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champangekisses · 1 year ago

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Afterglow | R.C. & J.M.

Part One

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: swearing, banter, arguing, anger, suggestive, flirting

Summary: Reader’s first day back in the OBX after a year away is one to remember.

A/n: Part one to my first fic. I’m as excited as I am nervous to post this, I hope you enjoy!

All I could hear was the shouting, the constant rustle in the trees, the dogs barking uncontrollably. The flashlights shone through the trees and bushes as the sheriff and fellow deputies tried to desperately catch up to us. The fear set in, the rush of adrenaline still persistent in my body. I started to go numb as the limbs of the trees and bushes consistently smacked me all over. Then finally it happened, right before my eyes—my greatest fear became my living nightmare.

One Month Earlier

“Y/n! Make sure you pack yourself something nice to wear, remember no white!” My mom yelled up to remind me for the one hundredth time from the base of the stairs. I left the OBX a year ago, moved out to the middle of nowhere with my mom and her new husband and started a completely new life with them. Today, I finally get to go home, but unfortunately only for a week.

The Thornton’s eldest daughter is getting married off to some kid who graduated from law school, nothing special other than the groom comes from a wealthy family, and that's all that really matters out there. Keeping the rich - rich. My mom was always obsessed with the idea of me having a lifestyle almost identical to hers but I never was one for the shinier things in life, I just wanted to smoke pot and surf.

I had a plan though, she had always promised me that we would return off of one condition. “You will never see those worthless kids ever again.” Her words replayed in my head like the unmistakable tune of the piano keys I kept tapping ever so faintly as I waited by her bedroom entry, only to retain her opinion of the attire I had picked for the dreadful day to come.

“Y/n? Do you need something?” I quickly zoned back in, collecting all of the vindictive thoughts and stuffing them in a folder labeled drafts. I turned quickly to face her, she was in the middle of packing almost every nonessential item in her bathroom.

I gradually made my way to her bedside, settling down while staring at the ardent red dress in the palm of my hands. “What do you think about this one?” I spoke excitedly, masking the deceitful thoughts I was creating effortlessly in my head.

“I love it! The red dress has always been my favorite.” Her eyes glimmered at the thought of seeing me finally fit in with the kooks or as my step dad would say, the well educated kids. I gave a gentle smile to her before proceeding back through her reimposed bedroom doorway, gliding my fingers ever so delicately over the keys of the piano once more before continuing back up the staircase.

The trip there was awful and boring, outside of the plane windows you saw nothing but the many shades of green, luckily we were there within the matter of a couple hours. We took the latest flight that ultimately landed us at Charleston around eight in the evening. Exhaustedly as I am, I took it into my best interest to sleep during the next three and a half hours of our drive to the Outer Banks.

My body started lightly being pulled in one direction, then the other with every winding turn the old road took. With my eyes closed and slowly waking up, I started imagining the scenery of the old famous hang out at John B's. It was like dreaming in slow motion, watching as the sun kissed the water while we overcame the dying urge for a good time with uncontrollable laughter. Before my imagination concluded the car slowed, turning unhurriedly through massive gates that sat imperishable at the end of the elongated driveway.

Pulling up to the front doors of the old Tanneyhill Estate, I glanced into a dining room window staring at the distinctive profile of well-known Rafe Cameron. Our arrival made the inevitable distraction from the conversation at the dinner table which caused him to turn, concentrating on the moving vehicle on the other side of the very same window. The car stopped and I regained focus, grabbing my hand bag from the floorboard of the SUV before undoing my seatbelt.

Glancing down at my phone to check the time, I rested my hand on the door handle. Before I could put the energy into finally pulling it towards me, Ward swiftly swings the car door open—smiling almost as if he has never seen such a wonderful sight in his life. While demanding he help my stepdad with an argumentative tone, he reaches out for my hand and mildly holds it to help me out of the car.

I mumble a soft thanks before glancing to the front doors, locking eyes with the golden boy. Meanwhile behind me, Ward was continuing to the next car door, assisting with any need my parents had. Rafe never broke eye contact, even when he shifted his posture to lean against the framework, crossing his ankles while his hands stayed in his pockets. His smirk turned into a devilish grin that wreaked nothing but chaos. He sent chills that vibrated my bones, and even once received was not sufficient enough for the goosebumps coming to life on my neck.

I stared at the walkway in front of me, with each step the pit in my stomach grew. I could feel his eyes on me like the force of rain during a downpour. The closer we were, the weight of his stare grew even more burdensome. I felt so compliant around him, so timid. I finally reached the top of the stairs, I swung my arm out to grab the handle but Rafe had already beaten me to it. My hand gently landed on his, my anxiety quickly rising as I ripped mine back to me. His daunting smile let out a faint chuckle that only I could hear.

“If I don't get the door for you, I'm sure I'll hear about it later from my dad.” His tone was so taunting, as if he wanted me to react. I continued through the entry room, following the long narrow hallway to the backside of the home. Sarah was sitting on the love seat that was shared by her younger sister Wheezy. She wasted no time swiftly moving her head to look at the shadowed figure stepping into the light of her living room. Sarah immediately shot up, pushing everything from her lap directly on top of her sister. I prepared my body for the impact of Sarah’s as she pulled me in. We stayed continuously hugging for what felt like forever—neither of us comprehending quite yet that we were in reality. Ward hurried with the luggage, trying to push us in and assign us our rooms. We wasted no time getting ready for bed, I was anxious for what my tomorrow would bring.

I ended up sleeping in for far too long though, waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs way past the time I should be. Shooting myself up off the floor, I scurried into the bathroom across the hall. I shut the door quickly and immediately started the shower water. The only problem was that I forgot the clothes I needed to change into, so I wrapped a towel around me as my hair stayed drenched. Cracking the door open, I checked the hallway making sure nobody was able to witness the embarrassment I was about to endure. I darted across the hall, running through the entry of the bedroom I assumed was mine. I slammed the door a little too hard before turning around to look for my nonexistent clothes on the floor. Rafe, laying down on his bed, props himself up using his forearm and elbow.

“Since when did we share a room?” I jump by the sudden question asked towards me, not prepared to potentially be interrogated. I almost lose my towel in the process while Rafe begins to chuckle at my distress.

“Excuse me?” I questioned as I felt my face starting to warm as his stare intensed.

“You’re excused.” He replied with a smirk as his tone quickly became playful, I started to become flustered before popping off on him.

“You disrespectful brat! All of our interactions have ended with me being uncomfortable. You couldn’t even open the door for me out of courtesy when we first arrived! Now I'm here, sitting in a towel and you won’t even get up and help save me from this embarrassment! You’re such a jackass.” My voice started to raise as the fire within me started to spread.

Rafe shot up out of the bed as if he was being demanded to by a drill sergeant. His mood switched, intimidating was an understatement. He approached me with the same devilish smile he once had just last night, his hand reached out to hold my jaw—gentle yet firm. My breathing stopped, I couldn’t even say a word to him. Rafe brought his mouth to my ear, the closer he got the more submissive I became.

“Do you really want me to leave?” His voice made my skin crawl, my heart started pounding and my breathing came back but in manual.

“Get off of me, you mutt.” I smacked his hand away from my face which caused him to laugh before his tone shifted once again and he turned away from me.

“Get out.” He demanded. I felt even more embarrassed, I glanced at my feet noticing that I still wasn't dressed yet and it was going on late morning. I started to make my way to the door as Rafe seated himself on his bedside, I grabbed the handle and swung open his door. Walking out as if I meant to, I attempted to keep my confidence. I knew all too well that he watched me leave, my mom’s words played in my head as I proceeded down the hall once more. A dog will always remain a dog.

I finished getting dressed before making my way to the kitchen, my mom already had a cup of coffee waiting for me.

“What happened to you? I heard you get out of the shower and then it took you quite some time to get ready.” My face began to burn, Rafe’s words replicating a broken record in my head. My eyes wide open looking down at my feet with the mug full of coffee to my mouth, I sipped at it before placing it back down onto the island where she was sitting.

“I had some trouble with putting my outfit together.” I replied, hoping that was enough to get her off of my back. I couldn’t exactly tell her what happened or she would take it as a connection and mentally start wedding planning.

“Y/n! Come over here!” Sarah yelled from the back patio. My mom shaking her head in approval, I went on my way from the previous conversation and walked into an even more enlightened one. Sarah approached me with a growing smile while pulling what looked to be Topper away from Rafe whom he was actively having a conversation with. Rafe from afar glanced over at them approaching me before sitting down on patio furniture and gluing his face to his phone.

“Y/n, I wanted you to be reintroduced to my now boyfriend, Topper.” Sarah announced as I smiled, knowing that eventually they would connect. Topper has always had something special for Sarah, it was only a matter of time before she noticed.

I stepped aside from the conversation, staring off into the distance, watching the waves ever so lightly wash against the dock and the sailboats glide effortlessly against the water. I missed this, but I missed my friends more than anything. I stood there, with my mug in my hand and the coffee sitting dormant inside soon growing cold. Dreaming of the moment I see them, the Pogues.

Then, as my imagination settled, a figure started walking towards the house from the dock. Taking all of my attention away from my long forgotten wishes, they looked worn from a long day's work. When they grew closer to the back patio we shot each other a curious glance, our eyes locked which then became intense within seconds. I lost my grip, everything going numb before the mug shattered beneath me.

John B.

My lifelong best friend, walking through the yard of my now greatest enemy. Not one soul wasted time to come to my side, except for Rafe. He kept a glare on John B. as he continued down the pathway, you could see in his dark malevolent eyes that he was not welcomed here by him. Meanwhile, Ward ran to us from around the house while my mom and Rose came from the back doors.

“Y/n are you okay!? What happened!?” My mom grabbed my wrists and pulled me to her for a reply.

“N-nothing mom, I'm fine. Please.” I pushed away from her, running inside as Ward cleaned the pieces of porcelain. I went straight to the bathroom, not even sparing a moment to close the door. I turned on the cold water from the sink, staring motionless at the unrecognizable girl in the mirror while my eyes started to burn as the tears formed. I cupped the freezing water before bending over to splash it on my face, hiding any evidence of my emotion.

“I can’t believe I'm asking this but, are you okay?” With both hands gripping the bathroom counter I turned my head sharply to the door, Rafe stared at me with one eyebrow slightly raised while keeping one hand on the doorframe for support as he stood. I gave an angry chuckle before I collected myself.

“Yes, I'm fine. You can go now.” I seethed, Rafe rolled his eyes before making his way back down the hallway, mumbling the entire time before he stepped outside and back to tending to his dad’s needs. I wouldn’t go back outside, solely to prevent myself from becoming even more embarrassed by the scene I left behind. I went into the kitchen, watching my mom and Rose laugh over something that I had absolutely no interest in hearing about. Rose kindly handed me a glass of water before asking if I was okay. I felt myself turn pink, before I could even thank her and reassure her Sarah ran in from outside.

“Y/n! If you’re up for it, Topper wants to take us out for a ride in his new boat?” I turned to my mom waiting for her approval before running away from this nightmare. She sent me a soft smile before returning to her gossip session. I followed Sarah back out to the patio, ignoring the urge to apologize a hundred times for the mess I had created.

The boat wasn’t much to brag about, I don’t even remember the name of it honestly. I did enjoy the scenery though, and being able to let the water hug my fingers as we cruised back toward the dock. As we pulled up to tie off Rafe just couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer

“So Y/n, why did you freak out like that back there at the house?” He questioned with an upward curve forming at the corner of his mouth. It made Sarah and Topper turn their heads to give me their full attention, and I couldn’t help but to glare at Rafe. This made him smile, his sunglasses hiding his eyes that had probably nothing but pure enthusiasm as he taunted me.

“So Rafe, why did you come check on me when I ran inside?” I teased, his smile soon fading while Sarah and Topper turned their heads back forward, hiding the smiles they held from the total humiliation they had just witnessed. Rafe had nothing to say but I felt accomplished knowing I officially put the pretty boy in his place, reminding him that two can play his game.

Once Topper tied the boat off we all hopped out. Rafe was of course the first one while I was last, which I didn’t mind because I wouldn’t want the help out. We all walked back to the house together until I realized I had forgotten my sandals, I turned around not even sparing a second to tell anybody. I hopped back into the boat and within seconds had found them, once I stepped out a familiar voice chimed in my ears.

“Hey there, stranger.”

My heart skipped a beat as I instinctively turned my head to look on the second level of the yacht that sat beside me. We made eye contact before I cracked a smile.

