#he took an early bus to the bay

[teddybearsims]

a day at the bay ⋆⁺𖤓₊⋆ + an excerpt from Jude's journal.

Transcript of Jude’s Journal: Song lyrics: (from the song Wonderful Life by Smith & Burrows, but for story reasons Jude is writing these lyrics down as his own)

Here I go out to sea again The sunshine fills my hair And dreams hang in the air Gulls in the sky and in my blue eyes You know it feels unfair There’s magic everywhere

Jude’s notes:

Don’t Forget! - new headphones (his are starting to fry out) - crash cymbal (his recently cracked from overuse) - cat (he wants to adopt)- text stevie (this one is messily crossed out, with a doodle of an angry pac-man eating it away) 

More badly drawn doodles: A cat, birds, a swirl, and a curly arrow.  Other imagery: Dried flowers, a cutout image of a butterfly taped down. A polaroid photo of the moon reflected in the water, with the location 'Brindleton Bay' scribbled on it. 

♡♡♡

[millersamour]

different devils (series prologue) - joel miller x f!reader

“We’re all in the same game; just different levels. Dealing with the same hell; just different devils.”

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader

Series Summary: You're one of Jackson's longest, and most reclusive inhabitants. You're Tommy's patrol partner. You raised an adopted son. Now spending every day doing what you can to keep the devil at bay. Until Joel Miller shows up, with a fourteen year old, and the same kind of demons.

(collage made on pinterest)

Series Warnings: set during outbreak, violence, descriptions of body mutilation, use of weapons, reader is 21 in prologue but 34 in main story, age gap (joel is 56), eventual smut (will tag accordingly), darkish! joel, reader is also a violent survivalist, reader has a similar joel/ellie dynamic with an oc!, raider/cult subplot, typical disturbing stuff in media about zombies/apocalypse situations

Prologue Summary: After nine years of surviving the apocalypse you meet some people who offer you the chance to start over.

A/N: straight up no joel in this :/ sorry lol, this is just character plot because i love angst and slow burn!!!! we support traumatized morally grey fmcs in this house <3

-

Prologue

March 2011 

You had been tracking a doe for about an hour when you heard the sounds. Deep gurgling and clicking echoing from somewhere you couldn’t see. 

Fuck. 

The deer seemed like a lost cause if there were any more than a single one of those unforgiving creatures lurking nearby. 

With one last glance to the deer, its light brown fur shining in the morning sun, you tucked the bow underneath the thick leather strap of the quiver at your back and made quick work of climbing a thick tree.

You watched the creature below from about twenty feet in the air. The deformed body weaving between the trees, dragging its feet through the wet vegetation. Growths emerging from its skull covered any trace of its former humanity. Bright fungi absorbing the very idea that this thing had ever bore resemblance to a person. The bow in your grasp followed its movements as it veered left, and thankfully, away from your campsite. 

Not wasting any arrows today.

With a sigh of relief, which sounded more like a huff of annoyance, you surveyed the area a final time before deciding to make your way back to Leon. You dismounted the tree, landing the last few feet with a thud and took off back into the thicket. 

Rope and sticks had been used to hold up what had once been a tarp, now just a small sheet of plastic, to create a makeshift tent. It was completely useless against the cold but it had kept you dry from the torrential downpour that had plagued your travel the last few days. The first signs of spring were always welcome after months of cold and snow, but you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt you felt after surviving another winter. 

Leon was awake now, nursing a small fire. He grinned as he watched your form emerge from the treeline. The early morning gave you a respite, where it could just be you and Leon. Not what you had become part of. 

“Anything good?” He asked, eyes trailing from your face to glance at your empty hands. 

“No” You shook your head. “Damn clicker came outta nowhere and spooked the deer I spent an hour tracking” You huffed, slumping beside him. 

Grimacing, he handed you a thermos and you sipped. Warm water flooded your mouth and sternum as it landed in your empty stomach. You hummed, savouring the temporary warmth and handed it back to him. He pulled a small bunch of cloth from his backpack and you grimaced at the only remnants of food you had left.

It had been almost six months since you and Leon had been on your own and almost a full two years since you’d left the QZ.

-

You had only been twelve on outbreak day. But you could recall those memories like it had been yesterday. Stepping off the school bus, doing homework, and eating dinner with your parents, before heading off to bed. You remembered the soft pink of your bedroom. The quilt at the foot of your bed. The toy rabbit you’d slept with since you were born. 

But the sounds of alarms and glass shattering and screams had woken you. 1:02 AM flashing bright green on your alarm clock. You had crept downstairs. The noises outside drowned out by the fear of what would be waiting for you. 

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, you saw the pool of blood first. Crimson leaking into the cracks of blue kitchen tiles, staining the grout. You had hesitated before entering, not knowing what you would see once you turned the corner and passed the door frame. 

Her hair was splayed on the floor like a halo. Strands matted with blood. Her body, stiff in death, looked like she had been knocked back, like someone had shoved her. Peeking around the corner, you saw a huddled form leaning against the fridge; its white exterior marked with streaks of red, fingerprints smeared across family photos and a drawing you had made for your father’s birthday.

Quietly you had called out.

 “Dad?”

The hunched form had looked up at the sound, neck craning in an unnatural way. Strained breathing, like someone was trying to speak with lungs full of water, and growling sounds punched passed his lips. Sounds you had only ever heard in nature documentaries, sounds of pained and hungry animals who relied on teeth and claws and blood to survive.

Suddenly everything was happening to someone else. Like you were watching your life unravel from someone else’s eyes. 

It wasn’t you when your dad slowly rose to his full height, his hands and mouth covered in your mother’s blood. It wasn’t you when he lunged forward, hands reaching for your small form. It wasn’t you who ran away, taking the stairs two at a time while he slipped in what was left of your mother; still warm. It wasn’t you who had thrown open your parent’s bedroom door, slamming it behind you. Who had searched in the dark, for salvation, for safety, for something that could keep the monster at bay. 

The banging on the door was only getting louder, and you had hoped this was all some kind of nightmare. The kind where you woke up crying and your mother would be there to stroke your hair and sing until you drifted back into a peaceful slumber. 

But it was real and you had found the bat that your dad had kept stuffed in the closet.

Your small fingers clenched around the handle and you struggled to keep yourself upright. The image of your mother, her soft skin and dimpled smile flashed against the images of her broken body, of her abdomen peeled open. You could still hear the strangled breathing of the creature outside the door. 

No longer your father, only wearing his face. 

You pushed your back against the wall, feeling the reverberations through the wall as he slammed his body against wood. It was cracking and wouldn’t hold for long. 

It wasn’t you who had watched the door splinter. Who watched him shove his mangled form through. Left shoulder broken. Arm dangling loosely at his side. It wasn’t you who struggled to slow your breathing as his unseeing eyes stared into the darkness, streetlights peeking through the blinds to illuminate his grisly appearance. But it had been you. It had been you who had clenched her jaw, teeth grinding against teeth. Tightening your grip and stepping behind him as he wandered into the center of the room. It was you who heard the floorboard creak and had raised the bat before he even turned around. It was you who had swung and swung and swung. Until what had been your father no longer was. 

Just a bloodied heap on the ground. 

You had been found a few days later, hiding in your closet. Bat sticky with dried blood, still clenched in your hands. They had taken you, kicking and screaming, to what would become the Phoenix QZ, and your home for the next eight years. 

-

Movement startled you from the memories you pondered often, trying to conjure images of birthday parties and the photographs that lined your childhood home. But, all you were left with was the weight of two corpses and the shame of survival.

 Andy came through the tree line. His blonde hair stuck to his forehead and his smile bordered on feral. You had to stand to see what he was holding in his hand. 

Rabbits. 

“Little early for your ass to be up, isn’t it?” You chuckled, walking over to examine his prize.

“Early bird gets the worm” He grinned, holding the rabbits higher up. “Just taking a page from your book” 

He wasn’t wrong. In the last six months, you had been almost solely providing food for the four of you. Feeding Leon had been no problem, it was something you’d been doing for the last five years. But, Andy and his brother, Warren, hadn’t been pulling their weight. And you often had to remind them that they begged for your help and you had offered it to them, if they helped keep Leon alive. 

The commotion must have alerted Warren, because the older brother emerged from his own makeshift shelter. 

It had been a while since you’d caught anything substantial. Relying mostly on birds, fish, and other small wildlife to feed yourselves. But with spring slowly making its appearance, you knew there would be animals everywhere in the coming weeks. 

But rabbits, especially three of them, were enough to excite the four of you. Grinning at each other for the first time in weeks. 

Andy and Warren were whopping, hollering expletives in excitement. You moved to grab Andy’s arm, needing to shut them both up. But movement to your left had you throwing yourself out of the way.

The clicker. 

Fuck. 

You should’ve killed that stupid fucking thing when you had the chance. It was on Andy before you even had the opportunity to scream. It grabbed at his chest, seeking grip wherever it could find, and sank its teeth into the skin of his throat. They fell forwards together, limbs tangling together, wrestling for purchase. 

Warren came from behind, the branch in his hands colliding with the side of the monster’s head, sending it flying off of Andy. He slammed the wood into its skull, watching as it twitched and went limp against the wet ground. 

Andy lay on the ground, clutching his chest and reaching towards his neck. His eyes locked with yours. Panic stricken, wild. You knew that he was dead. They all were. As soon as one of those things got a decent grip, it was over. But that didn’t mean it was okay. It had been almost nine years, and everyone still fought like hell against the inevitable. 

Warren was crouched beside his brother, trying to stop the bleeding. He pulled off his own shirt and you winced, seeing the scars that littered his back. The same ones on both Leon and yourself.

With a hand on your bow, you pulled an arrow from your back and gently nudged Warren’s foot with your own before taking a step back.

“Warren” You warned, your voice low.

He jolted, eyes leaving his brother to meet yours, glancing between your face and the weapon in your hands. His hands pushing wet, bloody fabric into his brother’s wounds.

“I..I can’t… what?” 

“We have to do it and leave” You glanced over your shoulder at Leon, who had stepped further back, watching with a frantic gaze. “We can’t stay here. Warren, none of this is fucking easy, but Andy’s gone.” 

The older man, only twenty-three himself, looked back towards his brother. Andy’s breathing was shallow, ragged. He had already lost so much blood.

It never took long. 

Warren’s body shook as he sobbed, as he understood what you meant. You had to put Andy down, and you had to do it quickly. But his shoulders slumped and he shook his head. 

“Warren..” You warned again. “You need to step away from him..”

He huffed, breathy and wet, and crawled away from the fading remnant of his younger brother. You didn’t have to look to know that Leon was gone, probably behind a tree, hands over his ears. It was the plan. When shit hits the fan, get low and stay low. Until you call it clear.

You sighed, stringing the bow. You aimed, closed your eyes, released a quiet breath and let go. 

Andy lay limp on the ground and you hoped that wherever he ended up, it was better than this. 

Shaking your head, you whistled your signal to Leon and set your bow against a stump. The teenager came peeking out and your heart clenched at the tear tracks carving through the dirt on his face. 

“Look out!” He screamed suddenly, eyes flicking behind you. 

Before you could even register, the side of your body made contact with the ground. Looking up you saw Warren, huffing, eyes red rimmed. He held the branch again. You threw up your arms, ready to deflect the fatal blow, but it never came. 

The deep cut of a shotgun rang out through the air. And you caught the way Warren’s eyes widened and then rolled to the back of his head before he slumped to the ground beside you. Scrambling, you sprang to your feet and launched yourself towards Leon.

“Easy there little lady” an unknown voice spoke up, shotgun in hand. “I’m not gonna hurt’cha, I just need you to put your hands up”

The sound stopped you in your tracks. You could see Leon with his arms already in the air. 

Another rule: do everything you can to not get shot. Smart kid. 

You twirled back towards the man with a smirk. 

“You just killed my buddy there, not sure if I should trust you” 

The man with the gun tilted his head slightly, confused, but kept his gun trained on your form. He was older, probably mid fifties, with dark skin and dark hair that was peppered with greys.

“He was going to kill you” It came out unsure. He was right, but why?

“Occupational hazard?” You quipped back. 

He sighed and looked over his shoulder. Fuck. You were hoping you could distract him long enough to either get the gun, or at least to get Leon out of here. But if anyone else showed up, you were screwed.

“Maria!” He called out. “Over here!”

A woman came from behind him, presumably Maria. Her eyes widened at the sight. The clicker, Andy and Warren, Leon and yourself. You were almost twenty-one, but the hunger made you look closer to Leon’s age, only fourteen himself. 

Maria tapped the man on the shoulder and jerked her head, needing to speak to him. He nodded and refocused his gaze on you. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” He grunted. 

You nodded, looking back at Leon and offering a small smile. They didn’t seem like raiders, or slavers. They looked clean and well fed. They didn’t look FEDRA either, but you weren’t about to test the limits of their mercy. Either way, they would either kill you or they wouldn’t. For Leon’s sake, you hoped whatever happened, if it came to it, it would be quick. 

They spoke a few feet away, glancing back towards the two of you every couple seconds. The man struggled to force his gaze away, turning back to the woman and grimacing at the words coming out of her mouth.

“Maria-” He went to grab her arm but she slinked away and came to stand before you. 

She offered her hand. You hesitantly accepted, coating her fingers in dirt and blood. She barely spared it a glance before rubbing it into the denim of her thigh. 

She smiled gently. “I’m Maria, that’s Elton” She said, motioning to the larger man behind her. She seemed tough. You felt more comfortable under her gaze, more than anyone who had looked at you in the last two years. 

You offered your name and turned towards the younger boy. “That’s Leon” You motioned for him to come over.

He took a few hesitant steps before lacing his fingers through yours and reaching his other hand towards Maria. She took his hand, shaking it. Anyone else could have missed it, but a flicker of something, maybe longing, passed over her face when she locked eyes with Leon. 

“Are you related?” Came from Elton. 

Leon’s hair was lighter than yours and his features were still coated in a thin layer of baby fat. So, most people believed that he was your brother, half at least, and you never corrected them. But, something in Maria’s eyes and the way she watched you, made you want to be honest. You shook your head.

“Known him since he was eight, been taking care of him ever since” You didn’t often talk about Leon’s biological family. They were FEDRA officials, but when rations started dwindling a few years after the outbreak, they didn’t hesitate to drop the youngest of their children off on the steps of the QZ’s orphanage. Where you had been for the last three years. 

“How old are you?” Maria asked, glancing between the two of you. 

“I’m fourteen” Leon blurted, looking up at you with wide eyes. You squeezed his hand twice. A signal you had first used in the orphanage, after you’d been beaten for stealing or for lying. Leon would sit beside you and read, occasionally squeezing your hand. You’d squeeze back twice if you wanted him to keep reading, three times if something was wrong.

“I’m twenty-one” You speak, not meeting Maria’s eyes. 

“What are you doing out here?” Elton’s voice came over Maria’s shoulders again, kinder. You realized that the two of them had to be related. Father and daughter maybe?

“It’s a really long story” You try, unsure of how to explain the last decade of your lives.

