#in april that death made me wanna connect

[theplantqueer]

learning that sometimes a death makes u wanna treat everything with tenderness

[sundrop-writes]

Announcing my new fic: Heaven's Gate

Heaven's Gate is a long oneshot starring Daryl Dixon and a gender neutral reader character, featuring angst, hurt and comfort, and some fluff.

NOW POSTED!!!!!

In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the prison is attacked by the Governor, and though you both believe the other person is dead, you two end up finding each other at the most unexpected time. This fic is about hope, the human connection, and how love is about more than romance - it's about how people take pieces of each other and grow with them, never truly able to forget each other.

This fic is going to be a longer oneshot that is currently about 15k long - and will likely be longer by the time it has gone through editing. It is 80% of the way done in my drafts (not including editing), and I hope to have it posted by April 30th - which is a tentative date that may change. If you want to know for certain when the fic is posted, you can follow me here and turn on notifcations or you can subscribe to me on AO3 to get an email notification when the fic is posted. I am really excited to share this fic with all of you 💖.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you wanna get a better sense for the upcoming fic you can read it. If you enjoy this preview and you're excited for what the fic holds, please let me know!

Also an important note: with my gender neutral reader fics, I don't use any references to gender whatsoever (this is not a 'GN afab' fic). And in this fic in particular, I didn't use any pronouns (other than you/yours) or gendered terms for the reader - and at points where the terms they/them were used, I made it purposefully vague so that the dialogue could be referring to the whole group as 'they' or just the reader. I want my gender neutral fics to be enjoyed by everyone - cis women, cis men, gender non conforming people, trans people - every kind of fanfiction reader.

I am making this post for two major reasons - one, I want to generate as much excitement for oneshots as there is for series. Especially for oneshots that are longer than 10k because those take a lot of time and effort. If a series is like a TV show, then long oneshots are like a feature film. And two - nobody seems to read my pinned post where I announce new upcoming fics anyway, so I might as well make posts like these so that people can know what to expect from me. And hopefully you guys will get excited about my upcoming fics this way. And when I tag these posts with the relevant tags, people interested in those topics can follow me to anticipate the fic if they want to read it.

Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader) - Preview

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: no pronouns used for the reader other than you/yours; there are major plot spoilers for The Walking Dead if you are watching the show for the first time - spoilers for Season 2 all the way up through Season 5; typical warnings for TWD - mentions of death, emotional despair; all of these themes and emotions are expanded upon in the full fic.

...

“Daryl!” 

You called out his name as you jogged up toward the stables, and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to catch up with him. 

“Daryl, hey.” You greeted him with a small smile. “Rick told me you’d be up here.” 

He grunted in reply. “Yeah. ‘m gonna take a horse out. Make better ground t’ look for the girl.” 

Your stomach clenched at him mentioning her. 

The group was supposed to be headed out towards Fort Bennet - supposed to be finding refuge at the hopefully safe military base. Instead, you were all setting up camp at the very reluctant Hershel Greene’s farm, not straying too far from where you had lost one of your own in the hopes of finding her. 

But that was why you had come to talk to Daryl in the first place. 

Sophia had become like a sister to you in the few short months that you had known her, and though it was unlikely, you were hopeful that she was alive - that she would be found. And you did believe that Daryl would be the one to find her. 

“How’s the trail?” You asked. “Do you think you know which way she headed? You - you can be honest with me.” 

You hesitated on the last part. But you did want his honesty more than anything. And you knew that he was never one to sugar-coat things. Even if you hadn’t told him that, he would have given you the truth anyway. 

“Trail’s a little muddy.” He said, doling out that honesty. “‘m gon follow the river. It’s her biggest landmark out there, so she’ll probably be somewhere around it.” 

You smiled at him. And then, you remembered - 

“I brought you something.” You noted, reaching for the back pocket of your jeans. 

Daryl watched with quiet curiosity as you pulled out a piece of paper - when you showed it to him, he quickly realized that it was a half-used set of stickers. 

“These are some of the stickers that I got for Sophia,” You explained. “My mom always used to tell me that cardinals are good luck.” 

You peeled off a sticker of a bright red bird - as much of a nature man as he was, Daryl was never one for bird watching. He didn’t care about identifying certain species of birds unless he could shoot and eat them. But he quickly reasoned that this must be the cardinal that you spoke of. 

“Give me your bow.” You said, shoving the rest of the sticker sheet into your back pocket again and holding out your hand expectantly. 

“I don’t need no luck.” He replied, voice full of snark. 

“Just give it.” You replied - equally snarky, equally stubborn. 

Daryl sighed and tugged his bow’s strap over his head, presenting it to you. You placed the sticker on the bow’s handle, in one of the places where it wasn’t as worn down from him holding it. 

“There,” You said, giving it back to him with a smile. “Now you’re all set.” 

It was more for you than it was for him - a token of good faith and protection. The idea that you could do something to bring Sophia home when you felt so powerless. 

Daryl let out a harsh sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sarcastic snort as he walked away. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” You replied brightly, edging on sarcastic once again. 

… 

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth. 

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done. 

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’. 

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt. 

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning? 

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently. 

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism. 

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you. 

“Here.” He grunted at her. 

Beth smiled at him. 

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time. 

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there. 

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind. 

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it. 

For good luck. 

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead. 

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it. 

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him. 

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her. 

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed. 

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer. 

He didn’t give her one. 

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.” 

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.” 

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject. 

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again. 

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories. 

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

… 

“Can I see it again?” Beth asked, suddenly changing the subject. 

Again, this was a confusing little whip for Daryl - something that clearly only made sense to Beth in her own drunken mind. 

“See what?” Daryl replied. 

“The picture.” Beth answered. “The one you tried to burn.” 

Daryl felt a pinch of guilt surge over him at the thought. Oddly enough, this was the one time he would be willing to admit that Beth was right - you can’t burn up memories. 

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it? That drew it.” Beth added on, her words slurring slightly - she lifted the mason jar of booze to her lips again and Daryl was tempted to snatch it away from her. 

Instead, he found his hand drifting to his breast pocket and reaching to take the picture out. He presented it to Beth, who put down her drink to unfold it - she stared at the picture fondly under the brightness of the moonlight, tracing a finger over the slightly faded details. 

“You know… my daddy used to tell me that a cardinal is like an angel.” Beth said, recognizing the bird from her father’s teachings on the farm. “Someone - someone you loved who passed away, watching over you from heaven.” 

“Y/N said they was good luck.” Daryl replied. 

Beth shrugged. “Same thing.” 

It was this thought that kept Daryl going for a long time. The idea that even if you were dead, you were watching over him somehow. He sure as hell didn’t believe that someone like Merle would be an angel - but you, you definitely were. And even if it was a waste of your eternal life, you would be determined to watch over Daryl - to make sure that he was safe, well-guided. 

You would make sure that he was lucky. 

That thought alone carried him through the long journey to D.C. 

It was something that lingered in his mind as the group hunkered down in a random barn - as he spotted something carved into one of the wooden beams holding the place up. Even though it wasn’t colored, he could have sworn that the long tail and pointed head of the silhouette indicated that the carving was meant to be cardinal. Of course. 

Who knows who had stayed in the barn before them - if it had been left there by a weary traveler, or even put there by someone who had used the barn before the turn. But Daryl could have sworn that you - your ghost, your angelic hand - had led him to this very spot. 

It was a thought that gave him strength as he held the doors up - helped to keep them from caving in while the storm raged outside. 

Your luck, and your damn bird - you would keep him safe. 

When they reached Alexandria, and they were forced to give up their weapons - Daryl spotted your bird perched on the fence. Bright red, with its pointy head cocked sideways at him. All too knowing, staring at him like it wanted to say something. Just like it had been when he had fallen off the cliff out in the woods when he had been looking for Sophia. 

Oddly enough, it made him feel safe giving up his crossbow - perching it on top of the fully loaded cart of weapons before the awkward, bespeckled woman wheeled it away. 

Rick was still weary of this new place after Terminus, and Daryl understood. He followed Rick’s lead. Especially because he couldn’t tell Rick that he had a good feeling about this place because he saw a damn bird. 

But even if it was just in spirit, he felt you there. He knew that it was the home you had chosen for them.

[narciesuss]

Season Two

Episode One: You thought bitch 🤪

WARNING! FULL DISCLOSURE! A message for your sensitive ass! Don’t take my advice or anything I say seriously. This is all for shits and giggles. Why you trippin?

Press play 😏

I don't wanna be carrying the weight on my shoulders

Death has come to me, kissed me on my cheek, gave me closure

Immortal by design, I'll be meeting you here every time

Back from the dead

Sorry guys. I had to put some demons to sleep real quick. In the process I fell in love with a ghost, delusions, energy leeches, and a burden masked as a soul connection. Oh and I was trapped in the spiritual realm by this demon who was super into my wings, fucking weirdo.

Anyways!

The Universe has blessed me with isolation. My circle is small and cozy now.

I’m not gonna lie, the way most of my past connections ended left me heartbroken and sometimes literally beaten 💔

I don’t wish any harm on y’all, but you made the decision to burn that bridge. You made your bed now sleep in it, slobber in it! It’s so funny how y’all keep coming back and I still don’t hear a sincere apology.

Please stay away with your negative vibes ✋ get help.

But if you really want to be lurking and keep up with me then…

Welcome to The Motherfucking Kassie Show 💜

Here you’ll find me glowing the fuck up! And dissing you because this is my blog and I’ll write whatever the fuck I want.

But yeah you can always find me here 🤗 not in your DMs, not watching your story, not asking about your dumbass, and certainly not at your front door. YOU will find ME here ✨ because that’s all the access you have.

I can’t make everyone happy ✨

I’m just one of me 🖤 I can’t split myself into twos, threes, fours…

You don’t own me. I belong to myself and myself only.

If there is something I want you to take from all of this it’s self-love.

✨🌕��✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Wednesday April 5th 2023 at 11:34 pm we had a Pink Libra Full Moon super charged with the essence of death and endings. I hope you all used this time wisely by cleansing and releasing what no longer serves you.

I sacrificed my every day journal/scrapbook/book of shadows and threw it into my Full Moon fire. I thought, I don’t longer think the same so I shouldn’t hold onto it. Shrug. Rough draft.

🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰💛🐰

Happy Easter my bunnies 💕

Repeat after me

I herby decree that my aura and chakras be cleaned and made pure

I herby decree that my soul and essence be cleaned and pure

I herby decree that my energy and power belong to only me

I call back my energy

I call back my power

I call back all that belongs to me. Anything that is no longer serving my best and higher purpose, I call back to me right now.

I demand peace for my soul

Repeat that shit every morning and every night before your pretty little eyes close for the day 💋

And!

I hope you’re setting those boundaries and walking in your true power. Claim it all because you’re going to need every drop where we’re going 🙃

👸🏻🤍

End Credits:

I wanna thank my coworkers for encouraging me to keep the series alive.

I wanna thank my cute dealer for being there through the ups and downs. You’re a real one 💚

I wanna thank my cat for doing the vibration thing that triggers the happy cells in my brain 🤓😺

I wanna thank the Universe for this glow baaaybeeeeee 😈

☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀

Next time on The Kassie Show!:

I interview your mom 😮‍💨

Jk

We’re talking about Angel numbers and spiritual downloads and your mom 🫶

Episode Two is up Monday April 10th

[raviposting]

February Stats Books Read: 16 Average Rating: 3.44 Top Genre: Mystery & Thriller My storygraph if you wanna follow me and see my reviews (though I’ll link them for each book in the ratings) :) Currently Reading: Perfect Ruin by Claudia Tan, The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman, and The Trials of Kate Hope by Wick Downing.

Standouts: So standouts for me don’t have to be positive, or even my highest ratings - they’re books that just Stood Out to me one way or the other, are in my memory, etc. so here we go lmao 

Behind Closed Doors by B.A. Paris: 2.5/5 Like I said not every standout can be great and alskj;faksdf;j this is one of them. What really got me the most was how much these characters didn’t speak like real people. There was no depth, no real characterization, and the writing felt stilted and overly formal at times. But it left an impression I guess so yay for that?

Wrong Place, Wrong Time by Gillian McAllister: 4/5 This book fucked. It’s such an absolutely unique concept to me, not only just doing a Groundhog Day thing, but going back further and further in time until you can solve what’s happening with the murder. I found myself really invested in these characters, and I still think about them (granted it’s been like a month out, but generally doesn’t happen to me for thrillers). Everyone should read this book. And if you read it and don’t like it asdfjkl: my bad. 

All Other Books: 

The Ultimate Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams: 4/5. So the first book is definitely a standout to me, but the other books not so much. I think the first few books are really good and then it kind of meanders off, but I also read all these books after each other and it is SO possible I was just a bit tired of it lmao. 

And Put Away Childish Things by Adrian Tchaikovsky: 3/5. Releases March 28. 

You Can Trust Me by Wendy Heard: 4.5/5. Releases June 13.

Read to Death at the Lakeside Library by Holly Danvers: 3.5/5. Releases August 8. Don’t be dumb like me a;sdlkfja;sdl this thing is like the third book in the series or something

All I Want for Christmas by Nora Roberts: 2.75/5

The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood: 3.75/5. I’m not gonna lie guys. If I didn’t know this was a Reylo fanfic I would have been all over this book. It honestly is pretty good, save for a line or two that made me howl lmao

The Night She Vanished by Wendy Dranfield: 2/5. Releases March 14. 

The Neighbors We Want by Tim Lane: 2.75/5 Releases September 5. I’m going to be honest guys out of all the books in this list I probably couldn’t tell you a single fact in here that wasn’t part of the book blurb. I read it like 10 days ago and it’s already just wiped from my memory

 End Game by Liz Mistry: 4/5. Releases April 14. Despite being the fifth book in the series I was able to get most of it! I also really enjoyed the diverse cast (despite the cop setting, which, blegh) - the author is white but the representation in this book felt pretty natural and the characters were nifty; I’m probably going to check out the other four books lmao

Northern Lights by Philip Pullman: 4/5. I really gotta check out the HDM show lmao but this was a fun time! Lots of worldbuilding here but it was worth it.

The Good Patient by Alex Stone: 3.75/5. Releases March 22

Kill Joy by Holly Jackson: 3.5/5. I mean like. It’s fine lmao.  Like read it if you love this series but I think she could have easily written a better story about something else in the AGGGTM canon 

Moonlight Can Be Deadly by Charlotte Stuart: 3/5 Releases March 14, fourth book in the series. There’s some things in this book that strongly threw me off of reading any other book in the series but if you’re interested I’d say read the others first lmao

You Are Here: Connecting Flights by Ellen Oh (and a bunch of other authors whose names I can’t find): 4/5. Releases March 7 

[maximuswolf]

Forget one piece wonders. What's a "one masterpiece wonder" in your opinion?

Forget one piece wonders. What's a "one masterpiece wonder" in your opinion? Sorry for the incoming rant. I'm bored. This one probably won't resonate with everyone, but I'm an alcoholic. There's a TLDR at the end if you wanna skip the essay.For me it's "Hate Me" by Blue October. The song had quite a bit of radio play back in the mid 2000s, but I think it's masterfully written. The song is written in a way that connects with basically anyone who has simultaneously felt the pain and pleasure of both love for someone and drug/alcohol addiction. It's hard for me to listen to it without choking up.The first verse:"I have to block out thoughts of you so I don’t lose my headThey crawl in like a cockroach, leaving babies in my bedDropping little reels of tape to remind me that I’m alonePlaying movies in my head that make a porno feel like homeThere's a burning in my pride, a nervous bleeding in my brainAn ounce of peace is all I want for you; will you never call again?And will you never say that you loved me just to put it in my face?And will you never try to reach me?It is I that wanted space" This perfectly describes what it feels like to neglect and leave behind someone who you loved dearly, but couldn't muster up the strength to defeat that which pulled you away from them, no matter how hard they tried to keep you safe. You don't want to hear that someone loves you because you don't even love yourself, and your addiction is the only place you find comfort even if you don't want that to be the case. So instead, you ask at least that the person you love can leave you alone so they don't get dragged down with you."Hate me todayHate me tomorrowHate me for all the things I didn't do for youHate me in ways, yeah ways hard to swollowHate me so you can finally see what's good for you."Chorus speaks for itself. You hate yourself for what you did, so you beg the other person to hate you too, selfishly finding comfort in the fact that if they hate you, at least the hatred can numb their pain. And in that way, you'll both have something in common, ie. you hate the same person. Second verse:"I'm sober now for 3 whole monthsIt's one accomplishment that you helped me with.The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again.In my sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at nightWhile I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fightYou never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicidal hate.You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to takeSo I'll drive so fucking far away that I'll never cross your mindAnd do whatever it takes in your heart to leave me behind"Remembering the times your loved one was there for you after all is said and done. Too late to go back.The outro perfectly embodies the sense of vertigo of scattered thoughts, depression, regret, confusion, and wishing for death. The sound of (presumably) his mother's voice yelling in a happy voice "Hey Justin!" which slowly deepens in pitch and warps in tone is both disturbing and sad. Even the memories of the voices of who you love get drowned out by the pressure of the "deep" persay. Eventually, you're alone with nothing left.TL;DR"Hate Me" perfectly represents what it's like to be dragged down by addiction, simply not allowing yourself to be happy, and pushing away those who try to help you. Submitted April 30, 2024 at 05:02AM by SneakyThnaake https://ift.tt/ESBRXV6 via /r/Music

[hmel78]

In conversation with Long Distance Calling ...