“I'll be damned; John B. Routledge.” I replied, he already had a glowing smile on his face, the same one as when we first met in school.

“Why don’t you come down here so we can be on the same level?” I tried to convince him, but luckily for me he had the same idea. John B hurried down, grabbing onto the side of the boat for him to throw himself over. While running to me to trap me in a hug, the strongest one I've been in so far. He pulled away from me but not letting go just yet.

“Y/n, you have to come to the bonfire tomorrow night. Everybody will be there and I know Kie, Pope and JJ would love to see you.” He encouraged me as I froze, not knowing how to explain that my parents absolutely despised him and the Pogues.

“I’m sure we will see each other. I know Topper and Sarah have been talking about going while we were out today.” I replied warily. John B had a concerned look on his face that had a splash of frustration before popping the one question I wished he hadn’t.

“So, you’re hanging out with the Kooks now?” I pushed him away from me.

“It's not as easy as you think it is to go back to how I once was; I have strict rules to follow and if I want to stay here for as long as I intend to do so, I have to play along.” I retorted as he stared at me wide-eyed. I knew he was confused and probably a little hurt by my reaction but that was the easiest way to tell him. I was suffocating myself staying in that home but I had another six days to try to prove to my parents that we should come back.

“I’m sorry John B., but my parents told me the only way I could come back is if I stay away from you. But -” I bit my lip, staring off into the horizon as the sun started to trinkle its way down to the water. John B grew impatient while I questioned myself to tell him my plan.

“But what Y/n?” He whined, making me snap out of my trance.

“But—if they just think I am a Kook, then they should get convinced quickly. Making it easier to hang out with you, since you know…they won’t be keeping a close eye on me.” John B sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he kept a stare down at the boards of the dock.

“I mean, I don’t think we have any other choice.” He replied looking back up to me, a soft smile formed once more on his face.

“Look at it this way; we finally got the Pogues back.” I smiled in response, it felt refreshing talking to John B. His voice reminded me of the soft waves as they caress the sand on the shore, the crackle of a fire that's burning at night to devour the darkness around you.

“I will see you tomorrow John.'' I smiled as I turned away from him.

“Don’t keep me waiting Y/L/N.” he replied as I started my way back to the house, blushing with a smile as I continued down the dock.

John B. was my best friend. I would be lying if I said he wasn't cute, but my eyes were on somebody else—precisely from a year ago. I stepped in through the doors that welcomed me back into the kitchen. Ward had taken Rose and my parents out for a nice dinner on the water for a warm welcome home. Sarah, Topper and Wheezy got dressed in time for the remaining two hours to be filled with laughter in the pool out back. I rounded the corner into the hallway before I was stopped by none other than Rafe, he was leaning against the wall with a look of disappointment growing on his face.

“So what was that all about?” He questioned, I stood there making awkward eye contact. Was he watching me?

“Hello?” Rafe poked once more, I furrowed my eyebrows before sending him an attitude.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business.” I pushed myself past him as he turned to watch me leave.

“It could be mine or it could be your parents’.” He barked back to me. I stopped walking as he slowly progressed towards me. I stood in fear of what my parents would do if they ever knew. I could feel his presence behind me, the goosebumps rising on my back and arms like a mountain range protruding through my skin. I turned around, finally gaining the courage to face him.

“Excuse me?” The anger spilling through my teeth.

“You heard me.” Rafe shot back at me, as if he planned out exactly what I would say to him. He lived for this, the mess he creates in my head and the endless ways he taunts me just to get me to react. He was a soulless, mediocre bastard of a person. The devil was such an understatement at this point, I only wanted to hit him but I wouldn't hear the end of it from my parents.

“Leave them at the cut, Y/n. You’re on figure eight now. You need to start acting like it.” I scoffed at him before ditching the conversation by walking away and into the guest bedroom I was staying in. Rafe followed, but stayed at the door.

“Don’t think that I don’t know how bad you want to come home, if I was you I would hang with us.” He suggested, I sit on the bedside before looking over to Rafe, one eyebrow raised before laughing at him.

“You really think I want to be friends with you? Sarah is the only kook I actually enjoy being around, but you? You are a plague that walks the earth, you only want to cause harm and enjoy watching as everything falls apart. I would never want to be associated with you, ever.” I felt my rage start to rummage through me as Rafe rolled his eyes before shutting the door, mumbling some more as he made his way back down the hallway towards the kitchen.

I put myself to bed, anxious that Rafe now has something to control me with, but how did he know that I wanted to come home? I’ve only told Sarah, and I know she wouldn’t ever tell Rafe anything, so was he eavesdropping? I brushed it off ultimately, it doesn’t matter how he found out. What matters now is that he knows.

After my cup of coffee with my mom the next morning, I wasn’t too excited to be having to go to the bonfire with the Kooks, but I don’t really have a choice right now. I tagged along with Sarah for the afternoon while Topper and Rafe did. I don’t know, Topper and Rafe things?

“So Y/n, what made you change your mind about the bonfire? When Topper and I brought it up, you seemed super uninterested.” Sarah didn’t hold back her question as she was incredibly suspicious. It caught me off guard so I took a minute to think about my response.

“Honestly, I just needed to get out and enjoy myself since I'm not promised more than this week.” I lied while the pit in my stomach grew. What if I don't stay? What if I go back? I couldn’t stand the thought of it, but I had to prepare myself for the worst. Sarah didn’t seem too convinced with my answer, giving me a raised eyebrow with a smirk following really gave it away.

“Okay, well we need outfits for tonight. Almost everybody in the OBX will be there, sometimes school aged visitors show up too if they’re looking to get away from their family.” Sarah continued on about the bonfire, while I searched through the never ending clothes racks. We finally finished our shopping spree and made it back in enough time to get ready for the fire. I was a tad anxious not knowing if I looked good in what I picked. Honestly though, every woman out here has the same fashion sense unless you're a visitor. As Sarah was finishing up I gradually made my way to the kitchen, lazily pouring myself a glass of water before becoming interrupted with an unwanted guest. Leaning against the counter’s edge closest to me, Rafe rested his chin in the palm of one of his hands while sneakily trying to reach under the cabinet for his father’s whiskey with the other.

“Can I help you?” I mucked up the courage to speak while avoiding any eye contact, back facing the glare I knew he was giving me.

“Your shorts, pull them down some.” He spoke as if he was agitated, I immediately felt the rage take over my body once more as if I was becoming a wildfire that couldn’t be put out.

“How dare you comment on my shorts! You don't own me nor my body nor my mind, and I will never and I mean absolutely never do a single thing you tell me to do!” I screamed at Rafe in a tone as if I was scolding a troubled teen, but he wasted no time to crack a smile before chuckling a bit, switching positions so his back can rest on the wall behind him and tucking his hands back into his front pockets before closing his eyes and pulling his head down towards the floor beneath him.

“I never said to take them off, but when your shorts are riding so high that it looks as if your ass is suffocating it just looks…I don't know, it's funny.” He replied with a soft attitude, the embarrassment raced across my face as if it was in a marathon going for first place. Swiftly yet unsuspiciously, I grabbed the bottom of one side of my shorts as I tightened the grip I had on the glass with my other, tugging the god forsaken things down as much as I could. Rafe had a steady grin while keeping his eyes closed, knowing only too well what I was doing. I gulped down the cold water before flipping the glass upside down in the kitchen sink, then without a second thought started my way back to Sarah’s room. Leaving Rafe with his new found bottle of whiskey, and the satisfied smirk he continued to hold onto that only made the night jealous with how dark its intentions were.

I quickly stepped into Sarah’s room, shutting the door with my back before elegantly sliding down until my bottom touched the freshly installed carpet. I shut my eyes before exhaling the breath I held in for what felt like eternity.

God, I hate him.

My mind was full of anger while my body said otherwise, I couldn’t ignore the fact I desired him. Everything he does, he knows it’s working as if he needs me to want him. As if he wants me to need him.

“How does this look?” Sarah’s voice intruded my thoughts. Luckily, she didn’t seem concerned for my growing silence moments after following the slight blush spreading across my cheeks.

“I think you look great. Are you finally ready?” I quickly spoke, before jumping to my feet with a mask of excitement that only hid pure anxiety. We made our way down the spiral staircase, following Sarah’s lead as we made it to the last step. My fingers effortlessly slid down the white handrail as every imperfection of the wood protruded from the thick sealant, so well that I was forced to acknowledge the splinter left behind from it. I winced at the pain as Sarah bolted to Topper, jumping into a hug which resulted in the air being filled with laughter.

I realized a little too late that I should’ve brought a jacket to the bonfire. The ocean left little kisses on my cheeks as the breeze picked up, which carried the slightest bit of mist from the crashing waves in the distance.

“Y/n?” Topper spoke out softly, my concentration returning to him as I snapped out of the trance that the water had on me.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I asked, ignoring the worrisome look on his face as he continued.

“Why exactly do you wear that ring all the time? You’re not like, engaged are you?” You shared a quick chuckle with the blond as you mindlessly played with the tiny band with your thumb, examining the delicate piece of silver that carried a microscopic engraved heart. Your mother requested it to be on there, she said it would add character or something like that.

“Oh, this little thing? It’s a purity ring, gifted to me by my parents for my birthday last year.” I answered, glancing back up to Topper who was taking another swig of his beer before lowering the bottle with a soft sigh and pink cheeks.

“Oh, interesting. Uh, do you see Sarah anywhere? She said she was grabbing herself another drink but she never came back.” He asked as the air thickened with tension, his eyes frantically scanning the faces of the individuals in front of us.

“I just want to make sure she’s o…” I turned to face him, curious yet concerned about what had made him lose his train of thought. His eyes darkened while his knuckles turned white from gripping the now empty bottle in his hand, I couldn’t get a word out before he made his way forcefully through the hoard of people in between us and his target.

I scan the crowd ahead of him before my eyes land on Sarah talking to John B. My heart started racing as I prepared myself for the conflict about to happen. Looking at my surroundings frantically, I feel a hand snake around my waist.

“Now, how has the Kook life been treating you?” A familiar voice spoke out while leaning towards my ear, the music so loud it was almost impossible to think.

My heart fluttered as every butterfly made its way to my stomach as I turned to face him, JJ’s smile matching mine as we sat in silence for what felt like eternity. I would leave this Kook life within a blink of an eye if it meant I could stay here in this moment with him forever, and surely by the looks of it, he felt the same. I glanced down at my beer, a soft pink grew on my cheeks but luckily the dim light of the fire hid my embarrassment quite extensively.

“Terrible.” I whispered, looking back into his eyes with only inches of separation between us. His breath reeked of bourbon and cigarettes while his eyes searched mine, as if trying to find the life they once emitted. Sadness soon filled the space between us as the memories washed over him and I. We stood in complete silence as if we were waiting for the other to speak, sharing the suffocating tension we had created. I stepped towards him, never breaking the gaze we held as I wrapped one arm around his neck and closed the space between us with a hug.

“I just want to come home J.” I whimpered in his ear while trying my best not to shed a tear, especially not at a party full of Kooks.

“Then come home, baby.” JJ hummed before hugging me tightly. Before I could process what I had just done, a scream echoed through the area and I remembered.

Topper.

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isagrimorie · 11 months ago

Note

Hizzie: 9, 11 and 16.

from this fandom ask game:

9. ...what my ideal endgame for them is.

After a reasonably slow burn, they become a couple at the end of season 5 and officially at the beginning of season 6.

It starts with Hope realizing she's fallen for Lizzie, but she's not pushing it because she feels guilty for what she did to Lizzie when Lizzie confessed to her -- and because her family finally told her what 'siring' meant among vampires.

Hope would think she blew it.

Especially now that MG and Lizzie are dating. And y'know it's nice -- to the outsider it is nice. They don't fight and it's all anyone can reasonably ask for, a nice relationship with hardly any drama.

And Lizzie is trying to make it work. She thinks she owes it to herself and MG to make it work and she and Hope are friends. What more can a girl ask right?

After quite a comedy of errors and pining, all from Hope's point of view, with a few puzzled pensive looks from Lizzie. MG and Lizzie break up. It has nothing to do with Lizzie knowing about Hope's feelings but she suspects, hopes maybe.

But no, Lizzie and MG break up amicably because they both realize -- they're just not working as a couple. They are much better friends.

Meanwhile, as friends and as partners, Lizzie and Hope have been doing really, really well. And in true Mikaelson fashion -- and maybe to Hope's annoyance she's more like her Uncle Elijah than she thought-- because she does random things to make Lizzie happy without even telling her.