“Give us the short version” Maria tries, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“We..um..we escaped raiders before the winter…” You fumble. Yes you had been with raiders, not exactly prisoners, but these two didn’t need to know that. Not yet. Maria’s eyes softened and she looked back at Elton, who’s face betrayed him at that moment. You could tell he was confused. Not many people survived the winter the way you had done. 

“You’ve been living out here?” He asked, glancing between the makeshift shelters and your bow, the only real weapon you had. 

You nodded. “Here and there, I tried not to stay in one place too long…” 

They both nodded, movement was essential. Unless you had the means to defend yourself and your camp, it was better to stay out of the way. You’d learned that when the Phoenix QZ tore itself down. 

“Where are you from?” The question came from Leon. You know that he noticed their clothing, their guns, the way they seemed sated and well-fed. Leon always noticed details, things that a lot of other kids deemed unnecessary. 

“We come from a community”

“A QZ?”

Elton laughed at that. “Jackson’s not like a QZ. Sure we got walls and jobs, but ain’t nothin like one of those prisons” 

“Jackson?” It was your turn to ask a question.

Maria nodded. “We’re a community that helps each other out and keeps each other alive. As long as you earn your keep and stay out of trouble. You could come back with us.”

“And we should trust you? Why?” You had reason to be defensive, to be unsure of what these strangers were promising. 

“You’ll just have to find out.” Maria smiled, looking back towards Elton.

For the first time in a while, you felt something like hope. That you had survived the last year for a reason. That Leon could finally have a real home.

“Take us there” 

You felt Leon’s grip tighten. You squeezed back twice.

-

Thanks for reading!! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed <3

[watcheraurora]

Siren Song

Had a dream the other night that I got turned into a mermaid. And as a gal who's loved merfolk since I was a kid, I couldn't resist 4.3k words

—

Grian grinned to himself. From his fishing dock, he could hear Gem on her little fishing boat belting sea shanties. She sounded like she was having fun, swinging around her rigging with a sword on her belt. She wasn't the only one who lived on their boat, but she was the only one who took such audible joy in it.

Grian let his feet dangle in the water, his overalls rolled up past his knees, and watched the sea as his lure bobbed. Early morning was one of his favorite times to fish. The quiet—apart from Gem's shanties—the sunrise on the clouds, the watery color of the sky. The calmness of the ocean. It was peaceful, like this. There was nothing else he needed to do but sit and fish. This early in the season, the ocean water was frigid against his bare skin. He didn't care.

"Morning Grian!" Gem called as she spun around a line of the rigging as though it was the hand of a dance partner. She waved from her boat's deck anchored a little farther out in the bay, not attached to a dock or wharf.

"Morning Gem!" Grian replied, raising a hand in response.

Gem beamed and went back to whatever it was she was up to. Grian suspected she was trying to do chores and just decided to have fun instead. She was anchored far enough out that they couldn't easily talk. They had to shout. He tried not to shout this early though. It scared the fish.

The water, near the hull of Gem's ship, moved strangely. A movement Grian was familiar with. Something large not quite breaking the surface tension, sliding just underneath. Large and shimmery.

Grian perked up. That was either the largest cod he'd ever seen—or something else was near.

He pulled his feet out of the water and stood up. Snatching his binoculars from his pack of stuff, he held them up and peered toward where the shape moved.

The murk of the early-morning ocean prevented him from seeing what was under the surface.

"Shoot," he muttered. "What was that? Big fish don't come this shallow often..." He moved the binoculars up and down, looking through them and sweeping his gaze in the same area without the magnification. "Geeem?" he called, as loud as he dared to not scare the fish. "Is your sonar on?"

Gem stopped where she was dramatically stomping on the deck with a mop in hand while chanting her shanty. "No. I'm cleaning," she called back.

"Mind turning it on? There's something big here!"

"Grian, you don't have the equipment for deep sea fishing."

"Humor me," Grian said.

Gem made a face that was unimpressed—even from Grian's distance. "Fiiine," she said, vanishing into the cabin of her boat.

—

Pearl grabbed Scar's wrist as a noise traveled through the water. A sonar that was revving up, but not yet active.

"Hold on," she said. Scar twisted his arm and grabbed her arm in return. They snagged each other's other arms. Pearl built up some momentum with her tail and they shot toward deeper water. Scar's torn caudal fin trailed limply behind him as Pearl sped them both away. The pearlescent white tail for which she got her name glimmered in the weak, pale sunlight that hadn't yet broken over the horizon.

Pearl swam them both for several long moments—until they were most likely out of range of the sonar. Then slowed down. Scar's green eyes were wide. The scar over the bridge of his nose shimmered. "Did we just get caught?"

"Maybe," Pearl said, looking over her shoulder. Her long hair drifted in a cloud around her head. She brushed it aside to look behind her. "I don't think the sonar got turned on quick enough. But I can't say for sure."

Scar looked down at his tail. The base of his caudal fin was bent awkwardly and the fin itself was torn in such a way to render it useless. He couldn't swim. "I'm sorry, Pearl. I didn't mean—"

"Don't apologize, Scar. It's not your fault."

"Bu-bu-bu-bu-but..." Scar put on his pathetic voice that was overdramatic for the sake of comedy. "But I'm the one who got too close to the humans."

"Yeah, and got closer in the hopes that they'd help fix you. We know that human of Jimmy's knows about us and would help. But everyone else? That man on the dock could have very well hooked your tail if you got any closer. We don't know who we can trust."

"How... how do we get Jimmy's human to help fix my tail? We just don't have the materials to splint it underwater."

Pearl made a face. "Well, it was pretty stupid of you to come this close to shore on your own when you can barely swim. You're lucky I got here when I did to get you out before they thought a shark got close to shore."

Scar pouted, sticking his lower lip out.

"Look. I know your tail needs fixing. And Jimmy and Lizzie's humans will help. But we need Jimmy or Lizzie to contact them. How those two both managed to snag humans is beyond me."

"Must be ocean royalty twin charm or something," Scar said sarcastically.

Pearl smirked and bounced her eyebrows. "Must be. C'mon. Let's go ask Jimmy and Lizzie if one of them can ask their human for help."

Scar thought for a moment, then nodded.

—

Grian stood on the end of his dock at the end of the day. The sun had set behind him and the last few rays were starting to filter out.

Soft footsteps approached down the dock. "Whatcha doin'?" Gem asked. Her rowboat bobbed in the water just in front of them both. She had on her light, soft boat shoes.

"Looking to see if that fish came back with the sunset," Grian said, binoculars in hand.

Gem yawned and stretched. "Okay," she said through her yawn. "I'm heading back to the boat. Holler if you need anything."

"Yeah, yeah. Cheers," Grian said.

She hopped nimbly down into her rowboat, untied it, and started to row back to her boat. Grian watched her go, making sure she was safe. They'd both moved to this small fishing town within a year of one another. Gem's grandparents had given her their fishing boat when they passed away and she'd chosen to live on it, and Grian... well. He was running. Always running. A restless soul with people in his past that he needed to be far away from for his own sanity.

He told the good people in his past that he'd found the sea. But it was more like the sea found him. Called him. Beckoned. So here he stayed. In a small flat over a shop—a workshop, to be specific. Three mechanics ran it. And he fished before and after work.

His eyes tracked Gem to where she tied her rowboat to the ladder on the hull of her boat and climbed the rest of the way up before she disappeared inside. Grian was older than Gem by only a few years, and felt a brotherly protectiveness of her. The two who came to the small, sleepy town from the outside.

There was no sign of that large fish he'd seen earlier. The last rays of sunlight were snuffed out by the dark night sky. The orangey glow of streetlamps buzzed to life.

Grian sighed with disappointment. Maybe tomorrow morning...

He turned and moved to stomp back up the dock to go back to his flat—

Before freezing.

A song floated across the surface of the water. The voice a warm baritone. Resonant enough that Grian felt his bones vibrate with the timbre of it, despite the obvious distance it was traveling. He found himself unable to move. Transfixed by the music. Entranced.

Slowly, he pivoted to face the sea again. The rocks that made up the outside barrier that sheltered the marina were dark. Except one spot that had a silvery glow on the far side. Not from moonlight.

Curiosity broke whatever spell he was under. He rushed to make his way around the perimeter of the marina. Toward the glow being cast on the rocks. Stumbling over rough terrain in the darkness.

—

A few tail-lengths down the rocky shore, Tango was crouched, elbows resting on his knees, as he smiled down at Jimmy. Who was on his stomach with his sky-blue tail bent up into the air. Caudal fin drifting up and down. He kept himself upright with his elbows on the ground, resting his chin on his hands as he talked to Tango.

A stone's throw away from those two, Lizzie and Joel were much closer. Joel sitting on the ground with Lizzie fully in his lap, her purplish-blue tail wrapped around him and his fingers lazily playing with her long pink hair.

Pearl and Scar rested as far away as possible. Pearl looked ready to drag him back into the sea at a moment's notice. Jittery and wound up. Scar, for his part, was trying to look relaxed. He was singing to keep himself calm. Tango's good friend and coworker, Etho, was helping splint Scar's tail and stitch his caudal fin back together. He had an intense sort of look to him, but his callused hands were remarkably gentle. Pearl was using what little magic she had to cast enough light for Etho to see and work by. Silvery moonlight from her palm dancing over the rocks where it reflected off the waves.

"You should probably go help Etho," Jimmy remarked to Tango.

"Probably," Tango agreed with a small nod and an unfocused look in his eyes. He didn't move. Didn't stand. Just stayed where he was crouched.

"Thank you for this, by the way," Jimmy said. "I know you would have done it yourself for him but—"

"It's fine. My hands are steady but Etho's are better," Tango remarked. "And he actually knows how to stitch up a wound and make a flexible splint. Or he's creative enough to figure it out. I'm not that creative."

"Sure you are!" Jimmy protested quietly. "You're very creative!"

"I mean, yeah, but not like this. I can make up a game for someone to play, but I can't invent a splint for a merperson's sprained tail. Those are different kinds of creativity and inventiveness." His eyes quickly flicked to the way Jimmy's scales glinted in Pearl's moonlight where scale met skin below his navel and back to Jimmy's eyes. "You're welcome, by the way. It's no problem. Happy to help where we can. For you or people you're close to." Impulsively, he reached out and tugged on the point of Jimmy's caudal fin, causing him to yelp—and dissolve into giggles.

"That tickles!" he protested, his fin sliding out of Tango's grip easily as it lashed back on instinct, clapping against the waves. Tango chuckled. He liked the way Jimmy screwed his eyes shut when he laughed. He liked Jimmy's broad smile. He liked Jimmy's easy personality and warm hazel-brown eyes. He wasn't sure yet what they were—and he hadn't talked to Jimmy about it either—but he wasn't worried. They shared space and conversation easily. He didn't care what they were.

Joel and Lizzie, for their part, didn't even look over at the splash of Jimmy's caudal fin striking the water.

Etho, Scar, and Pearl did. Only briefly.

Had they looked over for a little longer, they might have noticed a dark shadow moving closer, recklessly trampling over loose rocks. But they didn't.

—

Grian peered over the ridge of the rocks. And went stock still.

Etho, Tango, and Joel he recognized. Etho and Tango ran the shop below him with Impulse. Joel ran the small tree nursery up the road and taught painting in the evenings occasionally.

It was the other figures that made Grian freeze where he stood.

The woman in Joel's lap had long pink hair and a fish tail. The blond, athletically-built man staring at Tango like a golden retriever also had a tail. The two by Etho had fish tails as well. The male one, apparently, the source of the song that had drawn Grian around the marina. The female seemed to be the source of the light on the rocks. Etho had flexible metal instruments and some sort of straps that he was using to make some sort of brace at the end of the male's long, green tail flecked with yellows and oranges. There was a long row of stitches down the male's fin.

Grian stared, wide-eyed, his jaw slack. For a long time.

Merpeople?!

Gem was going to freak out, he decided.

A harsh wind blew off the sea. Grian took a step back to maintain his balance.

His heel caught on a loose stone. He careened, his arms pinwheeling.

Splash!

—

Seven heads snapped in the direction of the sound immediately. Pearl curled closer to Scar and bared her teeth in threat. Etho half-stood from his sitting position, looking around. Scar had grabbed Pearl's wrist and just held her there. He'd stopped singing.

Lizzie disappeared off Joel's lap and vanished into the water without so much as a sound.

Jimmy twisted and followed his twin sister into the surf. But instead of lurking in the murky darkness of the ocean at night, he swam around the ridge of the rocks to the back side, where the sound had come from. Tango bolted to his feet, standing upright.

Jimmy saw the human man—young, smaller than Tango somehow (Jimmy was unaware that adult human males could be so small)—appeared to be shocked by the cold of the surf. After a moment, the human began to thrash, fighting to swim back to the surface, obviously struggling with his shoes—as Tango had called them—still on his feet.

Jimmy grabbed the human under his arms and hauled him upwards, breaking the surface and dragging the human onto the rocky shore.

The human coughed as Tango scrambled over the loose, uneven ground to get over to them.

"Holy smokes," Tango said, sliding down the ridge. "Are you okay?" His gaze flicked between Jimmy and the human. Who was facedown but keeping himself up on his elbows as he coughed.

The unknown human coughed again and looked up. His hair was wavy and light brown. His eyebrows scrunched. "Tango?"

Tango gasped and took a step back, nearly losing his balance himself. "Grian?! What are you doing here?"

"You two know each other?" Jimmy asked softly.

"He lives in the apartment above me and Etho's workshop," Tango explained. "He's a friend." Tango dropped to his knees in front of this Grian. "Hey. You okay, G?"

Grian coughed more seawater out of his lungs, but managed a nod. "Fine. Lost my footing." He cleared his throat—hard. "So. Who's going to explain to me what's going on?" He pushed himself to his feet. Drenched and shivering. Tango slid out of his thick bomber jacket and held it out. Grian accepted it and slung it on, shivering. "Tango—"

"Grian, we can explain—" Joel said, scrambling over the top of the ridge.

"I really hope you can," Grian retorted. "Because you were cuddling a mermaid."

Jimmy bristled a little, glowering at the stranger. "Don't talk about my sister like that," he growled.

Grian looked down at where Jimmy was still propped up on the shore. "Uh... sorry?"

"Jimmy," Tango said softly. Almost a warning.

Lizzie's head slid out of the surface, watching with wide eyes.

"Okay... so..." Tango began. "Merfolk exist?"

"Oh, no, really?!" Grian retorted sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed!"

"Listen, Grian. You can't tell anyone," Joel put in. "It's not our secret to share."

"Who would believe me even if I wanted to?" Grian shot back.

"Fair enough," Tango muttered, smirking down at Jimmy, who had not yet relaxed.

"Scar—Scar hold still!" Etho's quiet voice ordered from the other side of the ridge.

"But I wanna seeeeee!" Scar's voice put in.

"Scar," Pearl warned.

Grian peered between Tango and Joel's heads. "That's the voice I heard singing," he said, a touch of wistfulness laced through his voice.