Very occasionally I come across a record that really stops me in my tracks. “TRIPS”, from Munster based “post rockers” ‘LONG DISTANCE CALLING’ [released April 29th], did just that. Appropriately titled - “TRIPS” - the bands 5th studio album, takes you on a journey through a soundscape of rock, pop, metal, alternative, and ... Prog!   Along the way, the band themselves saw a change of line-up (the amicable departure of Martin Fischer, and the addition of Norwegian vocalist Petter Carlson), suffered the deaths of 5 grandparents, and experienced the birth of a child - so on a number of levels, this record pushed them out of their comfort zones ; but ... ... ... they’ve created something that is truly stunning. When presented with the opportunity to speak to Jan Hoffman (bass) and Florian Funtmann (guitar), I wasn’t going to refuse!

HR :  As a band,  ‘Long Distance Calling’ were once described as ‘living in their own bubble’ - before you entered the bubble, who  or what inspired you both to become musicians?

Jan Hoffman : Wow, that´s a tricky question J Well, I always had a very strong connection to music. Not as a musician in the first place, I started playing an instrument pretty late - about 17 I think - But I always had a strong emotional connection to music since I was a kid; it made me feel good or made me cry. I always felt a strong bond. I guess that´s what made me become a guy in a band, so I could create and share my own emotions through music. I guess my first love was Michael Jackson, haha. Later I started to dig Pink Floyd, Metallica, Tool etc. I don´t really care about style as long as it´s good and it´s able to set me on fire in some way.

Flo Funtmann : There are lots of different kinds of music which inspired me to become an artist and musician myself.  My first contact with music was Cat Stevens and Bob Marley, because my parents were listening to them and I really loved it. They were also listening to soul and 70s rock. When is was 9 I got my first record, as a present, which was AC/DC. From that day on I was totally in love with rock music. Soon after that I discovered Guns N Roses which was like an epiphany: “This is what I wanna do :-)”.  When I got older I started to listen to different kinds of rock music and began to step into the world of death metal while still listening to all the other stuff I liked before.  Nowadays I consider myself more as fan of good music in general than of a certain genre. Though I have to say my preference is still rock music.

HR : “TRIPS” is ‘Long Distance Calling’s 5th studio album, and it would actually seem that you burst the bubble, stepped outside of the box, pushed the envelope ...  Is it very different to your other albums? Was it as challenging to make, as it sounds? What did producer Vincent Sorg bring to the process?

FF : The whole process of writing, rehearsing and recording the album was very challenging but fun at the same time. For this record we knew we had to do something different than before. We knew we had to get out of our comfort zone and Vincent was the right guy to do the job.  He pushed us to try harder and to question every idea someone came up with. He pushed us to work harder on arrangements, grooves and melodies.  He also was like an observer sometimes because we had so many ideas for this album that we needed someone to separate good from bad and ok from awesome.

JH :  I don´t think it´s very different from the last album, ´cause we also had about half of the songs with vocals there and we had one vocal song on every album so far in the past. But I think it´s the most emotional and diverse album we have done so far. Like you said, we pushed the envelope and tried to leave our comfort zone, and we are really happy how it turned out.

HR : For anyone who might never have heard your music until now - what should they expect from listening to “TRIPS”? Is it true to say that they may never have heard anything quite like it before? If someone said “Oh you sound like ...” - Who would you feel most proud to be compared to?

JH : It´s hard to say from the band´s perspective but I really think we have created something unique. It´s a trip through different sounds and styles, all under the LDC umbrella. I could live with the term “Modern day Pink Floyd” probably.

FF : I always say we sound a bit like an modern and heavier version of ‘Pink Floyd’, who spent a day in the desert jamming with ‘Kyuss’ while listening to ‘the Cure’.   Actually it’s not easy to classify our music and especially “TRIPS” in one certain genre. Of course it is rock music. Maybe atmospheric rock. HR : What is your favourite track on the album? JH : Wow, that´s hard to say!  It changes from time to time (which is good I guess) but I reeeeally like “Rewind” and “Plans”. All in all, I´m really into all the songs on the album and I am proud of it.

FF : Yeah that’s a difficult question because at the moment I like all of them very much. I can say that I like “Getaway” a lot because it´s something we have never done before and I totally love 80s Action Movie soundtracks.  Beside that I really like “Plans” because it´s split in two different styles - The first half is very chilled and dark, while the second half is just simply stadium rock.

HR : Have you started to think about a 6th album? How far are you prepared to push the boundaries of your own creativity as a band? Do you think you have found a working formula that you are going to stick with for a while? Will you return to just instrumentals,  or will Petter Carlson remain as vocalist? 

JH :We are not really thinking about it yet J. We want to enjoy the new stuff now for a while and we never plan in advance, we just go with the flow. And we try to avoid formulas!  Regarding Petter: definitely maybe J

FF : That’s true - for us every album stands alone.  There is this whole cycle with writing, recording, waiting for the release and touring for every album. After this is finished we start to think about our next album. I know that on our next album there will again be something different from the previous ones because we like to experiment and try new things. Like you said to push the boundaries of our own creativity. You never know what will happen. And I love to do it like this!

HR : You’re heading out on tour soon. In the past you have toured with some big names, and played at some huge festivals - what has been the LIVE highlights of your careers so far?

JH : Yes, we can´t wait to finally hit the road again soon! We were really lucky with tour supports in the past, that´s right. There are many highlights but for me personally maybe the show at Rock am Ring and the shows with ‘Deftones’ and ‘Dredg’.

FF : There were lots of great things to remember. For me as a music fan it´s always nice to play shows with your idols and to find out that they are really nice guys. When we toured in Russia that was very nice and special as well, because I just thought: “holy shit – I am the guitar player in a band - like 50% of the people I know are as well and I get the chance to play in Moscow and St. Petersburg and there are actually people coming to see me/us perform on stage!” In general I love to travel the world and see places that I might had never seen without being in the band.  I´m very thankful that I have the chance to do what I do, and people are interested in what I do.

HR : There’s a recurrent theme throughout “TRIPS”, and that’s time travel. There’s a great lyric in the song  ‘Presence’ that says : “We all have our time machines don’t we? Those that take us back are memories, and those that carry us forward are dreams”.If time travel was ever invented, and you had the opportunity to explore -  where would you go first? JH : That’s  very good, tricky, and dangerous question! I think it´s good that it´s not invented (yet?) because we are human, and humans tend to do stupid things. Maybe I only would go back to one day in my childhood just to see if this matches with my memories and to see my (now dead) grandma and grandpa in a good time of their lives.

FF :  I would go back to the late 70s to steal ‘Bostons’, “More Than A Feeling” and become rich as f@ck :-)

Jan Hoffman Flo Funtmann

Further musings with Jan ...............

LONG DISTANCE CALLING - BOUNDLESS

2018 is already looking like a great year for new music - starting with the forthcoming masterpiece from German post-rockers ‘Long Distance Calling’. “Boundless” once again finds the band as a 4 piece  - Florian Funtmann (guitar) , Jan Hoffman (bass), Janosch Rathmer (drums), and David Jordan ( lead guitar)  - and their return to producing a fully instrumental album. I will admit that it came as a surprise to me following the success of 2016’s “TRIPS”, which sits firmly in my Top 10 albums of all time, and incorporated, for me, a perfect balance of vocal and instrumental tracks. So, curious to know what prompted the decision to return to instrumentals, I caught up briefly with bassist Jan Hoffmann :-

JH : We just started writing last January without any plan behind it, but realised pretty quickly how easy and fun the writing process was with just the four of us in a room, like in the early days, so we decided to go on like this, and go a bit back to our beginnings as a band. As much as we like the last two albums, they were pretty complicated to write - but we needed to leave our comfort zone back then.  Now we feel well, and comfortable, to be back to the core of the band and let the chemistry between us do the tricks.

HR : For some people, it’s difficult to listen to instrumental albums because there’s often a need for lyrics that help to tell a story - what were you imagining when you were creating the songs?

JH : When we write songs (especially instrumental songs), we always want to create a soundtrack to a feeling and this topic was very important for the new album. It should be the soundtrack to the life and to a journey into the unknown, that´s why the album is called “Boundless”.

HR :  You know, they are soundtracks to feelings. I was drawn in from the first listen, and I think you capture emotion in a number of ways - which is almost impossible to try to explain to anyone who hasn’t yet heard the album, so we should let listeners know what to expect ... In three words Jan, can you describe the album? JH : Wow, that´s difficult haha but ok: DARK,  INTENSE,  BEAUTIFUL

And I agree entirely! I feel that the band have every right to be proud of what they have created with “Boundless”  -  it really is nothing short of phenomenal. It’s very thoughtfully composed and a compelling listen, from start to finish. If you’re particularly into soundscapes and soundtracks, then you MUST check it out - equally, if you’re a fan of prog, hard edged melodic rock, with maybe some electro thrown in, or if you just simply love the sound of soaring guitars, then I’m sure you will hugely appreciate this record too.

Judge for yourself on February 2nd 2018, when “Boundless” is released through InsideOut music. More info at www.longdistancecalling.de In the meantime, here’s their official video for “Out There”

[wormstacheangel]

What are the best episodes with Castiel to watch?

Hello! Sorry, this took me a while to answer but here you go! If I miss some it’s cause I don’t remember anything or I was just Bleh about it.

Castiel Epiosdes

4x01 ICONIC 

4x16 ICONIC

4x20 Jimmy is important to Cas and I love him. 

4x22 ICONIC Greenroom. Cas picks a side aka Dean.

5x03 Cas and Dean being friends! Gay panic is real my friends. 

5x04 THE END. “It's the end, baby. “

5x13 “Sam is my friend.” 

5x14 Cupid (He made a cameo video it was cute) and Cas eating raw meat off the floor.

5x16 “You son of a bitch! I believed in-” OWW

5x17 Drunk Cas.

5x18 At this point he’s just done with everything. So he just carves, YES CARVES, an angel banishing sigil into his own chest. He does not hesitate.

Season 6 is good for Cas because the whole time he’s apart of a civil war and is just a terrible liar.

6x06 I am trying not to make this list about Destiel but the scene where Cas pours Dean’s drink. 

6x10 Pizza Man.

6x19 Baby in a trenchcoat aka leader of the heaven rebellion but sure Dean. He’s just cute. 

6x20 ICONIC 

6x21& 22 Both show that Cas is slowly realizing that he is not in control. 

7x01 The whole episode is wild but Cas just going to heaven and saying I’m Daddy now really takes the cake. (not the actual words he used.)

7x02 Cas’s death #3?

7x17 MISHA -- OH um, I mean CAS to the rescue lol

7x21 His cute little laugh! Honey!Cas has my heart and soul. Bonus Destiel: “ When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!” RIP Hester Queen

7x23 “Cursed or not.” Also his little smile when he asks for the plan ahh!

aka all episodes in s7 with Cas in it is worth watching.

Okay, I’ll try to control myself now but watch all of s8 cause its beautiful.

8x02 We see Dean’s POV to the purgatory portal scene. Also, hear Cas’s reason for leaving Dean.

8x07 We see Cas’s POV of the purgatory pov scene. Also, learn how Cas escapes purgatory. 

8x08 “I’m gonna be a hunter.” He’s so CUTE!

8x10 Cas needs a hug. Please.

8x17 ICONIC. “what broke the connection?” AHH

8x21 Badass Castiel

8x22 & 23 Castiel wants to do good. He wants to help but he just puts his trust in the wrong people. It hurts me so much. Look he’s just a small child and he is dealing with a lot right now. 

Season 9 Cas looks good. Like fanservice time father of two!

9x01 First look at human Cas!

9x03 I can’t watch this ending again. It’ll make me spiral. But it’s a good human Cas and destiel episode. Also, fuck April. She gross. 

9x06 ICONIC BLESSED jilted lover. 

9x09 He looks good.

9x10 “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb. Less ass.” They are both dumbasses.

9x11 Sam & Cas chaotic vibes

9x14 Cas storyline with the angels starts or at least makes it more clear idk

9x18 Gabriel! Also, “Damn it, Dean!” and Cas accepts his role as a leader. The angels are dumb. 

9x22 Sam & Cas dream team lol Also, Cas picks Dean over heaven again.

9x23  “--and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too.”

10x01 Cas draped across the bed like a victorian lady waiting for her husband to come back from the war

10x03 You know that scene where he’s lying on the floor bloody and dying and the Crowley saves him. And then Cas glows and heals with grace and he’s glaring up at Crowley? You know that scene. Yeah. Bonus: I’m gay and bloody Hannah is also hot. Small tip: Ignore the creepy/gross Hannah and Cas set up the writers are trying to do. They are siblings. 

10x09 Claire! That’s his daughter!

10x10 Claire and Cas make me cry.

10x14 Deleted scene of “Maybe he’s your boyfriend.” 

10x17 Sam & Cas! They are best friends, you guys!

10x18 Charlie and Cas meet! AND THEY ARE ALL HAPPY AND I CRY

10x20 Claire! Cas get’s her a birthday present, grumpy cat stuffy, and she keeps it! And I cry. And she saves him. And she cares about him. 

okay 10x21 cause of Charlie and Cas but also fuck this episode. Charlie deserved better. 

10x22 ICONIC gosh damn it. I-

10x23 Just for backstory for Cas in s11. Our poor boy can't catch a break. 

I worked on this for two hours now Nonny and I don’t even care. I miss Cas.

Season 11 hurts my damn soul because of Cas. I won’t include Casifer, though it was A LOT of fun to watch him.

11x01 “Dean, did it work?” I wanna hold this poor sad madly in love man. 

11x02 I can’t handle the torture. He looks so sad.

11x03 Bless you director, Jensen Ross Ackles.

11x04 Okay, not a lot of Cas but I love this episode. 

11x06 They don’t talk about his trauma but they show us a little when he tries to leave the bunker. And I cried. Once again. Let. Me. Hold. Him. 

11x10 Ambriel glad you are dead cause you were SO rude. Also, Amara girly, queen, I love you but apologize. Stop being mean to Castiel.

11x22 Cas get’s to talk and that’s nice

11x23 “I can go with you.” Sir, you just came back from being possessed by THEE satan and now you are ready to die by your future husband's side. You need therapy. 

Okay, I stopped watching live after season 11 because of the way they treated Cas so these next seasons I binged watched ( a couple of times) but wasn’t apart of the fandom so it feels like I didn’t fully grasp them. But here we go!

12x01 Cas meets his mother-in-law. Also the little, “Dean!” when he hugs him. 

12x02 Cas and Mick :)

12x03 Agent Beyonce and Zee lol Cas and Crowley and should have had a sitcom 

12x08 Cas gets a text (angel radio) that he’s gonna be a Dad and it looks like when Alice had a vision of the Volturi in Breaking Dawn Part 2 lol

12x09 Let me hug Cas! He’s sad over his family being gone. Also, Mary, I love you but I don’t forgive anybody for being mean to Cas. All the Winchesters are on thin fucking ice with me. 

12x10 ICONIC destiel. Cas in a female vessel. 

12x12 ICONIC “I love you. I love all of you.” 

12x19 Worried husband Dean. Excited soon-to-be father Cas.

12x23 Cas dies (again) from child birth.

Watch the first few episodes of season 13 for the famous widower arc cause wtf they gave us THAT. Also, I don’t care for the other world storyline so I pushed that out of my head. 

13x04 Cas annoying a cosmic entity. Fun fact! I dislike the trenchcoat cause it looked so stiff and the color was off idk didn’t look great but Cas looked beautiful when he looks up at the sun! Ah!

13x05 IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN

13x06 ICONIC BROKEBACKNATURAL Also, Jack and Cas meet and I cried damn it. “I missed you.” That’s his son!

