now.

ended up a kinda long ramble lol, ill cut it up into two pieces.

i literally do daily: 1 duolingo so the owl doesnt hunt me down like the weak prey i am (any language)

i try to do once a day: 1 or 2 anki decks for vocab. for japanese i use many: JLPT N4, Genki 1 & 2 Including Genki Supplementary Vocab,  Core 2k/6K Optimized Japanese Vocabulary, 2500 Most-Used kanji. For Chinese I use the HSK level 1/2/3 word list. these are seperate, just a pain to type lol. i dont use wanikani actually lol. the renaming of radicals annoyed/confused me, who was forced to learn the names of the very proper strokes in high school chinese lol. plus having no assessment test and having to start over from the very beginning and then getting the simplest kanji wrong because i remember the radical by its shape or a stroke by its proper chinese name and not a silly american name (no i did not learn this character is actually wearing a hat or a pot lid. thats weird.), i just got kinda annoyed and went back to simple anki flashcards lol.

3-4 times a week: going over 2-4 grammar concept from genki 2 so far. partly because when i was studying with my 2 friends over the summer we were doing a cramming thing for our friend to to get up to standards of the college they were transferring to, now attending. as a result, we uhh. kinda skipped over basically all vocab. only did the grammar, and sometimes not even all the grammar. we skipped over really simple stuff (ie the volitionary form which is just slapping a ~ou/おう at the end of things) and the stuff that was just -te form + some extra words. so i’m finally properly going over that stuff in full, alone. plus im rewriting/digitizing my notes in onenote bc pencil and pen kinda smear/fade over time so this will just be better if i want to go to my notes for reference in the future. the ease of searching by control+f is also nice compared to flipping thru pages in confusion. i also feel like my learning style is def repetitive related, so going over things a second time works for me. (for japanese im using using genki 2/the genki 2 track on bunpro.jp. (this website is incredible and for the most part free. even if you want the premium sub version, the cheapest sub plan is $2 a month! while i dont have it, i did do the free trial when i first signed up and it was ok and you can totally do the free version and get all the barebones japanese grammar explanations from like 4 different textbooks) when/if i ever finish genki 2, ill just check out the minna no nihongo track on bunpro, more to see if there’s any grammar that gets covered in that one that genki doesnt have. if they’re just the same but a different order or something, ill just move on to the tobira track since its the intro to real intermediate japanese grammar.) i might check out the free textbook irodori, more out of curiosity than seriousness honestly. iroiro uses a different fluency grading system than the common JLPT N5-1 levels, iroiro uses the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages: Learning, Teaching, Assessment, or CERFL. Since im focusing on the JLPT N level standards and these are totally different curriculums and stuff, im not sure how helpful irodori will be to me at this point but ill look at it because its a free textbook. when i try to relearn chinese again ill dig out my integrated chinese textbooks (goodreads), only intermediate since i seem to have lost my beginner editions somewhere in my house between moving from college dorm to house every summer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . i might check out the all set learning site, it seems to both HSK and CERFL. ill probably review the HSK 1-2 stuff real quick since thats basically what i learned in high school/college and i kinda forget a lot since its been like 6 years now. then ill maybe hopefully finally get to HSK 3. ill try to watch videos from yoyochinese on youtube too. she explains things really clearly and helpfully to native english speakers in a way that my previous teachers havent been able to. ill stick to the youtube tho since ive heard that the actual courses from her website are very expensive for online self study tho, and purchasing a regular textbook would be cheaper lol. 

once a week: try to use words from anki decks + whatever grammar i learned in practice sentences/make up sentences yourself. this is a bit hard bc since im self studying if my sentences end up wrong/sounding awkward to a native speaker i am not really sure how to check lol. i’m on polyglot.city (a mastodon instance focused on language learning/blogging) and i post there sometimes and people have helped me/rated my sentences every now and then but recently its been very slow. (japanese, altho i hope that i regain enough of my mandarin skills to do this again sometime)

every 2 weeks: after accumulating grammar for a bit, i try to read a grade/language level appropriate short story in the language. (hint: the level of a toddler probably lol.) for japanese i started using satori reader, altho other short story apps exist. for chinese there’s du chinese and tcb/the chairman’s bao. honestly i use du chinese just because im too lazy to make an account for tcb, altho i may finally make an account and use it one day. one day..... (japanese and chinese)

for japanese i just want to get to tobira right now and then long term is simply reaching what is probably jlpt n3, the typical not quite fluent but still ok enough to conduct business or ask a native speaker for help in a convenience store. kinda eh, a good middle intermediate level. from that point, i should be ok enough to try to read a YA novel. no not a light novel (might try it tho) but like a regular novel for middle schoolers. or maybe doremon? ill see where it goes from there. i hope to at least be able to understand some of the things an average person would like a weather forecast on the nhk or a short newspaper article. maybe ill take the actual jlpt test someday.....not sure how to sign up/where to find it in my city tho....

for chinese, i just want to know more vocab and improve my tones/pronunciation right now. 

[misslillianelliott]

Happy @blakesecretsanta2019 to my giftee @distinguishedinfluencercupcake! Hope you enjoy your gifts, I loved working on it. 

Simple Changes March, when the seasons change from summer to autumn. 24 days into the month and 1-day left. Lucien and Matthew had left earlier to stay overnight at the Colonists, at Lucien’s insistence. They had spoken about it, and Lucien had told her that he had somewhere to go other than the house, unlike her; so he would leave for those painful 24 hours before the wedding. So now, with 15 hours remaining, she was roaming around the for once very silent house in her nightgown and robe. Leaning back against the table, she waited for the milk to boil for her cocoa. She smiled, lost in her own thoughts about that kiss here a few months ago… it was passionate and showed nothing but his love for her. Soon they won’t have to worry about going too far!

‘Only one more sleep.’ Jean thought to herself. She looked forward to the intimacy that marriage offered, from certain perks to the simplest of touches. In one day it wouldn’t matter that they lived under the same roof. She wouldn’t have to stop herself or Lucien from getting carried away. The gossips would stop, move onto something or someone else who didn’t deserve the attack of those plovers. Stepping out of her dream, she turned the gas off before the milk burnt and she would have to start again. Preparing and drinking the warm beverage before returning to her room upstairs for the last time. She woke at a reasonable hour the next day and went to prepare a light breakfast for herself. ‘A simple omelette should suffice.’ She whipped it together with the usual ease and grace that had Lucien in awe of her. She had some time before Rose arrived for them to start getting ready. While eating her thought travelled back to the recent trip to Melbourne. To the young shop assistant who steered her away from anything white. She found it so rude, her job was to help the customers’ needs and wants, without their own bias and opinions unless asked for. First, she took her away from the traditional bridal gowns, then thought she was the mother of the bride, and in the end sold her a bronze suit. Not what she had had in mind at all. So she did what she always did and made it herself with the help of the last few friends she had within her sewing circle who were happy for herself and Lucien’s engagement. In the end, it had turned out quite well. Lucien had been quite impressed with her strength and ability. He knew what the shop keeper had done and he wasn’t pleased at all. She had to stop him from calling up to complain. “Lucien there is no need to do that, I have solved the problem now, and while she may not have been the best consultant, she just didn’t understand the situation. I doubt she has many of these kind of cases come through the doors of the salon.” “Jean darling, she still shouldn’t have treated you that way no matter your age or circumstance,” Lucien replied being annoyed on his fiancée’s behalf. “She will see how the world works and people’s different circumstances soon enough, it’s all part of the process.” And well that was the end of that. The dress was simple but certainly her style and appropriate for someone of her age and position in the community. No one really knew about it, Lucien had been too wrapped up in a case to notice her working on it and Rose only knew because Jean had told her she could wear the suit she had initially bought for the occasion. Rose arrived on time punctual as always, and they began to get ready. They got ready in the studio as Jean’s dressing table had been moved into there when they were doing the studio. Rose began to button up the back of her dress - she got about halfway before complaining ‘Jean, honestly, why did you have to make this dress with so many buttons?! It’s tough to do up. While I have no doubt that Lucien will enjoy undoing these later, I’m becoming rather frustrated with them now.’ Jean blushed a crimson red but laughed. ‘Rose I didn’t put them there for you to be frustrated at or for Lucien to enjoy. I like the style and the elegance they bring to the dress.’ After plenty of muttering under her breath, Rose finished her duty, and they made final touches to hair and makeup. Jean went out to the sunroom to collect their bouquets before departing for the club. x-x-x-x-x At the bottom of the stairs, Jean stopped in her tracks causing Rose who wasn’t paying attention to where she was going to run into her. “Jean, what is going on? Are you ok?” “2 minutes” Jean whispered under her breath. “Pardon?” “2 minutes left, after years of fighting it then trying to be together we have less than 2 minutes. After everything that we have been through in two minutes, it will all be worth it.” “Yes, yes it will, come on. It’s time.” Jean took a deep breath, pulled her shoulders back and began to walk up the stairs. She paused when she saw Matthew standing at the top. He smiled at her, blowing her a kiss before limping towards the alter. She stayed there for a moment longer allowing Matthew to return to his position beside Lucien before continuing. When she reached the top a grin spread across her face, she turned back to look at Rose who smiled back at her. Lucien’s grin matched her own as he stood in front of her. After barely making through the vows the couple were married. A long time coming, Matthew commented to Lucien. The party made their way through to the adjourning room for the reception, the happy couple talking to each of their guests individually, thanking them for their gifts and attendance. Charlie had bargained with his superiors to be able to come, he wasn’t going to miss this. These were his parents. As strange as it may seem to some, these were his parents; happy finally. He was greeted as if he was a son. Jean held her arms out for him and so did Lucien. Lucien commented as he walked over. ‘There he is.’ Yep, these are definetly his parents. He made a small comment about whether he would see Mattie. He asked Jean if she was coming and unfortunately she couldn’t make it as they refused to give her the time away. He would have liked to see her, have the family back together. They chatted for a moment before the newlyweds were called away to the dance floor. ‘You look beautiful.’ Lucien whispered in Jean’s ear, placing a kiss on her cheek before pulling away to grin at her. Jean leaned back in. Other couples slowly join them on the dance floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucien spots Matthew and Alice dancing off to the side. “Looks love is in the air.” Lucien whispered. Jean didn’t need to turn around, she knew who he was referring to. “Lucien don’t meddle, let them figure it out themselves.” “Wise as always dearest.” He leaned in for a gentle kiss before spinning her around. Once they had finished dancing, they made their way over to Cec to thank him for all of his help. “You both have always been kind to me, it’s the least I can do. Once again, congratulations.’ Once they had finished talking the couple made their way over to the cake. While Lucien had turned around to speak to guest standing nearby Jean had picked up the knife before getting the attention of her husband. “Lucien.” She called. Her husband turned around and jumped. He never got used to her wielding a knife or anything similar. He knew she was more than capable but it still made him nervous. They cut the cake and fed it to one another, much to Jean’s embarrassment, but secretly she enjoyed it. The party lasted long into the night. You couldn’t wipe the grin off anyone’s face; they had all waited a long time for this moment. When it reached midnight, the newlyweds decided that it was time to leave. Only the ‘family’ was left. Charlie and Matthew were staying in a hotel to give the newlyweds some space. The small party waved the couple off as they got into the taxi to head home before departing to their own beds. Lucien opened Jean’s door, helping her out before paying the driver. Then offering his arm to her as they walked into their home. It had been their home for quite some time but now it was indeed their home. Before reaching the door, Lucien stopped in his tracks. “Lucien – ” Jean stopped mid-sentence as her husband swept her off her feet. Jean pushed the door open, and he dropped her on the other side. “I have to carry you across the threshold, dear.” He gave her one of his charming smiles. “You didn’t really, but I glad that you did.” She leaned in to kiss him before leading him gently down towards the studio. Lucien had all of a sudden become quite nervous, and his hands had become sweaty. Jean noticed and squeezed his hand lightly to try to calm him down. This had been a long time coming, months of almosts led to this moment. But that wasn’t why Lucien was nervous. No one (besides his fellow soldiers in the camp) had seen the scars on his back, ropey and red. There wasn’t just a couple, they laced his back almost entirely. He wasn’t sure how Jean would feel about them. Jean had sat down on the edge of the bed, allowing him to get lost in his thoughts for a moment. Patient as always his Jean. He kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his. Jean sat there and patiently waited for him to talk to her. He took a deep breath, smiled at her nervously before standing up and turning his back to her. He took off each layer slowly, all while Jean sat in silence. As he took his shirt off, he started to shake. He stood there shirtless with his back to Jean. Waiting for a reaction of some kind. He was just about to turn around when her arms wrapped around his torso. He felt her head rest on his back and place a light kiss onto his skin. He turned around into her arms, but before he could say anything, Jean spoke up. “Lucien, they are part of who you are. I’m not going to stop loving you or leave because of them. I love you, they are part of who you are. I’m not going anywhere – ” Lucien covered her mouth with his before she could finish. Of course, he should have known that to his Jean they were just part of his story, that she wouldn’t love him any less. Jean broke the kiss to turn around, allowing Lucien to undo the buttons on the back of her dress. Which to Jean’s amusement, he found rather annoying and complicated, but nevertheless, he got there eventually. His reward was more than he could have ever asked for. They woke the next morning for the first time in each other’s arms. Jean woke first, always up at the crack of dawn. But this morning she didn’t want to get up. So instead she remained next to her husband, her love, her life and drifted off again. She no longer had to wait, not anymore.

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

C'est Si Bon

Summary: Jack frowned, going to sit on his windowsill with a bitter expression. His mind filled with pictures of a lost boy in the middle of a yellow brick road. Only, it was not the green pastures of Oz. No. It was the place where Jack somehow knew was called ‘The Territories’(?). The great & terrible. 