"Oh shrimp," Pearl exclaimed. "Really, Scar? You had to use your siren magic?"

"I didn't mean to!" Scar protested. "I was just trying to distract myself! It's not my fault I'm this handsome and alluring."

The sound of damp skin striking damp skin and Scar yelping in surprise meant Pearl had probably whacked him in the arm. "Not the time to sound arrogant, mate!" she snapped.

Grian slid between Tango and Joel and approached the ridge to peer over it.

Scar shrunk back against Pearl's protective hug as the human got closer. Pearl bared her teeth. The soft moonlight coming from her hand turning from a small orb of light into a sharp-edged dagger. Grian didn't get any closer when he saw it morph.

Etho patted Scar's tail where a human's knee would be. "Go ahead and give that a try. Let me know if it's flexible enough to swim."

Scar looked between Etho, Grian, Tango, and Pearl. Pearl took his hand. The two scooted back into the water and disappeared under the surf.

"Scar!" Pearl said when they were safely deep enough that the others wouldn't hear them. "You can't go using siren magic when we're this close to a human town! You know your songs can be heard farther away than someone else's singing at the same volume. You have to be more careful!"

"I know, I know," Scar replied, looking defeated. "I didn't think anyone would hear."

Pearl sighed. "It's fine. It was just one. You will have to explain to Jimmy and Lizzie's mum what happened, but at least he's friends with the humans who already know." Pearl sunk lower and inspected the brace Etho made. "How's the splint working?"

Scar tested it out, swimming slowly.

—

"Okay," Grian said once the green-tailed male and the white-tailed female had vanished underwater. "So merfolk exist and apparently no one has figured that out yet?" He gave Etho, Tango, and Joel a look.

"We keep ourselves discreet," the pink-haired mermaid who'd been cuddling with Joel said from where she was a few meters out into the water. "Our cities hide from human technology with magic. And that's all you need to know." She spoke with a weight and gravitas to her voice that showed she was used to being obeyed and listened to.

"A few of us find connection with humans, but not many," the broad-shouldered blond merman who'd been making doe eyes at Tango added. "We're not supposed to, but it happens anyway. And you can't tell anyone."

Grian shook his head. "This is a lot to take in. So, wait. Was it one of you I saw earlier today? Near the hull of my friend's boat. I saw a large fish almost break the surface, but not quite."

The blond merman and his pink-haired sister met one another's eyes. "What color did you see?"

"I can't be sure. The sea was murky. Could have been blue, could have been green?"

The pink-haired mermaid sighed. "Scar's being reckless, Jimmy," she said softly to her brother. "He's getting too close."

"You know him, Lizzie. He's curious," the brother said.

"Look," Grian interrupted. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm just... startled, I guess? I don't know—"

He was cut off by the green-tailed merman who'd disappeared with the white-tailed mermaid bursting out of the water and doing a flip. "Woohoo!" the man cried as he splashed back in before resurfacing and throwing his hair out of his face.

"Scar!" the white-tailed mermaid protested, her head breaking through the surface. "You have to be quiet!"

"But I can swim on my own again, Pearl! It worked!" He beamed at Etho. In the faint light from the town's streetlights, Grian could see a scar across the bridge of the merman's nose. "Thank you, man!"

Etho shrugged. "Just a little creativity. No big deal."

The white-tailed mermaid raised a brow. "Etho, I don't think you understand how dangerous a sprained tail is," she said. "Without your help, he could have been hunted. We really appreciate it." She pulled herself out of the water and back onto shore. Her eyes were noticeably bright blue and suspicious when they turned on Grian. "You're the one who always has the hooks in the water."

"I just like to fish for the cod."

"Well you've nearly torn Scar's tail! You're lucky he got it caught on something else that wasn't your hook because if that injury had been your fault, no one would have ever found you at the bottom of the sea."

"How is that my fault?!" Grian snapped back. Jimmy and Tango glanced at each other before looking back to Grian—who didn't have time to wonder why they looked so surprised that he was arguing. "If he can't stay away from a fish hook, that's on him. He appears to be a full grown adult and you all have human intelligence so that's not on me!"

The white-tailed mermaid growled.

The pink-haired one muttered, "He's got a point."

"Hey!" the green-tailed merman protested. "It had a shiny thing on the end of it! I wanted to see!"

"That's a lure you tadpole!" Jimmy said with a heavy sigh.

"Don't act like you're the one holding the braincell here, Jim," Joel teased. "Between you and Scar it's a wonder neither of you are in a human zoo."

"Oi!" Jimmy protested at the same time Scar said, "Hey!"

Etho chuckled.

Grian threw his hands up into the air. "I give up! Have a good night. I won't tell anyone. Goodbye. I'm going to bed." He spun, his wader boot heel crunching in the rocky beach, and he stormed off back toward the town.

—

The next morning, Scar surfaced just under the wharf, hidden from prying eyes and quiet. The human from the night before—Grian?— was dangling his feet off the end of the next dock over, fishing line cast out. His fishing rod was held loosely in one hand, the other holding a book he was reading.

Scar could hear the human humming the same siren song Scar had been singing last night in broken pieces.

Smirking, Scar dipped back under the water and pushed himself deep before shoving off the wharf's supporting poles to cross the gap to the human. He looked up at where Grian's bare toes drifted back and forth, kicking idly, and smirked.

Using his arms to swim upward to keep his tail as still as possible while it healed—Etho's brace was great but if he didn't have to use his tail, he didn't want to—Scar got close to the surface.

He snickered to himself and tugged on Grian's toe.

Grian screeched like a startled bird and tore his feet out of the water, scrambling back on the dock.

Scar slid his head out of the water, an easy laugh leaving his throat. "Well, hello there!" he greeted brightly.

"What are you doing?!" Grian hissed. "What was that?!"

"Can't a merman just say hello to a new friend?" Scar asked, pouring bravado into his voice with a smirk.

"Not if you're trying not to draw attention! Not like that, at least!" Grian snapped.

Farther out in the marina, on one of the boats anchored away from the docks and wharfs, a voice called out. "Everything okay, Grian?"

Scar immediately ducked under the dock Grian was on, hiding among the support structures.

"Everything's fine, Gem!" Grian shouted back. "Bit of kelp just brushed my foot."

From the boat, a feminine laugh rang across the water. Scar giggled too, quietly. "Alrighty! Be safe!" Gem called.

After a moment, Grian dropped to his knees at the edge of the dock. "Still here?" he whispered loudly.

Scar popped back out. "Of course!"

"I never caught your name."

"Most people just call me Scar. My full name is too complicated. You're Grian?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Grian, I can't help but notice that you were singing my song." Another smirk.

Grian's expression soured. "You got it stuck in my head."

Scar chuckled. "Well, I mean, if you want," Scar tried to sound confident, but was definitely blustering a little, "you can always meet me in the same place out on those rocks after dark tonight and I'll teach it to you properly. You can meet my cousin Pearl properly too!"

"Was she the scary one with the white tail?"

"That's my Pearlie!"

"Promise she won't try to drown me?"

"She would never!" Scar said, sounding a lot more promising than he felt.

Grian looked skeptical. "Fine. After dark over on the rocks. See you then."

Scar beamed. "See you then!" He moved to dunk back under, and paused. "Also will you tell Tango that Jimmy has a present for him?"

"Sure. Why not. I'll find a time when Impulse isn't there."

"Well, thanks! You have a good day!" He twisted and dove back underwater, heading for open waters.

—

Grian stared at where Scar's long green tail disappeared.

"This is going to be more trouble than it's worth," he muttered. But curiosity was going to get the better of him, he already knew it.

Drawn in by the siren song.

Frustrated, he shook his head and abandoned his fishing for the morning. That would have to wait.

[pacifierbby]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ONLINE LOVE

* ੈ✩‧₊ Bumble where women come first. where women send the first message. However, Emily didn't know she was talking to anyone other than Lando Norris. Will Bumble be the first dating app she finds love with no other than an F1 racer?

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x reader

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 1,350

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

──────────────୨ৎ 𝑩𝑼𝑴𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 ୨ৎ───────────────

The week has been nothing but stressful back and forth of messages with your boss updating him about the meetings which sometimes he took an hour to reply to even though he promised he be free for these things making everyone at the table annoyed and making you feel embarrassed about the way your boss was acting you couldn't apologies to them enough the meeting took a lot longer because of that. however, you were thankful that today was Saturday and you could be free of stress for the weekend You and Lando texted back and forth him sending you sweet messages making you smile during the stressful week you both planned to go seeing today you were nervous it was your first date after so long after taking a break from relationships.

The sun shining through the big bay windows of your hotel room is the only thing your boss has done right during this week but you are going to put work behind you today and leave the stress for next week however you will have a conversation with your boss when you return. getting up from the comfort of your hotel bed and slipping on your slippers that were placed at the side of your bed looking outside of the window Monaco's city active cars passing by from the streets below going to their next destination.

Lando texting you that he be with you in an hour. giving you plenty of time to get ready for the fun ahead.

straightening the last strand of your hair. Looking at the mirror making sure that you didn't miss anything and that your outfit was okay nothing too casual but something in between for what Lando planned ahead your phone pinging with a message from Lando I'm 5 minutes away. xx quickly typed back okay see you soon ill meet you outside the hotel. xx

Making sure you have everything you need making a small checklist in your head grabbing the key card from its holder looking back at the mirror making sure your outfit is okay sighing here we go.

The seconds were going slower making you a little nervous you knew you were a little early to leave the hotel but you really didn't want him waiting for you looking down at your watch 1 more minute hearing a small beep looking towards the noise seeing a black Lamborghini pulling up slowly the window rolling down "your guide is here madame" laughing opening the passenger door "where we going?" putting your seatbelt on Lando pulling away from your hotel "that my love bug is a secret" blushing at the cute nickname sighing "I hate secrets but because its you I let you off" Lando looking over quickly winking at you.

The conversation bounced between the both of you like you knew each other for years. "well sweet here's our first destination" The road looked memorable "I remember this road from somewhere but cant remember where" Looking around Lando drove slowly around the corners "this is Circuit de Monaco you may see it on TV from F1" now he said it you did remember it from that your little sister addicted to formula one and tells everything about it "oh I remember now! my little sister talks about Formula One all the time she really likes this one guy uh" pointing her finger to her lips "that's it, Lando Norris!" making him laugh "yeah I enjoy it too big fan off that Lando guy would love to meet your sister one day" Making Emily nod looking at Monaco scenery leaving the first destination and onto the next.

──────────────୨ৎ 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ୨ৎ───────────────

Lando didn't want to dare to tell her that he was the Formula One driver that her sister liked he just enjoyed being a normal person for that day he knew that he would have to tell her one day but that's another subject for another day for now he wanted to have fun with her bringing her to all the destinations that she couldn't go to on her last visit. The conversations constantly flowed making it easy for them both Emily talked about her work and how her boss embarrassed her in front of new contractors for the boss making Lando want to tell her to be the CEO assistant for McLaren but he knew he couldn't open up just yet. they just met she could easily be there for his fame if he told her but deep down he knew she wouldn't do that she sounded like a genuine person.

Pulling up to the next destination Fontvieille Port "I've been here before to meet with one of my boss's contractors" Lando parking his car at a parking space "Well my love we are doing something other than meeting contractors we are going on one of them yachts that I booked for us to ride while we're watching the sunset" making Emily smile at Lando "stay their ill open the door for you" jumping out of the car the sunset going down slowly just in time Lando thought opening the door for Emily holding her hand helping her out of the car shutting the door behind her. both of them making their way towards the yacht.

────────────୨ৎ 𝑭𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻 ୨ৎ────────────

Emily was surprised by Landos date planning no boy had done this for her always took her to a restaurant which between me and you she actually hated she preferred having a takeaway at home and watching movies she hated restaurants she avoided them like the plague so the fact that Lando planned this wowed her.

Lando helps her onto the boat The sun slowly sets behind them quickly taking a quick photo for memory Lando tells the driver to set off. walking towards her holding his hand out "Shall we?" Emily instantly took his hand leaving a small spark between them. Lando brings them over to a table and chairs on the top deck, which was nicely set out with a bottle of wine in the middle candles and flowers placed next to it plates and cutlery placed, giving Lando an instant brownie point. Helping her sit down at the table she knew he went through so much for this to be perfect tonight and that warmed her heart. The wine instantly opened her and Lando's glasses filled The boat went through the waves with ease her hair blowing with the wind conversations flowing back and forth. A man walks towards their table with a small clipboard in hand "Are you ready to order food?" looking up towards Lando "Can I have a medium steak with chips please" The waiter nods and looks towards you "Can I have the same please" writing down your order and rushing off towards the end of the boat

The sky slowly fell into the dark blue the stars lightening up the sky the lights surrounding the boat lightening up Lando's face "Thank you for planning this it's been beautiful so far" you softly spoke Lando smiled " only for a gorgeous woman" Holding up his glass making you instantly blush clicking your glass with his. You didn't have to wait long for the meals to come but you found it more beautiful that you and lando were having a meal on a boat under the stars you couldn't really find anything better than this right?.

The night was sadly coming to an end you and Lando at the front watched the midnight waves coming in contact with the boat "Again thank you, Lando, it has been memorable no one has done that for me" Lando turned towards you grabbing your hand "and I'm glad I could make this memorable for you but uh um can I have another date with you?" making you instantly nod "of course cant wait for what you plan next" lando softly leaning forward "can I?" making you nod both off you leaning in the kiss bring you butterflies and you swore you heard fireworks in the sky but that only what comes from Disney movies but this is going to be your Disney movie.

© pacifierbby works

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ✧˖*°࿐@eloriis @sltwins @sagestack

✧˖*°࿐ 𝐀/𝐍 Please show this some love. Should I do another part of this?