13x07 Cas doesn’t put anybody or anything above his baby boy

13x12 Cas has the dumbest husband but at least Cas stabs lucifer. Bet Misha felt good

13x14 Badass Cas. He’s a top. lol 

13x16 ICONIC Cas looks...great. Like, watch it. I would do anything for cartoon!cas

13x19Just cause Cas faced someone who tortured him and it’s made to seem like he should get over it and it pisses me off. But Naomi is so cool so idk I like her but would fight her

13x22 Otherworld Cas is there and Cas just kills himself. He needs therapy. 

13x23 Cas’s face when Dean says yes. Also, family hunting trip yay

14x01 Dadstiel! Also, Cas looks good. 

14x03 Dadstiel.

14x07 Dadstiel. “Losing a son feels different.” And I cry. 

14x08 “because I love you Jack. And Sam and Dean--they love you.” THEY DO LOVE HIM AHHHH! Also, Empty deal is made as an excuse for the writers to do something with Cas later. 

I just realized season 14 is just Cas trying desperately to keep his family together. He’s trying to take care of them and he has the right words to say to everyone but not much happens besides him wanting to be a family man. 

14x14 gay on gay violence lol Also another family hunting trip! 

14x15 Fav episode! I just love Sam & Cas’s dumb chaotic energy in this ahaha! They are best friends damn it!

14x18 Cas is trying desperately to keep his family together and he feels responsible for Mary

14x19 Cas should have been allowed to kick Sam and Dean’s dumb flat asses for locking his baby boy in a box. 

14x20 AHHH

Divorce arc! All of s15 is great! Except you know...19&20 but we ignore that in this house. 

15x03 ICONIC but I will never watch it again

15x06 dude, they really be broken up. Cas kicks ass by himself and he’s fishing and he’s so cute. 

15x09 ICONIC Let him talk, Castiel!

15x11 Cas is THEE best Dad and let’s Jack eat hearts

15x13 Just for the family.

15x15 :(

15x17 Cas working to keep his baby boy

15x18 :( I mean at least he’s out but :(

Okay, this took me all day and I had fun! Nobody is gonna read it but who cares cause I just spent my day thinking of Cas when I had a pretty shit day so thanks, Nonnie! 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 02

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: you guys have been so extremely sweet with this new work i don’t even know how to thank you!! thank you so so much for supporting my writing, it always makes my day. i hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N was laying in her new room right stuck in between the guest and Gwen’s bedroom. It was a rather bleak room if she was being honest. The walls were all white in exception to one of them that like the entrance was covered in floor to ceiling windows. There was little to no furniture in exception for a king sized bed, a white chest of drawers and a wall embedded wardrobe where she had put most of her clothes already. 

She wondered why a man of such income would like to be surrounded by such bleak colours. From what she had noticed his whole place was decorated in shades of grey and black with the occasional beige and white. Sure, it looked lovely, sleek even, something worth of being in the cover of an architectural magazine, but it wasn’t a home. A home had warmth, lived in sheets, walls and floors, this house however was ... was ghosted, almost as if no one lived in it. 

Rolling onto the comfortable white sheets, she took the contract into her hands, looking at the lettering on the cover itself. Y/N fully understood why he wanted all his employees to have a binding legal document, what she didn’t expect was to see the first line constricted her breathing. “The individual agrees not to follow any legal action against the employer in any circumstance”, it read. This was definitely not what was she expecting. 

     - Y/N? - she shoved the contract under her sheets as Gwen’s voice sounded through the room, her head peaking through the opening of the door. - What are you up to?

    - Not much. How are you? Do you enjoy the new room? - Sebastian had put her in a different room from his, something she had expected but still found odd. They were to be married after all and despite it all being a business move and transaction, it was still a valid marriage. However, none of them seemed to eager to at least try and create some chemistry. 

    - Boring. I need a favour, though. Please and when you decide remember you’re my oldest and best friend since we were babies. - Y/N knew that face and she did not like it. It was the same face that got them both stranded in the Carribean because she just needed to get to know some guy from the opposite terminal before catching the plane. However, she also knew Gwen to be a great driving force of making her do things she didn’t exactly want to do, so she decided to nod her head yes, already overwhelmed with the move and the contract. - I need to head out for a few minutes, could you cover for me?

     - What ... where are you going? 

     - I have a date. - she cheekily entered the room, closing the door behind her after checking if someone was in the hall. The redhead sat in front of her, a childish grin on her face as if she were in high school going out with the captain of the football team. - And he’s really sweet.

     - Gwen, you’re engaged. - the big sapphire in her left hand’s third finger was all she could look at. Of course Y/N wanted to be happy for Gwen, she really did and she really shouldn’t put too much effort in the thought that she was going to get married, after all it was just a strategy, but her mind was screaming at her that it wasn’t right. - Don’t you wanna at least give it a go before you completely give up?

     - No, I wanna go out with Chuck. - she took her engagement ring off, placing it on Y/N’s white sheets. - Please cover for me, please.

     - What if Sebastian notices you’re gone?

    -  He won’t because you’ll cover for me, besides, he probably won’t even leave his office. Please, Y/N? - Y/N sighed. What was the use of saying no if she was gonna leave any other way? Besides, if she were right and Sebastian didn’t leave his office, it should be alright. Losing whatever piece of resolve she has in her, she let out a soft smile, nodding her head yes which led the redhead to hug her with a death like grip. - It’ll one be for a few hours. I owe you one.

     -  I’m pretty sure you’ve own me one since we were one. - Gwen let out a celebratory chuckle before grabbing her bag and leaving Y/N on her own once again. 

The whole house was constantly silent, almost as if all the employees were scared of making a sound which when it came to the demanding presence of their boss, she wondered if that was the case. The only disruption of silence that could be heard was the soft rain against the windows which was enough to lull her to sleep. She would’ve possibly remained asleep if it hadn’t been for a slight knock interrupting her slumber. She took her head off her pillow, confused as if she had slept for so long, Gwen had returned. Another knock made her get from the bed, sleep still in her eyes as she opened the door to come face to face with one of the dressed up employees. 

    - Miss Y/N, dinner is served.

    - Just Y/N please. 

    - I believe it would be more of Miss Forrest’s comfort if you were to inform her dinner is ready. 

    - Oh ... Miss Forrest ... she’s, she’s not feeling very well. 

    - Should we call a doctor?

    - No, it’s just ... you know, that time of the month. - Y/N had the most nervous smile on her face, but as the man heard that specific term, he scrunched his face for a few seconds before returning to his normal formal and stoic posture. Maybe she had gotten away with it. - I don’t think she’ll want any dinner.

    - Oh, alright, would you still like to have dinner, Miss Y/N? - he questioned. She was rather hungry, after all, all she had before coming in was dinner and after sleeping she always awake up feeling like snacking, therefore dinner sounded like a good idea. 

She followed the man into the kitchen that similarly to the rest of the house had the same simple yet modern design to it. The floors were in the same shade of marbled black with few specks of grey, the walls were white with a black wooden backsplash and one of them had the same full amount of windows which gave a beautiful view of the Upper East Side. There were various balconies connected to the walls but the biggest one was in the middle where some chairs were laid. 

Y/N watched as a woman, probably middle aged, set the table. Just like the man who had brought her to the kitchen, she was dressed in sleek, working clothes with her hair held in a perfect bun up-do. 

     - I hope you like goat cheese and bistro salad, m’am. - she set a beautifully prepared plate in front of Y/N as she took a seat in the table. - I can prepare you something if you don’t like it, m’am.

     - No, it’s beautiful, thank you so much. - yes, she was used to living in some sort of high fashion style due to the environment she had brought up with but this, this was different. This was expensive in all sorts, from how the employees dressed, to the way the food was presented. However, Y/N noticed that instead of being surrounded by other people eating like it would normally occur at her prior home, she was instead surrounded by staff watching her eat, no Sebastian in sight. - Is Mr. Stan not joining us for dinner?

     - Oh no, m’am, Mr. Stan eats in his office. - the woman replied. 

     - What about you guys? Don’t you wanna eat? 

     - It’s fine, m’am. We’ll eat after you finish. 

     - Alright ... - Y/N pushed her plate slightly away from her, turning on her chair so she could face the two staff who were now staring at her as if she were any sort of threat. - Where me and Miss Forrest were raised, staff is treated just as well as family members. I don’t know what orders you follow from Mr. Stan but when you deal with me or Miss Forrest, you sit down and have dinner with us if you wish. 

The dinner went a bit better after she gained some company. The staff was sweet, very professional still but sweet nevertheless. After dinner and fighting a bit with the woman named Anna so she could help with the dishes, Y/N decided to walk around the house. Gwen still hadn’t returned and despite her countless messages sent to her, they were seen but not replied to. Thankfully, Sebastian hadn’t left his office as promised which meant she only had to lie whenever any member of staff would ask if she needed something. 

The penthouse was pretty much a regular place with more rooms than she could ever imagine with some being locked and others being open and perfectly decorated yet seemed to be non inhabited. However, what had sparked her interest was the very last room she checked. The room’s wall except for one were filled with book shelves which were filled itself with endless amounts of books. She looked around, wondering if someone was spying on her, before entering the room, her hands grabbing the first book she saw. The Great Gatsby. It sorta made her chuckle how that had been the first book she caught, the story of a wealthy man who lives by himself. The book itself was in rather good condition with the traditional blue cover with those unsettling eyes staring right back at her. She opened the book, her eyes going to the date of print making her realise what she was holding. April, 1925. A first edition. 

      - Looking for a good read, Miss Y/N? - she dropped the book out of surprise, not expecting the voice. Her head snapped in the sound’s direction, watching as Sebastian walked over to her, slowly crutching down to grab the book from the ground.

       - Are these all yours? - this was the biggest self collection of books she’d ever seen, it was somewhat hard for her to wrap around her head it belonged to a single person, specially first editions. 

       - My father made sure I got an expensive education. 

       - Have you read all of these? - her eyes widen at the mere thought of it. Just reading one shelf of books looked like it would take at least five years, at beast. 

       - Not all of them ... some are in Greek. - he couldn’t help but be entranced by her as she lowered her head to hide the small smile that settled itself on her lips. - Are you one for reading?

       - I majored in English Literature, reading was all I did for three years. 

       - Fits. - he put his hands on the pockets of his formal trousers. - You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Miss Y/N? 

       - I wouldn’t think of it, Mr. Stan. - Y/N wasn’t one for lying unless necessary, specially to someone who had a reputation for ignoring empathy and other human emotions. 

       - Where’s my fiancée, Miss Y/N? - the mere question knocked the air away from her. - And please do not use the same excuse you used with my staff. I know everything that goes on in this house and I know for a fact she’s not in her room. 

       - I ... I don’t know. 

       - I think you need to figure out where your loyalty lies, Miss Y/N. - he picked her chin, making sure she looked into his eyes. If there was something he knew was to intimidate someone with his gaze alone, however, she looked embarrassed to be caught in a lie rather than scared. - As my employee, you owe me your loyalty and the truth. 

     - My loyalty lies with Gwen ... not with you. - she took a step backwards. He sucked his teeth, arms crossed on his chest. - I don’t mean to disrespect you, Mr. Stan but ... Gwen’s my friend and my employee and I owe her my loyalty. 

     - You do realise that if Miss Forrest gets hurt it is you who’s gonna be held accountable. 

     - Please don’t be mad at Gwen. - she rubbed her arms. - She’s never really wanted to get married, at all, to no one. This is a bit of a change she has to adapt to.

     - Don’t flatter yourself, angel. Genevieve Forrest is not exactly the type of woman I’d personally chose to be with but I’m not being childish about it. If you wanna have a good time under my employment then you better reconsider telling me the truth.

taglist: @sideeffectsofyou​

[seonghwa-is-babie]

I'll wait

Y/n is a vampire who's been alive since the 18th century, but whilst others like him already found their soul mates, he was left waiting until a certain boy was born

Seonghwa x vampire! Male reader

Note: as soon as I saw the thing about this being seonghwa's first life, I just had to make this. Btw vampires don't burn in the sun in this fic

Being immortal wasn't that bad, you could see how humanity evolved alongside you, how new species were discovered and how old ones went extinct. You could try and perfect just about any skill you desired

What is bad, is not having to wait for your soul mate to be born while suffering an empty life, this was a problem for y/n, who even after nearly 200 years of waiting, still hasn't gotten his soulmate

He could vividly remember that day he touched the globe which would reveal where your soulmate was with a light, only to have nothing light up, much to the vampire's dismay

🐯

That was in 1760, and has been waiting ever since, checking the globe just about every day, but never getting that light he longed for

In the mean time, y/n made several identities for himself, only to die in a tragic 'accident' and start again as a 20 year old in a different setting, as he had the connections to do so

🐯

The year was 1998, y/n's persona this time around was a successful artist, painting for many people in his for now home, Germany,

He's been reluctant to once again look at the globe, afraid he simply didn't have a soulmate, alas, he did check, on April 3rd, and something he never expected to happen, happened

It lit up, a small light emitted on the map, in South Korea. Y/n couldn't hold back the tears of joy "welcome to the world, my darling, I can't wait to meet you"

Now, y/n knew not to go to a child and declare they're soulmate, but he did make sure someone kept an eye on him for his safety and to get to know him just a little bit

🐯

In the years he had someone look after them, he had learnt his soulmate was a boy by the name of Park Seonghwa, he had gotten some pictures over the years, and he absolutely adored how he looked, he couldn't wait to see what he'd grow into

🐯

It was in late 2017 when he decided to fake another death, by paint this time. He had 2 fellow vampires photograph him and make up the story he got drowned by paint in his lungs when a bucket fell. And people believed it

He quickly got a new passport after and moved to South Korea, where he would have to make a name for himself once again, but first he met up at a café with the friend who had to keep an eye out for Seonghwa

"how is he?" y/n asks, curious about what his soulmate was doing "he's training to become an idol, expected to debut sometime next year" he nodded "so how are you gonna tell him?" y/n hadn't thought about it that much "I'll move in and make a name for myself first, then I might be able to somehow get an interaction"

"how about fashion design, idols often have many different outfits, so if you just work at one that's fairly popular, I'm sure the opportunity will be there"

🐯

And so he began as a designer at a company, whilst also keeping track of seonghwa, which had become a lot easier thanks to social media

He was still waiting to formally meet him, but he went to every show Seonghwa's group, Ateez, performed at, he was fascinated by the boy's moves and good looks. He made sure seonghwa didn't fully see him though, wanting to safe that for when they met

🐯

It actually happened later then he expected, when he was an independent designer in late 2019, KQ, seonghwa's company, asked him to come design outfits for their new album, all to action

He was excited to finally meet the boy who had grown into a charming young man. Of course he was also excited to meet the others, but he's been waiting for over 200 years for this to happen, so of course it's understandable

🐯

Y/n had arranged a meeting with all 8 boys, one by one, leaving seonghwa last, he wanted to spend some extra time with him whilst making sure he didn't see him beforehand

🐯

One by one, he spoke to each member, wrote down some notes, and took their measurements, until the final person came to him, his soulmate, who he'd been waiting so long for

To say he was nervous, was an understatement. He tried distracting himself by turning around and looking outside his window, to the bustling streets of the city

"umm, hello? Sir are you okay?" he heard a concerned but also confused voice say. It's him, Park Seonghwa. He mustered up all of his courage and turned around, approaching the young man "it's nice to finally meet you in person" he held his hand in both of his

"You're..." before seonghwa could continue, he felt a sensation from the man's hand, a warmth so new, yet seemingly so familiar "my soulmate...?" the young man had never experienced such a thing before, and neither did the other, but with lots of stories, he knew what it was

"you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you, my darling" the younger still looked quite confused "if I have some time left after, I'll explain it to you briefly, but if you really wanna know all of it, I suggest you could come with me" he got a bit nervous "You're not gonna do anything bad, right?" y/n looked almost shocked he even asked "of course I won't, I didn't wait this long just to hurt you, alright?"

🐯

After everything was done, y/n took seonghwa back to his apartment, of course with seonghwa's manager's approval "do you want anything to drink?" the younger shook his head

They sat down in the living room "where do you want me to start?" "you said you waited a long time for me, how long was that?" y/n already saw this question coming, but he was willing to explain it all for seonghwa "about 260 years, you see I'm a vampire, an immortal being that's been alive since the 18th century. Of course common folk couldn't know about this, so about every 40 years, I fake my death and start a new life somewhere else, this time I went from a painter in Germany to a fashion designer here"

"but how come you didn't have any previous soulmates?" y/n sighed "because it's only your first life here, darling. Back in 1760 when I interacted with the globe that showed your soulmate's location, nothing lit up. It wasn't until April 3rd 1998 when it lit up, when you were born. I decided I wouldn't see you until you were older, since I also have my morals of not going after children or minors. I've only been here since 2017 actually"

Seonghwa was left in awe and shock, but also slight guilt that y/n had to wait so long for him "I'm sorry you had to wait all that time for me"

"don't be, I learned a lot of useful things and had lots of experiences thanks to the time I was alone" y/n smiled fondly at all the memories "did you fall in love with anyone else along that time?"