Cleo's noticed, of course, and has encouraged Hope to speak up. Hope doesn't want to and she seems to be on a mission to improve herself. Of course, Lizzie finds out about Hope's self-improvement mission, and as a self-proclaimed queen of self-improvement, Lizzie sets out to help her.

TLDR culminates in a major moment-- a battle, or after a battle, or even an afterparty of a battle, Hope and Lizzie end up alone and Hope finally confesses to Lizzie, and Lizzie just smiles at Hope, "Took you long enough, Mikaelson."

And kisses Hope.

11. ...how quickly I started shipping them when I got into the fandom.

Pretty fast tbh-- I'm a sucker for rivals-to-lovers tropes, but also I felt a spark from them on the 4th episode? For someone who hated Hope so much, Lizzie listened really intently and very compassionately when Hope gave her advice about grief.

gifset here

The scene in season 1 is the first time I low-key shipped Lizzie with Hope.

And to have it called back in season 4????? That Lizzie remembered and internalized what Hope said? How can I not ship them?

Of course, the roadtrip episode leading to Hope and Lizzie finding out that their whole rift was not real after all. And then cascading to the beautiful moment in the dance with Lizzie helping Hope with her anxiety and panic and later Hope doing the same for her.

But the nail in the coffin to my shipping them?

Lizzie remembers Hope in season 2 and waking up, saying: Hope Andrea Mikaelson!

From then on it is a straight shot to Shipsville.

16. ...three of my fic recs for this ship. And (in the event that I've written something for them) one of my fics involving them that I'm most proud of.

Oh boy this is actually hard since I haven't been reading a lot of Hizzie fic.

So, possibly recents first:

Catch Her a Catch by Tamoline

“Oh!” She rolls her eyes at herself. “Of course.” She doesn’t say that it was obviously lingering sorrow over a mention of something Hope no longer has. Lizzie’s always been more solution oriented anyway. “We need to find Hope a boyfriend.” Honestly, the idea��s so simple, Lizzie’s astounded she hasn’t thought of it before. Lizzie gets an idea in her head. Chaos ensues.

Lizzie tries to set-up Hope. It goes as well as you'd think.

Deep End series by cheektocheekinhell

It starts with a road trip with no Humanity Hope and Lizzie and it ends with a road trip to New Orleans.

The Charleston by Terapsina

Lizzie's panicking about having forgotten about the latest Mystic Falls dance, when Hope knocks on the door of her room and Lizzie gets an idea.

Because I really adored this. It was light and sweet and I can just see this happening.

#ask game #tv: legacies #otp: hope x lizzie #ship: hope x lizzie #hope mikaelson #lizzie saltzman #hope ANDREA mikaelson #ship: hey bitch #ship: hope and lizzie #ship: til the bitter end #hope x lizzie #hizzie #fic rec

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sarahowritesostucky · 6 months ago

Text

📖The Captain and the Rake

Rated: Mature

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 7338

Tags: historical romance, regency time period, slavery, racism (not from Steve of Bucky tho), period-typical attitudes, prejudice, mermaids, curses, internalized homophobia, historical fantasy drama, prostitution, period typical race relations and terminology ("colored," "mixed," and "black" are used)

Summary: After receiving a large inheritance, Steve must travel to the West Indies to figure out the origins of a mysterious letter.

(Regency manips made by @amarriageoftrueminds)

A.N. This fic was originally for the Stucky historical fiction event in 2023. I never was able to finish due to injury, but thought I'd brush it off for Mermay this year. This fic contains subject matter to do with the trans-Atlantic slave trade, so please heed the tags as they are updated each chapter. Racial descriptors used in this fic include: colored, black, and a couple instances of negro. I did my best to balance historical realism without getting too offensive to the reader.\ The name "Alva" was chosen before I knew about Alba, I swear to God 😂

Chapter 1. A Great and Grievous Rumbling

Steve emerged from his stateroom when a knock came at the door and a gruff voice called out, “We’ll be makin’ port within the hour now, Capt’n!”

Thank goodness.

He’d been queasy the entire trip, ever since they’d first sailed from Charleston and the rocking of the boat set into his bones. Storms had delayed their progress halfway through, and the closer they got to the equator, the more unbearable the underdecks of the ship had become. As a paying passenger, Steve was afforded small but tidy accommodations, and Captain Odinson had merrily invited him to explore the ship at his leisure, but Steve had been reticent to engage with the crew. They seemed … not distrustful of him, per se, but perhaps disdainful. In the way that men with hardened hands often disdained men with soft ones. One look at Steve, and they’d made up their minds about him being a spoilt “fancy man.”

Steve could concede that he was a comely fellow, with short, fair hair and uncommonly bright blue eyes. He sported a strong jaw and handsome nose, but his mouth had always struck him as a bit too feminine, and his eyelashes didn’t help the matter. He kept no beard, and was better groomed than the men on Odinson’s crew. Tack on the fact that he dressed in the fashion of his peers, and he supposed he might seem a bit foppish to a bunch of hard worn, seagoing men. But his body was tall and strong, towering over most other men back in New York by several inches at least.

That didn’t seem to make a difference to the crew, who’d readily laughed at a man whose constitution was weakened by seasickness. Steve had kept to his cabin, reading what little he could in between bouts of nausea. To be called up to set his eyes on land was a mercy. He was relieved that the journey was almost over.

Steve emerged above deck and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, the fresh air a tonic to his mood. It was late into the day now, the storms having swept away all traces of cloud cover. The tradewinds came in sharp and brisk, filling the ship’s sails and propelling them closer to the coast. Seeing the dark shapes of mountains swelling in the distance, Steve felt immense gratitude for land, and even greater excitement for the unknown. Nervousness, sure, it wasn’t all pleasant business that brought him halfway across the world. But he’d been going crazy back in New York. The pleasantries and mundanalities of society life having been twice as stifling after coming back from the war—and thrice as much since his inheritance. It’d been time for a change.

“Got yer sea legs now, Capt’n Rosewater?” one of the younger cabin boys snickered as he passed by.

Steve waved him off with a gamely scowl and continued towards the port bow. He held firm to the banister and looked out at the churning waters below, then up to the land ahead. It was still too far away to make out all the details, but as the next few moments brought them closer, he could see more and more of the island: masses of trees and distant green hills, mountains beyond that, the white tops of breaking surf at the edges of the inlet, and then increasingly jewel blue tones of water that bled from pure azul, to aqua, to sparkling green in the shallows. It shocked Steve, how beautifully colorful it all was in comparison to the dull, muddy waters they’d left behind in Charleston.

They sailed past a bar of land on the starboard. It jutted out far into the ocean, curling in like an arm, as if to cradle the ships come into harbor. Steve caught sight of stone ruins poking out of the water and strained to try and see more. Captain Odinson and his quartermaster—an imposing and impressive man named Heimdall—had spent their second evening at sea consoling Steve over his embarrassing queasiness, offering him drink and telling him fairy stories of the sunken pirate city of Port Royal. Standing in the just-setting sun, Steve had to squint to see. There appeared to be something left of the old town out on the sandbar, but not very much. Most of it must be underwater, Steve thought with disappointment. Earthquakes tended to do that. It sure didn’t live up to any of Odinson’s stories.

The sun was close to setting as they drew in, other ships in the harbor floating nearby with increasing frequency. There was one particularly massive frigate on the portside as they sailed, perhaps fifty yards away, and Steve noticed some of the crew shooting it dirty looks. He turned to watch as they passed. The other vessel was moored in place. It had thick, old rails with weathered paint up top and a pitch-blackened hull below, barnacles creeping far up the sides. No sails were rigged and no crew was visible, yet as he stood there, Steve began to hear something faint.

At first he thought he’d only imagined it, or that perhaps some of Odinson’s men were below deck, hauling heavy things about in their preparations for docking. But the sound came again, and Steve felt a chill on his skin as the sound grew unnaturally, filling his ears and consuming his senses to the exclusion of all else. Louder and louder it became, until he could feel it reverberating in his head, like the inside of a conch, like a pulse. Leaning harder against the rail, his fingers gripped the wood as he listened to the sound.

It was coming from the other ship, not theirs.

Steve glanced about, but none of the crew were paying attention. It was as though they couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t understand how that was possible, as the sound swelled to a grievous rumble that made his heart beat faster in fear. It sounded like a … like a machine, like some great and groaning monster was inside the belly of the other ship, producing a deep and steady pounding. Steve hadn’t a clue what on earth could make such a noise. They’d already passed the ship by, so the sound should be fading, not growing louder. It didn’t make any sense. Steve stood there, aghast and locked in place.

Until a hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind, and he all but jumped out of his skin. The roaring was sucked clean out of his ears, immediately replaced by the usual cadence of wind and boat deck chatter as Steve whipped around and blustered over the embarrassing yelp he’d given. “Oh! Quartermaster!” He straightened himself. “Um, forgive me. I didn’t hear you approach.”

The quartermaster’s eye twinkled as he stepped up to join him. His name was Heimdall. He’d seen where Steve was watching the other ship. Together they stood at the rail and observed the island that lay ahead of them. “That, back there,” he said, referencing the frigate.

“Yes,” Steve said, not quite wanting to look over his shoulder at it anymore. “What was that?” He meant the monstrous sound of it, but had an odd and chilling suspicion that he’d been the only one who’d heard the noise. “The ship,” he said. “Didn’t you … didn’t you hear it?”

“Hear what?” Heimdall peered at him strangely. “The Hannibal. A Guineaman, godforsaken craft.” When he could see that Steve didn’t understand the scorn in his voice, he told him, “That’d be one of the old slave ships, Captain.”

Steve felt his stomach drop out. “O-Oh?” Heimdall nodded. All of a sudden it seemed that he was doubly as black—and Steve doubly as aware of it. He bit the inside of his cheek as he wondered if Heimdall knew his business on the island. Steve had mentioned his inheritance to Captain Odinson, but no one else on the ship. He wasn’t exactly proud of it, and he hadn’t wanted word to get ‘round that he was a slaveholder. Assumptions might be made. No one here knew his character or his intentions, after all. Nobody knew about Sam, or Hamilton House back home in Brooklyn, or that Steve’s aunt in Utica often mailed him back issues from her subscription to the Emancipator. Steve frowned at the distant shoreline, resisting the urge to twist his fingers into his ears. They still held the echo of that phantom sound. “Ships like that still sail?” he asked. “How?”

“Sugar, molasses, rum.” Heimdall shrugged. “For less profit.”

Steve wasn’t an idiot. He knew how all three of those things were produced: sugarcane. He now owned a large plantation of the stuff. “I see,” he said stiffly. “Do you know what’s brought me out here, then?”

Heimdall looked over at him, and for a tense moment, Steve thought he’d say yes, but then the quartermaster’s mouth twitched up in a smirk of gentle disdain. “You’re from New York,” he drawled. “Only two things’ll bring a gentleman American out to this edge of the world: money, or a powerful need to run away from something.”

“Run away,” Steve murmured, thoughts instantly veering to the genteel form of Miss Alva Barclay. He fought not to wince. He wasn’t running, and certainly not from her. “Yes,” he said, wetting his lips as he realized that he could relax once again, because Heimdall had no ill opinion of him. The man obviously didn’t know. So, Steve joined him in staring ahead peaceably, watching as the edge of the world drew into clearer relief.

“Jamaica at last!” Captain Odinson arrived happily at Steve’s side and threw his hand out at the town and the docks below. “Isn’t it beautiful? Just as I said!”

No matter the topic, Odinson always seemed to say everything with a boom, his enthusiasm infectious. Steve nodded in agreement. “Indeed.” Even in the day’s waning light, everything seemed brighter here. Steve had never once seen an entire building painted egg yolk yellow. “I knew it would be warmer here, but not like this. I’m afraid my trunk won’t be suitable for such a climate.” When they’d departed Charleston, it had only just turned November. Now all he could see were palm trees and folks dressed in light cotton clothes or even with no shirts on at all. “Incredible.”

“Indeed. You may find your New York winters more difficult to bear, once you return.”

Steve grimaced, remembering the past two winters and how exceptionally harsh they had been. When he’d departed for Charleston, there’d already been snow on the ground in New York. One of the crew members called out to the Captain, and he excused himself from Steve’s company. Steve decided to remain where he was until the work of unloading the ship died down a bit, as he didn’t want to be in the way. He spent the time watching the docks below, fascinated by the scenery.