[ratinayellowbandana]

having just come off a 10-hour bus i feel your boredom. prompts, mm, Imogen trying to explain why horses are so nice to Laudna (Gelvaan early days?) while Laudna plays with a barn cat?

thanks ever so much @xhopsalong for this lovely suggestion. sorry it took me a couple extra days to get around to it. I got out of the car and life immediately smacked in the face. I hope this is something like what you had in mind! I will take any excuse to bring up horse girl imogen

wc: 1358

~~~

Something was new to Laudna. 

Not the hardpacked dirt floor or the rusted bolts holding thick support beams in place. Those seemed quite old if she had to guess. Not the distinct scent of hay and grain and manure that was embedded in the walls of this place. Not the cobwebs delicately spun in the rafters. No, the barn itself was well-used, though rather impressively maintained for its age. 

Perhaps, then, it was the life that seemed to seep from the pores. The traces of human presence and domesticity that appeared in the saddle pads hung to dry on stall doors and the muddy boots stored beside the tack room. The unhurried shuffling of footsteps behind her. The muted thump of hooves on sawdust. The roof, newly repaired and still smelling of fresh wood.

Laudna sprawled on her back atop a bale of hay, limbs hanging limply off the ends. The straw stuck to her clothing, sharp and scratchy where the fabric was thinnest. Her long hair trailed on the ground, but she hardly minded. She kicked her feet idly, relishing the mild strain against the back of her knees and the swish of her skirt against her ankles. The world was pleasantly fuzzy, everything seen just a bit upside-down. 

Twilight had just begun to fall, slanted beams of sunlight having just disappeared below the loft window. Long shadows crept from the corners. Gentle orbs of glowing purple light held them off for the time being. The spheres of magic bobbed up and down slightly in the cooling evening air. 

The crickets had just begun their evening serenade when a horse whickered in a neighboring stall, and Laudna startled at the sudden noise. 

“He can’t get you,” Imogen teased in that light way of hers that instilled in Laudna a reverent desire to believe every word she spoke. 

Perhaps it was this, then, the new thing. A new friend. Her first in, well, she couldn’t quite recall, fuzzy as things are, but that was all right. Imogen was kind. She laughed with her belly and smiled with her whole face, and it warmed Laudna like a roaring hearth in the dead of winter. Imogen had one of those, too, in a house she shared with her father, and she let Laudna sit beside the fire and offered her tea and biscuits from a tin. She giggled at Laudna’s missteps and delighted at her stories, which was baffling. Laudna’s life wasn’t particularly interesting, but to Imogen, it seemed, half-baked tales of mushroom hunting were welcome interruptions to life in a rural town. 

Imogen ran a loving hand along the blaze of a bay mare and pressed a kiss to her snout. The horse’s eyes closed, relaxed, and she sighed contently. Laudna tilted her head, hair sweeping the floor. 

“You can say hello if you’d like,” Imogen said, “They won’t bite on purpose. Promise”

“On accident, then?”

“Only if they think your finger’s a carrot.” Imogen gave a lopsided grin. 

Laudna inspected one long, gray appendage, eyes crossing as she dangled it over her face. She squinted. “I think I must be an awfully rotten carrot.” 

Imogen laughed again in that easygoing manner that kicked Laudna’s sluggish heart into a flutter. Imogen blew a stray lock of purple hair off her nose and pouted when it resettled just above her lip. She went back to humming a quiet, jaunty tune Laudna did not recognize.

Something soft brushed against Laudna’s calf. 

A fluffy orange cat appeared around the straw bale, tail held proudly aloft. It rubbed its side along the hay, arching its back. 

Laudna froze as it approached. She eyed it warily. 

The cat, for its part, seemed entirely unbothered, but one could never be too cautious. Most of the Wildmother’s creatures steered clear of her. The domestic and prey animals, especially. Something about the scent of decay tended to attract only the scavengers and carrion birds. A morning’s overconfidence had earned her a nasty bite to the wrist and a talon to the shoulder. She made more of an effort to sleep in a shelter, however crude, after that. 

A small, wet nose investigated the inside of her wrist where it had been unceremoniously flopped. The tiny exhalations were cold against her skin, replaced by silky fur as the cat butted its head against her. Its tail trailed along her inner arm until an inquisitive, graying face met hers. Laudna sat up slowly, carefully swinging her legs around. 

“I see you’ve met Lady,” Imogen said. 

Two paws perched on the bale, chasing Laudna’s hand. Tentatively, she extended the back of one knuckle and gave two gentle strokes between the cat’s ears. It leaned into her touch, butting her hand in search of scritches. 

“She’s darling,” Laudna said, a little breathlessly. She reached out again, bolder having been met with one success, and Lady arched into the pointed tips of her fingernails. 

“He, actually,” Imogen corrected, shaking her head. Lady hopped up next to Laudna on all four paws, placing his front feet on her thigh. “The neighbor’s old cat had kittens a while back. We were told he was a girl when we adopted him. Only took our barn cat gettin’ pregnant to find out we were told wrong,” she chuckled quietly, “but the name stuck, and we love him, so. Isn’t that right?” Imogen cooed.

“He’s still darling.” Lady had taken up residency in Laudna’s lap, purring loudly. It was all rather peculiar. This warm, soft thing kneading her leg with pinprick claws. “I must admit,” she said, “I’m a little surprised.” 

Imogen made an inquisitive noise.

“Animals tend not to like me much, I’m afraid. At least the ones who don’t want to eat me,” Laudna confessed softly, determinedly looking only at the rumbling creature in her lap. 

“Lady and the horses seem to like you just fine.” Imogen paused her deft fingers where they had been working at a knot in the horse’s mane.

“I suppose so,” Laudna said, scratching one nail at the base of Lady’s ear. “I’m not entirely certain why that is.” 

“Well,” Imogen considered, “could be simple as they trust me, and I trust you. And if I trust you, they know it’s safe.” 

Laudna felt the color rise in her cheeks and redoubled her efforts to focus on her feline companion.

“Or,” Imogen continued easily, “it just might be because they know you’re a person worth likin’.” She resumed her untangling with her lower lip clasped between her teeth.

Laudna’s rhythmic petting faltered. “That’s… that’s very nice of you to say.” 

“‘M not just sayin’ it,” Imogen sounded almost affronted. “You’re one of the most likable people I’ve ever met.”

Laudna’s head swam. She looked up at Imogen. “I… We’ve only known each other a few weeks.” The corner of Imogen’s mouth curved upward into a playful smirk, and she raised her eyebrows. 

“My impressions of people are rarely wrong.” She tapped her temple, and Laudna flushed further.

Perhaps it was this, then, the new thing. Being known. Trusted. And, oh, that felt… well, felt like the weight of a creature, alive, warming her lap. Smelled like hay and grain and manure and, faintly, of ozone. It looked like straw clinging to her clothing and dancing lights and a horse lazily hanging its head over the stall door. Sounded like a rumbling purr that filled her whole chest and crickets in the evening and worn leather boots.  

Surely, that must be it. Not merely passing life, lurking at its fringes, but embracing it and having it embrace her in return. It was lovely, this new thing. Strange and foreign but familiar in the way one might recall a hazy childhood memory with forgotten fondness. Or come across an old favorite blouse packed away in a trunk. 

Laudna savored the feeling, the sensation that had made a home in her ribs, and she whispered a silent prayer that this might last. That the world might keep at bay just a little while longer. 

And as the sun sank fully below the horizon, Laudna reveled in the unexpected wonder of this newfound peace.

[candlemouse]

Meeting the Parents

Alex Cloudmill/Maya Dew

Ao3 Link <- Consider leaving comments/kudos here!

Butterflies brawled in Alex’s stomach, and she wiped her hands on her pants again. For like the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

No, it wasn’t Garnok rising or Sabine or Katja or—

“They’re going to love you, Alex.” Maya smiled and interlocked her fingers with Alex. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Alex shifted in the dining booth and nodded with false bravado. “I’m not nervous.”

“You don’t have to lie,” Maya said. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

Their booth in the Coffe Pot Café overlooked the Dundull bay and in the early morning, Alex could watch the fishermen set up their sails for the day.

“Okay,” Alex said. She smiled at Maya. Her warmth was so infectious, and Alex never wanted to be without it. “I’m nervous. But not as nervous as I was a few minutes ago.”

“Good,” Maya said. “Now, imagine how I felt when I had to meet the Mayor of one of the biggest and busiest cities in Jorvik because he was my girlfriend’s brother!”

It still made Alex giddy when she heard Maya call her her girlfriend. It was a novelty, okay? And even if it became habitual, Alex didn’t think her happiness at that name would fade, anyway.

“Technically, Mayor Peanut is Fort Pinta’s mayor. You just met his assistant.” Alex brought their entwined hands up and kissed Maya’s. “Besides, James is all bark and no bite.”

“To you! He immediately started quizzing me on every detail of my stay in Fort Pinta until he found another opportunity to make money.”

“He is nothing if not dedicated.”

“I think that runs in the family.”

Alex laughed.

“Maya!”

Alex straightened. Maya’s parents had arrived. They shared Maya’s green eyes, but not her red hair. As they exchanged hugs and hellos, Alex stood to the side glancing anywhere but at the family. She wasn’t used to such overt familial affection, and the brawling butterflies in her stomach had graduated to a full on fight ring.

“Ma, Pa.” Maya took Alex’s hand and smiled at her. “This is Alex.”

Alex inclined her head with an awkward smile. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Us too!” Mrs. Dew beamed.

They all sat down in the booth and continued their conversation.

“Your mother was so excited, I don’t think she spoke a single word about anything else the whole bus ride,” Mr. Dew complained.

“Well, Maya had told me so much about you, Alex, that it was hard to wait!” Her mother began to scan the menu. “Though, you must forgive me, but it’s slipped my mind what you do for a living.”

“Oh, well, I’m in druidic training at the moment,” Alex replied. She was sure it was not what her girlfriend’s parents wanted to hear—that she was joining a secretive religious sect, but there wasn’t much truth Alex was able to tell Maya’s parents. So, she was trying not to lie when she could. If everyone knew about the true danger and magic of the world…maybe it would be better. But, alas, Fripp would have her head. Not that he doesn’t already have a million reasons to be mad at her, anyway. “But, I help my brother out at Fort Pinta sometimes, too.”

“Druidic training?” Mr. Dew asked. “That’s…”

“Remember our blacksmith back in the day, honey? He was a druid.” Mrs. Dew pointed out.

“Alex is great at it, too, guys,” Maya said. “She’s even on this task force that helps out across Jorvik.”

“Oh! Didn’t you say you had picnics with…oh, what was their name? One of Alex’s colleagues.” Mrs. Dew said.

“Yeah, we have picnics with one of my, um, co-workers in the Forgotten Fields,” Alex said.

“That’s so darling,” Mrs. Dew said. “Do you like it in Jarlaheim?”

“Oh, Jarlaheim’s a beautiful city, but I don’t actually live there,” Alex said.

“Oh, I must have heard Maya wrong, then,” Mrs. Dew said. “Where do you live?”

“I have a house in Valedale, but I do often stay with Maya in the Harvest Counties. It’s easier that way.” Alex fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “Plus, I have a good friend in Jarlaheim that will let me crash if need be.”

“Oh good, good,” Mrs. Dew said.

The waitress came to take their drink orders and then was off.

“This Dundull weather is beautiful, isn’t it, Ma?”

“Oh, yes. I love the sea breeze,” Mrs. Dew said. She folded her napkin in her lap. “Alex, do you like Fort Pinta, Jarlaheim, or Valedale best?”

“There’s great things about all of Jorvik, of course. But, I do really like living in Jarlaheim. It reminds me of home. The music scene is really great.”

“What kind of music are you into?”

“Hip-hop. Some rock. What about you?”

“Ooh, I like Jazz,” Mrs. Dew said. “The blues.”

“She plays it non-stop,” Mr. Dew added. “Where did you say your hometown was?”

“Jorvik City.”

“We live there now! Which part?” Mrs. Dew asked.

“Governor’s Fall. I really did love it, but at some point, my family just couldn’t afford to live there anymore,” Alex said. It was bittersweet but Alex was glad for the memories she made there.

“You both will have to visit us next time in Jorvik City,” Mrs. Dew said.

“Ma, I don’t like the city. I can’t bring Elli with me.” Maya pouted. It was funny. Maya was completely at ease, as she should be with her parents, but Alex felt like she was currently acting the most professional and polite she ever has.

“I’m sure your horse will be okay for a few days alone.”

“No, she won’t.”

The conversation devolved into a light-hearted argument about Elli being able to handle some alone time that was interrupted by their waiter taking their drink orders. The dinner continued in a similar banter, and the tension that Alex had held slowly dissipated.

By the time they were exchanging goodbyes, Alex really felt close to them.

Once they were gone, Alex and Maya started walking to the Dundull stable.

“They really like you a lot, you know,” Maya said. She squeezed Alex’s hand.

Alex knew she had issues with parental figures. It was an obvious consequence of her childhood that manifested in both avoidance and over-attachment to her older mentors. Especially with Elizabeth gone, Alex felt like she had to re-confront all her mental struggles all over again.

She was glad to have Maya by her side, and a small part of her hoped that one day, just maybe, she could call Maya’s parents her own.

Ao3 Link <- Consider leaving comments/kudos here!

[riahlynn101]

Hopefully I'm not asking much but could you do another Vanessa x mike fic

Of course not! I love doing requests, and I especially like doing Mike x Vanessa oneshots.

Hope you're doing well :D!!

-----

It’s early spring. The snow has finally melted, leaving the ground a muddy mess, and the flowers have started budding into fragrant flowers. 

“I can’t believe I forgot the umbrella,” Mike grumbles, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His fourth-hand car finally decided to break down, so public transportation has been his friend ever since.

Fortunately, Aunt Jane took pity on him and started driving Abby to school. Unfortunately, that offer didn’t extend to Mike, and it’s likely she’ll use his lack of a car as yet another justification as to why he’s not capable enough to care for Abby. 

Even worse, his sister is angry with him for, what she sees as, “passing her off to Mean Aunt Jane.”

Mike steps in a puddle, soaking his one good pair of non-slip work shoes and his one decent pair of black slacks. He groans, shaking his foot. Beside him, Vanessa laughs. The sound instantly relieves all of his stress. 

He smiles. “Not funny,” he says. “C’mon, Mike, it’s a little funny.”

He pretends to be annoyed, shaking his head at the ground. Walking four miles to the bus stop everyday has been annoying and arduous, but it’s been less so whenever Vanessa decides to come with him. 

She, of course, has her own car. Actually, depending on if she’s on or off duty, she has two cars. And sometimes, when the weather is particularly bad or it’s extremely late, she’ll offer Mike a ride. But most of the time when she’s not working, Vanessa likes to walk with him to the bus stop. 

He worries for her, though. Logically, he knows that Vanessa’s strong. That she has mace and a taser on her at all times, but that doesn’t stop him from white-knuckling his flip-phone the entire bus ride. Only after he receives the telltale text “made it home,” does his heart stop racing. 

She clicks her tongue suddenly, shaking Mike from his thoughts. “Oh, no,” she says. “It says here that the bus isn’t running because the drivers are striking for better working conditions.”

“Damn,” Mike mutters. “I’ll have to call my boss.” His newest boss, a stern-looking man with the build of Arnold Schwarzenegger at his peak, is usually fairly understanding. Even more so when Mike informed him of the “series of unfortunate events” that make up his day-to-day life. 

He turns away, shielding his phone under his jacket from the rain as he types in the number. It’s a quick phone call that ends with his boss giving Mike the day off - something that he usually likes to avoid, especially so close to Abby’s birthday and the rent being due. But his boss comforts him with the prospect of more hours for the upcoming week. 

“He take it okay?” Vanessa asks, standing underneath the bus stop (which, why didn’t he think of that?)

Mike nods. “Better than most of my bosses would’ve.” This is true. But, then again, his last boss was a child murderer and serial abuser of the woman standing across from him, so maybe his standards are in the toilet when it comes to people of authority. 

The rain, which up until that point had only been a light drizzle, starts to come down harder. Mike joins Vanessa under the small bus shelter. The tin roof - an installation by some local boy scouts doing a community service project - is barely enough to keep the rain at bay. 

“Well,” Mike starts. “What do we do now?” The weather channel he put on after Abby begrudgingly got into Aunt Jane’s car said it was supposed to rain until early the next morning. But he - they - can’t stand here until then. He promised Abs that he’d make grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner tonight. 

Vanessa shoots him a mischievous smile. He opens his mouth to ask why she’s smiling, but before he can, Vanessa takes him by the hand and drags him out from underneath the protection of the overhang. 

Rain hammers down on them. It soaks his hair and clothes. “Why?” he asks, doing his best to blink away the excess rainwater from his eyes. It drips from the tips of his hair down his face, making it hard to see. 

Vanessa looks up at the sky, looking oddly content in spite of being bombarded by the rain. She looks at him. “I’ve always liked the rain. What about you Mike? Do you like the rain?”

“Not particularly,” he says. He sees her frown, so he quickly adds. “I mean, I’m not used to it. Not since Garrett was taken.”