"I've met and seen many beautiful people, but none were as beautiful as you are now" seonghwa blushed at that "You're cute when you blush" this made him even more flustered

🐯

They talked for a little while longer before realising how late it is "I have a spare room you can stay in, it's right across from my room, so if anything's bothering you, just come to me" seonghwa nodded and went to the room with some clothes y/n handed him to sleep in

🐯

At night, seonghwa found himself not being able to sleep, there was a constant feeling that something was missing. He figured out it must have something to do with the fact that he now has a bond with y/n

So he made his way over to y/n's room, gently opening the door to find y/n also being awake, seemingly also not being able to sleep "can't sleep either" the latter asked, seonghwa nodded "it's like something's missing"

"maybe because we found each other now, we don't wanna be separated again" seonghwa was still a bit in thought, but suddenly started blushing "ummm, w-would you mind if I stayed here... With you?" y/n smiled and slightly threw the covers open so seonghwa could climb into bed with him. They didn't say anything after just staring at each other in silence, until y/n noticed seonghwa was getting tired. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead "goodnight, my darling"

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve: Shall We Go Inside?

Summary- 5.3k Charles Blackwood x You. You were sent a ticket to the exclusive fund raiser at Rose Red on Halloween Night. You are to visit the character Charles Blackwood, played by your forever crush Sebastian Stan. He supposed to take you on a tour of the famous haunted manor, claiming it to be the home of his Aunt Ellen Rimbauer and Uncle Wilford Rimbauer. What a once in a life time opportunity! You might just never want to leave. 

Warnings- its a ghost story, creepy descriptions, mentions of suicide, death. 

A/N- written as my last submission to @jtargaryen18​ Haunted House 2020. This will be the final piece I write for Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve, and I hope you all enjoy a glimpse and some back story of Rose Red that wasn’t given in the Curtis chapters. The story is from Stephen King’s Rose Red which was a TV mini series. Excellent Halloween movie if you can find it. Its hard to locate now. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics​ Happy Reading and Haunting. 😈🎃🌹

Masterlist

You couldn’t get over your good fortune when you checked your mailbox that morning. Inside was an envelope, with wispy handwriting with no return address. When you opened it, there was a ticket, an exclusive ticket to the Rose Red All Hallows Eve charity function. 

Your jaw dropped, cause even though you had been trying everything to secure a ticket for months, no one would sell you one. And you tried finding scalped tickets, willing to take a chance for one, only to be turned down. It was an invite-only, only the elite were getting to tour the mansion and meet some of their favorite movie actors in their darker roles. 

Your hands trembled as you brought the ticket closer, reading the fine print to see which person you were getting to meet. Not that you were picky, you would take the chance to meet anyone. Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Frank Grillo, Scarlett Johnson, or Chris Hemsworth. Just being able to get into the mansion was worth all the months of begging and trying just about anything for tickets. 

Your eyes roved back and forth, trying to pick up a name when you saw the fine print announcing that you would be escorted around Rose Red by Charles Blackwood from We Have Always Lived In The Castle. You gave a little squee of excitement, having really wanted to meet Sebastian Stan. What a better character on Halloween night then the devious cousin Charles. Your plans for tonight went from working on a project for your boss to getting red wine drunk and watching the movie on Netflix to get reacquainted with Charles Blackwood. Research, of course, you didn’t want to be meeting the famous “Charles” without having done your research after all. Happy in a way you haven’t been in a while, you went to pour your wine and binge, wishing you had someone to call to tell your news to. But you were a bit of a loner and didn’t tend to connect with people. 

But whatever, this well this was going to be the best Halloween yet for you. No getting sloppy drunk in a bar to bring home some wanna be cowboy or that one time you brought home a clown. A disgusted shudder went through you at the memory. That wasn’t a Halloween you were particularly proud of. Not this year though, this time you were going to one of the most haunted places in New York and seeing Sebastian Stan. Wonder what it would take to bring him home? Making yourself grin like an idiot, as your major fan girl crush made your heart race. You poured almost the entire bottle of red wine in the goblet. 

“How did the saying go? Treat Yo Self.” Lifting the glass you took a rather large swallow.

Charles stood at the entrance, waiting for the next patron he was to bring through the mansion. They should be arriving soon, the time on the ticket said 11 pm sharp. Waiting at the gate, his back leaned against the cold stone of the wall and his gaze fell upwards to see a bit of green creeping over the wall, sprouting thorns sharper than any dagger. Charles hummed softly with a bit of a smirk to see the creeping vine, a small bud twisted as it grew in size. The bigger it got, the more it tinted from green to blood red, and it spiraled open to a single rose. Reaching up, he pinched the stem, clipping it off and bringing it down to admire it. The perfect petals are just as soft as a woman's lips when he brushed his fingertip along one, and when a thorn bit into his palm, he hissed at the sting, that too just like a woman. Don’t respect her, and she will cut you down. Blood welled up and spilled towards the ground before he brought his palm to his mouth and sucked it clean, inspecting to make sure there wasn’t any of the thorn left in his palm. Snipping off the thorns, he let them scatter into the gravel under his feet. 

Charles was fixing the rose into his shirt pocket, when you started to come out from between parked cars, your hands smoothing against your thighs with a bit of nerve and you just looked so innocently sweet. The corner of his mouth quirked up while he inspected you. She’s a perfect choice, he thought maliciously as his features shifted to warm and welcoming. “Welcome Dear to Rose Red, my family's Manor. My name is Charles Blackwood.” Plucking out that flower from his shirt pocket, he gave a slight bow and held it out for you. Your giggle went right through him, making his toes curl in his shiny black Louboutin’s all the way to the base of his neck where his expensive Tom Ford collar rubbed. You looked up at him with a touch of innocence that should make him feel bad, but it didn’t. 

You dug out your ticket and showed them to Charles Blackwood, which he inspected closely and pulled out his wallet to pocket it. You bubbled with excitement and lifted the rose he had just given you to your nose, letting the tip brush against the edges of the petals. “Thank you. I shall press it to dry it when I get home Sebastian. But I have no place to put it.” You started to figure out a way to hold onto it and not get it ruined when he took it back and wedged it into the stone wall behind him. 

“It will be safe here Dear, and Charles, please. I don’t know this Sebastian you call me.” He gave a wink and you nod in understanding. It was supposed to be just the characters showing you around. So it made sense that you were supposed to call him Charles, not Sebastian. You bit your lip and nodded. 

“Of course, Sorry Charles.” you loved how well he fell into character, offering his arm to you that you curled your hand around his forearm, falling into step together once you two went through the iron-wrought gate. 

“No harm is done, Dear. I’m very excited to show you around my Uncle and Aunts family home for the evening. It’s not often I have such a lovely woman on my arm.” He leads you up the stairs and opens the massive door to the mansion. “After You. There are a few groups inside, but we won’t be running into them.”

Your head tips back to look all around, taken in by the deep wooden double staircase sweeping up to the upper floors, gleaming marble floors and a crystal chandelier that as you and Charles walked underneath it, you couldn't help but tip your head back, mesmerized by the glinting of the crystalline shards. “One of Ellen's nicer finds. She had the chandelier shipped from France, each crystal carefully wrapped.” 

“This whole place, it looks completely restored. I thought it was condemned, banned from the public?” You question as he leads you into what looks like a sitting room, another room that spoke of decadence, with plush chairs around a large fireplace that seemed to take up half the wall, large vibrant persian rugs sat atop rich wooden floors, and in the glow of the lamps light up around the room showed carvings in the wall, cherubs dancing amongst vines and roses. You shuddered a bit looking at them high above you in the molding. The innocence of them felt wrong in this place, malicious. 

Charles directed you towards a small staircase that went halfway up the room, climbing while answering your question. “Ahh yes. Well it is technically. But I have been told that Rose Red might be reopening soon to the public. For tours, the occasional overnight ghost investigations.” 

Once you two reached the landing, you saw the ornate dollhouse. Charles was able to turn it around on a turnstyle stand, and flicked a switch, lighting up the inside. Leaning down, you peeked inside in awe. It was a perfect replica of the house, the lower levels showed a large massive kitchen, sitting rooms, library, offices. Then up the stairs a ballroom of sorts, another library, bedrooms, and other odd rooms that seemed to serve no purpose. 

“This is beautiful.” You muttered and straightened, clasping your hands behind your back to keep from picking up the matching furniture to look closer. 

“My Great Aunt Ellen had this made for her daughter April, who was confined to Rose Red due to her bad health. She was a lonely child, her father sending her older brother off to boarding school. Wilford wanted little to do with his daughter. She had a deformity to her arm from birth. Withered. He would have disowned April, but Ellen wouldn't allow that. Upstairs, is a whole play room dedicated to her.” He pointed to a corner of the upstairs, which you peeked in to see a soft pink rose colored room filled with toys and dolls for a little girl. 

“What was wrong with April, to cause her to have a withered arm?” you asked and Charles shrugged. 

“It's said that Wilford wasn't faithful during his and Ellen's honeymoon, passed on a exotic disease to Ellen. She was ravaged in the years following their return to Rose Red. Which was also a honeymoon gift. He promised her anything she wanted. So the two years they were gone Rose Red was being built by one of the largest crew of men seen at the time. They even installed a train to bring in supplies from the harbor.” 

Charles directed you down the stairs to go look out a window, and far off beyond what looked like a greenhouse was a large train, like a black ghost of the past, rusting away under the vines wrapped around the engine. Squinting you could have sworn you saw a couple of women following a lantern down the path. “Rose Red experienced the first deaths with that crew. The train was derailed, killing hundreds of men on the grounds at once.” 

You shuddered while pulling away your gaze from the train. “How awful.” 

“How awful indeed.” Charles nodded, and tilted his head. “Some believe that such a massive tragedy stains the land, maybe what brought the house to life. Come, some of the more interesting rooms are upstairs.” 

Crossing the room for the massive grand staircase. “Do you actually believe that Charles?” 

“No, no I believe something else powers this house. I have my theories.” Charles gave a secretive smile, the two of you started up the many flights of stairs. He gave a bit more history of the house, including the most recent events that officially shut the doors for good to all further investigations till now. “A team of psychics led by a college professor came in. There were four men and five women with varying abilities. One woman disappeared, one died when she refused to leave, and two men died on the property during that weekend.” 

You pulled up a bit hearing this, closing your arms around yourself as if to protect you, like that could protect you. “Wait, should anyone even be here?” You said fearfully, and Charles looked back at you with a reassuring smile. 

“I assure you the house is dormant. The state of New York wouldn't allow us to have a charity here unless it was perfectly safe. I myself have been here many times.” His voice was smooth and confident, letting you relax a bit. Giving a nervous chuckle, you eased back into holding onto the crook of his arm, his other hand patting yours. He dropped a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I will keep you safe, this is my family's home.” 

After several flights of stairs, Charles led you into a massive hallway, doors lining each side. The symmetry while looking down the hall gave the illusion of it going on forever, you could just barely see the end of the hallway, or maybe it was getting smaller the further along it went. “This place is trippy.” You muttered to yourself but Charles happened to hear you. 

“Yes, it was purposely designed by Ellen this way. She had her own way of doing things that didn't necessarily make sense to anyone else.” He studied doors as you two went along, your eyes kept roving up to see what looked like the ceiling slowly getting lower when he turned you towards a door. “Ahh, the first room on our tour of interest. As I said, Aunt Ellen, well she got creative when designing rooms.”  

Opening a door, you went in and quickly paused as you weren’t entirely sure what you were looking at. Before you were upside down lights, standing upright, and covered in dust and cobwebs. What bothered you looking at them was that they should be hanging above you and that's when you tilted your head up to look above. Unlike any room you've been in before, desks were hanging above you, each one set up to have someone sitting at it as a chair was tucked in. Trays for papers, cups with pencils. It was just what you would expect to see in an office above you. Out of instinct you jumped back, half expecting it all to come crashing down, just to have yourself bmp into Charles' chest, making him chuckle as he embraced you gently. “Easy Dear, it's all safe.” 

You took a few steps away from him with an apology, your head tilted back to look around. “What in the world?” 

Charles, strolled along next to you, hands in his slacks, as he looked up at it all, chuckling. “Aunt Ellen's idea of a joke to her husband. He didn't seem to appreciate it as much as she did. Really it was just another room to show off to guests who came to visit.” You couldn't stop gaping at the details, wandering away from Charles who remained at the door. Even the walls had bookshelves filled with books, reading chairs above your head. 

“I will be right outside, take your time.” Charles slipped out, leaving the door open while you paced over to get a better look. A lamp clicked on to your surprise right above your head, and what your eyes saw made you jump back and yelp. Sitting in the chair on the ceiling looked to be a woman in a cocktail dress, her head tilted back. Decaying grey skin peeling and black hollow sockets where eyes should be was matched with a gaping smile. “Come now dear, don't be shy. You are the newest guest right?” Her head tilted and creaked, giving you what was once probably a seductive smile, but now the lips were stretched too tight and split to show decayed teeth beyond them. You stumbled back into a chandelier that was on the floor, and fell to your backside. Looking back up, the lamp above you was back off, and the chair empty. “CHARLES!” You push off the floor and run to the door, wrenching it open to stumble back into the hallway that Charles catches you as you fall into him. “What's wrong?” 

“I just saw- well I think I saw- there was a person, a woman sitting up there. But not a woman, she was rotting, old clothes.” Your words stumbled out as Charles straightened you back up. 

“Sounds like you ran into one of Rose Reds resident ghosts, Deanna. A famous actress who went missing while freshening up during one of Ellen’s parties.” 

You looked over your shoulder at the door and moved away from it. “Why is she here?” 

Charles rubbed on your arm, to calm you a bit. “She never returned to the party that night. Local police came out and searched the entire grounds for days. But she never recovered. You're pretty shaken, do you wish to continue?” 

You gave a chuckle and rubbed at your hands against your thighs to dispel the nervous energy. You should go, hell your heart was hammering so bad that you might just keel over any minute. No one was ever to see any actual ghosts on these things. Then that's when it occurred to you, side eyeing ‘Charles’. Sebastian was perfectly staying in character, that all this was. Actors, all of it. You almost laughed at yourself for getting caught up in the whole Halloween spook.  

“Yes… I just. I cant believe there are actual ghosts here.” you played along with a shrug, brushing yourself off where you fell in the dusty room. 

“Rose Red is full of many surprises.” Charles smiled in that charming way of his and offered his arm to yours. “Aunt Ellen, well she had a taste for the macabre. Holding frequent seances without her husband's knowledge, as he was away often. It's bound to attract some… interesting energy in a place like this.” 

He seemed to be counting doors, and you were right at his side, willing your hammering heart to calm down. “You're not going to leave me alone again, right?” you worried your fingers into his sleeve, as if weaving him closer, to not let him go. Sure they were just actors playing a part, really good actors. You couldn't begin to guess how they got her to sit upside down like that on the ceiling, but there was nothing to be scared of. 

“No, I'm surprised that the house is actually this active tonight. Maybe it's all the people passing through for the charity. But you're perfectly safe. I assure you.” Another door opened and you hesitated while stepping in. 

The floor shimmered oddly to you at first, till you looked down and went stock still. You were standing on a mirror, the whole floor stretched out in a mirror, and all you could do was picture you stepping on it, and it shattered. Charles took several strides forward, and chuckled softly. “It's perfectly safe. This glass is made to be walked on.” 

You take a few precautionary steps and chuckle. “Another one of Ellen's jokes?” 

“Yes, she took great pleasure trying to come up with oddities to fill the house.” 

You continue being mesmerized with the mirrored floor, watching as you walk across it. “Why? Why so many odd rooms?” 

Charles hummed a bit, tipping back and forth on his heels to toes, watching as you sweep across the floor, grinning to yourself in such an innocent moment. “Well, after April disappeared, Ellen is said to have lost her mind. She claimed that Rose Red must never stop growing. It's in fact true that no one really knows how many rooms Rose Red has. At this point there are rooms like these, staircases that go to nowhere, hallways that narrow to where you have to crawl through. Doors that lead to the outside on these upper floors. It is easy to get turned around here. Rooms seemingly from nowhere appear still. They are not on any official floor plans.” 