Despite the unsavory nature of his inheritance, Steve was still very excited to be in Jamaica. Already it seemed amazing, and he’d only stood there on the ship looking at the ruddy docks, not even yet ventured into the town! He took in all the action of the street: carts and chickens and sailors cursing at one another. There was so much green. The forest beyond seemed lush and dense, the wilderness of it curling in at the edges of the town and creeping to fill up empty spaces. And oh, with the sunset just beginning to cast its colors, Steve’s fingers itched to find a paintbrush. The people bustling about were of such variety and comport that he instantly knew a day in Kingston could never be dull.

There were far more people of color than Steve had ever seen in one place. The ship captains and many of the crewmen were white, but not all, and out on the street there were many colored merchants and dockworkers. Groups of black and mixed-race children loitered about, looking hopeful for either mischief or play. Steve inhaled deeply, figuring that he’d continue to feel odd and out of place no matter what he did, but certain that he’d feel better once he’d visited his solicitor.

Mr. Coulson was due to arrive on the island within the week. Steve had corresponded with him before he’d departed from New York. Coulson had been to the West Indies many times, and had suggested they arrange for their travel schedules to align. He was the one who knew the most about Steve’s property in Jamaica, as he’d worked for and been closely acquainted with Steve’s late uncle, back in England. Steve hoped that Coulson would be there soon, as this was far from a leisure trip for him.

Coulson had warned Steve that there would be numerous steps to take, both legal and practical, before his end goal for the estate could be achieved. Nothing would be done in a day, little in a fortnight. It would take time, and both men had agreed to make themselves available on the island for not less than two months—and more, if need be. Steve himself had half a mind to winter over here and not return to New York until the spring.

It took a while before the ship was fully unloaded. Steve disembarked and stood by his trunks as he waited for his ride. He was to be picked up by a man from the estate, so he kept an eye out for anyone who might be looking for him, and in the meantime bought a sweet bread from a street vendor and sat eating it next to his luggage. Wiping his hands clean, he reached into his breast pocket and retrieved the letter which he’d received in the post several months ago—the letter that had started this whole journey. He unfolded the paper and read the words that he all but knew by heart, at this point:

꘏ Mister Steven Rogers, I hope this letter finds you well, and I send my condolences for the loss of your uncle. We are not acquainted, and indeed I’m sure you’ve never so much as heard my name spoken in conversation, as I have not spent time in New York in many years. I am writing in regards to what is going on at your property here. As I am sure you are aware, since the passing of your relation, Mr. Charles Cleland, the house of Shield Hall and all of its materials, peoples, and lands have come into your possession. As a fellow landowner on the island, I feel it is my duty to inform you that the operation which your uncle upkept in his lifetime has quickly deteriorated into a state of chaos and disrepair. The property is currently being mismanaged by several hired men, none of whom are keeping care of their charges, the land, or the profits that the land is meant to yield. Since this property is part of your estate, and your estate pays these very men’s wages, I felt I should write you. There is a great manor house which sits functionally abandoned, with hardly a single man watching over it day and night. Vagrants have had to be chased away more than once. Your working men and women number close to two hundred, and they all have been treated harshly and unfairly by the overseers, often deprived of suitable conditions. The harvests of this past year were summarily affected by these happenings. Word of the disorganization and abuse has reached many in the community already, and rumors abound of the great discontent brewing amongst your slaves. I have received only general description of you from my aunt in New York, but am sure that you are a fine man and will agree with me that it is our Christian duty to treat all of God’s children with dignity and fairness, including the negro man in bondage. I urge you to come at once and see for yourself, for only then can things be put right. Your respectful neighbor, J. Buchanan ꘏

Steve blinked down at the page, looking once more at that elegantly scrawled name: J. Buchanan. Only an educated and moneyed man would have such excellent penmanship, lending credence to the writer’s claims of who he was. But the letter was signed only with “J. Buchanan,” with no other identifying information given. It had arrived several months ago, posted from Kingston, Jamaica, but with no return address. Its author claimed to be a fellow landowner and wrote “neighbor” as his salutation, but when Steve had looked at records of land holdings on the island, he’d found no history of a Buchanan family.

Still, the stranger had thought the situation serious enough to contact Steve, and so whether the letter’s claims were true or not, Steve felt he should investigate. That was the only respectable thing to do, since it was his property now. The very land that made him rich.

That in itself was still novel. Steve had never owned much of anything, other than his house in Brooklyn which he’d inherited from his mother. He’d grown up privileged but not overly so, within the bounds of New York Society but never pursued the way that more moneyed gentlemen were. That had all changed once his uncle had passed and word got out that Steve now owned a large sugar plantation and all of the wealth that came with it. He’d spent the past twenty months fending off eager mothers and their daughters. Two seasons’ worth of balls, courtships, and fripperies had been useful in warding off the loneliness, but they were exhausting at the end of the day.

And then there was Miss Barclay, who was one of the many ladies being continually foisted upon him. Though she was the most agreeable, Steve still felt that his lungs could take in twice the amount of oxygen now that he knew he was a thousand miles away from her—an ungenerous sentiment, perhaps, but nonetheless true.

Steve hadn’t yet spent much of his newfound fortune, the habits of a widowed spendthrift mother having been ingrained in him since boyhood; but the one thing he had indulged in, was the singular luxury of a private box at the opera house. A veritable bidding war had commenced when the next box over came up for sale not long after. That was how Steve had gotten to know Alva over the arias of Fidelio and Silvana, her mother always looming nearby like a hawk searching out prey.

Though Steve enjoyed Miss Barclay’s company as well as any other lady’s, it’d been months of these not so subtle overtures, and he feared he would soon wind up engaged if things continued on the way they were. Traveling to Jamaica now, he’d narrowly avoided the crux of this year’s winter season. It was his hope that this sojourn would send the message of his disinterest without him having to actually turn the poor girl down. Steve was only twenty-eight, after all. He wasn’t ready for all of that.

Both his solicitor in New York and Mr. Coulson in London had told him not to worry about the details of his inheritance and the running of the estate in Jamaica, insisting that others were handling it and his bank account would remain well-padded without any direct interference. “Nasty business, sugar,” Coulson advised, pointing out that Steve’s late uncle hadn’t visited the island himself in decades. It was a common arrangement that absentee landlords would hire competent men to manage the operations of their plantations. The hired men at Shield Hall would continue to do so, Coulson had assured, whilst Steve continued to reap the benefits. Steve had believed it for a time, and had been sufficiently distracted by the demands and complications of his sudden shift in New York Society. But as soon as the letter from J. Buchanan had arrived, everything had changed.

Steve couldn’t ignore “the slave problem” anymore, and he had the exact excuse he needed to make a quick escape from the burgeoning weight of high society and all its expectations of him. He was grateful to J. Buchanan, whoever he was.

Carefully, he refolded the letter and tucked it back into his breast pocket. J claimed that conditions at Shield Hall were abusive. Steve couldn’t fathom a reason for a stranger to fabricate such a story. So here he was to see for himself. He was absolutely dreading it.

“There you are. Ha, I’d thought we’d lost you!” Steve looked up and saw Odinson approaching from across the cobblestone in long strides. “We’re nearly finished,” he said, eyeing up Steve’s luggage approvingly. “You pack light for a gentleman. You must have a sense of adventure!”

Steve gave a good-natured grimace. “I’d have said not, nineteen days ago, and yet here I stand.” He illustrated his meaning by looking about the wharf. Not even away from the docks yet, and already he’d seen a parrot with more colors in its feathers than any single living thing in Brooklyn. He scratched behind his ear. Life had been in color before, hadn’t it? Surely, New York wasn’t as dull and gray as his memory was now painting it. He said as much to Odinson, who agreed and noted the closest building’s bright coral stucco. That was when Steve caught sight of a crewmember lugging out his crate of painting supplies. “Oh! Over here! You can put that one just here. Thank you.” When Odinson raised an eyebrow, Steve explained, “Well, my easel and things. I paint. A bit.”

“An artist! Good for you.”

Steve blushed, but he could tell that Odinson meant no harm. Other men in Steve’s life had contrived plenty more obvious ways of telling him that it seemed foppish and silly for a man of his status to spend so much time on such a frivolous hobby. “Yes,” he agreed. “Subjects will be in no short supply, in this place.”

Captain Odinson bid him farewell once Steve’s helper arrived and made himself known. A large and competent man named M'baku had come from the estate with a carriage. Steve shook his hand and M'baku looked at him sternly and then announced that he would be Steve’s man whilst in town. (Steve feared that he might also be his property, but hadn’t yet gotten up the courage to ask.) “Erm … shall we be off?” he asked.

M'baku took the lead and indicated the carriage. He gruffly refused Steve’s help with the luggage, and sat up front on the bench while Steve rode as lone passenger. Since Shield Hall was located a ways outside of the city, and evening was nearly upon them, they sought out local accommodations. M'baku asked Steve what sort of place he wanted to go to. “Do you want a big room? Company?” he asked, a distinctive island accent clinging to his vowels. “There are a couple of places to choose from. Different.”

“Eh, anywhere will do,” Steve hemmed, adding offhandedly that he wouldn’t mind the company of others.

So M'baku drove them to the Royal Naval Hotel. It seemed a handsome establishment, lively even, with quite a few people loitering about the downstairs. Steve checked himself in and had his luggage sent up, then he walked to the lounge with M’baku by his side. There were many fine couches and tables for the hotel’s patrons to use. Steve and M'baku spoke together for a moment, discussing their plans for the next day, when they would meet again and depart for Shield Hall.

With that settled, M'baku seemed eager to leave, and Steve could see a fancily dressed woman standing in the doorway leading into the next parlor, hiding behind a partially tied back velvet drape. She was peeking out at M'baku and Steve with narrowed eyes, looking none too pleased.

Steve turned back to M'baku and thanked him again for his help, eager to not have the prim hotel ladies complaining to management about him so soon. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said in parting, and M'baku left as sternly as he’d arrived. Steve chanced a glance towards the draped doorway again, but the lady had turned away to converse with a gentleman. The backside of her gown faced Steve; a fine India silk and muslin, as was the fashion, but it was the amount of skin permitted to show which stood out. She wore no gloves, and Steve couldn’t keep his eyes from honing in at the low dip of the neckline which was nearly below the lady’s shoulder blades in the back.

That tantalizing stretch of skin continued up her back and slim neck, to the mass of dark curls piled atop her head. Steve hadn’t realized it when she was peering out from the shadows before, but she wasn’t white. His own gaze narrowed at her in distaste, finding it odd that she of all people would take issue with a colored manservant being briefly inside the room.

Not that it was any different in New York. Indeed, Steve had tried—and failed—on an occasion or two to get Sam in with him to a certain place or another. Sometimes, if enough money was being spent and the proprietors were the right sort and employed discretion, there wouldn’t be much of a fuss made over who Steve wanted to have with him. But in many places, other patrons would eventually complain. However it was normally white people doing the complaining and looking down their noses.

The lady in the fine gown reacted to something her companion said, drawing Steve’s attention to the sound of her laughter that was like a little, tinkling bell. His eyes flicked up, and over her shoulder he caught the gaze of the gentleman with whom she was speaking. The man was easing off from the grin of a joke he’d told, and his still-laughing eyes locked intently on Steve. For a split second, it was electric, something in the man’s glittering eyes stealing the breath from Steve’s lungs.

Steve hurriedly looked away, feeling caught out. He thought he’d seen the man’s mouth twitch up there at the end, but he hadn’t the courage to turn back and check. The man was very good looking, in a rakish sort of way, with an unshaven jaw and murky blue eyes set in a handsome face. He kept his hair longer than was the fashion, but pulled back in a way that suited his features. He looked older than Steve’s own twenty-eight years, perhaps a man of twenty and fifteen or more, and he moved with the loose sort of confidence that a man did when he knew himself to be attractive. He was the exact type of fellow whom Steve avoided looking at or being around any more than was strictly necessary, lest he look or linger too long.

He turned away and ambled over into the next parlor, where he leant against the bar top and found his reprieve. He told the barkeep he’d have some good sort of rum, and took his drink off to another of the downstairs parlors, planting himself on a velvet settee where he could be out of the way and still observe the room at large. The place grew more crowded as evening drew in, and Steve saw enough to become convinced that the Royal Naval Hotel was not just a hotel: It was a bawdyhouse.

In the span of an hour, he witnessed no less than five different girls, interacting indecently amorous with seven different men, before taking said men’s hands and leading the grinning dopes away. Steve couldn’t see where they went once out of the room, but he could make an educated guess. None of these ladies wore gloves, either.