Her frown deepens, which makes Mike feel terrible. Why does he always have to bring down the mood?

“Then think of it as a way to be closer to him.”

He breathes. “Okay.” Mike never thought of it that way. So much of his energy has gone to avoiding thoughts of his brother, that he hadn’t even considered doing the exact opposite. Trying to be closer to him. Keeping his memory alive. He suddenly feels ashamed. 

“I guess we have to walk back either way.” Mike looks at the daunting road, the one with a cutoff sidewalk and at least ten lawns with signs that say “don’t walk on the grass,” or Mike’s favorite “trespassers will be shot.” 

“Yeah, we do,” Vanessa says. “But that just means we can spend more time together.”

Mike clears his throat, ducking his head down so she doesn’t see the red that’s surely taking over his face. “Right, right. We should get going then. I know you have a shift in a couple hours, and Abby will be home by three.”

Vanessa holds out her hand. “C’mon.”

He takes her hand, allowing her to lead him through the rain, past the houses where gruff, middle-aged men sit on their porches, holding rifles. Past rundown storefronts that aren’t open half the time. Past the sidewalk that cuts off halfway down the road. And past the winding roads with potholes so deep they should be classified as a sinkhole. All the way back to Mike’s house, where Vanessa’s car sits in the driveway. 

“And then, I said, ‘do it yourself.’” 

Mike laughs. “And what did he say to that?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I walked away.” 

He snorts. “No way!” 

“Yep,” she says. 

Their conversation peters out. They stand at the end of the driveway. The rain has died down a little. Not that that helps their clothes which cling to them like a second skin, or their hair which hangs in front of their eyes. 

“Well,” Mike says, hand slipping away from hers. He instantly misses the warmth but tamps down the urge to reach out. “Thanks for walking with me.”

Vanessa smiles but there’s underlying bittersweetness to it, which makes no sense to Mike. He’s never been good at figuring other people out, and even less adept at figuring out the right thing to say. 

The moment passes and Vanessa turns to her car. “Same time tomorrow?”

“And the next day,” Mike responds. A childish part of him hopes it rains tomorrow as well. He thinks, if he weren’t so afraid of scaring her away, he’d like to dance with her in the rain. But that’s a fantasy.  A daydream so far-fetched and outlandish it could never happen.

Right?

[dustedmagazine]

Neutrals — New Town Dream (Slumberland/Static Shock)

Photo by Kelly Sullivan

Neutrals are a San Francisco-based band but you wouldn’t know it by listening. The singer, Allan McNaughton, has a knotty Scottish burr, even now, years on from relocating to the Bay Area. Musically, he and his bandmates — Lauren Matsui on bass and Phillip Lantz on drums — favors a kicky, catchy, bash-and-pop variety of post-punk that has more than a whiff of the Television Personalities in it.

New Town Dream is a bit of a concept album, referring in multiple places to the Pollok Free State protests of the early 1990s, where residents banded together to stop the construction of a highway through their beloved park in the suburbs of Glasgow. For two years, people lived in makeshift shelters in the park, cooking communally, making music and developing strong bonds with one another.  Some even took up residence in the trees themselves. The protests were ultimately unsuccessful, and the highway was built.  “Stop the Bypass,” one of the disc’s most raucous tunes, includes a chant from the protests; “The Iron that Never Swung” seems related, too, mourning a golf course promised but never delivered. Sings McNaughton, “All the effort was in vain/we lost our land to eminent domain/where there should be a fairway, the council put a new motorway.”

Indeed, if there’s a running thread through New Town Dream, it’s the gap between idealism and what actually happens once money and politics and other real-world factors come into play. “New Town Dream (Version)” is an altered version of a song from the Bus Stop Nights EP in 2022. Dusted’s Jonathan singled it out, writing, “Musically the guitar tone takes on a razoring, quixotic quality, most urgently on “New Town Dream” and its 107 seconds of keening post punk. A little more dissonant and it could be a Swell Maps tune, tucked in among that run of short songs that opens A Trip to Marineville.”  Here it runs closer to Gang of Four with its melodica and dub bass, but it slips in some extended retro-futurist spoken word about planned communities. An educational voice making the case for planned communities outside of city centers, including shops, banks, homes and, critically, green space, as an antidote to what, “people rightly deplore in this country [which] could be called a yob culture.”  The kicker is, of course, that the minute city planners need that land for something else, poof, it’s gone.

Not all the songs stick to this broad topic, and indeed, a couple of the best are less didactic. “That’s Him on the Daft Stuff Again” is pure C-86-ish bliss, full of joy and melancholy in equal measure. McNaughton sings in a half-chant, a twist of melody under a rain of mordant words and very like the Television Personalities’ Dan Treacy. The resembles continues through the instruments, all a bounding bass and chiming, rainbow-splintering guitar chords and bumptious, disruptive drumming.

“Substitute Teacher,” slashes a little more sharply, its jutting, off-kilter guitar work sharing near equal billing with the growl of bass. The “s-s-substitute” stutter nods to the Who, the lyrics are closer to the Kinks’ lyrical wordplay. The kids may have written him off before he finishes writing his name on the board, but a distinct, individual person comes to life in a few lines: “He’s got a passion for mathematics/after work he’s into amateur dramatics/you may have seen him in a Death of a Salesman, you may have seen him in Pirates of Penzance/he was a triumph in the Scottish play/he’s only here for a day.”

All of which put Neutrals in the very top tier of jangling, hyper-articulate pop-punk bands, alongside Ducks Ltd., Reds, Pinks and Purples and the Infinites. There’s really nothing neutral about them.

Jennifer Kelly

[bronx-bomber87]

We’re at the S1 finale. Hard to believe. Thank you all for staying on this journey with me it’s been super rewarding. When I started didn't expected the support I got. Also been fun to fill the hiatus with this since we're all waiting for S6. Not sure when this strike will end. So fun to rewatch the series this way. Rewatching s1 with analytical eyes and knowing where they are now has been eye opening. I’ve seen a lot of people writing about how writers said Chenford wasn’t meant to happen this early on. Idk that’s true with the incredible foundation that has been laid in s1.

The beautiful base that continues to solidly with each ep. Especially this finale. I think the finale is when if you hadn’t been shipping them before you were after this ep. I was all in day one I just knew it would be a slow burn before we got there. Also Eric and Melissa are amazing together. Drew me in right away. Their chemistry is unparalleled. Can’t deny that. Like I said in my first review I started watching for Nathan and Eric. Never knowing the beautiful ship I was gonna get along the way. Anyways off to the finale we go :)

1x20 freefall

It’s the week of their big test. It decides whether or not they get to continue on in the FTO program. You can get a score as low as an 80 and pass. To the T.O.’s that’s a fail. Tim tells a Lucy if she gets anything less than a 93 it’s an insult to him LOL Lucy doesn’t even let it phase her how far we’ve come. She continues on asking what he’s going to do with all his free time when she passes?

Tim is confused at first then realizes she’s talking about her daily evals. She suggests a book club haha Tim as far as he’s come is still Tim in T.O. mode around others. Gotta keep up the hard ass act. Tells her ‘Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly. I will continue to judge you every minute.’ haha damn Tim way to shut down her playful banter lmao

First call of the day for our lovely duo is at a psychic shop. Silent alarm has been tripped. Guy is going after this psychic because she ‘saw’ he killed his wife and is losing it on her. It was a fluke she figured it out and she says as much haha Afterwards she brazenly hits on Tim and he has no idea how to handle it.

His embarrassed face is everything. He wasn’t expecting that at all. It’s like he doesn’t know he is gorgeous ass man. The way he looks back at Lucy is priceless. Like please help me baha Lucy is enjoying it immensely. Her face says it all I’m dying. She isn’t helping him out of this one. He awkwardly walks away from the psychic it’s too damn funny. Tim Bradford left speechless. What world we live in haha

After a light start to their day it comes to serious halt. There’s a deadly virus and possible outbreak they all have to prevent. This came from the dead body Nolan and Bishop found earlier at the bus station. He was tied into the terrorist threat. This postpones their test naturally. Lucy and Tim are tasked with talking to one of the citizens that took same bus as this guy.

As they’re rolling up to this guys house Lucy says she thought the test was going to be the most stressful part of her day. Tim tells her best case scenario it’s tomorrows problem. Lucy makes a nervous joke 'What’s worst case scenario? Never mind don’t answer that' haha Oh Lucy the most stressful part of your day starts now.

The gentleman thinks they’re there to bring back his luggage. Tim enters the bedroom without Lucy. They tell Pete they are there just to interview him. He pulls out the bag he grabbed by mistake and shows Tim the ‘weird science equipment ‘inside. That he cut his finger on it looking for an address. Tim’s red flags are immediately up when he says this. Lucy can instantly tell something is up but Tim tells her to stay at bay. First instinct is always to protect her. Tim see’s the guys cut finger and alarm bells are going off for him. Lucy calls it in while she waits outside the bedroom for Tim.

The guy then coughs up blood on Tim. He freezes and looks the most panicked I've ever seen him. I LOVE how Eric can express so much with just a look. He's such a good actor I can not. After he collects himself a bit he hears Lucy coming to check on him and shuts the door instantly. Despite Lucy yelling ‘No!’ When he does.

Tim refuses to let her be around whatever this is even a second. Creating an immediate barrier to keep Lucy safe. He locks the door to keep her out there. Pete starts to freak out. Tim tells Pete that his partner has called an ambulance for them. Makes me happy while he’s trying to keep this guy calm he calls Lucy his ‘partner’ not his rookie but his partner. It’s the little things ❤️ Lucy is panicking like crazy on the other side of this door. She wants to be let in to help him. It’s killing her they’re separated right now.

Lucy is begging him to leave that guy in there and join her outside. Tim being the honorable man he is refuses to. Tells her they need to keep this as contained as possible. Lucy is panic stricken and wants to help him but is trapped outside. Tim is doing his best to keep her calm. The words he says I think are for them both. He just had blood spewed onto him. Tim is being as calm as one could be in that type of situation.

He’s the one in danger and his first thought is to put Lucy at ease. To try and keep her calm. To 'keep her head in the game' If she could see his face as he says these things...She would see how very not fine he is. The most rattled we’ve seen him the entire season. This moment and honestly this entire episode is definitely another huge crack in his wall with her. Letting that Lucy light seep in just a little bit more.

The CDC finally arrive and they set up a quarantine zone much to Lucy's dismay. She’s on the edge and wants to get Tim out of there ASAP. Can’t stand the idea of him sitting in there for an hour or more while they wait for the vaccine. Dr. Morgan asks him if she can put him to work while he’s in there. Tim says yes. Lucy tells him to please be careful while he’s in there. Such a worried wifey.

Tim uses his body cam to help them see inside the bag more. They figure out how they’re going to spread it through a mist fan. As Tim continues to search the bag they see Pete lifting a chair. Lucy freaks out and yells for Tim to watch out. All they see is him getting knocked out. Lucy is losing her mind outside not knowing what’s happening in that room. The absolute terror in her voice. My heart. How helpless she feels on the other side of that door.

Tim wakes up inches from the blood stain on the carpet rolling toward him. He’s able to get away from it and tases Pete. After that Tim gets him locked to the bed frame. All the while Lucy is losing it outside. Desperate to hear from him. Calling out his name multiple times. Begs Tim to answer her. She is out of her mind with worry. If she was allowed to break that door down she would.

Tim finally responds to Lucy tells her that he’s ok. She asks him if he’s really is. Because she knows him and how he tries to put a strong facade for her sake. Tim attempts to make a joke about it. His voice cracking a bit with worry. Trying to make jokes about this but his armor has been cracked. This a deflection right now more than anything else. His vulnerability coming out of him with her whether he likes it or not.

He can't hide anything from her and and Lucy picks up on his worry quickly. Knows he's attempting to mask how he is really feeling right now. She can hear it in his voice. From there she turns into ultra worried wife mode. She demands they get that damn vaccine here right now. She is losing her patience while he’s trapped in that room without her. Love me some assertive/worried Lucy.

I can't imagine what he is going through all by himself in that room. Poor Tim has to sit there and watch this guy die right in front of him. Can't help the man just has to sit there and watch him die. The look on his face ugh. The utter terror on his face. Lucy is already freaking out if she could see him…she would break down that damn door virus or not and drag him out of there.

Next begins the iconic wall separation scene. As I said earlier if you weren't shipping them before you sure as hell were after this moment. Lucy tells him she just checked with Dr Morgan. That the vaccine is minutes away. Tim instantly knows this is a lie to comfort him. Its here we see a chunk of his wall break off and hit the ground as he compliments her. Naturally she’s going to rib him about it (because she can't actually process when he does compliment her) but it's also to keep his head clear. Just like he's done for her so many times before.

The role reversal is so evident in this scene. Lucy is doing what he normally does for her. Trying to keep him calm by making jokes. Keeping it light. The smile on his face when she ask for it to be in writing is too precious. He needs Lucy and all her sunshine ways right now. He's holding onto to every word she is saying. She comforting/calming him just by being there for him.

This is such a huge moment of vulnerability for Tim. The biggest one of the entire season really. That bond they’ve built up to this point is result of that. Lucy tells him its going be ok that she truly believes that. Tim is so defeated at this point. He doesn't take much stock in her words. Eric and Melissa crush this scene. To have this good of a dynamic with a door between them. My goodness they're amazing. Like I said earlier Eric is incredible with how he conveys what he's feeling with a look. This scene has it in spades. Look at this poor man's face down below. Makes me wanna cry.

You can see his normal resolve is dissolving rapidly. Which is why Lucy is there to keep it intact. Tim looks like he’s on the verge of tears while she’s trying to comfort him. Lucy is trying to be his rock. Its why I think he is spilling his guts to her. He trusts her with his thoughts/feelings. Tim is being the most vulnerable he's ever been with her right now. Telling her everything. That if he ends up showing symptoms he’s not going to allow himself to die that way.

Gotta love Lucy trying to pick up the pieces and keep him together. Being as optimistic as she can while he is hopeless. For him to share such a dark thought is huge. That he would rather kill himself than die like that. He is emotionally exposing himself to her right now. In a way I’m sure he hasn’t since Isabel. This is a massive step for him entrusting her with his thoughts and emotions. Because right now Tim thinks this is it for him. If he's going out he wants to make sure she knows his plans.

Lucy is very aware what he is saying but is trying to talk him out if it. Desperately trying to keep his head level. She finally lets out a tear she's been holding the whole scene. He's considering killing himself and she can't do a damn thing about it. The stress of the situation finally getting to her when she sheds that tear. This is an iconic moment for them. Tim being so openly vulnerable with her and Lucy being there to receive it best way she can. Gah it’s all so good. This scene 'hurts so good' as they say. This moment is a milestone for them and their relationship. Where they go from just TO/Rookie to friends.

The vaccine finally arrives and Lucy tries to follow the doctor in. Dr. Morgan won’t let her since she is not protected. You can tell its killing her to have to stay back. That look they share between them when Dr. Morgan is checking him out. Phew lord. She says he dodged a bullet. The looks in this scene are so telling. These two have a masters in silent communication. That look of worry/panic on her face. She wants to run up and hug him. That clearly isn’t in the cards. So she just intently watches him. Lucy doesn’t take her eyes off him the entire time.

The way he stares back at her and lets her know it’s ok. I’m ok. Even the small smirk towards the end. They just went through something very emotional and intense together. Tim says so much with just a look for her. Yeah he dodged bullet and he did so because of Lucy. She didn't leave his side for a second. He recognizes this and conveys it in a look. Such an intimate moment for them with no words. God I love them.

Before this episode ends Let’s take a moment to enjoy Tim Bradford in a tight white T-shirt shall we? Mmm. Yum. The rest join Lucy and Tim at Pete's house. Having returned from taking down the other culprits. They’re all making jokes now that they know he’s ok. Saying how he’ll refuse to take the ambulance or wheelchair haha

As they’re making their jokes Tim walks to said ambulance. As he does he looks light headed and collapses. All jokes stop and they rush around him. Lucy being the first they hold her back. Thus ends s1 with a cliffhanger.

I think I watched this finale a disgusting amount of times haha I was so eager for s2 and more of Tim/Lucy. To see what happens to Tim in the premiere and all that.