You gulp and shake your head. “It all sounds… so unreal. Rooms building themselves? Impossible.” 

“One would think.” Charles chuckles. “But every time it is attempted to be documented, and then when it's double checked, nothing adds up. There’s missing rooms that seemed to have disappeared, only to have reappeared elsewhere, another staircase, the halls won't match up.” 

You paused, still looking down at yourself in the mirror. “You said April disappeared?” 

“Oh yes, she was playing in the main kitchen under the watch of one of the staff. The woman walked from the kitchen to collect something for just a moment. When she came back, April was gone, her beloved doll abandoned on the floor. After a search, again, the staff was brought to the police barracks. She was unable to leave after the questioning.” 

“So they arrested her?” You start to feel cold, chills creeping up the back of your neck like a light touch, sweeping up your back and to the base of your hairline. You reached behind to rub at your neck uneasily. 

Charles seemed to not notice your discomfort, sliding his gaze from you and around the room. “Oh no, they didn't arrest her. No, she was beaten to get a confession as to what she had done with April. Ellen swore her innocence, but Uncle Wilford… oh he paid them to get it out, by whatever means necessary. Her injuries were too severe. She ended up dying here once they finished with her and brought her back, another victim of Rose Red in a way, I suppose.” 

You couldn't help the sadness that seemed to overwhelm you hearing the story. 

“In fact this room also has its own tragedy. Wilford’s brother who also happened to be his business partner hung himself here. From… that light fixture actually.” Charles pointed up at it, but you were looking at its reflection, and the light fixture swayed, a rope tied around it. A heavy set man all blue colored hung at the end of the creaking rope, his feet twitching and his tongue bulging from his mouth. Your eyes shoot up to see nothing above Charles. 

Charles himself gives you an odd look, and you look back in the mirror, he's still there, a swollen hand reaching out as if to grasp you. 

Your own hand was shaking as you pointed down at the mirrored floor. “Right there! You don't see it Charles?!” Your finger points near his feet, in which he looks down and it all seems to disappear. At the same moment, it felt like a heavy rope slid around your neck, and tightened all in a second making you gasp. Your hands fly to your neck, trying to pry at the noose that isn't actually there. When you collapse to your knees, trying to drag in a breath, you happen to see a little girl, in various stages of decay, a withered arm clutching a doll against her chest waved at you from across the room near the door, and an older woman in the same state standing next to her with an arm around her shoulders, merely watching you struggle for air. Your vision started to go in and out, the burning in your lungs now first and foremost in your mind. Charles stepped into your view, kneeling down next to you and you focused on him. 

“Hey! Hey! Y/N, what's wrong.” He yanked your hands away to check your neck, and you were suddenly able to take a gasp of air with a frightened sob, curling yourself in closer to him, and your arms going around his neck. 

“Get me outta here please! I don't want to be in this house anymore.” 

Charles moved to a stand, his hands grasping yours and pulled you to a stand. “Okay, we will end the tour here.” Hurrying you along, you both shoot into the hallway and turn to head back to the main stairway when at the end of the hallway, when the woman you had seen in the upside down room beckoned you two to her. “Come child, the parties this way, I just need to go freshen up, get you dressed for the party.” 

You pulled up sharply in fear with a panicked scream, and Charles spun you around. “This way, there's another staircase at the end of the hall.” 

Now your running with Charles to get away, every door and corner you two ran into became a blur. Once in a while a door would open, some nightmare of a person beckoning you to step in and join them, child like giggles echoes around you or hisses of your name just out of sight made you try to run faster, gasping for air as your lungs burned from running through the endless hallway. Charles was getting winded as well when he came to a staircase but that too was also blocked. This time with a wailing woman, her eyes rolled back to just the whites and clutching her purse to her chest, a dress looked like it had been shredded. Her skin was wrinkled and paper thin looking, what remained of her clothing something from a decade earlier. “I was just here to tour the house, can you show me the way out?” she screamed at you two, below her on the stairs were others, begging to be shown the way out. Now you froze, your mind in shock. 

Charles yanked on your wrist to pull you away as you teetered on the edge of the stairs, continuing to another hallway. 

“The servant's stairs are this way. They lead through the kitchen.” Charles rattled a door knob trying to get it to open, and you looked over his shoulder when there was a flash in your peripheral vision. The carpet in the hallway rolled as if something was racing underneath it, and of course, it was coming right for the two of you. 

“Oh fuck, Charles, Hurry it up” Your hand grasps the handle to, yanking on it. “CHARLES IT'S COMING.” You scream, feeling the weight of panic crushing your chest whenever you looked up, whatever was coming for you was speeding up, flapping dust up from the carpet into the air and you screamed when it was almost on you. The door yanked open for you both to fall in, and slam it behind you, leaving you and Charles in the pitch dark. 

“Oh god, fuck, get us out of here Sebastian.” dropping his characters name, you were over this fun house of hell crap they had made for the charity. 

“What do you think I'm doing?!” He snapped, losing his cool control as he fisted his hand through his hair, taking deep dragging breaths. “Once you hit the kitchen, the door is to your left.” You both start racing down the stairs, trying to be as quick as possible without falling and when you reached that door, you yanked it open and sprinted into the room, expecting to see a stove, cupboards, tables, anything. 

But that's not what you came into, you crashed into a whole other room. Confusion blurs your mind when you take in the attic like dusty interior. Spinning around, a couple times trying to make sense of it. 

“AN ATTIC? WE WERE RUNNING DOWNSTAIRS, NOT UP!” You twist to go back out the door, but Charles slams it shut, and throws a bolt. 

“Oh no Dear, were just where we need to be.” Charles smoothed his hair back, the panicked demeanor completely gone as he fixed his appearance. You backed away from him, licking your lips and panting with a wheeze. 

“I d-d-d-don't understand why we are up here, how we got up here. I want to leave.” Your foot comes down as if you're about to throw a tantrum. “Now. I demand you to take me out of this, keep my money. I don't care Sebastian, I'm all done with this game.” 

Charles crooks a brow, and smirks, striding in close in which you panic and back up further. 

“As I told you before Sweetheart, I don't know who Sebastian is. And there is no leaving. Rose Red needs you, needs you to grow.” 

“To grow? Your fucking crazy.” You start to look for another way out, and your back comes up to a large stained glass window. The famous stained glass Rose that adorned the front of the Manor. 

“Yes, Ellen is still building, don't you see. She needs to feed, and as her great nephew it's my duty to keep her alive.” 

He’s fucking lost it. Hollywood has snapped Sebastian's mind. 

“Just let me go, I swear Seb-” His eyes snapped at you. “Charles… I won't say anything.” 

“Auntie, do you want to let her go?” he asked with a cold grin. “You want to keep building Rose Red right? Keep building for April?” 

Your eyes darted around trying to figure out who he was talking to. But there was seemingly no one there. 

“I will donate more, give you money to keep building.” You felt around your pockets and pulled out your wallet, yanking out your billfold. “See a card.” tossing it at him in the delirious hopes that would appease him. He simply stepped over it. 

“That won't work darling. Auntie Ellen, she needs other materials.” That cold touch you felt before in the mirror room, made you jolt, and you spun away from Charles to see the decaying little girl with her withered arm folded up against her chest. 

“Play with me and baby?” the girl asked, her withered decayed hand shaking as she reached out to touch you.

You reared back and stumbled away to keep her from touching you, momentarily forgetting about Charles till you landed smack into his chest and a forearm locked around your neck. “Why are you scared of cousin April. She just wants to play?” He sneered into your ear, and you started clawing at his arm and trying to kick at him. 

How did you get here, and maybe this was some crazy dream. Your gasping the more his arms tighten, giving one hard clawing motion on his face  when you reach back and kick backwards to cause you both to tumble. 

“You little bitch.” Charles twists to grab at you while you're crawling away, and you kick back one more time, catching him in the shoulder hard enough for him to let go of your foot. 

“Fuck off Prick.” you scream, and yank yourself up, about to run towards the door. You're so close to going back into that hellish fun house when you are stopped right in your tracks, like hitting a wall. 

The lady of the manor stood before you, long off white gown clinging to a corpse. She would have been beautiful once upon a time as your eyes roved her up and down, like all those pictures you saw when you googled Rose Red before your trip, but now she was a nightmare, you stuttering before her with a whimper. “Please... please let me go.” 

“But Dear, Rose Red needs you.” Her voice had a tinkling sound to it, meant to soothe.  

Her brown leathery skin that clung to a skeletal frame creaked when her bony clawed hands cupped your face in a loving gesture, and your terror filled eyes lifted to see her lip less mouth showed what appeared to be fangs. Pale dead eyes softened for a moment, until her claws sunk into your face, tearing through skin and muscle, piercing your skull and her mouth widened to a fang filled gaping rotten hole. 

This is it, this is how I die. Your mind screamed in terror as she descended on you, your vision going dark, and your life just draining away. The pain fades, and your eyes roll back to see nothing. The last thing you will experience in your life, the overwhelming scent of fresh roses. 

Charles wiped at his face when he came to, looking around the attic and seeing nothing more than your still body. Moving to get himself up, muttering to himself. “Fucking bitch, got my suit all dirty.” He walked past your body, and looked to see his aunt picking up a hammer, April standing next to her playing with her doll. 

“I know, more souls for you to feed on Auntie.” He opened the door and made to go back down the stairs, his decaying aunt giving a slight nod in agreement. 

Whistling as he safely strolled through Rose Red, he made his way out the front door, and down the walkway back towards the iron wrought gate. Once he returned, he leaned back against that stone wall, feet crossing at the angle and reaching up to pluck that red rose he had placed there earlier, twirling it back and forth. 

Within ten minutes a couple young women strolled up to him, and he gave them a flirtatious smile, and held out the rose to one of them. “Ladies, welcome to Rose Red Manor, my family home and one of the most haunted sites in New York. My name is Charles Blackwood. Can I have your tickets please?” 

[magnusmysteries]

Part 37: Gertrude For The Win

The Magnus Archives was a horror podcast. It is now completed. Many of the show’s mysteries were never explained on the show. I intend to explain them. Spoilers for the show, but also spoilers if you wanna solve these mysteries yourself.

This is the last post in the series. It’s not gonna make sense unless you’ve read Part 11, Part 20, Part 21 and Part 33.

Cracked Foundation is apparently about Anya Vilette, a cleaning woman from a parallel universe. She goes to clean the house on Hill Top road in her universe, but ends up getting transported to the universe of the Magnus Archives.

Anya Vilette sounds a lot like Anne Willet. I believe they are the same woman. And no, I don’t mean Anya is Anne from another universe. Anya is from the Magnus universe. Her memories of another universe are false.

Who gave her the false memories? Agnes. Agnes is connected with Hill Top Road and an avatar of the spiral, and the spiral often makes false memories. When Annie traveled back in time, it resulted in there being two Annie’s. Agnes messed with the mind of one of them, making her forget who she was. Anya’s memories contain bits of truth, like the name being similar. I guess there are limits to how much Agnes can twist someone’s memories.

Anya says she had a sort of vision of the tree on Hill Top Road grabbing her. The tree is made by Agnes, and Agnes is the one messing with her mind. So sort of true, but not quite.

Anya says the tree has eight arms. And later says eight spindly arms come up from the crack and grab her. Eight arms like a spider. So it seems the tree is of the Web. But the tree is not of the Web, it was made to trap something of the Web. Again sort of true, but not quite.

In The New Door, Helen says that the door handle to Michael’s door was warm. Quote from Anya from Cracked Foundation about the door handle on the basement door: “I remember the little handle was warm. I don’t know if that’s just my memory playing tricks on me, but I do remember that.”

So the warm door handle is a clue that this is some Spiral shit. And in the very next sentence there is another clue when Anya talks about her memories playing tricks on her.

Anya claims she’s traveled back in time a couple of weeks. Anne was a time traveler, so again a bit of truth to her memories.

Anya says she can’t find her favorite coffee shop. Agnes did have a favorite coffee shop she visited for years. That inspired her when she made up fake memories for Anya.

Anya says “They said I should come and talk to you. A few people did. People I thought I knew, but they were different.” And “I’ve tried to talk to my friends about it. Those of my friends I can find, but they seem distant, like they don’t really know me.” Who are these friends?

I think the friends are some combination of Agnes, Gertrude and Gantulga. Or maybe Gantulga disguised as various people. They were never Anya’s friends, she just has fake memories of them being her friends. And why are they telling her to go to the Magnus Institute and make a statement? To trick Annabelle and the Web. Annabelle listens in on John, so she would have heard this statement.

Gertrude and Agnes want the Web to think the reality rift can be used to travel to other dimensions. But it can’t. When the Web went into the crack in reality, it thought it would spread to many other universes. But instead it got nowhere. The Web was destroyed along with the other fears.

Why did Agnes choose Annie as her victim? First because Annie is evil and Agnes would prefer to not harm an innocent. Second, because there already is another Annie. If Agnes had chosen another victim, people might have figured out that victim was the same as a missing person.

In Vampire Killer Trevor says “...I’ve always had a kind of uncanny knack for guessing people’s ages. People will come up to me on the street and ask me to guess their age, and I’ll tell them and most of the time they’ll be shocked when I get it right."

There are two ways of interpreting this. First that most of the time he gets it right. Or second, he is always right, and most of the time people are shocked. I believe the second interpretation is right. I think he has a power to help him with Hunting. If he sees someone that looks like a normal man but is only a couple of years old, it's a monster. Same if it's hundreds of years old.

The only time we hear Trevor estimate someone's age is in Children of the Night. He says the homeless woman filled with spiders was about 40. Given Trevor’s age guessing power I think this is a clue that the woman’s age is important. I think the woman is Annie.

In 2006 Ivo talks with Annie and estimates she is in her fifties. (It is pretty rare we get the age of characters in the show. We get Annie’s age because it’s important.)

In January 2009 Trevor meets the homeless woman and says she is in her forties.

22 April 2009 Anya makes her statement.

So the Annie Ivo talks with is the older version from the future. And given that she is around a decade older than the other version she probably time traveled quite a lot. Not just the three years when she took Father Burroughs back in time. She probably traveled back and forth several times to get things just right and get Burroughs and Ivo at Hill Top Road at the same time.

Agnes attacks the younger version of Annie and messes with her mind. Makes her forget who she is. Annie ends up a homeless person. That’s why the homeless woman is full of spiders, Annie is a Web avatar. And that’s why a Web avatar is so pathetic, just using her powers to get a place to sleep in homeless shelters. Later Agnes gives Annie fake memories and sends her to the Magnus institute.

In This Old House Annabelle’s statement is about Eowa, a Saxon from long ago. He built a house where Hill Top Road would later be. He was tormented by one of the fears. Annabelle says Eowa’s name, face and taste of fear lingers after centuries. But she’s not sure which of the fears tormented him. Then Eowa finds himself somewhere else, where the Mercian’s had pushed further. Annabelle thinks he was transported to an alternate universe. She’s wrong.

The fear that was tormenting Eowa was the Spiral. The Spiral was messing with Eowa’s memories, making him remember that the world was different. But he was always in the same world. The Web misunderstood and thought there existed a crack to other worlds. There never was.

All the weird effects of the crack described This Old House fits with the Spiral. Air slightly thinner, lights slightly dimmer, slight chill in summer, unsettling warmth in winter, vibrant fungus, dull flowers. All could be the Spiral suggesting something is wrong.

The grain of the wood of Eowa’s house gets warped. Trees are a symbol of the Spiral, so warped wood fits.

The Spiral influence gets more obvious with Geoffrey Neckham. Strange draughts shifted his candle flame. Gentle murmurs that almost sound like voices. Thinking you maybe are hearing voices makes you question your sanity. Geoffrey even finds a new room in his house. Weird architecture is a Spiral specialty.

So the Web enacted a ritual to widen the crack in reality, manipulating avatars to fight at Hill Top Road. The ritual sorts of work. A crack appears, but one that can only be used for time travel. Traveling to other worlds was never possible.         

In Doomed Voyage who ordered Gantulga to find the camera? The explosions that killed the captain and supposedly killed Salesa is a clue. Who likes to fix problems with explosions? Gertrude. Via time travel she knew Gantulga would replace Salesa. She hired Gantulga and arranged the explosion to fake the death of Salesa/Gantulga.

Maybe she brought a camera lens with her to repair the camera to test it. Maybe when the camera started working, the captain saw that Salesa was Gantulga. Maybe that was what he was trying to explain when he talked about betrayal. But due to the shrapnel in his head he didn’t make much sense.