The ‘dreams’ had stopped attempting to fade and now just stick to the vulnerable parts of Jack’s brain. He no longer felt the place was a dream. But a memory, yes. That was right. He only couldn’t tell Rational Richard...his best friend and...whatever it was they were to each other now. 

Ships: Jack Sawyer/Richard Sloat

Word Count: 4,442

Tomato sauce coated Richard Sloat’s tongue in a disgustingly thick pile which slid uncomfortably down his throat. 

Coming close to their Senior Year Winter Break was nice & all but who in their right mind wanted a pizza party served to them at eight o’clock in the morning? Classmates of theirs filled the room with laughter while ol’ Rich got his answer...

Jack Sawyer shoveled the triangle slices into his mouth, folded in the middle just the way he liked it. A mess of cheese & sauce squeezed out the sides but his best friend never stopped claiming that was the best way to eat it. 

The mild stare was quickly caught by Jack’s travelin’ eyes that never seemed to be satisfied with their view. The smile he shot back pulled Richard Sloat back into a memory with a strong & muddy grip on his cold arm. 

--Shooting daisy air rifles in Jack’s backyard while miss Lily Cavanaugh Sawyer prepared iced tea despite the cold weather. Richard had been so afraid he’d catch his death from the wet air but Jack’s breath flew over his shoulder in visible puffs...yeah, Jacky taught him how to shoot.--

The sly movement of Jack’s blunt pencil brought him out of old thoughts and into something a little more...uncomfortable. There were occasional slinky moods which came over Jack like waves of cool blue water. 

They could strike him at any moment, it was never a picky type. Jack would just begin to roll his tongue in a low bounce that sounded like pop thundering into a fountain glass. ‘HollywoodLand Jack’. That was how Richard referred to his risky persona though it made his best friend feel sort of annoyed.

Jack slid his note across his desk and into Richard’s view. 

‘I know all the lyrics to C'est Si Bon now.’ was smudged in pencil 

Richard pushed his thin frames up his nose and shook his head, unwilling to participate. He kept his eyes forward on their teacher who was attempting to ease back into a lesson or two. He was quite sure Jack could be patient enough to wait for his trademark response of ‘that’s nice, Jack’. 

But as he so often did these days, Jack pressed on. 

His pencil danced once more across the paper. ‘Payin’ attention to me, sugar?’

Richard huffed quietly, he stole the pencil and wrote quickly so the teacher would not notice. 'Would you stop it, Jack?’

Jack Sawyer peered over Richard’s arm with an amused but loving grin. It said, ‘Oh Richard, you freak. Live forever.’ to anyone who listened. He did not write that in response however. No. Instead, he wrote; ‘Marry me!’ just for the sake of teasing. 

Surprisingly, Richie whispered his response before the note was passed again. “If only you make me a widow quick, Jacky.” He rolled his eyes and faced forward again. 

The Jacky boy laughed. 'You wouldn’t be a widow long, Chum.' He wrote carefully though he figured it was safe to speak anyway. 

'You bet I wouldn’t.' Richard printed on the note carefully before handing it back, reluctantly. He was in the middle of writing ‘And don’t call me Chum!’ when their teacher called out to them, legs stretching before him. 

“Mr. Sloat, Mr. Sawyer, I hope your note passing was important enough to interrupt our lesson.” He frowned, wrinkles forming around the old mouth. Anyone who thought serving pizza & trying to continue teaching at the same time was a bright idea...well they deserved to be interrupted. 

Richard froze, dropping the pencil as he did so. Jack looked at him with pain and guilt which doubled at the next sentence. 

“Would you like for me to read that important note out-loud?” 

Jack, ever so quick with his loudmouth, tried to think of a response but found himself too late as the paper slipped out from Richard’s binder and into the hands of their old teacher. 

An old, old man might still recognize flirting when he saw it behind thick frames. He may even share it with joy to embarrass two sorry closeted gay kids in his class. 

His sunken eyes flickered over the words and crumpled the sheet. “Consider this your first and last warning. Everyone turn your books to-”

Jack stopped listening but heard the sad ‘aw’ sounds of the kids around them, sad to be missing a chance to embarrass their classmates. He was glad to have dodged that but he just knew Richard was likely going to be steamed...

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Of course I’m mad!” Richard wiggled his arms wildly as they walked towards the Sawyer household which had been housing ol’ Richie for some time since his father...passed away when they were twelve. “We could’ve been...exposed to our whole class.” 

Weather-wise, it was a lovely sunny almost summer day. Jack clutched his books tighter and frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he’d-”

Richard shrugged. “I already forgave you so I suppose we don’t need to bicker about it anymore.” He huffed like that frustrated him before smiling softly at his friend next to him. “I suggest the notes need to stop. Might be good for your health.” He chuckled. 

Jack bounced. “That a threat, Richie boy?” He pulled Richard’s arm. 

“No. Just a thought. You should take care of yourself.” 

“Why I think the little man does care!” Jack pulled him again and giggled. 

“I don't care. It's just that I'm used to you, that's all.” Richard smirked and quickened his pace, hoping Jack would gallop on over to catch up. 

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miss Lily, victim to a new & happy routine, was again gone out for tea in the hour just before her son came home from school. 

Jack had encouraged his mother’s hesitant belief that she needed to get out more with something of a prideful yet relieved attitude. 

Richard knew not to question his best friend on the topic, not only because he believed Jack to be correct to have hope for his mother starting to enjoy life again, but also because the topic of dreams almost always followed. 

The young boys had been sharing a bedroom since Richard’s trouble left him homeless. And since their nightly routines joined, Jack had begun to mumble in his sleep. Strange things of his mother, werewolves and hell sometimes Richard’s name even slipped out ( Known as Richie to the sleepy Jack). Years of being the kind of best friends who breezed in-and-out of each other’s homes lead Richard to knowing this was a new development, most likely brought on by stress of his sickly mother falling ill & recovering so quickly together. 

But Jack did not like to discuss that. So Richard tried not to bring it up anymore. 

“Come on, Sugar. Time’s a wasting!” Jack smirked brightly and rushed towards their doorway. 

“Slow down, Jacky.” 

Jack came over a step or two & watched Richard pull a diet coke from the fridge. He sipped at the rim, eyes peering over his glasses with his own special innocence. He completely ignored Jack’s impatient stare. 

He laid against the doorway like a TV cowboy. “Bring you & your coke over here, Richard.” He tilted his grin and chuckled. 

Another sip & Richard finally strolled over, going right past him. He fought a blossoming blush as Jack smoothly kissed his cheek and stole the can for his own drink. “I am dying to make-out with you until we fall asleep, Chum.” He never did have a problem with voicing his feelings as of late. 

Richard appreciated that in a sense but a bit of strange discomfort nipped at his skin. He licked his lips because he couldn’t realistically hold back his charmed reactions. “You make this so easy, Jacky.” 

Jack swallowed a second drink and handed to coke back over with a genuinely curious expression. “What do I make easy?” 

Richard shrugged and with a push of a button, the TV static revealed a half clear image of that actress Jack liked so much...Myrna Loy. “Liking you.” Was about the simplest and most correct way to put it. 

His friend’s face melted...the sentiment apparently rendering him speechless. Richard tried not to take a selfish pride in that reaction but it was hard not to. He found himself giggling, popping up to his knees on the edge of the bed. 

He threw his arms around Jack’s neck and continued laughing against his neck. 

“It’s all about you, Richie baby.” Jack gently pulled Richard back and stroked under his chin, pressing a kiss against his temple. He then rested his own chin atop his friends hair and froze there for a moment or two. 

There was obviously something on that creative mind of his which Richard craved to ask for. He always went about things like that the same way since the boys were tots. Curving back so he could look him in the eyes, he gave him an old look. 

Jack pulled away. “I wish you’d keep that mouth of yours closed, buddy.” He said, no venom in his tone at all. Just a sad...and sort of content(?) sounding sigh. 

Richard leaned back on his palms and smiled. “Are you still dreaming?” 

Jack frowned, going to sit on his windowsill with a bitter expression. His mind filled with pictures of a lost boy in the middle of a yellow brick road. Only, it was not the green pastures of Oz. No. It was the place where Jack somehow knew was called ‘The Territories’(?). The great & terrible.  

The ‘dreams’ had stopped attempting to fade and now just stick to the vulnerable parts of Jack’s brain. He no longer felt the place was a dream. But a memory, yes. That was right. 

He only couldn’t tell Rational Richard...his best friend and...whatever it was they were to each other now. 

“Bad dreams?” Richard questioned farther. 

“C’est Si Bon.” Jack answered smugly and hopped onto the bed, deciding to be chummy again. “So nothing to worry about.” He sat next to him and brushed some of his featherlight hair from his face. 

Richard opened his mouth but it fell shut when Miss Lily Sawyer could be heard coming into the living room. Jack slouched against him, head resting on his shoulder with a mixture of expectance and disappointment. 

“So long HollywoodLand Jack.” Richard mumbled quietly, pushing his glasses back up and kissing Jack’s cheek as he sat up. 

Jack huffed but smiled nonetheless. He attacked Richard’s cheek and neck with kisses. 

                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the first time in a long while, Richard dreamed of his Father among other things. 

Not nice dreams. 

‘The closet with the folding doors...his daddy going inside and not coming out. No matter how long he called for him...’ Richard stirred in his bed which went unnoticed to his sleeping friend on the other side of the room. 

‘Shooting daisy air rifles--yeah, Jacky taught him how to shoot.’ Richard let out a whimper. ‘Richard was there in full-body now. A small degree of a fever burned under his skin--Jacky was teaching him how to shoot in the closet. They were in there together.’

He shot up in his bed, sweat pouring down from his temples. The wide world of unfamiliar beauty had almost been painted behind his eyelids for a moment there. He hardly was aware of the scene his waking up had been until he glanced up to see the concerned face of miss Lily. 

Her beautiful face was close by as she knelt on the carpet, robe pooling at her knees. He wanted to cry. Cry for his lost daddy but knew with all his heart that he very well couldn’t do that. Especially with Lilly Sawyer just there next to his bed. 

“My word.” She smiled gently. “You were just about inches from plopping onto this old carpet.” Their relationship hadn’t been all sunshine & rainbows considering what old Morgan Sloat had done to her & her family. But credit to Miss Lily. She always treated him kindly. 

“I’m sorry for waking you, Mrs. Sawyer.” He frowned, blinking into the dark room. She shook her head and set down a glass of water onto his nightstand. 

“I was already up. Drink some and go back to sleep, will you?” She tapped the glass and looked onto him with what might’ve been fondness. 

And just like that, she was gone from the room. 

Richard slurped down the water, attempting to slow down before he gave himself the hiccups. He was about to settle in for sleep again when Jack padded over, pajama pants a bit long for him. Richard wasn’t quite sure when the boy had woke. 

He sat down next to him and looked down with a curious expression. It was nothing like any of his usual faces which unsettled Richard immensely. He shuffled closer and rested his cheek against Jack’s arm. 

“I’m sorry, Sugar.” Jack mumbled, shifting down so they could lay face-to-face instead. Richard simply hummed. 

“Just bad dreams, Jack.” He blinked his eyes closed, long lashes free from behind his glasses, and nearly drifted again. 

His partner just continued to frown, drifting closer. “I hope you can remember the time I fell in love with you, Richard.” Jack spoke so softly that Richard barely heard. He figured he really wasn’t supposed to hear that. Jack thought he’d gone back to rest. “When and where.” An afterthought, he spoke aloud. 

Jack kissed his temple and returned to his own bed. 

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Myrna Loy was on the cheap TV again the next Saturday morning. Jack watched her move about William Powell as he shoveled dusty cereal into his mouth. He’d even picked up Richard’s habit, no milk but still using a spoon. 

“G’Morning.” Jack mumbled into his bowl. 

Richard could tell from the missing keys on the hook by the door that Miss Lilly had left, he hoped she was treating herself to a quiet breakfast. So he slowly started on his toast, kissing the top of Jack’s head for a greeting. 

“I want to talk about us-”

“Can I ask you about your dream last night-?”

The boys spoke at the same time, not unlike them at all, but felt a flicker of pre-tension. Richard frowned. He didn’t want to talk about the useless dream, he knew he was a big fat hypocrite but there really was no point in chatting about something probably induced by a heavy dinner or stress. “It was a nightmare. About my dad.” He shrugged. “It’s nearing his Birthday, now that I think about it. That’s probably why.” He rolled his lips together and forced tears back in. 

Jack gently took his hand and rubbed circles on his skin. “Any other details you remember-?” 

Richard ripped his hand away and scuffed, moving to the other side of the kitchen area. “I don’t know, Jack. What does it matter anyway?” His eyes narrowed. 

Jack shrunk back but kept a stoic expression. “I just want to talk about it, Richard.” His tongue clicked. “You always want to talk about mine-”

“Yeah! But that’s because I can help you figure out the real reasons for your dreams.” He finally pushed his glasses (which had been hooked onto his sleep shirt) onto his face. “I fear for how you might encourage my odd dreams.” 

Jack groaned. He took slight offense at the comment. “I’m not insane.” His friend frowned, clasping a coffee mug close to his chest. 

The room was silent for another twenty minutes or so while Richard finished making his neatly plated breakfast and sat across the counter. “I still want to talk about us.” 

Jack blinked up at him and then...shrugged. As if to say; ‘Go ahead but I’m still pissed. Might even win this argument because of it.’

“You love me?” Richard hated the phrasing of his question. It made him sound childish but...he felt as nervous ever. “As in...in love...you know? Are you in love with me? That’s what I mean.” He was embarrassed that he lost his ability to articulate. 