Incredible, he thought, as he watched one of them returning to approach her second gentleman within the span of forty minutes. The game began all over again, and Steve felt shocked and yet fascinated by her practiced movements and speech. It was like watching a ballet: scandalous and still elegant, the girl comporting herself with grace and impropriety all at once. Steve felt his cheeks heat as she left the room with her newest suiter, and he went back to the bar to get himself another pour.

A piano took up in one of the rooms, heard throughout the place, and more men came in. The number of women multiplied as well, but at a ratio which substantially favored the men. There were a number of British naval officers present, and Steve felt even more uncomfortable about that than he had been being led around by M'baku. He’d never hurt a negro man before, after all. He had killed English soldiers, and quite recently at that.

The last time Steve had fought had been in Canada, less than two full years ago. Niagara, dead Indians just as plentiful as all the uniformed red-and-whites, bodies bleeding into the snow. Steve suddenly remembered that he’d resolved to not make his nationality overly apparent whilst visiting Jamaica—a very British colony. And he certainly wasn’t planning on letting anyone know about his recent military service. He hadn’t a clue what the English soldiers’ attitudes towards Americans were, but back in New York, no known Brit was yet tolerated in polite company, even these twenty long months after the war had ended. Steve was certain that he’d be treated poorly at best, pickpocketed or accosted in the street at worst.

Unsurprisingly, about half of the men who filled The Royal Naval Hotel’s downstairs parlors wore the royal naval uniform. Some of them sat in groups and drank together and laughed, others played cards, their behavior for the most part unremarkable. But the ones who were there for other services made their interest plainly known as the evening wore on, and the ladies of the room would respond and float over like swans bobbing to breadcrumbs on a pond. It was not possible to miss that all of the crumbs were white, and all of the swans were black.

They were black, and less black, light skinned, and very dark indeed; as exotic and varied as any man could want. Much like the very first lady whom Steve had observed, they all wore luxurious clothes in the current fashions, with their hair piled high and woven through with decoration, sweet silk shawls draped about their arms, necks left bare of any jewelry, bosoms powdered and presented. It really was a bit like watching the ballet, and as the evening wore on and Steve sat there drinking a second and then a third round of what the barkeep called “grog,” he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from their dance.

They spoke and whispered into the men’s ears with cultured English and sometimes French, and they moved and walked like true ladies of society (at least when they weren’t sneakily sliding their hands into places they oughtn't be). Many of the men seemed respectful at best and besotted at worst, but Steve did catch a few dark glances that they would share amongst themselves when they thought the women weren’t looking. The way they looked made Steve uncomfortable—less so for the impropriety of it all, and more so for how it made him recognize his own lack of such interest.

For a moment, he thought again of Alva, back in New York. She was a pretty and tolerable girl, well-mannered and quick-witted even, with an interest in the theater and the arts that, while not matching Steve’s own, was robust enough to hold a conversation. He had no real objections to her other than that he didn’t love her, which in itself wasn’t uncommon between couples courting engagements. The thing was though: Steve had never loved any girl at all. He’d never felt the real and pressing temptation that other men seemed to harbor deep within themselves. He lacked that natural inclination which made men’s eyes linger and their gazes go dark behind ladies’ backs.

Steve squirmed in his seat, agitated when he tried and failed to view the various prostitutes as the other men saw them: alluring, desirable, lustful. He thought they were very pretty and graceful, of course, but in the way that birds were pretty and that cats were graceful. He felt nothing more towards them. Certainly not the things that the British naval officers clearly felt. … Certainly not the things which Steve had been known to feel about certain men.

He felt his cheeks go hot as his mind strayed to the unbidden memory of a crowded house: Bleecker street, dark rooms filled with smoke and drink and chatter, people in less and less clothing the further in one went. A broad back, two men pulling off shirts, their squared jaws kissing against a couch. Steve had nearly dropped his brandy glass when he’d walked in on it. He’d always fraternized with the bohemian types through his interests in the arts, and parties in the Village were undoubtedly of a different ilk, but he’d never imagined that any man could just … would just …

And right there in the middle of an unlocked room, no less! With others not even ten paces away who might look, might see—who had seen, and had simply looked the other way.

The drapes in that Molly house had all been heavy and drawn.

Steve squinched his eyes shut to try and knock the memory from his mind. Perhaps he should choose a woman, he thought. Try and pretend for a night, maybe even awaken the desire inside himself that he was supposed to have. Steve had never been with a woman, so perhaps his perversion was only due to inexperience. Perhaps he could change, if only he put in some effort and sought out a beautiful, soft body.

He drank the last of his rum and kept hold of the glass, keen on going to the bar for another pour. Three miserable weeks at sea and not a drop had passed his lips. He was overdue to indulge in one way or another. And since he wasn’t likely to work up the nerve to actually pay a woman for her company, he thought he might as well drink. The rum was sweet, after all.

Just as he was about to stand, a dress’ hem appeared in his field of vision, the tiny white points of a lady’s satin slippers peeking out from the bottom. Slowly, Steve let his eyes trail up. Oh. It was the same girl as before, the one who’d observed Steve and M'baku with meanly narrowed eyes. She didn’t look quite so peevish now. Her dark hair was curled and styled to frame her face, her cream-in-coffee skin on prominent display in the shelf of her bosom against the dress. Her features were graceful and classically feminine, but she had a prominent forehead and a dimple in her chin that elevated her from simply pretty, to handsomely striking. Really, she seemed a girl of hardly twenty, but her perceptive eyes hinted that she might be older.

“Hello,” she said, stepping even closer, until Steve could smell her perfume. “I saw you alone over here and thought I’d come to say hello. Maybe even cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up?” Steve breathed, then sat there like a dummy, speechless for long seconds. He hadn’t entertained the possibility that any of the working women would focus their attentions on him. Not when there were so many other eager breadcrumbs fellows in the middle of the room. “Well, I’m uh, I don’t need … cheer,” is what he eventually said, the words coming out weaker than intended. He watched as the girl’s features pinched in a polite sort of titter at his expense. Steve could hardly blame her. He sounded like a regular moron.

She perched herself daintily on the cushion beside him. “Don’t be silly. Everyone needs company.” Her voice, Steve noted, was fluid and viscous, like warmed honey. She lacked the island twang and in its place there was a hint of French. “I’m Rebecca,” she introduced, holding out her hand.

Steve took it, grazing lips to the backs of her scandalously bare fingers. He let it go, and she placed it on his shoulder rather than back in her own lap. Steve gulped. Now he felt less like a breadcrumb and more like a worm on a hook. “I … I’m only just arrived,” he rasped, feeling the need to excuse his antisocial behavior. “Not staying long. I was about to go to my, um, room—to sleep, that is! Go to my room to sleep.” He coughed. “I, erm, have some business in the morning.”

Rebecca tilted her head, eyes glittering. “Don’t we all. But you must tell me your name, Sir. I’d remember if I’d seen someone who looks like you at the Royal Naval before.” She touched her finger to her chin, as if putting great effort into guessing. “Mm. You’re American?”

Steve hemmed, overly conscious of where she was still touching his shoulder. Never in his life had he experienced such forward attentions from a woman, not even from Miss Barclay and her mother. “Um, yes,” he bumbled. “American. I’m … am.” She giggled at him and Steve shook his head. “I’m not planning on making any public announcements about that, you know. I don’t want trouble. I'm only here because I’ve inherited land.” An American veteran in British territory, not even two full years since the war? Yes, discretion would be prudent. “I’m Steven Rogers,” he hastily added, realizing that he hadn’t returned the introduction. “Of New York.”

“Steven,” she cooed. “Oh, how lovely. Steven from New York. May I call you Steve?”

“Um,”

Her lashes lowered demurely. “I’m Rebecca. Rebecca Beauchêne Proctor-Polgreen.”

“That's a mouthful.”

She laughed and winked. “Oh, I don’t mind a mouthful.”

Steve felt his cheeks flame at the double entendre. He cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. Her hand was still on his shoulder, and he hadn’t a clue as to how he should politely inform her that he had no intention of paying for her services. Suddenly, he thought of how M'baku had phrased his question earlier: if Steve would like to stay in a place where he could find “company.”

Oh. Steve realized that he was an utter dolt. “Um, well. I appreciate your welcome, Miss, um …”

“Just Rebecca,” she teased.

“Right. Miss Rebecca. You’ve been most kind, but my travels have left me tired and I wasn’t particularly seeking the … the company of a lady this evening.” He waited, and sure enough, her hand was soon removed from his shoulder. He nearly sagged in relief.

“Oh,” Rebecca said. “Oh yes, well you wouldn’t know, being new to town and all. I ought to have said. I serve in a managerial capacity here, Steve.” She grinned. “I take care of the girls, you understand? I’m afraid it is the rare gentleman whom I invite up to my private quarters, these days.” As Steve’s face continued to reach new levels of heat, she stood again and went to take his empty glass from the table. “A welcome is all I had on offer for you, handsome as you are. That, and any of my flock whom you might fancy.” Her eyes skimmed brazenly up and down Steve’s form. “I daresay they’ll fight each other for a chance at you.”

“Pardon,” Steve spluttered. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” He could see it now: how much more expensive her dress was than the other girls’, how fine the combs in her hair, the gold dangling from her ears. “Madam,” he said, “You have my apologies, please.” She waved him off, obviously unoffended and perhaps even amused. Steve realized that he was wasting his good manners, blundering and blushing the way he was.

Rebecca gestured at him with his empty cup in hand. “Don’t stress, Steve from New York. You’re on Caribbean time now. ‘Eaze and breeze’.” Her voice picked up the lilt of the island accent there at the end, and she sauntered back across the parlor to hand Steve’s glass over to the barkeep to be refilled.

Steve felt glued in place until she returned with yet another helping of rum, which he was sure he didn’t need. “Thank you,” he managed, sipping it only to be polite. Between his previous three rounds and the thinly-veiled obscenity of the atmosphere, he felt drunk already. Luckily, Miss Rebecca seemed to understand his discomfort and soon left him alone, though not without giving him one last wink and a pointed nod in the direction of her company of girls.

Steve wilted, watching as she went about that parlor and the next, stopping to chat with different groups of gentlemen—some with girls in their laps, and some without—never staying in one place for long. Steve felt foolish for not having realized her as the madame that she clearly was. It was so obvious now, as he watched her in the dance of the room and its ladies. She was the prima ballerina in a sea of coryphées.

After some time had passed, Steve felt himself quite literally falling asleep in his chair. Dear lord, he needed to go to bed. He abandoned his cup and stood, heading back out towards the main lobby. Tomorrow would be a productive day, he resolved as he went up to his room. He could start on what he’d come out here to do in the first place, not sit around bawdyhouse parlors making a fool of himself.

He’d just turned at the top of the stair when he caught sight of Rebecca again. It was dark and she didn’t see him, facing the other way. But the gentleman with her did. It was that same man with whom she’d been speaking before, downstairs when Steve first arrived with M'baku.

Steve gulped and stood very still, not wanting to be noticed and drawn into conversation. The man seemed to know this, as he smirked secretively in Steve’s direction but continued on in his murmured conversation with Rebecca. The two of them stood just outside one of the doors of the long upstairs hallway, and Steve pressed himself back against the wall in an attempt to be unobtrusive.

If the fellow was going to pay to spend the night with her, why didn’t he just get on with it already? They remained there speaking for long enough that Steve had ample time to appreciate the man’s features all over again. He was as tall as Steve, which was in itself uncommon, with a straight nose and shapely lips, not to mention a strong, unshaven jaw that all but had Steve’s mouth watering in a way that he was loath to admit. He held his breath as he was shot another leer from over Rebecca’s shoulder. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’dve said the man seemed almost amused at him.

The man bent to kiss Rebecca on her cheek. He took her hand and opened the door to the room, leading her through before himself. And when he turned to close it from the other side, he paused and stared long enough to make Steve’s blood stir, before shutting himself away behind the wood.

Steve was left feeling unsettled, and not sure that he’d entirely imagined the heated look in the other man’s eye. This fellow, he surmised, must be one of the ‘rare gentlemen’ who merited invitation into Miss Rebecca’s private quarters.

Steve put himself to bed hastily that night, aroused and frustrated as to the cause of it. And despite his long-held resolve to never touch himself to the thought of another man, he was soon reminded that even he couldn’t control what things crept into his dreams.

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jules-has-notes · 3 months ago

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2019 VoicePlay winter travels — let it snow, make it rain, feel the love

After a reasonably busy autumn and holiday season, VoicePlay eased into the new year by spending a little more time with their families. Then they got back to work with new musical arrangements, ambitious music video projects, and live shows.