Gertrude wants Annabelle to have the camera. The camera allows Annabelle to kidnap Martin without John immediately knowing where Annabelle is. I think there was a timeline (or several) where Annabelle didn’t have the camera. Where she came for Martin and John just smote her. So Gertrude or Agnes had to go back in time and fix things.

In Ignorance Gantulga said he hopes that if Annabelle ever wrecks his oasis, that she has the courtesy of killing him first. And Annabelle obeys his wishes and kills him when she takes the camera. Why does Gantulga say that, if he’s in on Gertrude’s plan to destroy the powers? Seems like he would only suffer torture for a few days until the plan succeeded.

In Parting John realizes Annabelle has the camera. He checks to see if Salesa is dead, which he is. Quote from John: “Yes. I checked. I guess she liked him enough to do that for him before she stole [the camera].” Note the phrasing. John guesses Annabelle killed Salesa. John didn’t check how Salesa died, only if he’s dead. John doesn't realize Salesa died years ago from drowning.

I think there was a timeline where Annabelle didn't kill Gantulga. John checks to see if Salesa is dead, confirming he is. Then later he talks with Martin and Martin says Salesa is alive. John realizes something is fishy, Gertrude’s plan is ruined somehow. So Gertrude or Agnes goes back in time and fixes things. Gantulga sacrifices his life to defeat the powers.

In I Guess You Had To Be There Lynne gives a statement about a burning ghost. Later Lynne shows up as one of the people rescued by Georgie and Melanie, though she has forgotten her name and calls herself Celia. From a storytelling point of view, what’s the point of having Lynne show up again? It doesn’t add anything obvious to the plot.

Helen tries to eat Lynne. Why do Helen care about Lynne?

I think the burning ghost Lynne saw was not a ghost, but rather Agnes. In Lynne’s statement she didn’t interact with the burning woman much, just went back to sleep. I think she did interact with Agnes, maybe talked to her. This choice gave Agnes power over Lynne. Agnes makes Lynne forget that she talked to Agnes or whatever. But Agnes now has the power to influence Lynne when she’s in the tunnels.

Helen must have realized Lynne was influenced by Agnes and tried to sabotage Agnes’ plan.

Lynne in the one that tells John that Annabelle took Martin. Since Annabelle has the camera John couldn’t use his powers to know that. I think there was a timeline when John didn’t know Annabelle had Martin and things went differently. Maye John went back and killed Elias without finding Martin and talking with Annabelle? Whatever happened Gertrude or Agnes went back in time and fixed things. Agnes influenced Lynne to warn John.

In the Librarian when John leaves Leitner to smoke a cigarette, Leitner talks, apparently to no one: “I’m not sure you would have liked him, you know. He’s paranoid enough. But I don’t think he’s got the stomach for it.”

I think Leitner was talking to Gertrude. He knew she was alive. Maybe he thought Gertrude would listen to the tape one day. Or maybe Gertrude was in a nearby room, listening in on the conversation.

Why did Leitner need Gertrude’s files on the Unknowing if Gertrude was there? Maybe there was something in the files Gertrude couldn’t remember. Or maybe Gertrude tricked Leitner. Maybe she told Leitner to rescue John from not-Sasha and then talk to John. Maybe she knew Elias was going to kill Leitner, and she needed that to happen, so John could get the Hunt scar from Daisy. Gertrude wanted Elias' ritual to succeed, it was needed to trick the Web.

During the apocalypse Gertrude and Agnes probably hid in the tunnels under the Archives.

So in conclusion: Gertrude destroyed the fears. The end.

[schrijverr]

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 7 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: mentions of grief

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

Chapter 7: Betony Means ‘Surprise’

Alex and Thomas had gone on two more dates together when April rolled around. Nothing had been made official yet, but the kisses had become more heated, their text messages more familiar, with Thomas staying over after movie nights.

However, Alex now had a problem.

He stopped Angelica as she exited her office: “Hey, Angelica, Angie, one of my favorite sisters, how are you?”

“What do you need, Alex?” he wasn’t all that subtle and she saw right through him.

“I am having a minor crisis and I need you to tell me what to do, but I can’t have Thomas overhear. Can we please go into your office?” he pleaded.

“Having love life issues?” her eyes lit up and he felt a small betrayal at her glee about his crisis, but he was also just happy she was listening.

“Yes,” he sighed, “Can we go now?”

“Of course,” she opened the door and ushered him in, asking, “So, what’s up? Tell me everything.”

“Did you know Thomas’s birthday is the 13th??” he whisper yelled at her.

“Yeah, I’ve been friends with him for a while, it’s always been that date,” Angelica shouldn’t sound so amused in Alex’s not so humble opinion.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about, Thomas has been the birthday boy before, ‘Lexi.” she teased him.

“Yeah, but when he was the birthday boy before,we weren’t in this weird limbo where we’re not dating dating, but it’s also not friendship and when it was my birthday we were just beginning to be friends, so I have no clue what he’ll expect from me and I’m really freaking out and you need to help me. Now. Preferably.”

Apparently the panic in his eyes was enough for Angelica to drop the teasing and say: “Hey, no reason to stress, take a breath for a moment,” Alex did so, “Good. So, what is the main stressor right now?”

“I can fulfill expectations except I do not know what the expectations are and I will mess up,” Alex told her.

“That’s valid, but you’re also a dumbass,” this is why he loved Angelica, just because she knew him well enough to call him out on his bullshit, even if the bullshit was coming from his own brain.

“Just tell me what to do,” Alex said tiredly, he had been stressing so much about this that he just wanted to give up at this point.

“Well, me and Thomas are friends, you know this, but his birthday- let’s say he’s not big on it and I never really mentioned it to him, so I don’t really know.”

“Then what-”

She cut him off: “But, he and James are much closer. You can ask him.”

“I don’t want to ask him.”

“Why not, don’t be whiny about this.”

“Because it’s embarrassing,” Alex most definitely whined.

“Then you just have to suck it up or keep stressing,” Angelica shrugged.

Alex bit his lip as he thought about it. He and James had worked together on a project, before James moved to a different branch. It was around the time John had died and Alex wasn’t a pleasant person back then, so when Thomas came back they had definitively grown apart. Alex hadn’t talked to James in forever.

But he also wanted to be a good maybe-boyfriend to Thomas and he didn’t want to disappoint or hurt the other man when it had been going so well so far.

He sighed: “Do you know where his office is?”

Angelica smiled and told him, before giving him a cookie from the jar she had on her desk, because she was ‘a grown woman who could do whatever she wanted, you judgmental asshole.’

“I’ll be off then.”

“Good luck, ‘Lexi,” Angelica waved cheerily as she went the other way to the printer room, while Alex felt as if he approached the doors of the Hell even though it was just the lift.

Getting off two floors below, he walked over to James’ office and knocked, waiting for a beat until the other called out: “Come in.”

He slowly opened the door and in the most awkward way possible he greeted: “Heeey.”

“Alexander, what a pleasant surprise,” he wasn’t sure how much James meant that, but he was hoping for sincerity.

“Yeah, good to see you too, it’s been a while, sorry. I, uhm, I’m not that good with keeping up with people,” he said, before adding, “Especially back then, sorry for that.”

James looked him over carefully, then said: “I understand. You must forgive him, but Thomas gave me some context.”

“Ah, yeah, well, can’t say I didn’t do the same,” Alex replied, “Though, I should have reached out again after I processed a bit more, I kinda took it out on you and that wasn’t okay.”

“No, it wasn’t,” James acknowledged, then the subject was apparently done in his eyes, since he swiftly moved on: “I suppose you have a reason for coming here now.”

“Yeah, can I come in?”

James gestured for him to enter so he closed the door behind him and sat down in one of the chairs across from James as he began: “Now, I know this is not your thing, but I need your advise about something.”

“Is it about Thomas?” James stopped him before he could continue.

“It’s about Thomas,” Alex confirmed.

“What stupid thing are you planning now?” James asked with a sigh.

“Nothing,” James didn’t believe him, so he went on, “Well, nothing yet. It’s- His birthday is coming up – I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you know that – but it’s coming up and I don’t know if I should do something or if he wants to be left alone, just- what are the expectations? Do you know what Thomas expects? From me.”

James paused at the word vomit and mulled over his words, before asking: “You really care about this, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s- it’s been really good and I don’t wanna mess it up,” Alex said, he decided to put all cards on the table in the hope that James would see he was honest and help him not fuck up the best thing that had happened to him since Philip was born.

“Hmm,” James hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then slowly and carefully he began, “Thomas does not like his birthday, he’s not a party man. He usually lets the date go by uncelebrated, so that’s something to keep in mind.”

“Okay, okay,” Alex nodded, “Is there anything I could do? Like, would he appreciate me showing up with take out and a movie or something? Like as a surprise? Is that something he would like?”

“I’m sorry, aren’tyou the one texting him every single day?” James said, “I have to listen to Thomas talk about you so much, I almost feel like I know you too well for the amount of interactions we’ve had and you really think me – the aroace – is the one to go for for dating advice?”

“Why is this so hard,” Alex groaned, “Ugh.”

James raised a brow at this.

“You weren’t the first I asked,” Alex told him, “I asked Angelica and she said to go to you. SoI hoped that you, as Thomas’s best friend, would be willing to help little old me.”

After a beat James said: “I think he would appreciate it, but bring a gift as well.”

“Thanks, you’re literally the best. What-”

“No, I’m not giving you gift ideas,” James cut him off, “Thomas is hard enough to buy something for and I came up with one idea and you’re not getting it.”

Alex chuckled at that, deciding that James had done enough for him to stop harassing the man about his own relationship issues. He smiled: “Alright, I’ll go now. Again, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” James called out to him as he left and Alex did a small lazy salute to him as he left the office feeling a bit better about how to go about it.

As he walked back to his office he mentally made a plan of action, nodding satisfied to himself as he did. It felt good to know what the game was, so that he could find a way to play. Knowing his surroundings had always given him comfort.

It was Wednesday and Laf was picking Philip up from school, claiming the babysitters spot after saying that he hadn’t seen his favorite neveuin forever. This worked in Alex’s favor.

He was let up into the apartment and was immediately greeted by Philip, jumping into his arms as he rambled about cars and a monster and French.

Alex listened and waited until he was done talking, before saying: “Wow, that sounds very cool, buddy. Seems you had a productive afternoon. How was school? Learn anything fun?”

“We talked about shapes!” Philip told him, before explaining why a square was a rectangle, but a rectangle not always a square, “Isn’t that super mega cool?”

“That is super mega cool, buddy,” Alex agreed.

Before he could say more, Laf interrupted: “Wow, just ignored in my own home, I feel personally attacked, mon ami.”

“Ah, sorry,” Alex was the only one of his friends with kids, of course Eliza and Maria had the orphanage, but it wasn’t the same. It was supposed to be him and John together, but now he was mostly on his own and he still felt awkward about it sometimes, like he was too young and had made a mistake, even though Philip was the best thing in his life and completely planned.

“Don’t worry about it, it was a joke,” Laf smiled, easing his anxiety slightly.

Alex smiled back, then asked Philip: “Have you been nice for your Uncle Laf? Didn’t tear the place down, I hope.”

Philip shook his head: “I was very good.”

“We’ll see,” Alex winked, before raised a questioning brow at Laf.

“Mon petit neveustill takes after his best Uncle and is an absolute star,” he said, “You did well with him Alex.”

“Good to hear,” Alex replied, ruffling Philip’s hair, “Maybe you’ll get an extra story tonight, buddy. You can play a little more now, I have to ask your Uncle Laf something for a moment, okay?”

At that Philip cheered as he raced off to his cars, dropping to his knees and getting immersed in his little world once more.

Alex followed him with fond eyes, before Lafayette said: “So, have to ask Uncle Laf something, I am curious.”

“Ah, yeah, uhm, don’t tease me, okay?”

“You’re onlymaking me more curious, Alexandre. What is it?”

“I don’t know what to get Thomas for his birthday.”

Lafayette gasped and jumped a bit, grin splitting his face: “I will help you find the perfect gift!”

“Really?” Alex was relieved, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s not problem, I need this sort of entertainment in my life,” Laf clapped him on the back, “So, what is the vibe?”

“Well, I’m planning to come over to his house with take out and just watching a movie together,” Alex explained, “James said he’s not big on huge birthday parties and we’re not dating dating so I don’t want to make it too big of a deal, but still a deal, if that makes sense?”

“Good insight, I once threw him a huge birthday party and he did not appreciate it.”

“Oof.”

“Yeah, it happens, mon ami, not everyone can see my great party planning skills for what they’re worth,” Laf lamented, “But a gift, he likes books, poetry, music – especially classics – and, uhm, fashion, but I don’t think you’re the man for that.”

“I would protest that, because he literally wears magenta suits, but he also said that I dress – and I quote – ‘like the pits of fashion,’ so he would agree more with you in that,” Alex shrugged.

“Good,” Lafayette nodded, “Now, music, I don’t know how much you overlap in music, so maybe stay out of that one unless you’re sure, so that leaves books and poetry, which you have a lot in common in, so maybe do that.”

Alex nodded, but couldn't say anything before Laf gasped: “Buy him love poetry.”

“That’s kinda corny don’t you think?”Alex asked.

Lafayette thought of that one time Thomas had told him Martha had written him a love song and he had cried, before he shook his head: “No, Thomas loves corny, it’s a good gift.”

“Okay, thank you, you are my knight in shining armor,” Alex told him.

“Live to please,” Lafayette winked, “Hey, do you and Pip want to stay over for dinner, I feel like we hardly get to talk with all the adult responsibilities.”

“Yeah sure, that sounds great actually, though it’s not my fault you’re in France most of the time,” Alex ribbed him slightly.

“Oh please, you would too if you had a real job.”

“How dare you,” they fell into familiar squabbling grown out of many years as young drunk college students making bad choices together.

As they wined and dined Alex mulled over Lafayette’s suggestion. It was a good suggestion, but Alex worried it might be too much, but then again he wasn’t doing much organization-wise, so maybe it would just have to be the gift that was a bit more.

He did want to show up as a surprise, but he didn’t want to be too unexpected or make it seem like he had forgotten or something.

While the night progressed, the idea became more solid in his head and by the time he was tucking Philip in, he knew what he was going to do.

By the time the 13thof April arrived Alex was kinda nervous as he came into the office. He put his stuff down in his office and took a deep breath before going to the break room to make two cups of coffee and wait at Thomas’s office.

He had timed it pretty well and not a minute later Thomas came sauntering over to his office, stopping when he saw Alex. Alex attempted a wave, but was stopped by his full hands, so he just said: “Uhm, happy birthday.”

Thomas blinked for a moment, the smiled and shook his head: “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”

“I know you don’t like to celebrate, so I didn’t want to do anything big, but I did want to do something, it would feel weird to just let it go by, so uhm, here,” he held out the flowers he had with him and the coffee, “I checked your office vase yesterday and there was nothing, so I hope that’s still the case.”

“It is. Thank you, they’re beautiful,” Thomas took the purple flowers, “What are they?”

“They’re betonies,” Alex replied, knowing why Thomas was asking. They had been doing this thing with flowers for a while now, both trying to find flowers that suited the occasion or the other person, which was why he had picked them.

“I love them,” Thomas smiled, opening his office and asking, “Wanna drink this coffee in my office before we start?”

“Hell yeah.”

They drank they coffee talking about nothing and everything as they started up slowly. Before Alex and Thomas starting drinking coffee in the morning, Alex would rush through drinking his coffee to get to his office as fast as he could, but he was starting to see the joys of taking his time in the morning.

Thomas loved how he got Alex to calm down a bit. He loved the other’s ambitions and quick wit along with his concentrated face when he was typing a mile a minute, but this more mellow version of Alex was also nice to witness from time to time.

After a whileAlex finally stood up, stretching as he said: “Alright, I should probably go to work now. See you at lunch? I’m buying.”

“I’m not saying no to free food. See ya, then,” Thomas waved as Alex left.

Whenthe door hadclosed, he got out his phone and quickly Googled the meaning of betonies. Frowning when he saw that they meant surprise, was it because the flowers were a surprise or because Alex had something else up his sleeve?

He started on his work as he mulled over the possibilities.

An hour into the day, Angelica knocked on his door and came in with a smile: “Hi, birthday boy, you feeling old yet?”

“And hello to you too, Angie,” Thomas deadpanned.

“Ahw, come on, Tommy, it’s all in good faith,” she smirked, entering his office and handing him a card.

With slight apprehension he took the card and sighed when he saw that it was a black and white picture of an old lady on a skateboard that read ‘OLD BUT STILL COOL!’ He looked at it then up to Angelica tiredly: “Why are you like this?”