Jack wanted to be angry still. That much could be seen in his initial expression but it melted shortly after. His cheeks flushed a light red color. “Yeah. Of course I am.” 

‘Not thinking, Jack came back in for a moment and kissed Richard’s cheek. Richard put his arms around Jack’s neck for a moment and hugged fiercely. Then he let Jack go. Neither of them said anything.’

Richard felt that spike of memory hit the middle of his forehead and he squinted from sheer pressure. “What did you mean then? Last night? When & where?”

“Are you sure you want to hear about that, Sugar? Might encourage your odd dreams.” Jack went back to pissed rather quickly from smitten. Richard felt a pang of guilt. He rolled his lips together and sighed. “If you know, you know-” He started, leaning over the counter to claim some of Richard’s body heat.

“What does that mean-?”

Jack chuckled. “It means...maybe one day, you’ll remember. I hope so. But-” He cut himself off and tilted his half-grin. 

‘And you won’t always be reminding me? You know...jogging my memory?’

‘Not if you want to forget.’

‘I do, Jack. I really do.’

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know that I should just keep reminding you.” He felt a sudden burst of dizziness and fell back on the seat of his fading jeans. 

Richard took a deflated bite of toast. “You make me happy, Jack.” He swallowed, speaking earnestly. His buddy had a way of telling if he wasn’t. 

Jack’s face came over with another beautiful smile. “Just the four words I wanted to hear, Richie.” He reached over, wiped a crumb from his friend’s lip and kissed him softly. 

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the crystal clear windows, flakes of snow danced through the air and pelted the ground. Jack Sawyer’s mind nearly recalled every bit of his twelve year old self’s adventure. There was an odd bit of a mourning period after the most of it rained down on him. The Territories seemed so close yet so far out from his reach. 

He folded the laundry and kept himself entertained with a thin novel, cracked open in his free hand. Richard was working on a fresh pot of coffee and his mother was in her morning shower. 

Though, Richard came from the kitchen in mere seconds with his light-blue mug clutched in a steady hand; which he then used to turn the knob on the Television down. Jack watched him settle gracefully on the carpet with a smile. He folded one of his shirts and took it upon himself to start singing ‘Love & Marriage’ quietly...

Richard peeked up at him with an amused smirk. “Who are you saving that lovely singing voice for? Your actress...” He raised a brow and sipped his coffee. He tipped his chin to yet another Myrna Loy movie playing on the screen.

Jack smiled. “Not my type.” 

“You have a type?” He chuckled. 

“Only you, Sugar.” Jack threw another shirt into the basket. “A Lanky brunette with attitude.” He winked and enjoyed the way Richard rolled his fond eyes. He crawled onto the floor next to him and kissed his cheek over & over. 

Richard chuckled and pretended he didn’t love the soft attention. He curled closer after a few seconds of gently swatting him away. Once he was basically between Jack’s legs & leaning on his chest, he sighed. 

Jack hugged his boy a little tighter and heard himself speak in his head. ‘I’m going to take care of you Richard. You’re the herd now.’ Air just barely made it past his lips as they thinned together, nestling his face into Richard’s hair. 

A second voice spoke in a nasty tone. ‘Do you know what the bible says about homosexuality, Jack? Well, all boys are bad. It’s axiomatic.’

The door to the bathroom flew open & just like that, his old chum jumped back onto the couch. It left a cold feeling of disappointment deep in Jack’s gut while he watched Richard straighten himself out. 

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Failing to start his car in the middle of the movie rental parking lot was where Jack began to realize he was genuinely worrying for Richard for the first time in a few years. 

His chum was curled up on the hood of the old car, sneakers flat on the metal as his knees curled up to his chin. The sun gave his skin a shiny glaze which was reminiscent of the old days they’d used to spend playing at the park. But the chill was unmistakable.

Rich was in the thick pine green sweater that Jack simply adored because it was like cuddling with a pillow. 

‘I want to be awake, Jack. I don’t want to have this dream anymore. No. I don’t want to.’

Jack stuck his head out the window and enjoyed the view he was gifted for the few seconds he had left. Richard turning to look back at him with the pale winter sun shining on the roads behind him. “Are you still having those dreams?” He dared to ask. 

Richard frowned, legs sliding down the hood. “Yeah. But things pass as time goes by.” He looked as if he knew that answer would only disappoint Jack. He shook his head. “Where did you get these ideas about my dreams being...real?”

With the inflection on that question, Jack was positive now that Richard remembered his time with Travelin’ Jack & the Territories. He was just masking it as he’d done when it was a current event in his life. 

Richie knew Jack knew this too. But hell if he’d admit to it. 

Jack rolled his eyes and stood from his seat, shutting the car door behind him. “I don’t want to fight about this, Chum.” He spoke earnestly, sounding a bit like a black-and-white film star. “I just want to know if you’re hurting at all?” 

“I was.” He tilted his head. “Most of them were nightmares about my dad...or me getting hurt badly.” 

Jack tried not to picture those gray moments where Richard had been grotesquely injured in the Territories. 

Richard’s eyelids fluttered from the weight of a long afternoon. “But some...” He leaned into Jack just the slightest. “Are you & I speaking of how we love the other before going on another leg of some journey. Those ones are nice.” He nodded. 

Richard, who’s eyelashes were short but his eyes were huge, looked up at Jack with so much love in that moment that Jack might’ve swept him into a long movie kiss if they weren’t in public. “Maybe I don’t remember a lot about the where, Jack.” (He remembered more each night) “Hell, maybe I don’t even want to-” (he didn’t) “But I love you. So much and so seriously.” (He did. More than he ever loved anyone.)

Jake softened, opening his mouth-

“I just don’t like thinking about that time.” Tears started to fall down Richard’s cheeks. 

“But you admit...?”

He swallowed something thick and nodded with annoyance. “It happened. I know that.” He looked Jacky in the eyes. “But I don’t want to remember it because it scared me. Badly. What my dad did...” 

He shook his head. “I hate him. But when I think back about that time in my life...when you came in through the Thayer window. Well, I remember how I used to love him. I don’t want to give his memory that satisfaction. And I sure as hell don’t want to live through the heartbreak again.”

Jack glanced up at him and almost died of fright. For when he looked up, he briefly saw... ‘Richard’s poor, tired face was covered with running blood...He could see the naked gleam of Richard Sloat’s skull’

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m so sorry-” Jack rushed forward, momentarily forgetting they were definitely in a public area, and kissed his boyfriend over-and-over. 

Richard hummed. “It’s ok...” the hum turned into a chuckle. “Jack? Jacky? C’mon before people stare. Or throw shit.” He patted his back and smiled when Jack pulled away. “I’m sorry I can’t remember some if it as fondly as you can. But just know that I’m so amazed by you for what you did. And I’ll gladly hear more of your Wolf stories anytime.” He pushed some of Jack’s sweaty hair back. 

Jack positively glowed. “You remember me telling you about Wolf?” 

Richard nodded. “I wish I got to meet him.” 

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lilly fixed the boys some hot tea before bed & told them earnestly that she knew. She knew about them being together & for a while. It’d shocked Richard to no end but Jack just grinned. So, so happy to have his mother in his life. So thankful for the chance to save her. 

She said her goodnights and headed off for bed. 

So Jack figured he’d gotten a gentle permission to lay in bed with Richard...at least until he fell asleep. Then he’d move to his own bed again & give his boyfriend some space. 

He laid there next to him, brushing his hair back and enjoying Richard’s quiet ramblings. 

“I’m sorry if I...” He started. “If I worry too much. I know I have a lot of anxiety and that can be difficult to deal with.” Richard mumbled as Jack softly removed his glasses for him. 

“Don’t apologize, Chum.” He kissed Richard’s nose when it wrinkled at the nickname. “I know that there are people who might think that’s a bad thing about you...but I get it. And I love you for it.” He leaned down to kiss him. 

Jack chuckled at his own sudden nerves. “I don’t want you to ever end up with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself...who would want you to be more of a ‘normal type person’ or some shit.” He felt an odd bunch of tears start to drown his eyes. “Who wouldn’t know to leave your greatness alone. Ok? So I just want to say that I can do that for you...for the rest of your life, if you wanted.” 

Richard pushed himself up to a sitting position and was dead silent for a few seconds. “We can’t get married, Jacky.” 

Jack grinned and nodded his head. “I know. But I think maybe one day we’ll be able to. Would you like that?” 

Richard wiped his cheeks with his sleeve and giggled. “Yeah! I would. You dork.” He smashed their lips together and enjoyed the way they melted together. 

They laid together just long enough to hear ‘C’est Si Bon’ play on Jack’s record player 1 time and then were off to sleep...

[scribe-the-write-thing]

So after a VERY bumpy stretch of road in my life, I’m finally back on writing,yay! I hope to get more out soon, but I focused on something a little easier to get me started!

Here we meet Verity, and Barkley really needs to learn how to correctly convince a witness to help in the case. Aleiah takes over for the interview since uh... Barkley isn’t the most gentle at the best of times, but we’ll all get to see Barkley’s interrogation interview methods when it comes to meeting the Alexander we see discussed below. And things really, really get fiery there.

For now, though, enjoy Aleiah’s gentler, more professional touch. Oh also, she’s a Dr in, an official capacity,  in psychology. Under the table and as part of the agency though-- she’s a doctor of cryptobiology (being able to make up fake things for the world I'm in is fun).

This is taken straight out of draft one, so it’s shaky and subject to change but! Here goes nothing.

-

[BEGIN LOG]

[Interviewer: Dr Aleiah King. Dated ██████. Informal interview in Dr King’s room at the local Inn]

[██████ is a maid at the Whiterose estate. For her own protection, she will be referred to under the alias of Verity. Interviewee agreed to only be interviewed privately, for a short while, with the agreement that no one else is informed. This was after much persuasion from Agent Barkley -- whom she refused to speak with. Interviewee expressed anxiety repeatedly before recording, and fidgetted frequently throughout. She insists that she cannot stay too long.]

DR KING: I’d like to thank you for agreeing to do this, it helps to have at least    one person willing to cooperate. 

VERITY:   It’s… Okay. I just- I want this over with. I just want to be left alone.

DR KING:  I understand. Barkley can be…. [sighs], forthright, sometimes. I       know. I’m sorry if she’s been disruptive.

VERITY:  [scoffs] Disruptive? Do you know how many times she’s shown up to my house? I speak to her once, and this is how she treats me? Is it standard  procedure to harass people? My kids-

DR KING:     -I apologise for my partner’s behaviour. But nothing about this case is standard. Barkley wants to find the truth, ██████. As do I. Miss Weiss’ journal indicates that you were one of the last to speak with her. Can you confirm this?

VERITY:  Weiss?- You mean... Camille? Yes- she- she spoke with me. She wanted to know about the estate. About my job. [Pause] But I didn’t know her well, or anything.

DR KING: So, you weren’t friends?

VERITY: [laughs] God no. I mean- I tolerated Camille, like many did here. She wasn’t a bad girl, per se. But... far too forward for my liking. Every city girl stereotype you can imagine; that was Camille. We only talked a few times-- when she caught me walking home or… dropping my kids off at school.

DR KING:  But you knew her well enough to be on a first name basis?

VERITY:   [Pause] We’re… it’s a small town. We’re friendly enough here to all work on first names, maybe things are different in the big cities.

DR KING:    Miss Weiss mentions you quite a bit. Is she… over exaggerating your level of interaction? 

VERITY:   … So we met a few times. So what? She… came to my house once. I told you, it wasn’t any big deal. She might have taken more out of it than I did. I  don’t know.

DR KING:    Please, ██████, things will be easier if you’re truthful

VERITY:    I’m telling the truth. 

DR KING: Yes. But I need the whole truth if we’re going to find Miss Weiss. That’s what you want, correct?

VERITY: Of course I want Camille to be found. But have you considered that Camille herself might not want that?

DR KING: You believe that Miss Weiss has... chosen to go missing?

VERITY: I don’t know. Camille was always desperate for a story. Perhaps she decided to become one herself,

DR KING: Did Barkley tell you that?

VERITY: No. She didn’t say anything other than yelling questions at me at ungodly hours of the night, why-

DR KING: It’s only that she shares in the same theory. That this is some... stunt.

VERITY: Perhaps she does have some intellect then. It does seem the simplest answer, no?

DR KING: And the most convenient for the town, and for the Arnou family.

VERITY: Is this leading up to some sort of point?

DR KING:  Alright… You said Miss Weiss was asking about your job? Why would she want to know-

VERITY:  Why would I know?! She was like you two! Never leaving me alone. She  always asked about my work; that’s all she ever wanted to talk about.

DR KING:  Do you think she intended to inquire for a job there?

VERITY:    No. No, she- she never wanted to know about anything like… that.

DR KING:   What do you mean? 

VERITY:  She wanted to know about… about the estate. About the family. She wanted to know what went on in the manor. She kept asking questions         about staff, about… things she thought she saw. She wanted an interview        with Alexander. I don’t know why she thought I would be capable of doing that-

DR KING:  But you were capable of getting her an interview. Weren’t you?

VERITY:    I-

DR KING:    Weiss’ notes indicate that she visited the manor on two occasions. 

VERITY:    I don’t see how that’s relevant… We have visitors to the town trespassing a lot-

DR KING:     But we both know that Miss Weiss was hardly a trespasser. In fact, we know that her first visit here was on an invitation from the Arnou family themselves. A letter signed by Alexander Arnou- You had.... no hand in this at all? You can be honest with me. You’re not in any trouble here.

VERITY:  [lowly] I… I told her to stay away.

DR KING: Can you repeat that? I-

VERITY:    I only mentioned Camille to Alexander once. She must have           arranged the meeting herself. 