On the road again

As they did for many years, the boys began their travels with a trip to New York for the annual Association of Performing Arts Professionals conference. They did some networking with other artists, and performed a showcase set to allow potential bookers to see what they have to offer.

During the few days they had at home, J.None and sound guy Paul released an original song they'd been working on. Then VoicePlay hit the road again for a weekend in Indiana.

First up was a return to the Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology in Terre Haute, where they'd last played three years earlier. An unexpected joy of the night was meeting a couple dozen high school singers from a town just across the state line in Illinois, who were brought by their teachers.

Terre Haute show — photo by Nancy Mongomery // choral students from Charleston (Illinois) High School — photo from the Journal Gazette & Times Courier

The following day, they drove up to Wabash for their next concert. Sadly, they had to hurry to the airport right after the show rather than doing the usual meet-and-greet, lest a nasty winter storm prevent them from getting home.

Wabash, IN show — photo by Carolyn Schult

While they were home for the week, Layne and Tony finished up a fun video that PattyCake had produced for YouTuber Danny Gonzalez. On the VoicePlay side of things, Eli did an interview with a reporter from the Kitsap Sun about the group's origins and performance philosophy in advance of their two upcoming shows in western Washington state.

When the weekend rolled around, the boys took to the skies again. They started in Bellingham, near the Canadian border, then scooted down Puget Sound to Bremerton.

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While the other guys headed home again, Eli met up with Ashley and popped over to Seattle to begin their anniversary vacation travels.

Night out, night in

In the middle of the week, J.None headed over to Clearwater to see a gaggle of friends. Echo were the local openers for DCappella at the second stop on their national tour. That allowed J to reunite with his colleagues in the first-wave DCap cast and musical director Deke Sharon, and let beatboxer Antonio Fernandez spend a night with his former bandmates.

Meanwhile, Layne spent the evening at home doing a bit of culinary experimentation, using advice from fitness enthusiast Earl.

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Love is in the air

Over the next week, VoicePlay spent several days capturing footage for their first music video of the year, an expanded version of "Grow Old With You" from The Wedding Singer.

They like us!

The end of the month brought a lovely surprise when the nominees for the Shorty Awards were announced. VoicePlay found themselves in fine company for the Best YouTube Musician category.

Doing the work

February was comparatively quiet as the fellas worked on various projects that were in progress and planned for the months ahead. J.None played a few events with Paradigm Party Band, including a laser-tastic gig for Google at the House of Blues.

Later in the month, VoicePlay headed to the REBL HQ studio at Full Sail University for a day to film two new videos for their PartWork series. First up was ELO's "Mr. Blue Sky", which they'd been performing at live shows for a while. The second was a full version of "Any Way You Want It" by Journey. Fans had been requesting that for several years, since they'd included a portion of it in the polyphony section of "Don't Stop Believin'".

Puttin' on the glitz

March started off swanky, as the guys were part of the entertainment for a gala / charity fundraiser in advance of the grand opening of a new IPIC movie theater in Delray Beach. Some other acts for the night were the lovely ladies of The American Sirens (who VoicePlay and PattyCake fans might recognize) and Rockette-style dancers from Zhantra Events.

photos courtesy of The American Sirens

Congratulations all around

A few days later, Eli returned to the Full Sail campus to help their buddy Rek Dunn celebrate finishing his degree.

And a few days after that, the boys were very pleased to learn that they'd advanced to the final round of their category for the Shorty Awards.

That's a wrap

On the video production front, Layne and Tony finished up their next PattyCake project, a Disney-fied version of Maroon 5's "Girls Like You" featuring a cavalcade of animated ladies.

Then VoicePlay gathered at Rayne's Room to record their next "Aca Top 10" video, themed around Disney villains.

Rollin', rollin', rollin'

In the middle of the month, VoicePlay hit the road once more, starting with a workshop and concert in Harrisburg, PA.

Over the weekend, J.None and his family popped down to Tampa to support his Americal Idol buddy Clark Beckham at his album release show. J even jumped on stage for a song or two.

The next week, they headed back to the Rockies for another high-altitude concert in Beaver Creek, CO. The air was still a bit thin, but that was balanced by getting to see their artist friend Leon.

Their final gig of the season was closer to home, just a quick drive down to Naples, FL. In a fun coincidence, Layne's brother- and sister-in-law also had a show in town with their band on the same night, so the two groups met up for dinner.

backstage smiles // post-show dinner with family

Fingers crossed

The cherry on top of a fun weekend was receiving two nominations for the A Cappella Music Awards. The five of them were up for Best Pop Group, and Earl was in the running for Best Male Vocalist. Several of their friends were also nominated in other categories, which gave them even more to root for.

All in all, the year was off to a pretty great start. There was plenty more fun to come, but that's a tale for another time.

#VoicePlay #traveling musicians #behind the scenes #long post #link-o-rama

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youngchronicpain · 1 year ago

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hey srry if this is an odd question but I saw that you use/used an EZ Lite Cruiser and I was wondering abt your experiences with it (+ the company) / if you would recommend it to others? Specifically how it handles slopes steeper than most ramps, shitty sidewalks, wet / somewhat icy roads, etc and also if it holds up well after a couple years. No pressure to respond if you don’t have the time/energy, hope you’re doing well!

I love my EZ Lite Crusier! I got it in 2018 and it has gotten me around my house, my yard, and the US. My dad had to replace a bunch of parts last year (I somehow bent something on the wheels and they were wonky for awhile, but he's a mechanic so it was no biggie) but it was honestly great up to that point. I've flown with it countless times as well.

The only thing I will say is that when I first got it, the first chair totally stopped working after my first 20 minute trip around the yard. But the company was great and replaced it as quickly as they could. (It took about a week.)

The reason I got this specific chair was because it could recline, which was something I absolutely needed. Plus, it had a bigger wheel option which I love for going on grassy areas and dirt trails that are a little uneven. It will sometimes slide a bit when going down a wet steep path, but that is to be expected, I think.

I've only used it with very light snowfall, so I can't speak on its use on ice and heavy snow.

(Weight mention tw: for reference, I was around 215 lbs at 5'11 when I first got it and 172 lbs at my lightest using it. The chair has been comfortable for me at all different weights, though I use more cushions to make the fit better when I'm closer to the bottom of the weight range.)

But please do your research on the other chairs available! There are many other options now and I can't confidently tell you this is the best foldable powerchair, I can just tell you it has been an amazing powerchair for me.

Places I've been using my EZ in the US: Las Vegas, NYC, Portland, Austin, Helen, Denver, Ouray, New Orleans, Knoxville, Charleston (WV), Houston, Tupelo, and all around Florida.

Just to illustrate that I've put some good miles on her. I wish you the best in finding the powerchair that works for you!! My powerchair has changed my life and enabled me to move about the world much more comfortably. I hope the same for you. ❤️

#weight mention #ez lite cruiser #powerchair #ambulatory wheelchair user #chronic pain

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gaymortagokat · 2 years ago

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Character Analysis: Reyna

Part 2A: Analysis Based on Other’s Chapters

Intro:

Just as a reminder/disclaimer while reading, the page numbers seen below may not line up with a physical copy of the books since I got them based on my digital copies. It may feel a bit essay-like, so sorry in advance for that it helps me be more precise with my words. And for obvious reasons everything below this paragraph contains spoilers to Heroes of Olympus books. If you haven’t read part 1 you can here .

The goal of this section is to go into more detail of what specific characters have noticed about Reyna and what it says about her character as well as go into a bit of their relationship. It will stay in timeline order as much as possible unless there are quotes that support the same idea. Anything mentioned in the above sections will not be gone over again in this section unless it relates to a character’s observations of Reyna in a way that wasn’t already stated.

Jason

Jason is easily one of the most important people in Reyna’s life. This section will explore their connection from Jason’s perspective because it is the only detailed perspective of it that is available in the books. This section will also reveal information that Jason knows about Reyna, though it may be incomplete.

First what will be explored is the never would have happened romance between them. This almost couple is something that from Jason’s perspective wouldn't have happened. In The Lost Hero as his memory slowly returns all Jason remembers is Reyna’s name and that she might have felt the same way about her that he feels about Piper (page 409). By the time The Mark of Athena Jason remembers more. He remembers a trip to Charleston where Reyna spoke to what he thought was a ghost and was shaken up about it after, wouldn’t tell him what happened,and as he says “Reyna never acted the same around me after that,” -Reyna would later have her one perspective on this conversation which will be explored later (The Mark of Athena page 168). In this quote Jason might not know/remember how Reyna felt about him but he did notice how she started treating him differently.

Earlier in the book, he does remember how he feels about Reyna saying “It’s just…I never felt that way toward Reyna,” on page 122 of The Mark of Athena. Which leads to the next section. His guilt.

In The House of Hades we learn that Jason feels quite guilty for what he had done to Reyna. In short, he feels guilty for two things: 1) letting “her believe they had a future together” instead of shutting her down and 2) he disappeared leaving her to run camp alone and when he returned and abruptly left he left her to deal with a war (page 182). His guilt about point 2 is further explored on page 313 where he says “She needed his help. If he turned his back on her…someone like Octavian could take over and ruin everything Jason did love about New Rome. Could he be so selfish as to leave?” (The House of Hades). His guilt doesn’t show that their friendship could end, in fact, at the very least it shows how much he cares about her.

Even after Jason’s actions, his perspective shows that they still trust and believe in each other. Shortly after fleeing New Rome in The Mark of Athena, Jason suggests contacting Reyna knowing that she would believe what they have to say (page 111). In The House of Hades during Jason’s dream where he sees Reyna in New York Reyna says “If they are sailing for Greece, I know a place Jason will stop,” showing how she knows Jason (187). This idea of trust continues on page 200 where Jason, having gone exactly where Reyna said he would, states how much he trusts that Reyna will find the note he is leaving for her (The House of Hades). As for how much belief in Reyna Jason has, he says “I’d never bet against Reyna. If anyone can make it, she will,” (The House of Hades 191). Based off this line, despite everything in the last 8 months Jason knows he can still count on Reyna to be there for him and by extension the mission.

Jason’s point of view for the most part demonstrates his relationship with Reyna, but in The House of Hades at least two important details about Reyna are revealed. 1) “Nobody ever used Reyna’s full name” and 2) “she hated telling anyone what it was” (page 184). The reason behind wanting to use her full name is that Reyna see’s it as the name of her childhood self and she abandoned the name when she left San Juan, Puerto Rico where she grew up (The House of Hades page 184). There are many possible reasons for doing this. First thing to understand is: in the Percy Jackson Universe/ the Riordanverse, names are said to contain power. This is generally in reference to the gods and titans as stated by Mr. D. in The Lightning Thief. In real life, a person’s name is their identity.

Abandoning a name does a couple things for a person. Choosing what to be called (ie what name a person wants people to use) means that person is taking control of their identity. Abandoning a name also creates a separation between then and now. Both of these things can exist at the same time and separately from one another. At the time of The House of Hades we have nothing that suggests why Reyna might have abandoned her childhood name, and we won’t have that information until The Blood of Olympus. This set of facts will be revisited again later through Reyna’s perspective and Nico’s.

#reyna avila ramirez arellano #Heroes of Olympus #jason grace #character analysis #My writing #I would tag their ship but its not really in the post #long post #next is percy btw

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charfletchh · 11 months ago

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who: @ash-morse

when: the dog days of midsummer

CF to AM: where u attttt (8:27 AM)

CF to AM: like srsly. i’m in charleston. wya. (8:28 AM)

CF to AM: if u don’t text me back ash i swear to god i’ll buy a billboard and put a picture of ur dick on it. here in your hometown. (8: 48 AM)

charlie was on a great adventure. her dad would disagree - in one of his several voicemails over the last couple days, he’d referred to her impromptu road trip as a delusion of grandeur, fool’s errand, or epic folly. she’d mistake this for concern for her if he hadn’t ended each with “charlotte, if you don’t bring back that bentley, i will call the police!” in fairness to him, the car was probably worth more than her.

but he wouldn’t call the cops; it would make too much of a scene. so his hands were tied as charlie was free to roam across the country for the remainder of summer vacation on a grand trip of debauchery and hedonism. you know, since she didn’t have anything else to do and had no future. why not?

she honked unceremoniously outside the house the internet had told her belonged to the morse family. “ashley! stop hiding from me!”