“You love it,” she grinned, then added: “Old man.”

“Just because you’re two years younger, doesn’t mean you’re funny,” he told her, “I’m not even forty yet, so fuck off.”

“Well, you live in your world, I’ll live in mine,” she turned and commented, “Nice flowers.”

Thomas blushed and mumbled: “Yeah, Alex got them for me.”

“Ahw, how sweet,” Angelica cooed, “You two are so cute. If I wasn’t so glad being single, I would be jealous.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you blushing?”

“I don’t like how much it sounds like you’re enjoying my pain, Angelica,” he said, “And since it’s my birthday, you’re not allowed to.”

Angelica laughed: “What are you? Five?”

“No, according to this card I’m fifty, thanks for that.”

“You’re not actually hurt, are you, Tommy?”

“Give me a cookie from your cookie stash and I won’t be.”

“Come on, you big loser, it’s coffee break time anyway.”

He happily got up and followed her out of his office to hers, going back to hang out in the break room for a moment afterwards and catch up on life.

Lunch came around and Alex got a small cupcake, which he gave to him with a shrug: “I wanted to put a candle in there, but fire safety AKA Washington, was lame andwouldn’t allow it.”

“Life happens,” Thomas grinned, picturing Alex whining while Washington refused to let him burn the office down by accident.

“Yeah, it does,” Alex grinned back, “Okay day so far?”

Thomas nodded: “Yeah, got a cookie from Angie and been enjoying my flowers.”

“Glad you like them,” and then Alex gave him a mysterious smirk that Thomas couldn't decipher and he wanted to ask what it was about, but he also wanted to figure it out on his own. So, instead he asked about Alex’s work and let the conversation flow easily between them.

When Alex left to go back to work, he planted a peck on Thomas’s forehead then his nose when he saw the blush, commenting that it was still cute, which didn’t help the blush at all.

With Alex’s departure, he was thinking about the flowers again and he had no clue what to think.

He was still intently staring at them when James entered his office. His friend had already called him in the morning, but had come to congratulate him in person as well: “Thomas, congrats on being thirty-eight, almost not a youngling anymore.”

“Ugh, are you and Angelica teaming up?” Thomas asked, “I swear the only whose been nice about the whole age thing is Alex and that’s just cause he wants to be nice on my birthday, he’ll join you tomorrow, probably.”

“You’re being dramatic, Thomas,” James told him, no pity there, “Ah, flowers, how lovely.”

Aha, he could ask James what he thought they meant. He smiled: “They are. They’re betonies, they mean surprise, what do you think he meant with that?”

“I think he thought: ‘Oh purple, Thomas likes purple, these flowers are pretty, I’ll get them,’” James informed him.

“That’s not what he sounds like,” Thomas protested.

“It’s kind of what he sounds like, with the run on sentences. I swear that man doesn’t know a dot when it hits him in the face,” James complained.

“I always forget you two worked together,” Thomas mused, “Anyway, not the point. The point is that the flowers mean surprise and I need to know why.”

“And I already told you.”

“You’re missing the point, Jemmy. Me and Alex do this thing with the flowers,” Thomas explained, “He asked me out with cornflowers, it was fucking cute, alright. The flowers mean surprise for a reason and I need to figure it out. It’s probably a clue.”

“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion,” James said, twisting his handkerchief around his fingers.

“Oh- you- the- I think you’re lying.”

“What?”

“You’re twisting the handkerchief, you do that when you’re lying,” Thomas accused, “You know something.”

“No, I don’t and I don’t twist my handkerchief when I’m lying,” James protested.

“Yes, you do. You did it when Laf threw me the surprise party- oh God, he’s not throwing me a surprise party is he?”

“He’s not, Thomas, calm down.”

“So you do know something?”

“I can’t believe I’m still friends with you,” James avoided the question.

“I can,” Thomas replied, “Now, tell me what you know.”

James sighed and rubbed his forehead: “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Why not, Jemmy, please,” Thomas whined.

“Because the flowers mean surprise,” James told him bluntly, “I thought you were big on their meaning.”

“You’re so mean to me, Jemmy.”

“And you mostly deserve it,” James said, “Now, have your sisters called you, yet? Or your mom?”

“Yeah, I missed Ma and Mary, I think Jane just left a message though. Why can’t they send a text like Randy, that’s at leasteasy.”

“Oh, jikes.”

“I know, I’m gonna hear about that,” Thomas sighed, “But I don’t want to talk to them yet, because this thing with Alex is just really starting and I don’t want them nosing around – and I know they will – and I just don’t want them to ruin it. You know I can’t keep my mouth shut around them.”

“You’re going to have to tell them eventually,” James said kindly.

“I know, I know, but I want to at least know how to describe Alex when I finally do,” Thomas sighed.

James gave him a look: “You can talk to Alex about it.”

Thomas hid under his arms: “Yeah, but that’s scary, cause what if he doesn’t like me that much? What if he thinks it’s too fast?”

“Thomas, you’ve been on four, in your words, amazing dates, you’ve seen him cry in front of his late husband’s grave, you cried in his arms, I don’t think it’s too fast,” James said, “Now, I know, I might not have the best grip on this, but from what I heard from him, you’re good.”

“You talked to him? What did he say?”

“He said it was really good,” James decided it couldn't hurt to boost Thomas’s confidence, “Look, you don’t have to talk about it today or anything, but you’re going to at some point. I think you both want this, so go for it.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Thomas whined.

“Then you hate me most of the time,” James smirked.

“I hate you.”

“You just said.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d rather you don’t.”

“James, you assh- you know what? Never mind, that one never gets old.”

“Thank you, I try.”

Thomas stretched, popping his back, before making a face: “God, soon these old man comments are going to be true.”

James just laughed at his pain, then they chatted a bit more, before James bid him farewell and told him to enjoy the rest of his birthday. Thomas rolled his eyes at that, he was just going to sit on his couch with wine or something, James knew that.

He finished up his work early and said goodbye to Alex, who was still typing away on his laptop. He waved back absentmindedly, hair in a messy bun as he mouthed some words. The picture made Thomas pause, smiling softly.

At home, he kicked off his shoes and got dressed in black sweat pants and a tank top. He stopped at the picture of Martha on his bedside table. It was his favorite picture of her, she was wearing a yellow sundress and sitting in a field under a tree, holding her guitar and smiling.

He smiled at it and whispered: “I wish you could see me now, sweetheart. You’d be so proud of me.”

The picture stayed silent, but it’s presence was still comforting, so Thomas picked it up and looked at it for a moment.

Then he went downstairs and put on some classical music with a book, determined to enjoy his birthday surrounded by soft pillows.

His stomach started rumbling about an hour later, but before he could do something about it, his phone started ringing. Glancing at the contact, he saw it was Lafayette. He knew he couldn't just ignore the man, because he would show up at his door, so he picked up: “Hi, Laf.”

“Mon ami, bonjour, bonjour,” Lafayette greeted him excitedly, “Bon anniversaire! How are you on this fine day?”

“Yeah, yeah, you know, the usual,” Thomas said, “Though, Alex got me flowers, that was nice.”

“Ahw, you two are so attachante, I love you two,” Laf cooed.

Thomas just rolled his eyes at the Frenchman’s antics, he had long since gotten used to the unlimited amount of energy he seemed to have. He asked: “So, how has your day been?”

“Ugh, you would not believe, Tommy, what I’ve been through, okay,” Lafayette began, “Sometimes a day is ruined as it starts – it was a day like that. Woke up late, big line at Starbucks, didn’t have oat milk for my latte, was late at work, security were having issues and that was before I had even gotten to my office.”

“Sounds awful, Laf,” Thomas was happy to let Lafayette ramble, he liked listening to others with little expectations of his own involvement in the conversation.

“I know, right?” Lafayette agreed, “So, I get to my desk and I rememberedI left it a mess yesterday. Granted, this was my own fault, but it was another thing that just bogs you down, you know. Anyway, I get to organizing my desk then Janice came up to me.”

“Racist, homophobic Senator Janice?”

“Yes, her, the fucking bitch. And I was feeling myself, I was having my highlighter moment, got these cute dangling earrings in.”

“The ones Eliza got for you? With the little crystals?”

“Yeah, I love them – I should thank her for those again, hmm – anyway, Janice starts going off about them, like she’s not dressed like a Walmart clearance rack. Which, nothing wrong with that, but don’t come after my moment.”

Thomas just hummed, confirming he was still listening.

“I wasn’t having this, but before I could level her to the ground, Nyke saves me from slapping a Senator. I appreciate them so much, the only valid person in the entire White House, I will swear by that.”

That got a huff out of Thomas, who asked: “Not the President, but your intern?”

“Obviously, at least Nyke knows how to dress,” Laf replied, “Ugh, they were wearing a corset by the way and I am really tempted, but I’m not sure. What do you think?”

“I mean, if you want to. Why not?” Thomas shrugged, “It seems like something you could pull off. I don’t know, yolo or something?”

“Did you just say yolo?” there was a weird sort of glee and upset in Lafayette’s voice.

“Yeah, not cool anymore?”

“Not- not cool? Honey that hasn’t been cool in years.”

“It started ironic, okay.”

Lafayette cackled: “God, I know you were becoming old today, but hot damn.”

“Not you too,” Thomas whined.

“Not the first?” Lafayette asked, glee not at all hidden.

“No, James and Angie are mean to me and at this point I’m just waiting for Alex to join, but I think he’s waiting until my actual birthday is over in an attempt to be nice,” Thomas lamented.

“You know him so well.”

“I hate you.”

“Live to please.”

“Can we go back to Janice and Nyke?” Thomas pleaded.

“Of course!” Laf’s cheery voice came through the phone, “So, Nyke saved me from beating a bitch up, we drank coffee together – love having interns, it’s great – boring meetings blah, blah, blah.”

“I love that you describe your important job in the government as ‘blah, blah, blah.’”

“We all have our talents, mon ami.”

“Yeah, mine are getting insulted for being old. I’m not even forty yet, okay, I’m not that old. They’re only a few years younger than me, the assholes. I mean, Alex is thirty-three, he has no rights.”

“He hasn’t even started to, Thomas.”

“But he’s going to,” Thomas moped.

“I mean, true.”

“I hate it here.”

“It can’t have been that bad, tell me something good from today,”

“Well, Alex got me flowers, betonies, actually,” Thomas told him, “They mean surprise, know anything about that?”

“Non,” Laf was lying, Thomas knew it, but didn’t push, “Anything else fun?”

“Angie and James coming by was nice and lunch with Alex was nice too. He got me a muffin and complained Washington wouldn’t let him light a candle within the office,” Thomas smiled, “He’s a little menace.”

“Yes, he is, gave that to another scélérat.”

“Is the scoundrel in question perhaps Philip?”

“Indeed, I hear you’ve been upgraded to Uncle Thomas?” there was a bit of teasing in Lafayette’s voice, but also pride.

Thomas blushed and said: “Yeah, who said? It has to be someone from the movie night you weren’t at. Was it Alex? Or Angie?”

“Oh, non, it was mon petitPip, himself, grand tales of his bestest Uncle Thomas,” Laf most definitely teasing with that, but Thomas just blushed heavier, happy that the kid liked him so much, which had been an insecurity when he and Alex had started.

“When did you speak with him? He doing alright?”

“I would say that you get to see him more often than me, but I have him here,” Lafayette informed him, “We’re watching Beauty and the Beasttonight.”

“What? Where’s Alex?”

“Rude, I can spend time with mon neveu, Thomas,” Lafayette said.

“Lafayette, it’s almost 18:30, if Alex’s still at work I have to go drag him away from his laptop,” Thomas explained, “He should be picking Philip up by now, by a while ago, actually.”

“Non, of course not, me and Pip are having a sleepover,” Laf turned the phone away and Thomas could hear him yell: “Pip, you’re having a sleepover with your favorite Uncle, aren’t you?”

There was a faint, inaudible reply, before Laf returned to the phone and grumbled: “Thomas, you need to upgrade yourself to dad soon, I’m loosing my status.”

“What?” Thomas chocked.

“Nothing,” Laf breezed on, “My point is Alex knows where Pip is and it’s all good.”

“Then he could still be at the office, I should call him,” Thomas worried.

“No, of course not, he’s- uhm,” Laf was searching for words when the doorbell rang.

Thomas looked up and frowned, he wasn’t expecting company and he hadn’t ordered anything yet either. He told Laf: “Sorry, one sec. There’s someone at the door.”

“Oh, that’s my cue to go,” Laf sounded relieved at that. His nonsense babbling supply had run dry by now.

“What?”

“You’ll see,” and with that mysterious message, Lafayette hung up.

Thomas shook his head, before going to the front door, thinking of who the fuck it could be. When he saw the person through the window, it all clicked and he wanted to facepalm for it being so obvious.

He opened the door: “Hey, darlin’.”