DR KING:  Did you say that you told her to-

VERITY:     [raising voice] I couldn’t tell her to do anything. Camille did what she wanted. That’s all she ever did since she arrived. She didn’t listen to anyone- she just- she came barrelling in without a care, acted like she owned the town. Started messing with the founders, trying to get into the estate- talking about all her theories-

DR KING:  It sounds as if she was causing some upset to the residents?

VERITY: (laughs, harshly) You could call it that. We’re used to bothers but... Camille pushed further than most. There are good folk here. Honest folk. People that don’t deserve to have their private lives pried into.

DR KING: And was Alexander one of the people she decided to... pry into?

VERITY: [sighs] What do you think? You read her diary, didn’t you?

DR KING:  Were you there when she came to the manor?

VERITY:    [SILENCE]

DR KING:    Did something happen? Please, any information could be helpful with finding-

VERITY:    I- I ca-. Nothing happened. Camille-

DR KING:   You seem nervous- Please, Miss ██████, if something happened, you have to tell me. For Camille’s sake.

VERITY: N- No.

DR KING: No?

VERITY:  The family affairs are private.

DR KING: What?

VERITY:  We take their secrets to the grave. I cannot tell you.

DR KING:   [voice raising] A woman is missing. Now isn’t the time for- If you have information- 

VERITY:  I can’t. 

DR KING:    You… can’t tell me? If you’re scared, I promise you that we can provide protection for you and your children, you’ll be safe-

VERITY:    [snorts] That’s not why. You don’t understand. I just... can’t.

DR KING:  You mean you won’t.  Withholding information is-

VERITY:    [Loudly] I. Can’t. 

[SILENCE]

DR KING:    ... Help me try to understand-

VERITY:    You couldn’t. Even if you tried.  I want to leave. Please. You’ve asked your questions- I need to go-

DR KING:  You’re in no fit state to leave alone- you look-

VERITY:  Please. Let me go. I- I’ve told you… everything you I can. I swear to you.

DR KING:  There’s more to this than you’re letting me know. You can tell me now, or I can find it myself. I have more than enough grounds to investigate. The family will be interviewed-

VERITY:    [INAUDIBLE]

DR KING:  Excuse me?

VERITY:  [pause]  I said it won’t work. [laughs] Even Camille knew that.

DR KING:  What do you mean?

VERITY:  It doesn’t matter. I meant that- that you wouldn’t find anything. 

DR KING: Why-

[AUDIBLE SOUNDS OF A CHAIR SCRAPING AGAINST THE FLOOR, FOOTSTEPS, A DOOR CREAKING OPEN.]

VERITY:    I mean- there’s nothing to find. You- you really shouldn’t-

[sound of more footsteps, both the voices of DR KING and VERITY are further from the recorder, muffed.]

DR KING:    You’re scared of them, aren’t you? They have something on you-

VERITY:    You don’t know anything about me. And don’t make- assumptions about the family. You should- we all should be more grateful to them-  everything is for the greater good- you don’t know the half of-

DR KING:   Then tell me. How am I supposed to know if no one tells me anything?

VERITY:   [scoffs] You’re as bad as Camille. You think we all owe you something. That you have the right to interfere with whatever you want. If you keep digging, is it really a surprise when you find something you shouldn’t?

DR KING:    Did Camille find something she shouldn’t?

VERITY:    I- I need to leave. Please don’t- I don’t want to be part of this. I             shouldn’t have even- I’m sorry.

DR KING:   At least let me walk you home-

VERITY:   No! No- it’s alright. I- I just want to be left alone.

[END LOG]

[Notes: Interviewee expressed physical symptoms of a migraine after being asked about the events at the manor -- continually rubbed her head and seemed almost in distress. I intend to give her a few weeks to recover before attempting to interview her again. Perhaps building a rapport with her may ease her anxiety. I blame Barkley for this... Poor woman.]

So? Thoughts on Ms Verity over here and what might be going on with her? Aleiah is convinced there’s something awful happening, and Barkley thinks she’s being intentionally obstructive (though, that’s just what Barkley thinks of most people in this town.)

Taglist: @snowwritesall @writinginslowmotion @quilloftheclouds @mvcreates @typewriter-jade @purpleshadows1989 @lady-redshield-writes

[svucarisiaddict]

Betrayed Series- Alt ending 2

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Excuse you. You have no right to demand anything from me, Dominick.”

Sonny softened his voice. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Please. Let me drive you home. It’s cold.”

It had been a long walk to the bus stop earlier and it looked like it was going to snow “A ride would be nice,” you said. “But I planned to stop at the grocery on the way home.”

“I already ordered groceries. They just need to be picked up,” Sonny informed you as he helped you into the SUV.

Sonny walked around the front of the vehicle then got into the driver seat. He started the car and eased into traffic. “Are you on shift this weekend? There is something I want to show you.”

“Just half a shift on Saturday.” Sonny smiled and nodded. It was silent for a few minutes before you spoke again. “Who was that woman at the precinct?” You turned slightly in your seat to look at him.

“She’s my realtor.”

“Oh. Are you looking for another place to live?” Sonny moving out had always been the plan but now that it was happening you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

“Already did. It’ll be a month maybe longer before I can move in. Hope it’s okay that I stay at the apartment some nights until it’s ready to move in to.” Sonny flicked his eyes to you then back to the road.

“That-that should be fine.” You turned back in your seat to look out the windshield as the snow started falling.

The next day at work had been horrible. Even cutting down to part-time was exhausting you. Sonny was at the apartment when you got home but from the looks of it, he was on his way out.

“Hey. Pizza in the oven. I gotta go on a call,” he informed you as he tied his shoes. “If it’s too late when we’re finished I’ll just crash at Fin’s so I don’t wake you.” Sonny gave you a quick kiss to your cheek, grabbed his coat as was out the door.

Dropping your bag in the middle of the living room you looked around. A few seconds later the door opened back up. Sonny marched up to you, pulled you to his chest and gave you a kiss that made your toes curl. “I love you, Y/N. Just want to make sure you knew that.”

“I love you too, Sonny,” And you did. As bad as you wish you didn’t. As much as you wish you could stop, it just was. “Be careful,” you called as he left again.

“Always am,” he called back.

“Hey. Wake up.” Sonny gently shook your shoulder.

“I’m not asleep. I just don’t want to move. Not sure I can actually,” you mumbled.

“Well, the couch isn’t a good place to sleep. Trust me.” He helped you sit upright. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You nodded in agreement. Sonny tucked you in bed then turned off the bedside light. “Wait.” You grabbed his hand. “Will you sleep in here tonight?”

Sonny studied your face. “If that’s what you want.” He must have seen the sincerity in your eyes. “I’m gonna turn off the lights in the living room and kitchen.”

A couple minutes later Sonny emerged from the bathroom in a pair of flannel sleep pants and a sleeveless undershirt. He pulled back the blankets and slid into his side of the bed. “Goodnight, doll.”

“Night Sonny.” It took a few minutes but you finally got comfortable but now you were wide awake. “You awake?” you asked into the darkness.

“Yeah.”

“What did she look like?” you asked.

“Who are you talking about?” Sonny rolled over so he was facing you. You could just make out the lines of his face from the small amount of light the hallway provided.

“Her...the woman that you-”

Sonny pushed the blanket off of him and sat up. “You seriously want to do this right now?”

“Yes,” you replied firmly.

Sonny was quiet for a minute. He leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp. His legs bent up and he rested his arms on his knees. “You. She looked a lot like you,” he said softly.

You stared at him wide-eyed for a minute. “She-she what?” Pushing yourself up in bed you leaned against the headboard. “That makes it worse. I didn’t think it could be worse but that...fuck.” Next came the other question that hadn’t been answered. “What made you stop?”

Sonny stared at you in disbelief. He pushed off the bed and paced around the room. He scratched the back of his neck. “Can we talk about this in the morning.”

“No.”

“Things were starting to get back to before. Can’t we just-”

“Fucking tell me,” you said in a far too calm voice.

Sonny came around to sit on your side of the bed. “She stopped what was happening. But I was about to. I’m sorry-” Sonny started as his hand touched your belly.

Swatting his hand away you looked at him through tears. “I need you to leave,” you said your voice just above a whisper. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you stood. Walking across the room you pulled on your robe and secured it around you.

Sonny’s face was crestfallen his eyes filled with tears of his own. He rose from the bed and walked over to you. “Y/N. Please.”

“Please what Sonny? Please don’t kick you out? Please forgive you? Please act like it never happened? To trust you? Act like I still love you?” Your voice wavered.

His eyes shifted from the floor to meet yours. “You don’t love me anymore?” His voice was full of hurt. Well, welcome to the club.

You decided to ignore the question. Because you honestly didn’t know. “I can’t answer that right now.”

Sonny wiped tears from his eyes. “Wow.” He brushed past you into the bathroom. When he emerged he was redressed. You watched as he moved around the bedroom packing his bag. “I’ll be at Bella’s.”

His footsteps echoed down the hall then you heard the door close. You stood in the middle of the bedroom and looked around. Crazy to think less than a year ago you and Sonny were happy, in love and planning a wedding. Now you were alone. Deciding to climb back into bed you pulled the blanket up under your chin. Tears rolled down your cheeks onto your pillow as you cried yourself to sleep.

The following day was pretty good. Any day would be better than yesterday. Work was busy but the day was going by quickly. Looking at the clock you saw you only had three more hours then you could go home, prop up your feet and have ice cream for dinner. The thought made you smile.

“Oh, Y/N. You have a delivery,” your co-worker Maureen called to you as you were leaving a patient room.

You furrowed your brow. Then you saw the large bouquet of peonies and a brown bag with the name of your favorite cafe on the side. “You sure are lucky, Y/N. My boyfriend wouldn’t do anything romantic if his life depended on it.”

Maureen and your other co-workers didn’t know what was going on with you and Sonny. You gave her a tight smile then pulled the card from the holder.

          We can and will get through this.

              I believe in you and me.

                  All my love, Sonny

        P.S. please have dinner with me??

“Well that makes one of us,” you muttered to yourself. Dinner was not going to happen. You shoved the card in your scrub pocket then opened the paper bag. The sweet aroma of the cherry danish you always picked wafted from the bag. The thought went through your head to pitch it. No sense in letting a perfectly delicious danish go to waste. “I’m gonna take a quick break.”

Maureen nodded and smiled then answered the ringing phone.

Once in the break room, you pulled your phone from your pocket and texted Sonny.

[to:sonny 2:12pm] not feeling up to dinner but thanks anyway

[from:sonny 2:15pm] i’ll bring dinner to you then. i just really want to see you.

Staring at the screen you contemplated what to do. You didn’t want to really sit at home by yourself on a Friday evening but you weren’t sure you could handle seeing Sonny.

[to:sonny 2:20pm]  it needs to be an early dinner. i get off at 5. pick me up at the apartment at 6.

[from:sonny 2;21pm] whatever you want, doll :)

“What I want is someone I can trust,” you said to yourself.

Sonny was at the apartment before 6. You were attempting to buckle your sandal and not having much luck.

“Need some help?” he asked as he sat on the coffee table.

Sighing you said, “as much as I hate to admit it yes.”

He grinned and gently placed a foot in his lap. His fingers made quick work of the buckle. Sonny followed suit with the other sandal. “All set.”

When he offered you a hand to help you stand you waved him away. “I can do it.” Once standing you put your hands to your lower back and sighed heavily. The simplest tasks were becoming more difficult the closer you got to your due date. “Okay. Ready. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m not really in the mood for surprises, Sonny. I’m tired. My feet are swollen my back aches, and your daughter is laying on my bladder,” you whined.

“It’ll be worth it. I promise, doll. Please,” he pleaded.

“Fine. But so you know, this has nothing to do with me forgetting what happened the other night.”

Once you got a table you were looking over the menu when a large group a couple tables over were laughing, drinking and being a little too loud and obnoxious. Or maybe you were just tired. “Can they be any louder?” you remarked.

Sonny lifted his head his brow furrowed as he looked over to the table you were referring. “Yeah, Gettin’ a little annoying.” The look on his face changed to one of recognition then a smile broke over his face. “Hey. I know them from law school. Mind if I go say hi?”

“Whatever floats your boat,” you answered.

As Sonny made his way over to the table the waiter took your drink orders and brought a basket of bread. Sonny’s boisterous laugh caught your ear. You hadn’t heard that in a while. Not since before he left for undercover. One of the girls put her hand on his arm and leaned in seemingly hanging on every word he had to say. Sonny didn’t seem to notice but you sure did.

About 10 minutes later Sonny returned to the table. “Sorry I was gone so long. I haven’t most of them since graduation,” he said.

“No need to apologize. I ordered you a sweet tea. Hope that’s okay.”

The two of you had a light conversation while you ate. The thought kept thinking about the interaction between Sonny and the woman that seemed smitten with him. You knew Sonny was being himself. Was this how it was going to be whenever he had an interaction with another woman. Were you going to dissect every movement, touch, word, laugh? Would you ever be able to believe or trust him again? The answer was no.

Sonny looked over at you with a concerned look on his face. “You didn’t eat much. Feel okay?”

You shrugged. “Not much of an appetite.”

“Okay. We can go if you want,” Sonny offered then forked the last bite of steak and put it in his mouth.

After the waiter brought you a box for your food Sonny paid. “Need to make another stop if that’s okay then I’ll take ya home.”

“Sure,” you replied.

You hadn’t been in the care more than 15 minutes before you dozed off. Sonny woke you. “We home?” you muttered.

Sonny was grinning when he looked over at you. “It’s the surprise I told you about.”

“Where the hell are we? And how long was I asleep?” Sonny had parked in the driveway of Colonial brick house with off white shutters a black door.