#okkkk lmk if u want me to change anything!!!#also lmk if the formatting is fucked up first time trying to post from ipad #ft: ashley #wow.#♦‘ﾟ‣ {.chats } — ❝ i’m spiraling all over the place ❞

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rockislandadultreads · 2 years ago

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Libby Spotlight: Horror eAudiobooks

The House Across the Lake by Riley Sager

Casey Fletcher, a recently widowed actress trying to escape a streak of bad press, has retreated to the peace and quiet of her family’s lake house in Vermont. Armed with a pair of binoculars and several bottles of bourbon, she passes the time watching Tom and Katherine Royce, the glamorous couple living in the house across the lake. They make for good viewing—a tech innovator, Tom is powerful; and a former model, Katherine is gorgeous.

One day on the lake, Casey saves Katherine from drowning, and the two strike up a budding friendship. But the more they get to know each other—and the longer Casey watches—it becomes clear that Katherine and Tom’s marriage isn’t as perfect as it appears. When Katherine suddenly vanishes, Casey immediately suspects Tom of foul play. What she doesn’t realize is that there’s more to the story than meets the eye—and that shocking secrets can lurk beneath the most placid of surfaces.

Bird Box by Josh Malerman

Something is out there . . .

Something terrifying that must not be seen. One glimpse and a person is driven to deadly violence. No one knows what it is or where it came from.

Five years after it began, a handful of scattered survivors remain, including Malorie and her two young children. Living in an abandoned house near the river, she has dreamed of fleeing to a place where they might be safe. Now, that the boy and girl are four, it is time to go. But the journey ahead will be terrifying: twenty miles downriver in a rowboat—blindfolded—with nothing to rely on but her wits and the children's trained ears. One wrong choice and they will die. And something is following them. But is it man, animal, or monster?

Engulfed in darkness, surrounded by sounds both familiar and frightening, Malorie embarks on a harrowing odyssey—a trip that takes her into an unseen world and back into the past, to the companions who once saved her. Under the guidance of the stalwart Tom, a motely group of strangers banded together against the unseen terror, creating order from the chaos. But when supplies ran low, they were forced to venture outside—and confront the ultimate question: in a world gone mad, who can really be trusted?

This is the first volume in the “Bird Box” series.

The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

Patricia Campbell's life has never felt smaller. Her ambitious husband is too busy to give her a goodbye kiss in the morning, her kids have their own lives, her senile mother-in-law needs constant care, and she's always a step behind on thank-you notes and her endless list of chores. The one thing she has to look forward to is her book club, a close-knit group of Charleston women united by their love of true crime and paperback fiction. At these meetings they're as likely to talk about the Manson family as they are marriage, motherhood, and neighborhood gossip.

This predictable pattern is upended when Patricia meets James Harris, a handsome stranger who moves into the neighborhood to take care of his elderly aunt and ends up joining the book club. James is sensitive and well-read, and he makes Patricia feel things she hasn't felt in twenty years. But there's something off about him. He doesn't have a bank account, he doesn't like going out during the day, and Patricia's mother-in-law insists that she knew him when she was a girl—an impossibility.

When local children go missing, Patricia and the book club members start to suspect James is more of a Bundy than a Beatnik—but no one outside of the book club believes them. Have they read too many true crime books, or have they invited a real monster into their homes?

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward

In a boarded-up house on a dead-end street at the edge of the wild Washington woods lives a family of three.

A teenage girl who isn't allowed outside, not after last time.

A man who drinks alone in front of his TV, trying to ignore the gaps in his memory.

And a house cat who loves napping and reading the Bible.

An unspeakable secret binds them together, but when a new neighbor moves in next door, what is buried out among the birch trees may come back to haunt them all.

#horror #horror novels #audiobooks #audio fiction #Libby #Library Books #Book Recommendations #book recs #Reading Recs #reading recommendations #TBR pile #tbr #tbrpile #to read #Want To Read #Booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

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irishgolfadventure · 2 years ago

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Redemption at Tralee

Today I was getting to play a course that I have played a couple of times before the Tralee Golf Links. It is one of my favorite courses that I have ever gotten to play. It’s one beautiful, challenging but fair course with some of the most amazing views you’ll ever see on a golf course.

I was paired with a couple from Seattle and a single golfer from Charleston. After yesterday’s performance, I was a little concerned about playing with a group that may have higher expectations of play than I could deliver. I quickly found out that we were of equal golf skills!

The Golf God’s decided to let up on me today as far as pot bunkers go. I did get into three bunkers, two fairway and one green side. The fairway bunkers were deep in the direction of the green but you could walk into them from the back. So in order to avoid major catastrophes I actually putted backwards out of the bunker and took my punishment. I wasn’t going to advance the balls that far toward the green with a good shot anyway!

That kind of brilliant course management:-) helped me shoot my second best score of the trip - 86 (42-44). Seven pars, no triples or higher!! Finished my round parring the last three out of four holes!! Yeah for me! I’ll post a few more pictures than normal today.

Kim has had a busy day with calls and will be finishing out her day at 7:30 tonight. She has calls in all U.S. time zones (5 to 8 hours earlier than here) so it can make for a long day for her! She’s a trooper!! I’ve asked her to keep her voice down on the calls so I could hear the announcers calling the PGA tournament......just kidding, You know what kind of reception I would get from Mrs. Bell if I dared be so bold and insensitive!! :-)

We’re off to the iconic Foley’s Bar and Restaurant in Killarney later tonight and then we’re travel to Ballybunion tomorrow to play one of the most renown courses in the world. Tom Watson and many other notable professional golfers have listed it as their favorite course. Praying that my golf good fortunes continue! Blessings to all! gb

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anavatazes · 1 year ago

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Mara on a trip to Downtown Charleston. With her Armor on. We stopped for a minute because sometimes Mommy gets anxiety from idiots who don't know how to maneuver in an old city like Charleston. It's too hot to get out and walk, which sucked. But she had many words, soooo many words for people who walked by. I need to get her goggles. Mara had goggles. This one should, too. She refuses the helmet (she's not a very good Mandalorian), but goggles would be a start.

I am procrastinating. Exhausted after yesterday. I need to get some freelance work done. But, mini- vertigo attack, coupled with a cluster fuck migraine last night and maybe three hours of sleep? Yeah. Good thing I haven't accepted any jobs yet. Well, I guess I could update some of my certifications and see if the DoD is hiring again. It was fun working with them. Paid for some of my student loans, I was eligible for discounts all over the place, and I could work on my own, at my pace. On my schedule. With the occasional team ups and check ins. It was beautiful and I miss it. And that was when I was still baking 🥰. Now, as an Accountant, who knows? My MiL used to be an Accountant contractor for them. Saw the perks she had, and it was awesome. Worth it. Especially the pay. And a lot of it is switching over to remote work. Which I am set up for. Better for my immune system, anyway.

Yup, still procrastinating 🤣. As I dropped daughter #3 off at therapy, she said to put Joel down so I could get some work done. I asked, "shouldn't it be he put me down 😏?" She Deadpanned, "Both" and walked away. I love my kids ❤️. They get me. Even when I'm on my bullshit, they get me 🥰.

I'ma sit here, kicking my feet, giggling, smiling bashfully, and sighing a lot, procrastinating like a queen.

#alaskan malamute #joel miller #pedro pascal #jobs #queen of procrastination when i wanna be

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a-lbeit · 2 years ago

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2022: a year in review

i never ended up writing one of these for 2021, so maybe i’ll throw some stuff from there in here, too

a brief summary of 2021--benny, soaring highs and a rock-bottom low, exercise, school, getting reacquainted with the working world and working more than ever before, trying to become more attuned to adulthood, reuniting with old friends, car ownership, and uncertainty

alright, now onto 2022. i would like to write more about 2021, and i wish i had done so earlier like i should have, but, as we all know, life just strikes you sometimes. those memories and experiences, or at least the essences of them, will be there for me to reminisce on and reference.

rang in the new year at benny’s house, drunk with coworkers and benny’s friends. it was messy, but hey, a new year’s kiss is always something to smile about when you look back on it.

got boosted

had a visit from my parents. the first time i’d seen them in over 2 years--since i had broken my ankle and gone back to charleston for a few weeks. it was such a perfect week, one that i will forever cherish. they took the train out here, across the country like they’d talked about doing for so long. we went to riverside, to the house my father spent several childhood years in. he hadn’t seen it since then, i don’t think. we went up mt. rubidoux, something he’d always wanted to do. i took them to disneyland, of course, with benny, who they also finally had a chance to meet. we rode the holiday version of it’s a small world, which so fortuitously had a longer stint at the resort than usual because it had opened late because of a flooded mechanics room or something. took them to the top of the world and to urth caffe and the huntington library. i cried when they left.

had to get tested weekly for covid at work for a while; it was kind of fun to get bumped to take it on the clock. things were looking kinda bad again with covid for a while there, and i got slightly worried that the park would close again.

had a visit from lauren and david. we all stayed in an airbnb together and i showed them around socal. we went to san diego, disney (of course), la, huntington gardens. benny’s and my first anniversary happened somewhere in there. it was sunny and beautiful and lauren got a tattoo :)

stayed at a cabin in wrightwood for valentine’s day with benny. it was relaxing, sexy, and we even got just enough snow for it to be romantic but not a burden. we played pool, cooked, walked, and shopped around with little to no worries for a few days. on the way back, we went to the mcdonald’s museum in san bernardino.

went to the parks with friends. it’s nice to be able to do that stuff again--sometimes i think about how “normal” our lives have become again in the wake of covid and i realize i forget how easily things can change in our puny little lives

went to a wedding expo with mindy. i enjoyed it, but i think more and more about how i don’t want a wedding celebration.

disney had a little cast member event for the (then) upcoming toontown renovation before it closed for the next year. it was cute to be a part of that.

gas prices went up, up, up, and we all felt it

had a little date night with benny at this really cool bar in huntington. i wish we had time (read: i wish i put in more effort to have more time and energy) to do more of that

received melissa and glenn’s wedding announcement. i was nervous to be her maid of honor but so excited

saw so many snails

did our little semiannual vegas trip. it’s always nice to hang with benny’s best friend and see the hoover dam and just have fun. we played twilight zone mini golf, went to a cirque show (thanks to miguel’s roommate), got dutch bros, swam in lake mead. the whole bit. benny and i even got matching temporary tats.

made the difficult decision to remove my eyebrow piercing. it had migrated a lot and my management team had said a couple things to my leads about the prominence of the plastic retainer. maybe some day i’ll pierce it again. i miss it sometimes, but i knew it was time. it didn’t look good anymore after constantly having to switch out the jewelry.

had a roommate reunion at disney with rozi, taleeah, and daisy. it was nice. i miss living with them.

parallel parked my heart out. i can fit almost anywhere.

helped john krasinski and emily blunt at autopia :)

went to the parks with mindy for her birthday. i’m so grateful to have her in my life, to have someone so different yet similar to me.

appreciated and loved fred more and more. he deserves the blue nametag more than anyone.

went to a couple disney cast member softball games. it’s fun to watch your coworkers play.

somewhere in between all this, i interviewed (for the second time) to become a trainer at autopia, and my manager told me yes--i was very wary and jaded when he told me, since he told me no last time without having that clear of a reason. but he congratulated me and i was grateful that he saw potential in me.

had a cute 4am shift. we had to help test the speed of the cars. it was beautiful, and fred bought us breakfast. a national treasure.

i needed the first two weeks in june off, and management granted me a personal leave. sometimes, i really do appreciate them.

finally, the day came. i flew back to charleston for the first time since my broke ass ankle to celebrate melissa and glenn. and i took benny along for the ride. we flew in, reunited with my parents, got some finishing touches for the bachelorette party (freaking out in the meantime). the other bridesmaids and i took melissa to brunch, a lil gift exchange, and a sunset cruise piloted (is that the right word?) by her favorite high school teacher. it was nice, lowkey day. and then the rehearsal dinner was the next day and the wedding the next. melissa looked so beautiful (as she always does) and the wedding was perfect. the ceremony took place outside and it started to rain beforehand, so they ended up pushing it back an hour and having a cocktail hour first. everything worked out and the lighting was perfect. i loved seeing melissa and glenn’s first dance and her dance with her parents. and i was so grateful to her to include me in the day. she’s my oldest friend and i love her so much.

in the couple days after the wedding, i hung with my parents and lauren and david. we did a ghost tour and, most importantly, went to waffle house.