~~~~

Side notes-Non chenford moments

Did love the Wopez in this ep they’re very cute. That’s about it haha very focused on the chenford goodies for this ep.

We made it through s1 woo amazing. Thank you all for the support I was given through our entire season. Your likes/comments/reblogs inspire me to do more. I shall see you all in s2 :)

[shinyhappysims]

Onyeka Family Update #2

All the Oneyka kids are finally married, so I think now is a good time for another update.

As a treat, this update will be from Adaeze’s POV, because we love to hear from a fellow snarker. Long post ahead because I probably won’t be doing this for the Onyeka fam again and I want to give a semblance of a conclusion to some of their stories.

My parents Bre (66) and Chukwuma (69) Onyeka are living their golden years in Henford-on-Bagley. I would say they tried their best at raising us but I’m not so sure I believe that. My parents and I don’t talk much, which is more than okay by me. They’ve forgiven me for the whole “secretly applied to college, snuck out and took a bus an hour away and never came back” thing. It’s the fact that literally everything else I’ve done after feels like a personal attack on them and everything they taught me. That’s more their problem than mine, to be honest.

The oldest Nnadi (39) is married to Miguel (39). They have a staggering quiver of 13 arrows: Gideon (21), Ephraim (19), Shoshanna(17), Bartholomew (14), Abigail (12), Obadiah (10), Keturah (8), Solomon (6), Tirzah (5), Maranatha (4), Galilee (3), Naphtali (1), Ebenezer (0). Yes, I definitely knew all the names of my sister’s kids off the top of my head and didn’t stalk her Simstagram and write down the names just a few minutes before this. Nnadi is obnoxious. I’m not mincing my words because she’s never had the grace to do so with me. She’s literally the person people talk about when they say they don’t like Christians. But that’s amazing for her. She can claim persecution for her beliefs. My parents are so proud that they made her a perfect little doormat for Jesus. All of her kids so far seem to be the same way. Glory be, I guess.

Kelechi (38) and Sandrine (41) are the Pastor and 1st lady of Calvary Baptist Church in Brindleton Bay. They have 4 children: Faith (16), Daniel (9), Noah (7), and Grace (5). They are, in my opinion, true Christians. Kelechi always has been supportive of me and my siblings that aren’t the way my parents dreamed. As a pastor, he tries his hardest to give objective answers and uses the bible to support his advice, which has led to his popularity as a mentor. Calvary’s population has nearly doubled in his time as pastor. Kelechi and Sandrine were not intending to have such a large gap between Faith and Daniel. Their marriage was very strained in the first few years and they thought having another child would be the fix. Unfortunately, Sandrine had a battle with cancer. Luckily it was caught in the early stages and she pulled through, but the way Kelechi treated her during that time strengthened their relationship and they had more children because they actually loved each other now. If anyone deserves that happy ending, it’s them.

My twin and favorite sibling Chidi (36) is in an open domestic partnership with the lovely Sade (37). They live in San Myshuno and have no kids, and probably never will. Chidi is an attorney and Sade is an artist. For awhile, Chidi flew under the radar and didn’t make too many waves but that changed about 5 years ago. I think it was a combination of turning 30 and meeting Sade that made him want to stop trying to appease our parents and just live the way he wanted. Chidi is no longer a Christian. He wanted to stay one at first but the more he deconstructed, the more he realized it wasn’t a fit for him.

It’s me, Adaeze (36)! The Onyeka family failure—not at all. My parents just wish I was. When my husband Raj (38) isn’t being an absolute dreamboat he’s an art restoration specialist at the Simsonian Museum here in Newcrest. We have the coolest little girl named Kali (6) and I haven’t told anyone yet, but we have a second baby on the way! My parents have never met Kali and I don’t plan on letting them. Growing up is hard enough when you don’t have your own grandparents trying to drag you into a cult.

My sister Isioma (34) and her husband Anwar (36) are living their best lives in Del Sol Valley. They have 5 kids and are expecting number 6 anyday now: Imani (11), Aaliyah (9), Malik (8), and twins Layla and Rahim (4). Isioma has somehow mastered the balance between impressing Mom and Dad and doing whatever she wants. As much as I love her, there are just some things that I can’t talk to Isioma about. She’s nowhere near as bad as Nnadi, but I don’t think she realizes just how close minded she still is. She’s slowly getting better though.

(hi it’s kwanjai please ignore that Layla’s hair glitched black and the twin’s diapers aren’t changed it’s been a long day and I refuse to take this pic again lmao)

Jachike (32) lives in Windenburg with his wife Maisie (29). They have 7 children: Renata (9), Beaumont (7), Irving (6), Gwendolyn (5), Cordelia (2), Anneliese (1) and Hans (0). I’m fully convinced that they only got married because they were horny for each other and now they don’t know what to do except keep fucking and having more kids. They don’t really seem well matched in my opinion either. Growing up, Jachike was a down to earth, guy next door type, and Maisie just seems extremely out of touch. I mean… she named a child Hans. Maisie also mentioned she only wanted 8 kids, but she’s got a lot of child bearing years left, so I have no clue what her plan is.

Nnadi Jr. Ifeanyi (29) is married to Nolan (40) and is the proud mother of 6 children: Jordan (8), Lorelai (6), Connor (5), Thomas (4), Alanna (2), and Natasha (0). The only difference between Ifeanyi and Nnadi is that Ifeanyi follows the bible’s command for women to be quiet. All that hate just simmers on the inside. The average person would be rightfully weirded out by her and her husband’s age gap, but Ifeanyi wears it with pride. She thinks it’s a testament to her maturity and meekness. No, bestie… you were groomed. Anyways, my money is on her to have the most kids out of all of us.

Ifeanyi’s much cooler twin sister Onyinye (29) is married to Joseph (29) and they have 1 daughter, Nwanneka (1). Growing up I became really close to Onyinye. When I moved out I felt like I was leaving behind my child. Onyinye is like me in a lot of ways: science career, having kids on our own terms, only ones with hot husbands. The only difference is she’s still a Christian. I’m proud she was still able to find the loving aspects of that religion, even though I wasn’t. I also love that she doubled down on her emo phase. I remember our mom used to force her and Ifeanyi to dress alike in sickeningly pink bows and huge, frilly dresses.

Lotanna (27) lives in a sad beige house in Henford-on-Bagley with his sad beige wife Tori (27) and their sad beige children Brixten (2) and Trigg (0). Lotanna is the sibling I’m most wary of. He seems normal on the surface, especially now that he’s married to picture perfect Tori, but then he opens his mouth and the foulest statement you’ve ever heard pops out. He’s never evolved passed edgy Simeddit thread humor, except now it’s not humor, he legitimately thinks that way. I seriously feel bad for his future daughters.

Sochima (26) has been married to Ciaran (28) for just under a year. I’ve never met Ciaran in person. He seems like the average guy we grew up with, which would be horrifying for me, but a dream for Sochima. Surprised that we haven’t gotten a pregnancy announcement from them yet. I would’ve put her up there with Nnadi and Ifeanyi in terms of the number of babies she would pop out. Wonder what’s going on there.

[magicofsimplestories]

6. Deceitful Valentine

What better than Valentine’s Day could have been invented as a welcoming celebration of spring’s arrival? Exactly, nothing. 

With the tickling spring feeling flowing through her veins Cassie was hurrying to Windenburg. There, at the famous boardwalk coffee shop she was expecting to have the most romantic date with Jacob since the very beginning of their relationship. Oh yes, she had very particular plans for the afternoon with her boyfriend. 

Their flirty conversation over the tasty vanilla coffee was followed by the mesmerizing make-out in the coffee shop stuff room, where they sneaked in upon Cassie’s initiative. 

“I want you, Jake,” whispered Cassandra into Jacob’s lips feeling the warmth of his hands sliding down her waist. 

He tensed and froze making her open her eyes and give him a questioning look. The coldness that she met in his brown eyes made her heart sink. 

“We have to stop, Cassandra,” said Jacob bluntly taking her by her shoulders and making her step away.

Cassie stared at him in disbelief feeling her cheeks burn. 

“Why?” was the only thing she could whisper. 

“I… Sorry, Cassie, I don’t think it’s appropriate now. I mean, we’re at a public place…”

“Who the fuck cares?” she retorted with anger tunes becoming more distinct in her voice. 

“I do, Cassie,” Jacob responded calmly but firmly. “I want it to be special for both you and me.”

They parted away soon after the “incident”, with Jacob claiming he had to help his father in the evening. Watching her boyfriend catch a bus on the other side of the street, Cassie was barely holding the tears. She knew that Jacob’s motives were purely noble, but it was still hard to deal with the bitter taste of being rejected. 

A soft touch on her shoulder and a familiar male voice made her flinch and turn around.

“Cassie, are you okay?”

“Don! Hi!” She responded with purposeful cheeriness and a wide smile. “Uhm, well… Things are… complicated. It’s never easy at the Goth household, you know,” she added with a nervous giggle. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Glad to see you too,” the man responded with a smile. 

“Would you join?” She asked nodding at the free chair at her table. 

“With great pleasure,” he agreed putting his cup down on the table. “So, tell me about the complicated part of the Goth household.”

She sighed admitting that there was actually a lot to catch up with since their last encounter.

“Well, on Christmas father invited his lover Dina to move in. A week ago she found out that she is pregnant, so my happy father proposed to her. It all has been a huge secret till now. Today’s Valentine’s issue of the “GLAM” reveals the thing. The wedding is in a month.”

She glanced at Don and to her surprise found him frowning. 

“Is that so…” he said huskily after a moment of tense silence. 

“Yeah, I’m not a big fan of this thing either,” shook her head Cassie. “To be precise I’m not a big fan of this woman Dina. But I promised my little brother Alex to behave “for the sake of the happiness” of our father,” she commented with clear bitter tones in her voice. 

Don nodded reflectively but didn’t say anything. He finished his coffee, sighed and then a warm smile reappeared on his face. 

“Would you like to take a walk? They say the sunset is extremely beautiful here, on the boardwalk,” he said getting up from his chair. 

Cassie smiled shyly and nodded. 

Getting up from her place and following Don out of the coffee shop she felt an unexpected heat wave spread from the middle of her chest through her whole body. They walked to the seaside and took a free bench overlooking the bay. It was an unusually for Windenburg warm early spring evening. The soft sound of the sea waves and Don’s deep voice washed away Cassie’s pains and troubles of the day. 

“How’s your investigation going?” asked Don after a moment of their silent observation of the setting sun. 

She was too involved in watching the horizon, so she frowned not getting his question at first.

“Investigation?”

“Of your mother’s disappearance.”

“Ah,” she nodded and sighed sadly. “Unfortunately still where it was when we last spoke of it. Honestly, I’ve been having a lot on my plate lately, so the investigation took a backseat.”

“I get you there,” smirked Don. He took a moment of thoughtful hesitation before continuing. “About Dina. She’s not a bad person, Cassie. And I’m glad to hear that you decided to give her a chance. You’re a wise young woman. I never doubted that.”

She felt her cheeks go purple red. There was something … utterly exciting in hearing Don calling her a “young woman”. 

“I…” she stuttered. “Thanks. Uhm… May I ask you how well you know Dina?”

He smiled and nodded. Don and the Caliente twins Dina and Nina have been close friends since their early school years. 

“So pretty well if not to say perfect,” he concluded with another charming smile. 

“And you say I have to give her a chance?” 

“You don’t have to, Cassie, but you’re impressively wise to do so.”

She smirked. 

Bloody hell, why did she enjoy his compliments this damn much?

[Beginning] [Back] [Next]

[holidayvisa]

23 February 2024 - Woke up in Piha at Elise's house. She had to work today, so we got up together around 6:15 am. We left her house around 7, me on my motorbike headed home and she in her park ranger uniform headed to work. I had a really great sunrise ride from Piha back to Henderson. I'm feeling more comfortable on the motorbike and more confident with the windy roads to and from Piha. They're fun to drive now, instead of scary. When I got to Henderson I was surprised to find that Arnie and Jimmy were both still asleep. Usually, they're both early-risers, but today I was up before them; needless to say, this is VERY rare 😅. I started making pancakes, something that I'd been talking about for a while. I cooked us up some blueberry pancakes, and the three of us, Jimmy, Arnie, and me, sat out on the back porch and started feasting on blueberry pancakes, banana slices, peanut butter, and Canadian maple syrup. Uncle Mitch came over from next door, and I offered him dinner pancakes; he said, no, that he'd just eaten. I got him a plate, and threw a pancake on it. After he finished the pancake, he grabbed a second one! All morning, those three were doing their best American accents talking about American pancakes 🤣 I love when they do their American accents!

After breakfast, Jimmy asked me to join him on some missions. I ALWAYS say yes to Jimmy's missions. I got in his car, and we ran a few errands. We got back home at noon, and he got a call from his work, saying that he had the afternoon off too! We went on some more missions. We bought some plants for Jimmy's vegetable garden at the local Bunnings (New Zealand's Home Depot). I planted all his plants in his vegetable garden and watered them. Hopefully they do okay.

Jimmy's really excited for Maddie to watch the garden grow. Jimmy had a bunch of chicken sausages, and I cooked those up for us. The three of us ate lunch together on the back porch.