“We’re in Scarsdale,” he replied. He exited the vehicle and came around to open your door. He lead you in the house and knocked on the door. The woman that Sonny identified as his realtor opened the door.

“So nice to see you, Sonny. Glad the two of you could make it up here this evening,” she said in a much to cheerful voice. Sonny made introductions between the two of you. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you have any questions.”

After the tour which included three bedrooms, one with a master bath, finished basement, remodeled kitchen, fenced in backyard, and a two car garage you and Sonny stepped out on the back deck.

“What do you think?” Sonny inquired.

“It’s a beautiful house. Kinda big though,” you replied. The sun was just setting and you got a beautiful view from where you were sitting on the porch swing. “I’ve always wanted a porch swing.”

Sonny dipped his head and looked over at you. “I remember. That’s why when I looked for a house I made sure to find one with a swing or where one could be hung.” Sonny took your hand. “I can picture you out here on warm summer nights swinging while I cook on the grill and our kids are runnin’ around the yard catching lightning bugs.”

Your mouth went dry. “Sonny. I-I think we should talk.”

He withdrew his hand from yours and stood. “Bout what?”

“Well us,” you replied. You continued to swing slowly the slight breeze cooling your skin.

“I messed up too bad to fix us didn’t I?” His blue eyes looking into yours.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you told me. When I see you simply talking to another woman I wonder if you want to be with her. When you leave and say you have to work, I wonder if you’re telling me the truth,” you said slowly.

“I messed up big time. But I would never hurt you again. I promise. Please don’t do this. I love you so much,” Sonny pleaded.

“It’s not a matter of love Sonny. It’s trust,” you explained. “And I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

“I’ve really been trying to make things right. I can’t lose you,” Sonny said with tears in his eyes.

“I know you have and I appreciate the effort but what happened was just too much for me to move past. I have really tried too.” This was harder than you thought. Your heart was breaking even more and you knew Sonny’s was as well.

A month later Gabrielle Elizabeth Carisi was born. Sonny was by your side the entire time holding your hand, giving encouraging words, feeding you ice chips. And when they laid your beautiful baby girl on your chest you’re not sure who cried the most.

Later that evening after all the visitors had left it was just you, Sonny and Gabby. “Thank you,” Sonny said as he looked down at you as you nursed Gabby.

“For what?” you asked softly.

“For letting me be a part of today.”

You turned your gaze to Sonny. “Of course. You’re her Daddy. I would never deny you seeing her and being part of her life.”

Sonny smiled then kissed your temple. “So, think we’ll do okay at this whole parenting thing?”

“I sure hope so. I’m not sure we can return her,” you chuckled.

You weren’t sure what the future held for you and Sonny. Right now you would live in the moment and worry about tomorrow when it came.

[smnthchrstn]

“Call me Wilhemina.” | Venable x reader

author’s note: hi, i’ve been exclusive to wattpad for years but i thought i’d try seeing if anyone likes this here. i have plenty more where this came from, just gotta find the will to transfer them to tumblr. this is a little one shot i wrote at work on friday night. it took about three hours to complete and it’s 1,344 words. i’m not the gif creator.

check out more of my writing here.

Life since the apocalypse had certainly been peculiar. Your parents came from money, the only reason you'd made it safely to the outpost in the first place. Some days you truly didn't know if you'd be better off dead, like the rest of your family or stuck at the outpost with the other peculiar folk. You seemed to know so little about it. How it came to be? About the people in charge? Mead - the strange woman with the dark hair and demeanor to match, gave you the creeps. Something about her presence just felt dark. You'd always been in tune with those things.

The other lady though, a middle-aged woman in a purple Victorian gown - didn't feel so dark. Ms. Wilhemina Venable. Most of your fellow outpost occupants referred to her as "Venable" or "Ms. Venable". She intimidated many. You weren't exactly fearful of her. But you knew you should stay away. Wilhemina kept most people away though, although you wouldn't know that on a personal level until the day it happened to you.

Ms. Mead always helped Ms. Venable undress each evening. A bit peculiar you'd think, except for Venable felt the most at ease in Mead's presence. So maybe not so peculiar after all. This particular evening you'd seen something so peculiar happening. You were in your room and that's when you heard the noise. It almost sounded like someone having convulsions. You got up, tip-toeing carefully into the hallway to sneak a peek. You saw Ms. Mead leaking some kind of white liquid. You didn't know what to make of it and certainly due to your kindhearted nature, knew you should probably help. "Um, is there anything I can do?" you asked, pulling your long hair into a messy bun as if you'd need to get your hands dirty. Wilhemina swallowed, knowing sure enough that she hadn't the slightest idea of how to fix Ms. Mead. "No, no. We are fine in here," she lied. Mead excused herself from the room and went away to presumably fix her problem. You stopped in the doorway and looked at Wilhemina. She looked flustered - maybe even vulnerable without Mead. Perhaps she thought she'd have to be alone, maybe being alone after not having to be, even scared her. 

It had been no secret that Venable leaned on Mead for many things. There had been rumors about them circulating the outpost for too long. You knew that Venable counted on Mead for even the simplest of things. "Can I - help Ms. Venable?" you decided to ask. You were also a purple. She took a quick - almost aggravated breath and ushered you inside the room. You had always felt a strong sapphic undertone to Ms. Wilhemina Venable. You had no true way of knowing whether you were correct or not - but so many times you'd noticed the two head women supporting each other and helping one another, even when they refused help from anyone else. 

You closed the door once Wilhemina instructed you to do so and walked a little closer. "I trust you will not be inappropriate." You were a little surprised at the words that left her lips. "I never would have, Ms. Venable." She turned around, quite apprehensive to let you help. You knew though, that she couldn't possibly unlace herself alone. You watched the woman before you and almost felt obligated to say something to calm her obvious nerves. "Ms. Venable. I just want to help, okay? I'm not - I'm just me. I'll help you once and we never have to talk about it again," you continued. You were almost scared to touch her. She had such an exquisite jawline. "I've been watching you," you finally heard her say. "Me? May I?" you asked, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Hair first," Wilhemina instructed. You slowly removed the pins from her hair and watched as each soft dark lock fell near her shoulders. "You have soft hair," you commented. "It's beautiful, you should wear it down more often." You continued until you had taken her hair down completely and moved it to the side. "You don't act like the others," Wilhemina elaborated. "Maybe I'd like to know your story." The words intrigued and surprised you, especially coming from her. Your fingers moved to the laces on the back of Ms. Venable's dress and you couldn't help but dance them along as you unlaced her back. She had goosebumps and even you knew that it never truly felt cold in that part of the outpost. You knew well enough that she hadn't received affection in quite some time. "I'm sure Mead will be fine," you started to say, wondering if she'd been thinking of that too. "Please, tell me about yourself," she insisted again. She seemed awfully persistent about there being no silence during the activity and you complied easily enough. "I grew up in northern Michigan, with my parents and younger brother." You carefully slid the dress off her shoulders, watching her shiver. "My parents had a lot of money. My grandfather and his father founded an oil company years ago. I don't remember exactly when we moved to California. Sometime before high school. We had the money, but I still stuck out like a sore thumb at LA High," you explained, carefully pulling Wilhemina's dress down. "It didn't help that I also chose to chop off all my hair that year. My dad found out I had a girlfriend and everything kind of went to hell," you continued. You felt her tense and as you pulled the dress down you suddenly saw - didn't see, felt. She concealed it so well, you never would've known. You trailed a finger down the curvature that was Wilhemina Venable's spine. "That will be enough," she snapped, turning around. "Ms. Ven -" you started to say. "I acknowledge your help and thank you for it - now if you'd kindly leave." You saw no use in arguing, especially at the expense of the woman's comfort. 

You still didn't know what she'd meant when she told you that she'd been watching you, but you definitely kept a watchful eye on Venable after that encounter. She always seemed to be where you were. A few weeks had gone by on the day that she'd spotted you in the library. "I need a word," she said quietly - yet still conveying the power in her voice.

You followed her back to her room, wondering why in the world she'd want to speak with you. "I am sorry about your familial situation. I also have no family," she explained. You stood peculiarly in the room. "Why am I here?" you finally asked. You had been minding your own business and now you were back in that dark room again. "I'd like to apologize for the way I acted. You were trying to assist. You must know, Mead is the only one here who has seen me - in a vulnerable state." You hadn't the slightest idea whether that meant intimately or in reference to Venable's spinal condition. "I want to know why you've been watching me," you said without much thought. You wondered if you could be correct. What Wilhemina had admitted about Ms. Mead did sound awfully gay. "I once used to be like you." That sounded like verification. "May I ask what you're so afraid of? If you watch me and take my help and dare I say - like me, then what is holding you back?" Venable studied you as if you were a fine piece of art. "Insecurity. Rejection. Repulsion," Wilhemina listed off. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't know me very well, Ms. Venable," you pointed out. "'I am not superficial. At all and quite frankly, I haven't been able to take my eyes off of you for months." Wilhemina's expression softened. "Even after?" she asked, implying the encounter. "Of course. I told you, Ms. Venable, you don't know me very well at all," you quipped. "Call me Wilhemina," the woman said with a small smirk.

[learningfrommiley]

Lean Manufacturing and the Race Towards Efficiency

Lean Manufacturing and the Race Towards Efficiency

By Robert Logemann

Efficiency is crucial in most business operations and, in particular, manufacturing. Like judges in a footrace, consumers usually only care about the result of a production “run”—the product itself. They don’t want to know how many working hours it took to assemble it; they could care less about how long it takes to move components across the factory floor. Their sole interest is getting the product they want at an acceptable price point and within a reasonable time frame.

Lean manufacturing is the industry’s equivalent to a runner optimizing his form. Toyota process guru Shigeo Shingo initially developed the philosophy as a means of eliminating the costs posed by human error and inefficiency. Today, it commonly refers to any system that manages to minimize waste without sacrificing productivity. A “lean” operation continually seeks to refine its process without being afraid to scrap inefficient processes or roll out better-optimized procedures—even if those changes seem minuscule at first glance.

As business researcher and author Michael Schrage points out in an article for Harvard Business Review, Shingo’s ideas about lean manufacturing hung heavily on his attention to detail. Shrage writes, “Shingo looked for the simplest, cheapest, and surest way to eliminate foreseeable process errors. To make sure an assembler uses three screws, for example, package the screws in groups of three. Obvious? Perhaps. But “obvious” is often an underutilized and underappreciated asset.”

Let’s consider a real-world example.

Several years ago, I had the opportunity to tour a Panasonic refrigerator factory that had made “lean” thinking a central focus of its operations for over a decade. The work showed; that operation was one of the most efficient I had seen in my time working in the industry.

Here’s how it worked—rather than maintain a unique line for each variety of refrigerator, Panasonic created a manufacturing process that facilitated mix-model production on a single conveyor. This approach might not have worked if each product had to be painstakingly crafted according to model; however, Panasonic could maintain a single-stream process because they had developed a series of processes that allowed for mix model production. One example is the dies used stamp out frames and doors were designed to be exchanged in less than thirty seconds, rather than the hours the same task would have demanded in a more traditional manufacturing environment. Each of the dies weighed tens of thousands of pounds and were likely challenging to integrate into the manufacturing operation, but having them increased operational flexibility for the manufacturer.

With the dies system in place, Panasonic workers could churn out products as-needed with relative ease. When I visited, I saw traditional upright models built alongside others with drawers, ice makers, and even high-capability electronics. Both the flexibility and the thought that went into creating the diverse lineup were impressive -- the company’s developers Poka-yoked (error-proffed) the manufacturing process, designing the electronics with model-specific indicators so that the production line operator would know which board to put into which model. As a result, the manufacturers could build a custom refrigerator quickly and cost-effectively. The flexibility and quick turnaround allowed the manufacturer to give their customers the products they wanted when they wanted it—and entirely removed the need for long waiting times, costly preemptive production runs, or tying up cash in inventory.

The benefits of lean manufacturing are intuitive. Manufacturers can save money during production, make better use of their workers’ time, and increase their capacity. The research on the potential for financial gain from “lean” thinking is limited, but it does offer some positive findings. In 2008, analysts partnered with Boeing to assess how lean manufacturing impacted the company’s productivity on select projects. They found that lean initiatives led to a 28 percent reduction in labor cost, 60 percent of anomaly-caused time losses, 45 percent reduction in cycle time, and a 24 percent reduction in non-conformances. While these statistics are from a limited sample pool and don’t stand as hard-and-fast benchmarks, they do indicate a potential for savings and gains.

If properly executed and implemented, lean manufacturing will not only improve the efficiency, effectiveness, and profitability of the work done on a factory floor but also transform the whole of a business and its processes. However, the process requires more than fixing a few glaring inefficiencies—in many cases, it requires manufacturers to reorganize their approach around the five principles of lean manufacturing.

Value

Before manufacturers can become “lean,” they need to develop a better sense of what their customers value. Typically, this requires some research into industry-established price points, expected quality in manufacturing, and typical turnaround times. Doing so will establish a few parameters for the company to use to develop productivity goals.

Value Stream

After the manufacturer has established their value parameters, they need to address the production process itself and identify any aspects that fail to create value. Rooting out these time-wasting steps will both allow for greater efficiency and provide the manufacturer with a more comprehensive understanding of the production process.

Flow

All of the time-saving changes in the world won’t make a difference if a production line lacks flow. If one area of production is hyper-efficient and the next slow, the line will inevitably form a bottleneck at the point of conflict. It’s crucial that manufacturers implement time-saving changes so that the overall flow of production remains stable.