immediately after, benny and i flew to denver. somehow for the past 2 years, i had been taking classes and completing the requirements for my master’s degree, and i was sure as hell gonna walk in my graduation. we took a night flight and arrived in denver late; we stayed overnight in the airport to save some money. it surprisingly wasn’t too bad, except for waking up at one point to a man on the other side of the bench shaking around. but it was okay. we left in the morning and went to the university of denver campus so i could take a covid test, then got some food from a turkish restaurant nearby while we waited to check in to our airbnb. when the time finally came and we got to our room, i was so happy to not have to lug around my heavy suitcase anymore. we showered and headed downtown to walk around and get some dinner at a place a coworker of ours had recommended. he recommended a lot of stuff since he used to live in the area, but i think that’s the only one we ended up taking.

i also got a phone call that day from our scheduler asking me about scheduling my training to be a trainer, since the days went against my availability. i was nervous to see it on my next schedule, but excited to have it finally happen.

on our walk around, we went to voodoo doughnuts and ordered one each, but the worker gave us double. it’s always an exciting treat to get more than you pay for.

spent the next day exploring denver. we toured the capitol (and got a beautiful view of the rockies from the balcony of the dome), explored cute shops, and i felt pretty dead at a couple points. i fell asleep on a bench for a minute, but it was all right. we ended at a foresty bar my friend had recommended and played foosball.

the next day, i officially ‘graduated.’ there was cake at the reception before the actual ceremony, and then we sat through 3 hours of names being called before it was finally time for my section. benny is such patient man. i met up with him after it finally ended (he sat in the audience; i sat with the other graduates), and he had gotten me a lei and a teddy bear wearing a cap and gown. we got dinner at an italian place my friend had recommended,

the next day was our last in denver. we explored some more, including checking out a zine library and getting pics in a big tire. we ended the day with takeout in the park along the river next to the huge REI.

we rented a car and headed to boulder for a couple days. on the way, we stopped at a wildlife refuge and almost got caught in a lightning storm. everything was great until we tried to arrive at our airbnb up a dark, windy road quite late (around 10pm or so, maybe), only to find a dark house. we rang the bell a couple times and eventually, a shirtless man answered and said there was no airbnb here. i would have panicked if we didn’t have a car that we could have slept in. however, we ended up heading back into town and spent $200 on a hotel. we sure as hell stuffed ourselves at the free breakfast the next day and booked a new airbnb for the rest of the time. airbnb was incredibly helpful and refunded us as well as gave us some credit for the next airbnb. it was an ordeal, but it was okay.

we didn’t let that mishap affect us too much. we had things to do. after we got everything situated, we headed up to estes park to take the aerial tram as well as visit the stanley. it was a beautiful day, in the end. we even took that long road in rocky mountain national park that goes all the way to the top to see the sunset and the snow on the ground. and when we arrived at our new airbnb, everything was just as described, and they even had 2 dogs that almost made me become a dog person--they were fluffy, well-groomed, and quiet.

we went back into the national park the next day for a horseback ride and some hiking. i got very sniffly after the ride (i guess i’m a bit allergic to horses) and napped for a bit in the car. we did a beautiful and uncrowded hike to one of the alpine lakes.

the next day was our flight home, but we had the morning still. we said goodbye to the dogs and went to red rocks before going to the airport. our flight ended up getting delayed, so i asked for meal vouchers. again, we stuffed ourselves.

went back to work. a few days later was benny’s birthday. at the time, my friend rozi was working at this company that’s sort of a blend of airbnb and a hotel, and she majorly hooked it up and got us a 3-night stay at this beautiful property in laguna for free. i surprised benny, although i had to train people at work during a couple of the days. that place was low-key and luxurious.

got signed off as a trainer, although i sucked at time management at first. but we all do.

the day i had my star tours refresh class, i did practically nothing all day at work. it was glorious

i was so tan in the summer. i’m sure i’ll get there again this summer (while still lathering on sunscreen, of course)

a few days before my birthday, benny got covid. i spent the days around it getting free food; on my birthday, i took a solo trip to the san diego area and laid on the beach. i was a bit lonely, but i’m also in love with spending time with myself. i’ve always known how introverted and independent i am, but i’ve really realized over the past year that i need to spend significant amounts of time in my life by myself.

got retrained at nemo a little while after benny did. they had a photo session for us while we were still cycling before the ride officially reopened, and we got really cute pictures that i’ll always treasure. once it reopened, though, we all quickly realized that if you had nemo knowledge, you were stuck at nemo. i was mad that my fellow trainers were getting training shifts and i was stuck.

put up shelves in my bedroom lmao

went to natalie’s baby shower. i was scared but also so happy for her. she was ready. and the shower was beautiful

had a much-needed day with rozi--we got our cars washed (for free, of course), had coffee and acai at our old place, and ended up at disneyland. it had been too long.

got a tour of walt’s apartment

became full-time soon after i turned 26. thank god--i now needed health insurance.

saw shakey graves with benny--i miss the time in my life where i was obsessed with him and live music. i think i’ve said this before, but i’ve kind of outgrown concerts. it was a time in my life i’ll always treasure, though. it makes me miss college and especially dc--taking the metro to the 9:30 club and the anthem.

started my first solo training set

benny and i took a cruise! it a short 4-night, 3-day cruise, and it was perfect. we stuffed our fucking faces, went swimming at the beach in catalina, took a taxi in mexico and got free alcohol, and explored the ship. i know cruises are so awful for the environment (the irony of graduating just about 2 months prior with a master’s in environmental policy and management, i know), but goddamn, they’re so much fun and honestly quite cheap if you do it right. the morning of debarkation, though, i got a text (once we regained service) from my mom asking me to call her. i figured i would do it after we got off the ship, but then she ended up calling me (she had actually sent the message the previous evening) during breakfast to tell me my grandmother had died. i was so so grateful that i’d had the opportunity to see her one last time back in june when benny and i went to charleston for melissa’s wedding. otherwise, i probably wouldn’t have seen her since 2019 when my ankle was broken. i couldn’t even imagine what my father was feeling. he had found her gasping for air after he brought dinner to her apartment for her. she didn’t make it through the night.

the next day, went right back into finishing my first solo training set. my stomach hurt, i guess from the food and the news. one of my trainees, a transfer from custodial, confided in me that she wanted to stop training and go back to custodial. we talked to management and made that happen for her. it felt nice to be able to support her during all of it.

a killer heat wave made work laughably awful--but that’s climate change for ya, i guess

went to the dentist for the first time in about 3 years. they removed my ‘old-school’ metal retainers (which, admittedly, the top one had broken) and got me set up for new plastic ones to wear overnight. no cavities!

went to the walt disney studios in burbank and ripley’s believe it or not on hollywood blvd, which my parents had gotten me tickets for for my birthday. i love doing stuff like that, even if it’s touristy.

benny and i went to shaqtoberfest. it was actually a lot of fun LMAO

funeral arrangements were sort of up in the air for a while. it ended up happening in october, although her death was in late august. i went back to charleston for it. my father’s resilience floors me. i look up to him so much. my mother and i went to my parents’ safety deposit box to pick out jewelry to wear to the funeral. i wore my grandmother’s brooch and ring. it was a sad occasion, but it was nice to be reunited with some family i hadn’t seen since before covid. i miss my family and especially my parents. i realized i would like to make an effort to visit them more frequently. i love spending time with them as adults.

after my return, benny and i did some halloweeny stuff. i don’t like the holiday that much, but i love going to all the neighborhood festivals and block parties and events.

finally used my flight credit from when rozi, britt, and i were supposed to visit blake in tennessee back in 2020. i went to austin, my first time in texas. mindy’s parents live outside of austin, and she actually flew there a day after me--she had to pick up her mom’s wedding dress, and it was great timing. i stayed in an airbnb for a night and explored the city (and the college campus--i got free tacos and really missed the campus experience) on my own, and then met up with her and her family the next day. they graciously let me stay there for a few days. her family is so relaxed, and i appreciated how easy it was to be with them. i would like to return to austin by myself or with benny sometime, though.

took a ‘cast preview’ holiday tour of disneyland. we got soaked in the rain, but still had so much fun. i love the holiday season, and maybe one day i’ll stop letting myself be so consumed by work around that time and actually be able to enjoy everything.

learned the monorail, something i had been trying to do for close to a year.

surprised benny with a trip up to the bay. i don’t know why--i had just been wanting to take a weekend trip since like april to visit pinnacles national park. i told him to make sure to request the days off, and when the time came, we left right after work. we drove up the 5 and finally, around 9:30 or 10pm, we pulled into the campground. he’d had a hunch this was what i was surprising him with. we slept in the car and freezed our asses off. we did a hike (featuring a couple caves!) the next day and went to an airbnb in san jose. we explored muir woods (i finally saw a banana slug!), went over the golden gate, of course, and tried to get dinner in the city--but i couldn’t find parking and the hills of sf overwhelmed me while driving, so we ended up just leaving. but we did go to the winchester mystery house and santa cruz, where we saw bunches of seals (sea lions? i don’t know). on the way home, we took highway 1 and passed monterey, big sur, and miles of coastal beauty.

did another every-once-in-a-while vegas weekend trip to see the holiday decorations at the bellagio and visit his friend. i decided i don’t like his friend’s roommate lmao, but we still had a good time. we even got a hike in with some snow.

saw beautiful holiday lights with benny’s mom and sister. every once in a while, i can dig some family time.

stayed busy with work. between disney and target during the holiday season, i go weeks without a day off. but it’s all right. i do it to myself. and i love my coworkers.

the leads and trainers got a blanket from our management team, which was actually so fucking nice

i interviewed to be a lead--my manager asked me if i had been talking to the cores and then why i wanted to be a lead. then he stopped the interview and told me he’d already previously decided on me, that this ‘interview’ was essentially a formality. i was surprised and, i have to admit, felt really proud. he said to keep it a secret, though, so i did, only telling benny and my favorite lead.

in the light rain on new year’s eve, benny and i went to the ronald reagan presidential library. what a cool place--yeah, reagan sucks, but it’s still a beautiful museum. and his entire air force one is in there--what an experience to get to walk through it. i love learning about all that stuff. in the evening, benny had a small party--it was still raining, so there wasn’t much of a turnout. it wasn’t the best night, especially since it’s my favorite holiday. but there’s always the next one.

had some trips to knotts. for a while, i didn’t think i would want to renew my annual pass, but it’s just so cheap that it’s worth it even if you only go a dozen times a year.

continued to work at target every now and again. they do be giving us free food, i’ll give em that. maybe i’ll quit before the end of 2023. we’ll see.

drove so much. i love my prius and am so grateful for its reliability. even though traffic sucks, it’s nice to get to spend that time with myself. i still take the bus sometimes, though.

started actively saving money. i still owe student loans, but it seems to be forever on pause, so i just pay a bit here and there. i opened a high-yield savings account and really try to contribute to it often.

was sort of sad a lot of the time. it’s just hard to be happy with your life when you’re in an hourly position and so many of your peers have ‘career’ jobs and seem so well-established--but i know that everyone has different paths and that i will be okay. but everyone gets in their own head. i also have to admit that i really hate that benny still lives with his family and had such a different upbringing than me. i hate admitting it, but it’s the truth. it sometimes makes it so hard to see a future together where we are established (by that, i mean with steady jobs and a place to ourselves), when we just don’t have good foundations to build on yet, despite being in our mid-20s. it challenges me and my thinking, but i’m also grateful for it. i don’t want to always be comfortable in life--but goddamn is it difficult sometimes. i feel that the relationship is so juvenile in terms of our stage in life. we will get there, though. and benny is miles ahead of me in so many facets of emotional intelligence.

loved lana del rey, i have to admit

song of the year: “head full of doubt/road full of promise,” the avett brothers. it makes my heart heavy with a load of both fear and perseverance--‘decide what to be and go be it’ is such a scary, yet beautiful phrase. the entire song takes me aback with how much i can relate it to my own struggles (or whatever).

2022 really saw the country come out of the pandemic, if you can even separate the times in that way. i find myself getting more removed from current events, and i hate myself for it. i don’t feel as aware as i used to be during college. i just go through the days at work, try to stay healthy, and spend time with friends and benny. i miss how i used to keep up with the world. maybe someday, i’ll start again. for now, i just try to be all right with my own life. i suppose you have to be okay with yourself, primarily, right? after all, it’s your own thoughts and body that you are with the most. it may be selfish, but it’s unavoidable. i would like to be happy with my own life, and i think i will eventually. i’m getting there. and the days continue to pass lazily, yet quickly. “i know pain is as natural as the rain; i just thought it didn’t rain in california.”

#about me #me #a year in review #2022

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