Jimmy and I grabbed swimmies and towels and got in Jimmy's car for more missions. Jimmy had a bunch more errands to run, but eventually wanted to end up in south Auckland to go to the Chinese new year festival at the manakau sports bowl. I don't really know what I'm getting into whenever I volunteer to go on missions with Jimmy. He's got a plan, but I know what that plan is maybe 50% of the time 😅. We went to Judge's Bay and Orekei and walked around there. Jimmy showed me a couple places he likes to go to relax and get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

We went to Joshy's house to drop off some petrol. We said hi to Joshy and Essence and the doggos, Nala, Tahi, and Ace. But we didn't stay long.

We drove to Jimmy's work to park the car, and Elise was there waiting when we arrived. The three of us caught a bus from Jimmy's work to the Chinese new year festival. We walked around and took photos of the intricate lanterns.

Jimmy bought a box of 40 donuts that we all snacked on. After spending a good long while there, we headed back to the bus stop. We waited for the bus for close to an hour, but it never came! So we got an Uber back to Jimmy's work. I drove Jimmy's car and Elise drove her car back to my house. Elise had coordinated and arranged to have sole use of the Keddle House, a cabin inside her regional park that people can't rent out. Usually, to reserve the Keddle House, one has to put in for it six months in advance, but because Elise is a park ranger, she was able to snag it for a couple days (there was a last-minute cancellation). In New Zealand, they call a beach house like the Keddle House a "bach." At my flat in Henderson, we grabbed some blankets and some clothes, and then we drove to Anawhata, to the Keddle house. When we got to the Keddle house, it was already very late. But, YOLO, so we walked all the way down to the beach. Immediately upon arriving at the beach, we saw a shooting star. That's three walks to the beach with Elise, and we saw a shooting star each time. We howled at the full moon. We sunk our feet into the soft sand and enjoyed the magic of the night.

We walked back up to the bach and passed out.

I'm grateful for Jimmy. I'm grateful for his friendship, for his positivity, for his trust, and for his kindness. I'm grateful to go on missions with him and to help him with his vegetable garden because I know he's always looking after me too. Getting to help him plant his vegetable garden is an easy way to reciprocate and show my love and gratitude. I'm grateful for Elise. I'm grateful for her organizing and coordinating us staying at the bach!

[heyits-asher]

Full Name: Asher Jayden Ortiz 

Nicknames: Ash

Pronouns and Gender: He/Him, Cis Male

Age and Birthday: 27 years old, December 2nd

Birth place: Scottsdale, Arizona 

Sexuality: Pansexual

Status: Taken by @thegillyxliang

Occupation: Surf's Up Surf Shop Attendant

Education: High School Diploma

Residence: Seabrook Quarter

Time in Aurora Bay: 10 months (March '23)

Face claim: Froy Gutierrez

tw theft, emotional neglect, bullying and violence mention, arrest mention, adhd mention and medication

HISTORY —

Asher’s earliest memories were of being raised by everybody and nobody all at once. His mother was either happy and overbearing or she hardly had the patience to handle him or his siblings at all after long shifts down at the local diner. A busy household full of kids, he had been the youngest for five years of his life. That did not mean he was doted on, but rather, passed around.

His father was a frail ghost of a man, a hollowed-out shell whose presence cast an uncomfortable pallor over the home that over time. He ended up laid off at his construction job early in Ash's life, and he became a man Ash grew to resent when he felt more absent despite his consistent presence in their trailer. Molding to the recliner in the living room, only paying mind to the television.

His oldest sister held things together, for the most part, along with his older brother. They were a cohesive unit to help around the house as their mother worked long hours and their father sat in his favorite recliner watching reruns to his favorite shows.

Until the day his older brother decided enough was enough and he left, his mother screaming while he disappeared. Asher was already prone to bouts of fiery frustration, next in line as the middle child he helped shoulder some responsibilities with his eldest sibling for the sake of his younger twin sisters.

A tumultuous home life bled into school, and not one to tolerate bullies – not for himself, and even less so for the two girls – Asher lashed out frequently on both of their behalf. He also lacked his own emotional regulation, and when things got to be too much, too fast, expressing the frustrations was not an easy task for him. He'd shut down or he'd lash out, no in between.

He was always moving, always a part of him fidgeting. His knee incessantly bouncing under the table and hands touching anything within reach never failed to eventually make his mother snap at him, and, having not realized he was doing it, he would comply. Give it a couple minutes later, he’d be thinking about something else and would be at it again. Itching to move, unable to focus. He needed stimulation of some sort, distractions, to have multiple things to divide his attention with until it was too much. A diagnosis of ADHD only led to medication that Asher tried and then after weeks of brain fog, he flushed instead.

The first thing he stole from an actual business was a pack of gum from the gas station he was working at. After then it was some hygiene products and next, cigarettes, even though he didn’t smoke at the time. That's when he learned there was something addictive about the thrilling feeling of theft, and he reveled in the anticipation of making sure he didn’t get caught. Not to mention the lucrative venture it was to resell any stolen products from cartons of cigarettes to pints of booze. It is only expected he had a few petty-crime arrests, but that just taught him to be sneakier about it.

Somewhere along the lines, Asher decided he was done with Scottsdale, Arizona, so when he was twenty-three he decided to follow his older brother's footsteps. His youngest sisters were old enough now to fend for themselves, and half the cash he made reselling stolen items was stashed in an envelope that he taped behind his dresser. So, he hopped on a bus and headed West.

Passed Phoenix and through Nevada, he ended up getting off somewhere near Los Angeles. Apartment prospects were slim, and it took a minute before he found himself sofa surfing via Craigslist adds. He paid those who allowed him to sleep on the couch as he bounced around until he headed out of the bigger city life and south.

Once again, he hopped on a bus and took it to a nameless destination. That ended up being Aurora Bay. A smaller beach town that is more laid back, right on the water which Ash has grown to love, and easy to navigate as his feet search for firm ground. He's still wet behind the ears, but his ability to adapt as made it easier for him to make it home. Between his wages and the occasional… petty theft… he found a studio to live in. Even with his mattress on the floor still, it's home for now, and he couldn't be more content.

TRAITS.

+ Easy-going, amicable

+/- Adventurous, adaptable

- Reckless, impatient

HEADCANONS.

⊹ his favorite nonalcoholic drink is strawberry lemonade. as for alcoholic, he has a preference for beers, especially any sort of craft IPAs. though he is also more than happy to settle with a bottle of corona.

⊹ he doesn't take medication for his ADHD. one trial run on something he cannot remember the name of turned him into a zombie for three months - his words. he didn't feel the same, his mind was foggy, he had no drive. that was enough for ash to just avoid any prescription aid there on out.

⊹ his favorite video game is fallout.

⊹ although he has admitted to knowing the hoe down throwdown, he also knows the dance to that song in the goofy movie partly because of his little sisters, and partly because it's his favorite movie. he's not super graceful, but does he give it his all...  

⊹ asher travels light when he moves, abandoning all thrifted possessions to donation bins, but the one thing he does hold onto forever are photos he has with anyone important..

⊹ asher has a stick and poke tattoo of a sun on the inside of his middle finger that matches gillian's.

⊹ he has had to wear an ankle monitor before, after sentenced to house arrest and a curfew when he was about sixteen to seventeen years old. he'd been caught breaking and entering, and charged with attempted burglary.

⊹ asher understands spanish better than his speaks it. his father did a piss poor job teaching him anything beyond expletives, otherwise the rest had been picked up over the scarce visitations with his grandparents.

⊹ asher has an ill-mannered pit mix puppy he found on the streets. she's friendly as anything, but she jumps and isn't trained. he named her sedona (gillian's influence) and calls her his 'dona girl.

⊹ his current new hobby is trying to learn how to play a ukelele.

⊹ asher has a rule that anyone who enters his home writes their name on a sticky note and sticks it to a smiley face on this poster.

⊹ does not know gold trans am but ke$ha is a song about sex. genuinely thinks it’s about riding passenger in a trans am.

CONNECTIONS.

Asher is a rather amicable person. He is friendly and tries to be kind to most people, but his brotherly tendencies to tease and give people a hard time does come out from time to time. It’s all in good fun even if it might rub people the wrong way. He does mean well despite that. The fact he’d grown up a little too fast for his liking has him catching up on lost time, per se, so he easily shirks his responsibilities in favor of fun. Impulsivity is a weakness of his as he fervently chases that dopamine rush.

He also has a tendency to fall through on communication on his end of the conversation, be it because he forgot after the notification was gone from his text messages, or simply because he’s misplaced his phone. Expect a lack of consistency, but when he is around, a good time.

He does have an end game connection, and hook-up plots are off the table.

♡ @ulyflynn - his first real friend in aurora bay, his ride or die. asher will do do near anything uly asks, and he isn't afraid to smother him with his presence. he doesn't want to imagine his future with his boy by his side. he feels safest around him, and would go so far to say that he'd been meant to wander into aurora bay to cross paths.

♡ @thegillyxliang - blast from the past, an old more-than-friends, deeper than friends-with-benefits relationship. after recent events, they official have a label for the first time.

♡ @helenasoarcs - party partner, asher has no qualms about holding her hands and bringing to any and all of aurora bay's beach keggers and house parties. she is great fun to be around, and he loves when she pops into the shop to distract him from work.

♡ @firefighterrojas - angel could have saved himself from the clingy energy that is asher if he hadn't offered him a helping hand when moving his things into his place next door. now there won't be a single thing he can do to escape, and ash will do well to drag him to the beach and all about if given the chance.

♡ @wesxevans - once online friends that gotten close, a series of hook-ups during the last visit ash took to salem, ma left ash panicked. so, he ran, feelings being too hard of a thing, just as the admission that he reacted to the ego boost and using a best friend for such a thing... well, ash ghosted.

♡ @cricketcampbell - ash knows cricket through gillian, and he thinks she's great fun. MORE TBA.

♡ @dilcne - a neighbor from across the street, ash has a bad habit of letting sedona loose. it's not purposeful, but it does cause for chaos when she decides to chase lorna's cats, or she gets into lorna's flowerbeds. he does replant what he can, until his lack of green thumb proves to be more harm than good, and he is apologetic. it doesn't do anything to lessen the headache of an unruly, bad mannered dog, though.

♡ @atticus-cortes - paths crossed one in the apartments, and then again later at the surf shop, it's as if the universe had meant for these two to become friends. Surf and skate buddies, ash took to atticus quickly. he loves sharing his space with him when the opportunity arises, and he's even set up a second hammock in his living room for him. it might be at the risk of his security deposit, but hey, the homie's got to be comfortable.

♡ @leomlarson - it's written in the stars that at most, if not all, house parties will end with ash and leo crossing one another's path. much to his excitement, of course, as ash finds leo to be a very comforting and easy presence to be around. he never fears judgment around him, always finds a reason to laugh, and can feel like he is a little bit at home in the shroud of smoke that oftentimes surrounds them.

♡ @thevaleriaxortiz - where val is technically asher's older sister, she'd always been his mother figure and confidant. it was a tough decision to leave her behind in arizona, but he knew had he not, he wouldn't have ever made it out. now that she is in aurora bay, he hopes to continue their relationship where it left off, and to share his life there with her.

♡ @masoncambridge - friends after ash tried to steal from the smoke shop. thank you for your mercy, mason.

LINKS.

⊹ pinterest.

⊹ inspo.

⊹ soundtrack.

⊹ personal playlist.

[chromalogue]

I finally did get paid, two days before I hopped on a plane home for the holidays, my mom having covered the ticket. 

The trip took 55 hours.  I’d booked a hotel in Frankfurt to be at the airport early enough, but then the people at the main train station directed me to the wrong train for the airport, and it was a high-speed train, so even getting off at the next stop and going back made me a couple of hours later than I should have been, and I lost my hotel reservation and had to crash on the airport floor.  Then in Montreal I went to scan my passport and realized it wasn’t with me.  I’d dropped it on the plane, and fortunately the flight crew turned it in at the international lost and found, so I managed to run to my gate and all was well.  And then they ovefuelled the plane and we had to change planes and gates anyway.  And then a midnight bus trip to Sudbury, via North Bay, that I simply could not stay awake for, and a twelve-hour wait in Sudbury for a ride to Espanola because the bus here doesn’t run on Saturdays.  And then like a week to recover.

My dad found out the week before I came back that he was getting his cancer surgery on December 21, so I had exactly two days with my parents before they drove down to Toronto, and they’ve been there ever since.  Dad’s very tired of the hospital at this point, but he popped a stitch today so they’re not letting him go yet.  My mom’s getting worried that they’ll be down there until I have to head back to Germany, but she says they’ll visit in the spring. 

So Will and I have been celebrating here at the apartment.  No cookies, no fancy baking, no skiing (I could, the skis are in my parents’ garage and I have the key, but my cell phone doesn’t make calls in Canada, and given my wanton klutzery it doesn’t feel wise to put myself in a situation where my parents are gone and I can’t call for help), but we did decorate the tree, and I’ve been spending my two months of accumulated salary on a) ingredients for the festive meals we planned, b) delicacies I haven’t been able to afford since 2012, c) snacks I couldn’t get in Germany, and d) stuff that got marked down after Christmas. Those last two months in Germany were kind of lean, so I have not been exercising any restraint at all, and it’s been marvellous.

We’ve also been watching Netflix stuff that I’ve missed.  I told myself I was going to get Netflix of my own when I got paid, but, well...

I find myself looking a bit forward to the work I’m going to do when I get back, which is a good sign.  (I did miss one of the deadlines I set for myself. I was writing an application for a research centre that processes applications twice yearly, and trying to do this 1500-word writing thing, and then I got a text that Dad was in the ICU and realized applications weren’t where I wanted to focus my energy.  I can try again in six months, and I hope the folks I’m accountable to understand.)  And now that I know I can turn the heat on, things will be much more comfortable.  Moreover, now that I’m paid there are a dozen other promises I made to myself that I can keep now.  A bus pass.  Bandcamp.  Books.  A pilgrimage to see the Magdeburg Unicorn. 

But I am emphatically not ready to go back yet.  It’s been a weird Christmas, my first one I’ve spent without my folks, and when they do get home it’s going to be really hard to leave them.  I’m also not looking forward to the marathon trip back.  I enjoy travelling, but that was a bit much.  But I’m here now, and everything feels wonderfully ordinary in a way I would have given anything for in November.  So I’m doing my best to just enjoy myself and goof off and not worry.  

[malfiora]

[The Amazing Gilbert Beilschmidt]

Part of the adoption clinic

Version 1:

He stood before the car, absently pushing his glasses further up his nose, and stared up at his new house. It cast a long shadow over the dying lawn. The shutters of the bottom windows thumped lazily against the house in the occasional frigid gale, but the second floor and attic windows were boarded shut. The faded blue paint chipped and peeled carelessly on the porch, encouraged every now and then to acquaint the dead leaves in the yard.