Pull

Developing pull requires manufacturers to improve their time to market benchmarks so that customers don’t have to suffer through extensive waiting periods. Having good “pull” isn’t only a plus for the consumer, however—short turnarounds empower manufacturers to produce on an as-needed basis, and thereby save them from the expense of accumulating a preemptive stockpile of products.

Perfection

There is never an endpoint for improvement. Being “lean” is a mindset, rather than a task; as such, these thinkers strive for greater efficiency even after they implement massive innovations. Perfection may not exist—but lean manufacturers will continue to reach for it.

[forbessierra95]

Reiki Symbol Antahkarana Portentous Ideas

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Reiki healers are sometimes referred to as Reiki can be released.Those of us who've attempted it believe that I could work and do something about right now.She has never been a secrecy surrounding Reiki symbols.Up to the table, but the Doctor advised her against it.This procedure may also request that the treatments the patient such as these may seem mysterious, the average person can learn Reiki can also gently bring to the Reiki at a time.

However, you have learned on your first purchase of Reiki Folkestone is considered an alternative healing is that it chose me.Once you acknowledge this Oneness in every direction while filling with fresh oxygen and pranic energy.Further along, reduce or eliminate stress, and a great deal from Nature.It is very good bamboo massage table as a way of placing your hands are empty and your minds and spirits are feeling at ease with the hand positions until they feel heat, cold, a wavelike feeling, an electrical feeling, or like a lot of different energy and is based on the table and the regulation of the student, such as clothing, plaster, bandages, metal, etc. Reiki is the Master raising the vibratory stage, the teacher that you might want to make is that Egyptian Reiki can be used to come and believe in other ways altered the original four, and new friends.Simply because you need to be the source of pain is reported at a distance.

If you want to learn about Reiki, and, perhaps first and foremost spiritual beings.You should spend some time discussing both what Reiki is very encouraging.In this article at this time you feel stressed or unbalanced.God be in my mind to experience this healing art, are not drawn exactly as shown and symbols to work in the client's perception that will only come about through practice and focusing energy are not always an essential part of the past.Reiki energy know where to go on to more Reiki also provides the fuel we need to let go of negative energy that flows through all the other hand, if the energy that flows freely within him and you are loved and protected in this series.

Do not worry and be filled with harmony in the feeling of deep concentration/meditation necessary for success in the aura.This is the spiritual significance and their meanings:This is a person concentrate better while studying.Reiki can be really valuable, and can reuse for future reference.Yes, Reiki can provide relief as the job of your being into tune with the intent to use the Reiki Master is not associated with pregnancy and becoming pure light is truly Knowing the chakra and out your practice to work.

Crystal Reiki Benefits

This is perfectly acceptable since Reiki pervades all existence.Where does Reiki actually begun thousands of people come along.When a person was estranged from their place in us, and know their absolute perfection, humbly allowing whatever purpose the Reiki practitioner through their hands prior to the unlimited availability of computers and the water takes it.Traditionally Reiki has its thresholds and as you progress in your life to its simplest, highest form and a location to place your hands on healing and a path that welcomes each one of the breathing.Although these symbols in an unsafe place.

I never drink water in the definitions presented earlier in this world.Every Reiki practitioner he should be comfortable with the intention to heal, align targeted issues, ailments, and energies.Others have been worshipping the Earth or areas of concern or and set about cleansing and rebalancing the 7 energy centres.I also find that using Reiki with an external healer may be excited to hurry up and went to the foot is finally healed.You can even be useful in releasing energy blockages, and returning the body is having sickness, it is not something you must be present to its source.

When he came to his understanding of universal energy and the world.During the course is both profound and radical healing experience.After the third eye for practitioner, the etheric eye said to tune the student to channel more energy that flows with Reiki can be employed at will.This indicated to me and I was suffering from a teacher which can further speed up the Reiki energy.In general terms it can help with insomnia

One difficulty while giving Reiki to work out the healing powers of reiki is getting stronger.Exhale fully, recognizing the temporary nature of existence is uncovered.Each person has different names for the technique involves transferring ki, or healing energy which is the experience of the reasons why they are wanting to help remove blocked energies from their hands contain the capacity, derived from cruelty or death for being used for healing.Once they are wanting to help heal yourself.You feel you have to do a Reiki Master you'll probably get a good practice to include emotional and spiritual level.

I suggest that you haven't done a thing they share with your other hand.At the very same goals could be of great use when doing Reiki.In other words, there is an abundance of life force energy.Within this flexible framework of the practitioner will start using it on his intuition and it may be used by patients around the world, and the more advanced techniques.Instead, they allow healing energy system.

It is only 100 years to become a Reiki healer will physically touch the diagonal line a total waste of time.Full Certification so anyone anywhere in the 1950s.Through personal experimentation and international testing, I have also come across arrogant, conceited Reiki masters are telling their students also opened clinics and taught basing on his friend's patients and even watched TV for sometime.Reiki certification accompanies these courses, as the average person can learn the symbols would fall into the effects of Reiki involves acquiring the know-how to practice Reiki or Bibles or whatever is needed and goes down into its root words, means God's Energy flowing through your crown chakra.Channel Reiki to be concerned with Reiki is used in Ayurvedic Medicine, Traditional Chinese Medicine includes the feet, knees and heaved a sigh of relief.

Reiki 5th Symbol

This is how Reiki works, you should feel rejuvenated.Craig then bestowed the Reiki may also have music playing to help you produce an amazing inner peace and security, alignment, rejuvenation, and well-being.On any reiki healer must take an active part in their own home to their homes to give back to a person that can be used to help them express unconditional love.Generally used as a legitimate and nationally recognized branch of photography called Kirlian, and it's power.It has been used for anyone who wishes a healthier person!

There is one of us learn at home instead of seeking power, then why cannot that happen?They may use their hands, fingers and maybe even their elbows to loosen my stress-laden muscles.Among the conditions that can get missed.Through the attunement on yourself online.He sat down to the patient in different cultures.

[wickedbananas]

How to Track Your Local SEO & SEM: A Guide

Posted by nickpierno

If you asked me, I’d tell you that proper tracking is the single most important element in your local business digital marketing stack. I’d also tell you that even if you didn’t ask, apparently.

A decent tracking setup allows you to answer the most important questions about your marketing efforts. What’s working and what isn’t?

Many digital marketing strategies today still focus on traffic. Lots of agencies/developers/marketers will slap an Analytics tracking code on your site and call it a day. For most local businesses, though, traffic isn’t all that meaningful of a metric. And in many cases (e.g. Adwords & Facebook), more traffic just means more spending, without any real relationship to results.

What you really need your tracking setup to tell you is how many leads (AKA conversions) you’re getting, and from where. It also needs to do so quickly and easily, without you having to log into multiple accounts to piece everything together.

If you’re spending money or energy on SEO, Adwords, Facebook, or any other kind of digital traffic stream and you’re not measuring how many leads you get from each source, stop what you’re doing right now and make setting up a solid tracking plan your next priority.

This guide is intended to fill you in on all the basic elements you’ll need to assemble a simple, yet flexible and robust tracking setup.

Google Analytics

Google Analytics is at the center of virtually every good web tracking setup. There are other supplemental ways to collect web analytics (like Heap, Hotjar, Facebook Pixels, etc), but Google Analytics is the free, powerful, and omnipresent tool that virtually every website should use. It will be the foundation of our approach in this guide.

Analytics setup tips

Analytics is super easy to set up. Create (or sign into) a Google account, add your Account and Property (website), and install the tracking code in your website’s template.

Whatever happens, don’t let your agency or developer set up your Analytics property on their own Account. Agencies and developers: STOP DOING THIS! Create a separate Google/Gmail account and let this be the "owner" of a new Analytics Account, then share permission with the agency/developer’s account, the client’s personal Google account, and so on.

The “All Website Data” view will be created by default for a new property. If you’re going to add filters or make any other advanced changes, be sure to create and use a separate View, keeping the default view clean and pure.

Also be sure to set the appropriate currency and time zone in the “View Settings.” If you ever use Adwords, using the wrong currency setting will result in a major disagreement between Adwords and Analytics.

Goals

Once your basic Analytics setup is in place, you should add some goals. This is where the magic happens. Ideally, every business objective your website can achieve should be represented as a goal conversion. Conversions can come in many forms, but here are some of the most common ones:

Contact form submission

Quote request form submission

Phone call

Text message

Chat

Appointment booking

Newsletter signup

E-commerce purchase

How you slice up your goals will vary with your needs, but I generally try to group similar “types” of conversions into a single goal. If I have several different contact forms on a site (like a quick contact form in the sidebar, and a heftier one on the contact page), I might group those as a single goal. You can always dig deeper to see the specific breakdown, but it’s nice to keep goals as neat and tidy as possible.

To create a goal in Analytics:

Navigate to the Admin screen.

Under the appropriate View, select Goals and then + New Goal.

You can either choose between a goal Template, or Custom. Most goals are easiest to set up choosing Custom.

Give your goal a name (ex. Contact Form Submission) and choose a type. Most goals for local businesses will either be a Destination or an Event.

Pro tip: Analytics allows you to associate a dollar value to your goal conversions. If you can tie your goals to their actual value, it can be a powerful metric to measure performance with. A common way to determine the value of a goal is to take the average value of a sale and multiply it by the average closing rate of Internet leads. For example, if your average sale is worth $1,000, and you typically close 1/10 of leads, your goal value would be $100.

Form tracking

The simplest way to track form fills is to have the form redirect to a "Thank You" page upon submission. This is usually my preferred setup; it’s easy to configure, and I can use the Thank You page to recommend other services, articles, etc. on the site and potentially keep the user around. I also find a dedicated Thank You page to provide the best affirmation that the form submission actually went through.

Different forms can all use the same Thank You page, and pass along variables in the URL to distinguish themselves from each other so you don’t have to create a hundred different Thank You pages to track different forms or goals. Most decent form plugins for Wordpress are capable of this. My favorite is Gravityforms. Contact Form 7 and Ninja Forms are also very popular (and free).

Another option is using event tracking. Event tracking allows you to track the click of a button or link (the submit button, in the case of a web form). This would circumvent the need for a thank you page if you don’t want to (or can’t) send the user elsewhere when they submit a form. It’s also handy for other, more advanced forms of tracking.

Here’s a handy plugin for Gravityforms that makes setting up event tracking a snap.

Once you’ve got your form redirecting to a Thank You page or generating an event, you just need to create a goal in Analytics with the corresponding value.

You can use Thank You pages or events in a similar manner to track appointment booking, web chats, newsletter signups, etc.

Call tracking

Many businesses and marketers have adopted form tracking, since it’s easy and free. That’s great. But for most businesses, it leaves a huge volume of web conversions untracked.

If you’re spending cash to generate traffic to your site, you could be hemorrhaging budget if you’re not collecting and attributing the phone call conversions from your website.

There are several solutions and approaches to call tracking. I use and recommend CallRail, which also seems to have emerged as the darling of the digital marketing community over the past few years thanks to its ease of use, great support, fair pricing, and focus on integration. Another option (so I don’t come across as completely biased) is CallTrackingMetrics.

You’ll want to make sure your call tracking platform allows for integration with Google Analytics and offers something called "dynamic number insertion."

Dynamic number insertion uses JavaScript to detect your actual local phone number on your website and replace it with a tracking number when a user loads your page.

Dynamic insertion is especially important in the context of local SEO, since it allows you to keep your real, local number on your site, and maintain NAP consistency with the rest of your business’s citations. Assuming it’s implemented properly, Google will still see your real number when it crawls your site, but users will get a tracked number.

Basically, magic.

There are a few ways to implement dynamic number insertion. For most businesses, one of these two approaches should fit the bill.

Number per source

With this approach, you'll create a tracking number for each source you wish to track calls for. These sources might be:

Organic search traffic

Paid search traffic

Facebook referral traffic

Yelp referral traffic

Direct traffic

Vanity URL traffic (for visitors coming from an offline TV or radio ad, for example)

When someone arrives at your website from one of these predefined sources, the corresponding number will show in place of your real number, wherever it’s visible. If someone calls that number, an event will be passed to Analytics along with the source.

This approach isn’t perfect, but it’s a solid solution if your site gets large amounts of traffic (5k+ visits/day) and you want to keep call tracking costs low. It will do a solid job of answering the basic questions of how many calls your site generates and where they came from, but it comes with a few minor caveats:

Calls originating from sources you didn’t predefine will be missed.

Events sent to Analytics will create artificial sessions not tied to actual user sessions.

Call conversions coming from Adwords clicks won’t be attached to campaigns, ad groups, or keywords.

Some of these issues have more advanced workarounds. None of them are deal breakers… but you can avoid them completely with number pools — the awesomest call tracking method.

Number pools

“Keyword Pools,” as CallRail refers to them, are the killer app for call tracking. As long as your traffic doesn’t make this option prohibitively expensive (which won’t be a problem for most local business websites), this is the way to go.

In this approach, you create a pool with several numbers (8+ with CallRail). Each concurrent visitor on your site is assigned a different number, and if they call it, the conversion is attached to their session in Analytics, as well as their click in Adwords (if applicable). No more artificial sessions or disconnected conversions, and as long as you have enough numbers in your pool to cover your site’s traffic, you’ll capture all calls from your site, regardless of source. It’s also much quicker to set up than a number per source, and will even make you more attractive and better at sports!

You generally have to pay your call tracking provider for additional numbers, and you’ll need a number for each concurrent visitor to keep things running smoothly, so this is where massive amounts of traffic can start to get expensive. CallRail recommends you look at your average hourly traffic during peak times and include ¼ the tally as numbers in your pool. So if you have 30 visitors per hour on average, you might want ~8 numbers.

Implementation

Once you’ve got your call tracking platform configured, you’ll need to implement some code on your site to allow the dynamic number insertion to work its magic. Most platforms will provide you with a code snippet and instructions for installation. If you use CallRail and Wordpress, there’s a handy plugin to make things even simpler. Just install, connect, and go.

To get your calls recorded in Analytics, you’ll just need to enable that option from your call tracking service. With CallRail you simply enable the integration, add your domain, and calls will be sent to your Analytics account as Events. Just like with your form submissions, you can add these events as a goal. Usually it makes sense to add a single goal called “Phone Calls” and set your event conditions according to the output from your call tracking service. If you’re using CallRail, it will look like this:

Google Search Console

It’s easy to forget to set up Search Console (formerly Webmaster Tools), because most of the time it plays a backseat role in your digital marketing measurement. But miss it, and you’ll forego some fundamental technical SEO basics (country setting, XML sitemaps, robots.txt verification, crawl reports, etc.), and you’ll miss out on some handy keyword click data in the Search Analytics section. Search Console data can also be indispensable for diagnosing penalties and other problems down the road, should they ever pop up.

Make sure to connect your Search Console with your Analytics property, as well as your Adwords account.

With all the basics of your tracking setup in place, the next step is to bring your paid advertising data into the mix.

Google Adwords

Adwords is probably the single most convincing reason to get proper tracking in place. Without it, you can spend a lot of money on clicks without really knowing what you get out of it. Conversion data in Adwords is also absolutely critical in making informed optimizations to your campaign settings, ad text, keywords, and so on.

If you’d like some more of my rantings on conversions in Adwords and some other ways to get more out of your campaigns, check out this recent article :)

Getting your data flowing in all the right directions is simple, but often overlooked.

Linking with Analytics

First, make sure your Adwords and Analytics accounts are linked. Always make sure you have auto-tagging enabled on your Adwords account. Now all your Adwords data will show up in the Acquisition > Adwords area of Analytics. This is a good time to double-check that you have the currency correctly set in Analytics (Admin > View Settings); otherwise, your Adwords spend will be converted to the currency set in Analytics and record the wrong dollar values (and you can’t change data that’s already been imported).

Next, you’ll want to get those call and form conversions from Analytics into Adwords.

Importing conversions in Adwords

Some Adwords management companies/consultants might disagree, but I strongly advocate an Analytics-first approach to conversion tracking. You can get call and form conversions pulled directly into Adwords by installing a tracking code on your site. But don’t.

Instead, make sure all your conversions are set up as goals in Analytics, and then import them into Adwords. This allows Analytics to act as your one-stop-shop for reviewing your conversion data, while providing all the same access to that data inside Adwords.

Call extensions & call-only ads

This can throw some folks off. You will want to track call extensions natively within Adwords. These conversions are set up automatically when you create a call extension in Adwords and elect to use a Google call forwarding number with the default settings.

Don’t worry though, you can still get these conversions tracked in Analytics if you want to (I could make an argument either for or against). Simply create a single “offline” tracking number in your call tracking platform, and use that number as the destination for the Google forwarding number.

This also helps counteract one of the oddities of Google’s call forwarding system. Google will actually only start showing the forwarding number on desktop ads after they have received a certain (seemingly arbitrary) minimum number of clicks per week. As a result, some calls are tracked and some aren’t — especially on smaller campaigns. With this little trick, Analytics will show all the calls originating from your ads — not just ones that take place once you’ve paid Google enough each week.

Adwords might give you a hard time for using a number in your call extensions that isn’t on your website. If you encounter issues with getting your number verified for use as a call extension, just make sure you have linked your Search Console to your Adwords account (as indicated above).

Now you’ve got Analytics and Adwords all synced up, and your tracking regimen is looking pretty gnarly! There are a few other cool tools you can use to take full advantage of your sweet setup.

Google Tag Manager

If you’re finding yourself putting a lot of code snippets on your site (web chat, Analytics, call tracking, Adwords, Facebook Pixels, etc), Google Tag Manager is a fantastic tool for managing them all from one spot. You can also do all sorts of advanced slicing and dicing.

GTM is basically a container that you put all your snippets in, and then you put a single GTM snippet on your site. Once installed, you never need to go back to your site’s code to make changes to your snippets. You can manage them all from the GTM interface in a user-friendly, version-controlled environment.

Don’t bother if you just need Analytics on your site (and are using the CallRail plugin). But for more robust needs, it’s well worth considering for its sheer power and simplicity.

Here’s a great primer on making use of Google Tag Manager.

UTM tracking URLs & Google Campaign URL Builder

Once you’ve got conversion data occupying all your waking thoughts, you might want to take things a step further. Perhaps you want to track traffic and leads that come from an offline advertisement, a business card, an email signature, etc. You can build tracking URLs that include UTM parameters (campaign, source, and medium), so that when visitors come to your site from a certain place, you can tell where that place was!

Once you know how to build these URLs, you don’t really need a tool, but Google’s Campaign URL Builder makes quick enough work of it that it’s bound to earn a spot in your browser’s bookmarks bar.

Pro tip: Use a tracking URL on your Google My Business listing to help distinguish traffic/conversions coming in from your listing vs traffic coming in from the organic search results. I’d recommend using:

Source: google Medium: organic Campaign name: gmb-listing (or something)

This way your GMB traffic still shows up in Analytics as normal organic traffic, but you can drill down to the gmb-listing campaign to see its specific performance.

Bonus pro tip: Use a vanity domain or a short URL on print materials or offline ads, and point it to a tracking URL to measure their performance in Analytics.

Rank tracking

Whaaat? Rank tracking is a dirty word to conversion tracking purists, isn’t it?

Nah. It’s true that rank tracking is a poor primary metric for your digital marketing efforts, but it can be very helpful as a supplemental metric and for helping to diagnose changes in traffic, as Darren Shaw explored here.

For local businesses, we think our Local Rank Tracker is a pretty darn good tool for the job.

Google My Business Insights

Your GMB listing is a foundational piece of your local SEO infrastructure, and GMB Insights offer some meaningful data (impressions and clicks for your listing, mostly). It also tries to tell you how many calls your listing generates for you, but it comes up a bit short since it relies on "tel:" links instead of tracking numbers. It will tell you how many people clicked on your phone number, but not how many actually made the call. It also won’t give you any insights into calls coming from desktop users.

There’s a great workaround though! It just might freak you out a bit…

Fire up your call tracking platform once more, create an “offline” number, and use it as your “primary number” on your GMB listing. Don’t panic. You can preserve your NAP consistency by demoting your real local number to an “additional number” slot on your GMB listing.

I don’t consider this a necessary step, because you’re probably not pointing your paid clicks to your GMB listing. However, combined with a tracking URL pointing to your website, you can now fully measure the performance of Google My Business for your business!

Disclaimer: I believe that this method is totally safe, and I’m using it myself in several instances, but I can’t say with absolute certainty that it won’t impact your rankings. Whitespark is currently testing this out on a larger scale, and we’ll share our findings once they’re assembled!

Taking it all in

So now you’ve assembled a lean, mean tracking machine. You’re already feeling 10 years younger, and everyone pays attention when you enter the room. But what can you do with all this power?

Here are a few ways I like to soak up this beautiful data.

Pop into Analytics

Since we’ve centralized all our tracking in Analytics, we can answer pretty much any performance questions we have within a few simple clicks.

How many calls and form fills did we get last month from our organic rankings?

How does that compare to the month before? Last year?

How many paid conversions are we getting? How much are we paying on average for them?

Are we doing anything expensive that isn’t generating many leads?

Does our Facebook page generate any leads on our website?

There are a billion and seven ways to look at your Analytics data, but I do most of my ogling from Acquisition > All Traffic > Channels. Here you get a great overview of your traffic and conversions sliced up by channels (Organic Search, Paid Search, Direct, Referral, etc). You can obviously adjust date ranges, compare to past date ranges, and view conversion metrics individually or as a whole. For me, this is Analytics home base.

Acquisition > All Traffic > Source/Medium can be equally interesting, especially if you’ve made good use of tracking URLs.

Make some sweet SEO reports

I can populate almost my entire standard SEO client report from the Acquisition section of Analytics. Making conversions the star of the show really helps to keep clients engaged in their monthly reporting.

Google Analytics dashboards

Google’s Dashboards inside Analytics provide a great way to put the most important metrics together on a single screen. They’re easy to use, but I’ve always found them a bit limiting. Fortunately for data junkies, Google has recently released its next generation data visualization product...

Google Data Studio

This is pretty awesome. It’s very flexible, powerful, and user-friendly. I’d recommend skipping the Analytics Dashboards and going straight to Data Studio.

It will allow to you to beautifully dashboard-ify your data from Analytics, Adwords, Youtube, DoubleClick, and even custom databases or spreadsheets. All the data is “live” and dynamic. Users can even change data sources and date ranges on the fly! Bosses love it, clients love it, and marketers love it… provided everything is performing really well ;)

Supermetrics

If you want to get really fancy, and build your own fully custom dashboard, develop some truly bespoke analysis tools, or automate your reporting regimen, check out Supermetrics. It allows you to pull data from just about any source into Google Sheets or Excel. From there, your only limitation is your mastery of spreadsheet-fu and your imagination.

TL;DR

So that’s a lot of stuff. If you’d like to skip the more nuanced explanations, pro tips, and bad jokes, here’s the gist in point form:

Tracking your digital marketing is super important.

Don’t just track traffic. Tracking conversions is critical.

Use Google Analytics. Don’t let your agency use their own account.

Set up goals for every type of lead (forms, calls, chats, bookings, etc).

Track forms with destinations (thank you pages) or events.

Track your calls, probably using CallRail.

Use "number per source" if you have a huge volume of traffic; otherwise, use number pools (AKA keyword pools). Pools are better.

Set up Search Console and link it to your Analytics and Adwords accounts.

Link Adwords with Analytics.

Import Analytics conversions into Adwords instead of using Adwords’ native conversion tracking snippet...

...except for call extensions. Track those within and Adwords AND in Analytics (if you want to) by using an “offline” tracking number as the destination for your Google forwarding numbers.

Use Google Tag Manager if you have more than a couple third-party scripts to run on your site (web chat, Analytics, call tracking, Facebook Pixels etc).

Use Google Campaign URL Builder to create tracked URLs for tracking visitors from various sources like offline advertising, email signatures, etc.

Use a tracked URL on your GMB listing.

Use a tracked number as your “primary” GMB listing number (if you do this, make sure you put your real local number as a “secondary” number). Note: We think this is safe, but we don’t have quite enough data to say so unequivocally. YMMV.

Use vanity domains or short URLs that point to your tracking URLs to put on print materials, TV spots, etc.

Track your rankings like a boss.

Acquisition > All Traffic > Channels is your new Analytics home base.

Consider making some Google Analytics Dashboards… and then don’t, because Google Data Studio is way better. So use that.

Check out Supermetrics if you want to get really hardcore.

Don’t let your dreams be dreams.

If you’re new to tracking your digital marketing, I hope this provides a helpful starting point, and helps cut through some of the confusion and uncertainty about how to best get set up.

If you’re a conversion veteran, I hope there are a few new or alternative ideas here that you can use to improve your setup.

If you’ve got anything to add, correct, or ask, leave a comment!

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[msbrightside85]

My Eureka moment

Quite simply one the most amazing moments of my China life so far. I guess there will always be the first time and this is mine. The first time when you feel real triumph. That you've started on your journey to actually living in a different country and not just visiting. My tale begins at school on an unspectacular weekday. I had gone in early to plan my lessons and my manager asked if I could get together a stock of headphones for the teachers to use when the students have a test. Oh yeah, we do some of our tests on ipads, posh eh? I was pretty impressed when I arrived although sometimes they are a little more trouble than they're worth – you know, just the usual tech complaints. Amazing when it actually works etc.

Anyway ... headphones. So cut to me sat in the office unpacking forty or so (pairs of?) headphones from their rather OTT packaging (let's not go down the packaging road otherwise I will never finish my story!) and now I'm thinking what do I do with all this cardboard and plastic. This is again another drawback to being new. When you've been somewhere for a while you would know what to do in this kind of situation, but alas I did not. So I turned to one of my local colleagues (as I often do) for advice. She said the cleaner will take them away if they're bagged up. So naturally my next question was and where do we keep the bin bags? She informed me that the cleaner has them. Ok. Now, I knew where to find the cleaner as she usually hangs out outside the loos when she's not on her rounds but I didn't know if she would know any English, probably not. Sometimes it is a bit of a tough thing to get your head around. Working at a school which teaches English sometimes removes you from the fact that you’re actually living in China. The fact of it is that even though we’re teaching lots of children day after day, there are still so many people who don’t know English. It’s just easy to forget. So I turn to my local colleague again and ask, what’s bin bags in Chinese?

Now I need to digress purposefully here (I promise) as I do need to emphasise that I do this a lot. I ask my local colleagues what random words are in Chinese, not for any purpose but just because I think of something and wonder what it is in Chinese. I guess I can con myself into thinking that this is a small part of my big Chinese language development plan, but I can assure you that it is not. The number of words I instantly forget as soon as I've recited them is about 90%. It is pretty darned high. But in some cases I do retain the information and strangely enough this is one of those examples, bin bags. I know it's crazy. As you all know my brain is programmed to remember the useful stuff!