Despite the decrepit state of the house, Matthew really couldn't bring himself to loathe it completely, for there were still the oddities that made a house a home. He noticed the windchime hanging next to the adorable porch lantern that seemed to tinkle and flicker in unison. He saw the drooping plastic basketball net in the accompanying driveway. He caught glimpse of a half-buried garden hose that was still attached to the water spout just underneath the wood panels. This house was beautiful once. A family lived in and loved it.

He blinked himself out of his reverie. Wiping his nose on the back of his mitten, he looked down to the bear hanging limply by his side. Two floors, an attic, five bedrooms, two and half bathrooms. That's what the lady said during the tour. It sounded too big for the four of them — oh, right, it was only TWO now.

Nostalgia came unbidden to the boy's mind, and he could hear Alfred beside him yelling "Tag! You're it!" before racing off for the front door. Complaining all the while about an unfair headstart, Matthew would laugh and chase him in circles, behind trees, through leaf piles until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

Matthew huffed, reeling the memories and attached pain back into the void. He tried to think on the bright side: no Alfred meant no sharing toys or staying up late because Alfred had scared himself AGAIN or watching reruns of "Superman" or being mistaken for him or getting lost in his shadow. It was just two of them now, and Matthew would get all of the attention for once.

He heard the car trunk slam close behind him and turned to face the driveway. Matthew watched as his uncle struggled with their few suitcases while approaching the house. The blond man gave him a small smile in passing, silently inviting Matthew to follow behind.

[...]

---

Matthew looked boredly out of the smudged and grimy school bus window, waiting for that telling break in the trees lining the sidewalk indicating his stop. It was rather nice to let his mind fall into a hum, muffling the shouts and laughs of his boisterous peers while keeping the forbidden memories of his former life at bay.

The bus's stop jolted Matthew back to reality. Mechanically, he swooped his bookbag to one shoulder and hopped down the stairs, hardly paying the other students or the driver any mind. He distantly heard the bus roll away as he walked the cobblestone path to his house. And then something flashed in the corner of his eye. Whipping his head up, Matthew stopped and peered through the trees dividing theirs and the neighbor's yards.

At first, he noticed nothing besides the leafy rustling and birdsong. Then he saw it: apples from an otherwise barren tree. No, not falling -- being tossed.

Without hesitating, Matthew took his makeshift path through the line of trees and entered the neighbor's backyard in time to see another apple fall. He followed its path back to the source and caught a hand retracting from the window of a treehouse. Matthew arched an eyebrow: how had he missed that last time? Then again, it was dark....

"H-hello?" he called out tentatively as he approached the tree. Then, again with confidence: "Hello!" He waited -- who knew for what -- but was met with silence. Matthew huffed. "I just saw you, y'know."

There was a whisper of movement in response, and he began to wonder if he were just talking to an early-rising racoon or something. He began to slump his shoulders and turn away when he saw someone -- a boy -- poke his head out of the window.

"No use hiding, then," he said with a grin. He propped his head up on his right hand. "Who're you?"

"Matthew," the blond replied. "I live next door."

The other boy perked up, lifting his head from its resting position to squint his eyes at the grove as though to confirm that there were, indeed, a house -- Matthew's house -- on the other side. "Huh," he said, "whaddya know?" He looked back down. "Join me, will you?" he said through a smirk. He lazily extended his free hand in a beckoning gesture.

Again, Matthew wasted no time considering. With a slight nod, he searched for the wooden ladder attached to the other side of the tree and climbed it, shoving down the reflexive nausea.

When he got to the top, he saw that the boy was sitting on a three-legged stool facing him and against the window. There wasn't enough room in the tree house to stand, so Matthew knelt at the top of the ladder and crawled forward until he was at the other boy's knees. From the proximity, Matthew had time to take in his features. He had pale skin and slender fingers that tapped impatiently on his knee. His crimson eyes shone gleefully under white hair as he smiled down at Matthew. The boy shivered.

"Y-you never told me your name," Matthew all but whispered, not knowing what else to say.

----------------------

Version 2:

The house was large for six people. It was TOO large for four. It was a MONSTROSITY for two.

Matthew sighed and resigned himself to his lot. This too-big house with its too-wide lawn and humongous porch was home now. And despite the overgrown grass and peeling paint and cracked wood and dangling shutters (and he swore he saw a few roof tiles missing), he and his uncle could have done a lot worse for themselves. He might as well at least give the inside a thorough look-see before deciding he hated it.

So, Matthew trudged up the stone path (which was surprisingly in tact) and into the veritable manor, backpack in tow. He peeked around the unlocked front door into the abyss. Okay, not an abyss, PER SE, but it WAS pretty dark. He could only vaguely make out the shapes of moving boxes lining the hallway leading to the foyer. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his curiosity battling his trepidation, before taking a tentative step into the house. The brief disturbance sent a flurry of dust from the leftover rug airborne, but Matthew ignored it in favor of seeing the rest of the house.

At the end of the hallway were two opposing archways and a third leading straight back into a kitchen. Having seen enough kitchens for his (short) lifetime, Matthew looked left, then right, wondering which room to enter first. The choice was shortly made for him by a slight commotion at the front door -- or rather, the cause behind it.

Matthew's head whipped around at the sound of something being dropped and instinctively made a motion forward to help. His ears perked when he heard his uncle mutter a soft expletive, but he said nothing.

"Need help?" he said gently. Rather than wait for a response, he stooped down to pick up the mannequin that the blond man beside him had dropped. Well, he TRIED to, at least. The mannequin proved too large -- but only slightly! -- for his childish frame, and he almost dropped it all over again.

Francis chuckled and grabbed the white figure before it fell to the ground again. "I've got this one," he said, and he indeed tucked the mannequin under his arm. With the other, he gestured towards the box that lay capsized on the ground. "Why don't you grab that one for me?"

Matthew nodded resolutely and bounced over to the box. He set it upright before lifting (remembering to use his knees, just like his father had taught him) and followed Francis inside. They walked into the same room Matthew had been about to enter earlier; this time, the darkness seemed much less foreboding, which Matthew attributed to the comfort of companionship. So, he didn't exactly mind when incessant flipping of the nearby switch didn't light up the room. If only he could have said the same for his uncle.

Francis flicked the switch three more times for good measure before running his free hand through his hair in frustration. "Mon dieu, they haven't even turned on the electricity," he grumbled. "

[scots-gallivanter]

EIGHTEEN

Auld Ayr, wham ne’er a town surpasses, For honest men and bonnie lasses

ROBERT BURNS, Tam o’ Shanter (1791)

BURNS IS UNDOUBTEDLY Scotland’s most electrifying literary figure, but it would be way beyond the scope of this undertaking to do justice to his links with Ayrshire. He was born in Alloway, which is now a suburb of Ayr. The house where he was born, and in which he lived till he was seven, is a place of wholesale pilgrimage, part of a well-trodden tourist trail.

On his travels, John Keats thought the approach to Ayr ‘extremely fine’, but he was disappointed with the old caretaker of Burns’s House in Alloway. He called him ‘a mahogany-faced old jackass’, who talked too much. (Letter to John Hamilton Reynolds, Maybole, July 11, 1818). In mid-summer, Alloway is invariably chock-a-block with coaches and buses, from which camera-wielding Burns lovers emerge. Many of them hail from Japan and other countries where the bard is revered. Many of those who immortalise him at boozy haggis-stabbing bashes here in Scotland would have wandered to the other side of the street to avoid him had they been contemporaries.

From his wanderings in 1634 Brereton described Ayr, the county town of Ayrshire, as ‘a dainty, pleasant-seated town, most inhabiting in which are merchants trading into and bred in France’, but a century later Defoe found: ‘It is now like an old beauty, and shows the ruins of a good face, but is still decaying every day; and from having been the fifth best town in Scotland, as the townsmen say, it is now the fifth worst; which is owing to the decay of its trade.’ (Tour through Great Britain, 1745).

After presiding over a murder trial Lord Cockburn spent one of the last days of his life enjoying the shore at Ayr. He stated: ‘The beautiful bay of Ayr could scarcely have been more beautiful. The advancing sea was insinuating its clear waters irresistibly, yet gently, into the innumerable little hollows and channels of the dry sand. It was quiet, apart from seabirds playing and a couple of pale boys paddling.’

There was no sound, except of an occasional hammer by a few lazy masons who were pretending to be repairing the point of the pier, the ring of whose implements only deepened the silence Cockburn enjoyed. He watched a couple of old anglers dozing off as their corks bobbed in the sea. It hadn’t rained for six weeks, so they caught nothing.

Cockburn, one of my favourite early travel writers, had found it all a refreshing contrast to ‘the heat and the crowd of that horrid court’. He took ill the following day and died four days later.

I find Ayr a tad tatty now, and public facilities leave a lot to be desired; the bus station has no toilets. To Stagecoach’s shame the toilets it purports to have on board certain vehicles are often closed.

I am sure a lot of people are doing a lot of work to improve the appearance of the town of ‘honest men and bonnie lassies’. Not so the Malaysian Ung Eng Huat, though, who bought Ayr’s Station Hotel in 2010, and closed it in 2013, leaving it to rot while he has swanned around the globe. Gallingly, Huat, who calls himself Sunny Ung, has regularly flaunted his wealth, luxury cars, designer clothes and expensive watches, on social media from several countries, as well as selfies with V.I.P.s such as the Formula One star Lewis Hamilton.

Officials have tried to contact Ung for years. He is yet another absentee owner, who has allowed Scotland’s built heritage to decay, and remains incommunicado, although vandals set fire to the prominent listed building in the centre of town in September 2023. The blaze closed Ayr Station in the run-up to Christmas. Meanwhile, the man who boasts of his philanthropy in the Far East has posted photos of himself in Switzerland, Madrid, Marcella, Rome, Venice, and the Greek islands.

South Ayrshire Council has published a feasibility study into a compulsory purchase order. Its chief executive Mike Newall, said the owner hadn’t acknowledged any correspondence, not even in 2013 when the council tried to serve the first dangerous buildings notice. The bottom line is that Ung has walked away from any responsibility to conserve a building of historical and cultural importance.

Ayrshire itself has an absorbing mixture of history and heritage, some exceptional beaches, plenty of indisputably beautiful landscapes, and a popular horse racing venue that hosts the Scottish Grand National. But Ayrshire, and Ayr itself, has faced great challenges. In 2022 a Scottish Government bulletin stated that its economy was lagging and diverging significantly from Scotland’s.

In the year to March 2020, Ayrshire had the second highest unemployment rate in Scotland and some of the highest deprivation levels (27% of children lived in poverty).

NINETEEN

Beinge of that countrie, of a place not farre from Are, cawled the Truyne, leinge harde upon the sea, so commodious as the lyke was not to be found upon the weste seas.

Report by THOMAS RANDOLPH to Marie of Guise on a possible landing place for French troops (1559)

TROON WAS NEVER invaded by French forces but, like many resorts in the Firth of Clyde, it was besieged by sea-bathers, thanks to the phenomenal popularity of hydrotherapy in the 19th century. Its development was aided first by the arrival of steamboats, and then by the establishment of the first passenger rail service in Scotland, from Kilmarnock to Troon, in 1812. Troon Golf Course was founded in 1878, and the town is renowned for its golfing heritage: the Open has been played there on several occasions.

Troon was in the vanguard of sea bathing in Scotland, which evolved from ‘taking the waters’ at a mineral well or spa. Troon and other resorts became tremendously popular and were painstakingly marketed when the steamers and then the railways made the coasts more accessible. I must rewind, though, to some early 18th-century quackery and to Sir John Floyer’s History of Cold Bathing (1702). According to Floyer, Scots women bathed their children in cold water in the winter: ‘....by these instances it appears that the Northern People have found cold baths very useful to their bodies.

‘I remember that a lady of very great quality of Scotland, and nearly related to His Grace, Duke Hamilton, told me about four or five years since that several of her sons, though born strong, lusty children, yet pined, dwindled, and fell into convulsions …… that a Highland Woman advised her either to wash or bathe them in cold water ….and accordingly the Lady did so and ever after her children thrived, and did well, and are now lusty strong young men.’

Then there was the redoubtable Dr Richard Russell, whom the French historian Jules Michelet hailed as ‘the inventor of the sea’. Russell wrote Glandular Diseases, or a Dissertation on the Use of Sea Water in the Infections of the Glands in 1750, and it became a best-seller. Brighton grew on the back of it, and owing to Russell’s ambitious philosophy on the connection between health improvement and seawater (bathing in it and even drinking it). Many doctors were sold on the new craze.

Michelet reported in The Sea (1864), with a hint of eugenics: ‘This whole grand theory may be summed up in a very few words: It is necessary to drink sea-water, to bathe in sea-water, and to eat sea-weed; clothe your children as lightly as possible, and let them have plenty of air. The Ocean breeze, and the Ocean water; there you have the sure cure.

‘That last advice seems very bold. To have the half-naked child exposed to the open air in a damp and variable climate, is, no doubt, anticipatively, to lose the weak; but the strong will survive, and their posterity will be the better brought up.’

Sea-bathing grew in popularity in Scotland. Robert Heron visited Edinburgh in 1793 and noted that in high summer it was empty of people of ‘gaiety, of study or of business’, who had betaken themselves to some ‘fashionable watering place’. By the next century saltwater therapy had evolved into swimming and – for the ‘lower orders’ as well as the Victorian gentry and wannabe gentry – sea air blew away the angst of the daily grind. The Kilmarnock nobility built or bought summer houses in Troon. From 1839 the second railway line enabled visitors from Glasgow and Paisley to reach Troon by rail.

Before the launch of Henry Bell’s Comet, the Clyde’s first ever steamboat, in 1812, only the wealthiest of Glaswegians could enjoy going ‘doon the watter’. By the beginning of the 20th century city folk were going on day trips.

We bus it up the A78 towards Largs, passing the turn off to Portencross, where a pier was built during the heyday of tourism but was never well customised, although in ancient times the deceased monarchs of Scotland were brought to Portencross before being conveyed to the holy island of Iona for burial. Their bodies lay in state at Portencross Castle, an earlier castle than the 14th-century fortress which stands there today.

The Social Marketing Foundation think tank revealed in 2017 that seaside communities had some of the worst levels of economic and social deprivation in the UK. North Ayrshire was one of 10 local authorities in Britain with the highest unemployment – 10.8 per cent, compared with the UK average of 4.8 per cent. To cap it all, in 2023, North Ayrshire had 12% of all vacant and derelict land in Scotland, one of the highest proportions of any Scottish local authority. Gone were the days of thriving lidos, sedate pavilions, packed dance halls, and esplanades devoid of walking room.

In an article on the deteriorating fortunes of Saltcoats, written by Annie Brown in the Daily Record in 2017, the Saltcoats-born author Janice Galloway was quoted: ‘There was a sense of adventure that was there, which is fairly absent from young people’s lives now.

People looked active and engaged with their lives and the town. Recently I went on a visit and could have wept.’

Annie Brown concluded: ‘We sneer at how old-fashioned and obsolete seaside towns seem now. But they were the beauty of their day and if only the tide would turn – if only people were prioritised over profit – they could be once more.