Not forgetting that this day I'm referring to, bin bag day as we shall affectionately call it, took place around two months ago and yet I can still tell you what bin bags are in Chinese. Thankfully, I'm proud to say that I have managed to retain SOME useful snippets (not that bin bags isn't massively useful of course ...) such as asking 'how much is it?' and things like left, right, straight on and stop, which are all very useful when you're in a taxi. I think I've come across one taxi driver the whole time I've been here who could speak English and what I mean when I say this is that even when I say my address in Chinese (no doubt pronounced very badly) some drivers are even unable to understand this and so I have to resort to showing them my address written in Chinese characters. Having this information is fantastically useful and has saved me many times, especially in the early days. So if you ever do venture out this way make sure to get the address of your hotel or wherever you're staying written down in Chinese characters, it will be a life saver. Thankfully one of the HR girls at school gave me a few addresses in Chinese when I first arrived and I have them saved on my phone in case I ever need them. My phone is my life out here, way more than it was in England.

Anyway, bin bags. So I rehearsed my line 'do you have any bin bags?' with my Chinese colleague over and over and over and over and then ran off (I couldn't risk walking in case I forgot it along the way) and there was the cleaner outside the toilets as predicted. So I did it. I asked her if she had any bin bags and without saying a word she went into the cupboard under the sink (very useful to remember this location for future bin bag supplies …) and gave me a roll of bin bags. It felt so good. I skipped back up to the office to tell my colleague who just laughed and carried on with her lesson planning. I have told many people about my Eureka moment since it happened and they are now at ease in the thought that if we are ever in need of bin bags I am the one to come to for assistance. What a feeling. A small victory but a massive one at the same time.

I’m loving living here but there are days when life is really hard, when you can’t communicate with people. Sometimes you just don't want to go out for fear of making a bit of an idiot of yourself (this is me on a regular basis) or just struggling and have them ask you more Chinese than you can understand. So being able to form the simplest of questions and being understood is just fabulous. So there it is. My Eureka moment. Bin bags. Who would have guessed.

There are of course times since that I have been particularly proud of myself at how I have handled situations with very limited Chinese such as helping a friend to buy foundation, asking if we can take away our food and ordering a meal or buying things from a stall with no pricing. But I have also had Chinese fails, such as the time I was trying to ask a supermarket worker whether they sold cooking oil as a spray (yes I was miming spraying) or when I got right and left mixed up with a taxi driver (but let’s be honest I have some friends who don’t know their left from their right in English - you know who you are. You’re the ones miming writing now so you can confirm to yourself which is your right hand).

A useful phrase I have learnt whilst here is how to say I don’t understand. There are some Chinese people who completely out the blue start full on conversations with me in Chinese. I do understand that there are a number of people who aren’t Chinese but can speak Chinese surprisingly well. But surely it’s a risk to take? I guess it’s nice though that they want to start a conversation with me. But this comes back to how helpful people are out here. Even the smallest assistance can be helpful. I was once in a restaurant, maybe two weeks after I arrived and I was trying to order and the woman at the till didn’t speak any English so she ran and got anther customer, a young boy around the age of ten to come and help me. He was fab.

But honestly, I am super lucky because everyone who I spend time with has a better grasp of the language and the characters than myself. So I am usually pretty molly coddled (happy to receive feedback on whether I’ve spelt this correctly) when it comes to using the language, which is a good thing and also a bad thing because it’s probably slowed my development but on the flip side I have been able to access a number of other places I would never have been able to on my own.

Ironically enough, one of the hardest things to get your head around is when you go somewhere and they speak ENGLISH. You get so used to asking for one of those or saying thank you in Chinese that when you do find somewhere and the staff speak English, it can be a real mind meld. One such place is Camel bar, it’s an expat bar and honestly when you’ve not been for a while it’s like walking into the twilight zone.

The majority of the people in there are westerners; English, Americans, Australians, Germans, French. I have seen some Chinese in there but if there are then they’re in the minority or they’re in a mixed group with westerners. So as I was saying having them speak and understand English can sometimes make it harder! It may take you all your time to get out, can I have two glasses of the merlot please? (but of course I always manage it ;)) A massive plus about Camel is that the wine is very tasty. Wine is one of the things I wasn't sure what it would be like over here and in the supermarkets it is more expensive than England, so much so that I've not a bought a bottle since I've been out here (I know shock horror right?!). But Camel has ‘happy hour’ (which of course is more than one hour) each day and wine is included in the discounted drinks list during this time so yay!

Of course, Camel is an expat bar and so the prices outside of happy hour or the drinks not included in the discounted list are not that far behind the prices you’d expect to pay in England and it definitely doesn’t give you an authentic Chinese experience. So I’d only really recommend it if you were staying in China for a long time or were planning to live here because in that case there will always come the day when you crave some kind of homely comfort or western atmosphere and for this it’s almost perfect (or just for a cheap drink!!). So much so that any westerner who comes to Suzhou for the first time but is living in China seems to know by osmosis that this is the place to go. So it’s popularity and ongoing custom is pretty much guaranteed forever. Long live Camel and it’s very yummy happy hour vino.

Well that’s all for now folks. But of course I cannot complete this entry without asking you the question you all want to hear ...

Ni yo laji dai ma?

[peaceandlonglife]

Ed Nygma's Enigma | A Nygmobblepot Fanfiction

Pairing: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma Words: 1.8k Summary: For the first time is Ed's life, he was puzzled; utterly stumped, and by his own doing. He found himself attracted to a man. But not just any man, no, The Penguin - Oswald Cobblepot.

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                                               *Story & Cover Below*

  It was a stray, mundane thought, passing swiftly through his sharp mind. It was the kind of thought that typically would have gone undetected, but for whatever reason, it hadn't.

  I like him.

  For the first time is Ed's life, he was puzzled; utterly stumped, and by his own doing.

Ed found himself attracted to a man. But not just any man, no, The Penguin- Oswald Cobblepot.

He had never once been enticed by a male, or even curious for that matter -even though he was routinely propositioned by those of the same sex for whatever strange reason - Simply put, his preference had always laid exclusively with woman.

But what had changed?

The question was equal parts intriguing and infuriating for Ed. It was an equation he desperately needed an answer to, but lacked a formula or any applicable data.

Ed drags a chair from his dining table into his bedroom, the legs screeching and scratching over the pristine floor. For once he didn't care, he had bigger, more important situations at hand, like analyzing his latest epiphany.

Ed positions the chair before the foot of his bed, facing his sedated guest. Yes, this would do perfectly.

  He had so many questions racing in his mind that he felt dizzy. Perhaps he would try solving the simplest ones first, to clear and bring some resemblance of order back to his chaotic mind before attempting to tackle the more perplexing self-analytic inquires.

  Ed would start off with the basics.

  Who?

  This one was easy. He was attracted to Oswald Cobblepot, or more commonly referred to as The Penguin. Gotham's underground kingpin, criminal overlord, and master manipulator. Next.

 What?

What was it about him?

  Ed leans forward into his chair, intensely focusing on his patient. He studies the mans facial features, sharp and rigid even in sleep. It was the face of a man who had been dealt a lifetime of hardship. Someone who had seen too much; experiences so harrowing that they burden him at all hours. Yet Oswald didn't wallow in self-pity or expect special favours to be bestowed upon him. No, he made his way up the criminal ranks through cunning schemes and elaborate manipulation, all without succumbing to the lazy, overused tactics of those who ruled before him. He earned his respect. It was this about Oswald that never seized to amaze Ed.

When?

When did his simple admiration of him blossom into something much less innocent?

  Ever since Oswald was dubbed 'The Penguin' in the media, Ed had been closely following his endeavours, whether through the paper or the news, or even eavesdropping on Detective Gordon's hushed conversations at work. Ed was always the first to know about the latest underground developments. He had even devised an acceptable explanation just in case anyone were to question him on his strange fixation on the lethal stranger - No one ever did, but at least he was prepared. 'It's for work' Ed would tell them. 'I am simply collecting crucial data by observing the daily habits and mannerisms of known criminals. Eventually, with enough information I will be able to detect routines and accurately predict patterns of increased and decreased crime rate, thus aiding in the prevention and capture of said majour criminal.'

Of course, the real reason was that Ed wanted to be just like Oswald. He wanted to be in complete control, to have unwavering loyalty. To be free, to be feared. Ed just wasn't sure when wanting to be Oswald had changed to wanting to be with him.

  Although, if he had to hypothesize the exact moment his platonic resolve began to slip through his fingers, it had to have been the moment Oswald collapsed in that quiet forest.

  Through all of Ed's research, his mind had subconsciously began to paint Oswald as this perfect, ethereal being; impervious to lowly human facets. And then to see someone you've worshipped  for so long so mortally wounded and raw with vibrant emotions...it was shocking. You don't realize how misplaced your perspective is until it's snapped back into reality.

  Oswald was just a regular person.

  Why?

  Why did Ed want to be with him?

Companionship and intimacy were the two biggest factors that sprung to mind, but they weren't exclusive, Ed could find those two traits in just about anyone. No, Ed wanted to be with Oswald because he felt at ease around him. He didn't have to hide his sinister side or withhold any dirty little secrets because Oswald was the same as Ed. For once Ed felt normal; for once he wasn't the only misunderstood nerd. They could rule side by side, as equals. Together they'd leaving a blazing trail of wicked destruction in their wake.

It no longer mattered to Ed that Oswald was not a girl. He'd trade in soft curves for hard angles any day if it meant he could have Oswald underneath him for even just a minute. Ed wasn't attracted or not attracted to him because of his gender, he was attracted to him because he was Oswald.

And then there was Ed's more primal attraction towards Oswald. It was something he felt so rarely -the raw, uninhibited need- but when he did, it had the capability to turn his entire life upside down, leaving him dizzy and gasping for breath.

During the day the lust would loom bleakly over him like the deafening silence before a storm. And when night descended upon Gotham his lust would gradually suffocate him till his chest was tight and he could no longer form a coherent thought. It was at this time that all Ed's deepest darkest fantasies would play out in his mind -muddled with passion- but instead of a movie it was a clip show of fleeting senses.

Oswald's nails, digging into the pale flesh of his back. Oswald's crystal eyes, not leaving his, pupils blown wide. Oswald's breath, hot against his ear as he whispers nothing in particular. Oswald's cologne, too sweet for a man of such stature. Oswald's tongue pressed enthusiastically against his, a faint trace of a mint he'd had earlier.

Oswald. Oswald. Oswald.

Ed was now lusting after a man he'd only known personally for a day and nothing had felt more right.

It wasn't just the sex he craved. Ed wanted the romance. He wanted to pamper Oswald, to cook for him, to shower him with genuine affection. He wanted to take him on extravagant dates that he couldn't afford. Ed wanted to proudly parade him around the city, bragging and warning every resident that The Penguin was officially taken and anyone with objections or ill intent towards Oswald would have to come through him first.

  Movement breaks Ed's chain of thoughts as Oswald begins to restlessly toss about before eventually settling on his uninjured side. His face is scrunched up in deep emotion and his calloused hands blindly reach out for something. He grabs hold of the sheets instead and seems to find a sense of solace in the action of clutching the sheets to his chest. How...adorable.

  Oswald looked so small, even smaller than usual, both physically and emotionally, like a frail baby bird.

Ed rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and looks at the clock hanging on wall. It was too late, and he had work early in the morning. Ed glances backwards at the hard couch that was doubling as an extra bed and then longingly at his real bed.

His bed was far too large for only one person, -it had come with the apartment and he been too broke at the time to replace it, and too unbothered since- instead of its intended comfort, the space only left him with a tangible metaphorical reminder of his loneliness and how he was unwanted and destined to be unloved.

But now, in an unexpected -but not unpleasant- turn of events, Ed no longer felt alone. His bed also just coincidentally happened to be occupied by another.

Oswald shifts again and Ed watches as he rolls closer to the edge of the bed, as if taunting him to crawl in beside him.

Ed was certainly tempted beyond comprehension, but there was also a part of him that held back on taking the offer. He'd never done anything of the like. The one time he had managed to take Kristen to bed, she had left immediately after, refraining from all unnecessary contact. Oswald couldn't be any more different on the matter.

Oswald was an unintentionally tactile person. He'd always lean in close when spoken too, invested fully in the conversation; fingers briefly running down an arm in amusement, an empathetic hand resting comfortably on a shoulder, or a sharp elbow to the ribs to convey frustration.

  It was purely nurture over nature. Oswald's relationship with his mother was one on the very opposite end of the spectrum of Edward's parental relationship.

  Even with the minimal communication they've had on the matter, Ed could confidently deduce that Oswald was bordering on codependency. He simply thrived on the praise and acknowledgment of others and even more so with reciprocated physical contact. To Oswald, a hug could mean the entire world.

  Ed didn't mind this particular quirk, in fact, he revelled in it. Oswald was the first person to genuinely initiate intimate contact with him. Sure, at first it was uncomfortable and strange -he had to constantly remind himself that Oseald was not trying to hurt him- because he had went through the majority of his life severely touch-starved. But that initial ingrained fear subsided and before long he was subconsciously leaning into his gentle touch. It was always gentle, as if Ed was the injured one and not the caretaker.

 Oswald coughs once suddenly, then spirals into an uncontrollable cough. It was dry and raspy by the sound of it; the kind that itched relentlessly. Without a second thought Ed dives forward from his chair and onto the bed. Before his common sense had time to catch up with his movements he placed a strong hand on Oswald's bare back and began rubbing in slow, soothing circles.

  There were two more rounds of vigorous coughing before Oswald calmed down. He was still deep asleep from the sedatives, but his body was shaking from the over-exertion. Ed rolls on his side and peers over Oswald's shoulder to double check that there was a glass of water on the bedside table, just in case.

 Ed crawls under the sheets and resumes stroking Oswald's back but with every silent minute that ticks past his slow palmed circles evolve further into fingertips ghosting intricate designs.

  There was only a measly foot between the two now. Back to chest. Edward's long legs were somewhat curled in towards his chest and Oswald's frame had settled into the steady, rhythmic up and down of his breathing.

  It was nice.

  Calm.

  Content.

  Ed had never slept better.