Alex was dressed casually with a bag of take out in his one hand, a small present in the other. He smiled nervously: “Uhm, surprise.”

~~~~~~~~

A/N:

Disclaimer: aroace people can give good relationship advise, be in relationships if they so wish and I do not want to invalidate anyone, so sorry if it came across like that. I’m just picturing James as an aroace who doesn’t date and doesn’t want to and is tired of everyone’s allo shit.

I love James as a character, but it’s hard to get him in with so many moving parts and people, so sorry for his small role so far. I’ll see what I can do.

This actually goes for all the characters, I want to give them all the attention they deserve, but keeping the story going is also important, so balance ahhh

[buckstaposition]

I cling to your lips like gloss (2)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (in case u wanna come say hello on main but no pressure)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death, some mentions of sexual situations but nothing explicit, spoilers for season 2 (should probably have tagged ch1 for this too oops)

words: 6607, no regrets

summary: it’s not a date if it’s for work

Author’s note: There is so much research that went into this I would just like to say thank you internet for letting me look up stuff from the comfort of my own home at unholy hours even though I did get very distracted while looking up late 80s wedding dress fashion. Also bless the s2 dvd extra which was a director’s commentary on s2 ep10 and very informative.

—

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries @fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83 

(message me if you want to be added to the list. or just message me in general)

and also I urge you to look at the beautiful moodboard that @huliabitch made for me! I love it so much!

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals

"All the best from Mr DEA." Diana said as she threw herself down in the seat across from her best friend. Gabriela looked effortlessly glamourous as usual, even though she was just in a blouse and jeans. She just had that air about her, like one of the vintage movie stars, something Diana had never quite been able to match. She was well aware she was downright frumpy in comparison, not one to catch eyes just by walking past. For the most part, that suited her. Gabi tried to seem nonchalant about the greeting.

"Oh?" She sipped gingerly from her drink and put her menu away. "You finally met, then? He's back?"

Diana nodded and stowed away her purse and cardigan. "Yeah, this afternoon and yesterday, in the morning. He seems... nice enough? I don't know. Not a talker, is he? He seems a bit on edge, to be honest. Though I suppose that's to be expected." But despite everything, he still has kindness in his eyes.

Gabi just grinned at her for a long moment, waiting to pounce.

"Yeah, he can be a bit of a grump. ...Handsome though, no?"

Diana sighed, swatting at the other woman with her own menu. "Did it ever occur to you that the newly divorced woman might have had her fill of men for the time being?"

"It has occcurred to me that five years of unchanging, uninspired missionary for half an hour exactly, twice a week, with that wet blanket you married might have left you with the need to really be filled by a man for once."

"Gabriela!" she gasped, choking on thin air and mortification, even though their conversations would often get way more explicit than this. Just never with her being the subject. Gabriela just smiles like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, hailing a waiter to give him their order.

"Speaking of newly divorced: has the dipshit finally signed the papers then?" Diana groaned, throwing her glasses down onto the table to massage her temples.

"No, he's dragging his feet. Which is ridiculous, it's not like I want anything from him. It's not like we're fighting tooth and nail over every other thing, like that American movie, the one we watched on your mom's old VHS player, you know? With Meryl Streep? In any case, now he decides to fight? If you can call that fighting."

"Kramer vs Kramer." Gabi remarked sagely. "Yeah... At least you don't have children together. That could really have gone ugly. I still don't know what you ever saw in that man."

"Oh shut it. I used to be fond of Juan Mateo; I don't know when that changed." Diana huffed, quickly snatching up her glasses when the waiter sailed over with their drinks and appetizer.

"Well that's the problem, you never loved him! And your parents set too good an example; what could ever live up to that?" She took a generous drag from her drink, then dug into the food with hungry abandon. "At least you're finally rid of his snoring. And his mother."

"God, she really hated me. Couldn't bear it that her precious boy brought some lowly scum from the comunas into her pristine middle class home. Marrying me might have just been the only demonstration of free will that man has ever managed." Diana allowed herself to seethe a bit at the memory, taking it out on her food as she stabbed at it roughly. "And I will definitely not miss the snoring."

"Mr DEA barely snores." Gabriela remarked lightly. "Just ...very softly. It's quite cute."

"Since when do you let clients stay to actually sleep?" Diana inquired around a mouthful, brows scrunched. Gabriela hummed thoughtfully, swiping some sauce off her plate with a piece of bread.

"Ah, but he was so tired, poor thing. It wouldn't have been safe to send him back out, he would have crashed his car and died in a ditch somewhere, which would have been a real shame. I just let him nap for an hour or so that one time. Besides, I wasn't in any state to do much myself after he blew my back out." She had a way of being so nonchalant about these things that Diana supposed came from a sort of professional equanimity. Diana possessed no such poise and gawked openly, the wheels turning in her head as she recalled previous conversations and connected dots.

"Oh." She breathed as realization hit. "Oh! No! That was him? You're kidding me. How am supposed to look him in the eye now?" Gabi was already cackling, barely able to hold her laughter as Diana sputtered, recalling the very detailed recounting she'd received after the night in question. "You said you felt that for days after!"

"I did, but it was worth it." Gabi was now subtly holding her sides, having pushed her empty plate away to be collected. "You see, you're my dearest and oldest friend and I only want the best for you."

"I'm sure Mr DEA would be delighted to know of your crude attempts to pimp him out." Diana snarked, pushing her own plate to the side just in time to be whisked away by the waiter. "You're incorrigible. This is serious. Besides, I think he really liked you, actually."

"He liked the illusion of intimacy, like most of my clients. Lonely but with committment issues to the moon and back. It's not like I'm telling you to marry him. I'm just trying to get you properly laid for once." Gabriela scoffed. She could be so detached sometimes. In fact, one could call it downright cynical. But Diana had known her since they were both in pigtails and could detect the care behind even the most jaded words.

"Oh whatever. I request a change of topic. How's your book coming along? Any progress on that chapter that's been giving you so much trouble?" Diana asked sweetly, making the other woman glare at her over the plates with their main courses as they were being set down. Because yes, Gabriela does indeed write more than letters, and she's good, too. Also, two can play this game of being just slightly mean.

--- --- ---

Javier hated team meetings. And now that he was the boss here he couldn't even get out of them. Worse, he had to lead them. He looked over the assembled agents, glad that he had most of their names down by now. Gladder still that this was a DEA-only event and he wouldn't have to deal with any of Stechner's CIA asswads for now.

"Duffy, where are we on the shipments?" He turned to the other man expectantly. Duffy was one of the few agents here that weren't younger than him; he actually had some experience under his belt, unlike all these fucking greenhorns the higher-ups had sent him. He forced himself to pay attention to Agent Duffy's answer, making notes of important dates as he listened. Operation Cornerstone had, at this point, not yet come to full fruition, but if they continued to put in their due dilligence it was almost certain to turn up something useful. When they'd gone through all the points on his agenda, and after clearing up a few uncertainties, he dismissed the roomful of agents.

"Duffy, got another moment?" Javier stopped the other agent as he turned to leave the conference room.

"Sir?" Duffy sat back down and pulled his writing pad back out.

"Have you come up with any ideas for my informant in Calí?" Javier had mentioned this before, seeing as Duffy was one of the agents permanently stationed at the Calí field office. Now that Escobar was gone it would look suspicious if the head of the DEA in the country trekked up to Medellín every other week, and they needed a better way for Miss Rivas to hand over her collected intel. Duffy cleared his throat and caught the eye of one of his colleagues and waved him over.

"Lopez here has had a few ideas, sir. Tony, tell the boss your ideas for drop-offs."

The other agent was younger, handsome in that pretty way that made girls sigh dreamily, going by his own, admittedly remote, memory of high school and college. Lopez hadn't said much during the meeting, but had that eager glint in his eyes that said he wanted to prove himself. Javier had had that same look when he first came down here; it hadn't survived the first year.

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, so I was thinking the public library might be worth a shot." Agent Lopez pulled a notepad from his own case, squinting down at the scrawled chickenscratch. Javier nodded along, encouraging more than praise. He'd have to run these ideas by Miss Rivas anyway, and if she had concerns they were back at square one. But that was a river he intended to cross when the time came and not a second earlier.

--- --- ---

The satphone was also a good instinct because after their preliminary meetings in April, it gets irritatingly difficult to arrange another one for over a month.

"The what now?"

"The 4th International Poetry Festival. It's on from June 2nd to 8th." she explained patiently. "Orietta Lozano, Gloria Gervitz, Blanca Varela!"

"I assume those are poets."

"Obviously."

"You want me to go to a poetry festival with you?"

"No, I'm taking the week off and I'm going to the festival, and I am also free to meet you. I'm just suggesting that maybe your work hours don't all have to be spent in dreariness and drudgery." Something sizzled on the other end of the line where she was making herself dinner while talking to him, and it made Javier's stomach grumble. "A bit of culture is good for the soul, Agent Peña. You'll burn yourself out with how much you work. When was the last time you ever did anything for fun? Read a book? Hell, listened to music?"

Whenever you call me. She always had music on at home. It drifted through the receiver, a soothing background hum that was too soft to truly make out most times. Add to that the fact that he was still sitting in his office at almost half past seven in the evening, and he didn't have a proper counter-argument.

"Alright, fine. 2nd to 8th, I'll see what I can do."

--- --- ---

She was wearing another belted shirt dress, this one pale yellow and sleeveless, the full skirt reaching to just below the knees. It reminded Javier of the style his mother used to wear when he was little. Saturday, June 4th, had him meet up with Miss Rivas at the Teatro Metropolitano in central Medellín. Her dress contrasted against the blocky red building in a way that tugged familiar, but Javier was trying to train himself to not see blood in every instance of red.

"This is quite a way from Envigado." He announced his approach as soon as he was close enough to not have to shout. She jumped a bit, clearly startled, but her lips pulled into a polite smile when she recognized him.

"Agent Peña." She greeted. "No, cultural grandeur doesn't usually make it out to the comunas." She sat back down on the bench and pulled a flyer from her (rather big) purse, thumbing it pensively. Javier sat beside her, not quite at arms' length. Trying to appear wordlessly inviting, if only to mask how at a loss for words she made him feel. He seemed to be no longer used to normal, civil human interaction.

"Right, there is one reading here at the Metropol that starts in about half an hour that I think you might like. It has a few of the international poets; a few of them will be reading in English. Then there's another one later at the Teatro Carlos Vieco that I'm keen on. It's about half an hour on foot between locations, but there's the open air exhibits that only require a small detour." She pointed it all out on the program as she spoke, Javier silently nodding along in acknowledgement. "I've planned it so there's more than enough time for a lunch break. I hate having to rush through things that are meant to be enjoyed. I brought arepas, but there are usually enough street vendors out and about to get something else, if you prefer." She really did talk a lot. That was surprisingly fine by Javier, since it meant he didn't have to. "Though of course if you'd rather just get your intel and go I understand, but I must insist on at least this first reading, Agent Peña. But otherwise I wouldn't want to impose. I'm sure you have other things to do."

His lips twitched involuntarily and he held his hand out for the program flyer, silently reading it over. None of the names rung any kind of bell. Not that he was much of a poetry aficionado. "Sounds good to me."

She blinked. "Which part?"

He handed her back the flyer, which she took automatically, still eyeing him with uncertainty.

"All of it." She blinked again, looking mildly shocked, the flyer still dangling uselessly from her fingers. "Miss Rivas, I came all the way here and you went through all this trouble planning. It would be a waste to part ways after so short a time."

Truth be told it sounded ...nice. The thought of spending a day just exploring, letting work be work for even just a day (or at least part of it). Despite being an only child, he'd never liked being on his own even when he was young, cherishing every day spent with school friends or any of his numerous cousins. And it wasn't like he'd had to do far less pleasant things for information.

Her expression morphed from uncertain gaping into a wide, pleased smile that he couldn't help but mirror. Maybe she was quite a nice lady after all.

---

"...I have to ask though: What's a ...smit- ...smee-dereen?"

"Smithereens." Javier corrected gently as they exited the venue after the reading. "It means... it's all the small pieces that are left over when something is destroyed. Like with a bomb."

"Hmm," she hummed, pensive as they strolled along with the leisurely flow of the crowd, "I'll have to think a bit more about this." She fished around in her purse, producing bottled water and offering him one. He took it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. "How did you like it, Agent Peña? Already regretting agreeing to this?"

"No." Javier found himself replying perhaps a smidgeon too quickly. "No, it's very uh... enriching." And not what he'd expected at all. Though the festival was now in its fourth year running, he'd never had the chance or the wish, really, to attend it before. He'd barely taken note of its existence, too preoccupied with chasing down leads.

"Hm, you don't have to mollify me, Agent Peña. You'll still get your intel, don't worry." Her expression slipped, from an almost serene smile back into that underlying heaviness that he could identify only now that it had been lifted for a short while.

"Miss Rivas," he said earnestly, "I wouldn't lie to you. I'm just not that good with words. That's why I'm a government agent and not a poet."

That at least made her chuckle a bit. And it was true, too. He felt lighter, in a way, like his mind had been craving a break from the frustrating work of trying to find an in to take down the cartel. Even his shoulders felt less tense here. And it was a beautiful day, too. Warm but not too hot, sunny with a mild breeze. People were out and about around them, festival goers and other citizens alike, mingling freely with a carelessness that would have been unthinkable only a year prior.

"Juan Mateo never wanted to come with me to this." She gestured vaguely at the city and its people around them. "My husband. Ex-husband. Technically still husband because he won't sign the divorce papers." Her features turned tense as she explained, a slight frown appearing between her brows. "Not that it matters now, of course. But goodness, that man had no sense for these things. He thought top shelf coffee was the height of culture. He'd act like going out to a bar one evening every few weeks was a chore beyond compare. Such a martyr!" She huffed and Javier laughed softly, offering to take her bag for a while as she adjusted it on her shoulder for the third time now.

"No, that's alright. It's not heavy. This way." Her hand naturally slipped into the crook of his elbow to steer him down the side of the road and Javier faltered for a moment, cursing himself for wearing a short-sleeved shirt even though it was comfortably warm. He just didn't want to get separated in the bustle of activity, he reasoned. This was a perfectly tame and non-offensive gesture and it would be rude to flinch away, he reasoned. She initiated it, after all. No harm no foul. This was still a professional alliance.

"You think very loudly, Agent Peña." She remarked, lightly squeezing his elbow. "It better not be about work."

"Technically I am at work right now." He countered, covering her hand on his arm with his much larger one and giving it an awkward pat.

"Lucky you." She teased, lightly nudging his side with her elbow.

"Beats paperwork, that's for sure."

They ambled along, weaving through the crowds where they gathered in front of street performers and makeshift stages. Javier couldn't deny that it felt good to feel the sun on his skin, un-recycled air in his lungs; most of all being far away from Stechner and his legion of CIA goons was almost rejuvenating. They fell into a languid rhythm, walking leisurely and stopping every so often to linger a bit where music was being played or more poetry recited, in front of the stalls of local artisans or to look at the sculptures that had been put up as an open air exhibit throughout the city. Every so often, Miss Rivas would tell him some little anecdote, be it about any of the previous festivals or just the city itself. He barely felt the time pass.

By the time they'd made it across the river and to the park wherein the open-air theatre was situated, it was time for a late lunch and Javier felt his stomach start to protest, all that walking serving to work up an appetite.

"...and after school Gabi and I would trek across town to the library and hide by the shelves in the back, the ones with the old classics, and we'd read all the scandalous 19th-century novels about adulteresses and other fallen women. You know, Anna Karenina, Thérèse Raquin, Madame Bovary, Tess of the d'Urbervilles..." Miss Rivas set her bag down and produced a fairly big plastic container from within, setting it on the bench between them. "Perhaps not the most appropriate fare for a couple of fifteen-year-old girls, but it wasn't like we had a whole lot of supervision, you know? It definitely wasn't appropriate to read to a five-year-old, so I guess it's good that Maritza never really paid attention much- Stop my prattling any time, Agent Peña. I know I talk too much; Juan Mateo always used to say so."

Javier paused, an abundantly filled arepa inches from his mouth. "He what now?"

She flushed, looking down and picking at the wrapping paper she'd bundled the food up in. "It's fine, it's not a big deal, really."

"It's not fine." Javier insisted. Told her to shut up, told his own wife that she talked to much! What an ass. He started tearing into the arepa with a glower. They sat in silence for a while, chewing tensely in this little corner of the park at the foot of Cerro Nutibara, in a spot that was fairly hidden among the greenery while still affording a decent view of the city streets below. Javier didn't even know why it irked him so much. There were worse things out there than insensitive husbands. Ex-husbands at that. Still, he seethed quietly in his righteous wrath.

"Wanna see something funny?" She was already digging through her purse, so he didn't see much sense in replying. She pulled a photo from some deep compartment in her wallet, looking down at it thoughtfully for a moment before passing it to him. In his defence, Javier hadn't meant to laugh. It just came out, snorty and half-aborted.

"Hey, at least I managed to evade the poofy sleeves, okay? My mother was dead set on them. She wanted me to look like the English lady… uh, Princess Diana. I think she might have taken the name as a sign."

"That's a.. that's a lot of satin."  And tulle. Javier pressed out, still suppressing his laughter and barely succeeding. He could have pointed out that the mass of ruffles negated any absence of actual puff sleeves, but thought it better to refrain. And it wasn't like she hadn't looked beautiful as a bride, it was more that in that ruffled satin-and-tulle concoction she looked like an unwilling dress-up doll, despite the tasteful off-the-shoulder cut and flattering waistline. It was just... there were a lot of ruffles. There was a lot of dress, period. Paired with an expression that was better suited to a funeral, the effect was almost morbidly comedic.

"Wait till I show you the cake; we were basically identical." It was the dryness of her tone that set him off. There was no suppressing it now, Javier was bellowing, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It didn't help that the dress fashion hadn't really strayed very far from the 'bigger and more style' in the years since. All things considered, this was a comparatively simple gown, lacking the mass of sparkly appliqués and abundance of bows and flowers that had been popular in the latter years of the previous decade. It just wasn't a style that suited her personality in any way, at all. Her slender figure was absolutely drowned in the sheer volume of the skirt alone. Hell, it completely overshadowed the already forgettable man standing by her side in the photo. Though 'by her side' was a generous descriptor. There was definitely enough space for the Holy Spirit and then some between the couple.

"My mother spent ages on that damn dress. Her hands looked like pincushions by the time she was done; that's why she wore gloves to the wedding."

"She's a seamstress, right? Your mother?" She'd mentioned it in an offhand comment during one of their previous phone calls.

"She was." Diana confirmed, tucking the picture away again. "Didn't think you'd remember that."

"Of course. I listen to everything you tell me."

Diana chuckled, flushing lightly. "It's not even relevant to the case!"

"I listen to everything you tell me." Javier insisted and started gathering up wrapping paper and such to throw away. A quick look at his watch told him they'd have to get moving soon if they wanted to make it to the theatre on time to get decent seats.

"Right." Diana collected her things to stuff them back into her bag. "So it's a no for ruffles, but what would you have me wear, Agent Peña? What do you think suits me?"

Javier couldn't have told even the most skilled interrogation expert what exactly compelled him to answer, and so readily at that, why he had an opinion at the ready in the first place, or at least that's what he preferred to tell himself.

"I think... something soft and flowy, not a whole lot of embellishments, if any. Clear lines and a light fabric, something you can dance in and be comfortable. Definitely no more satin."

She laughed now, as well, eyes twinkling with what he thought was approval. "You are full of surprises. Should I ever get married again, I'll most certainly engage your services as designer, Agent Peña."

"I'll keep a spot open for you. First consultation is free."

---

How her hand can feel so natural there in the crook of his elbow after hardly a day, he cannot tell. All he knows is that by the time the reading at the open air theatre is done the sun has started to dip in the sky and if this was what his work was like more often he'd perhaps be happier in his workaholic ways. Though they haven't broached the topic of work in hours now, instead ambling half-aimlessly northward towards Conquistadores where he's parked his rental car at the hotel he's staying at. Because it is a long way to Envigado and he insisted on driving her home. Because even though now that Escobar is gone Medellín is much safer, but he's never been one to easily trust a good thing.

It's only when they've crossed the big main street Avenida 33 that Miss Rivas gets quieter. She's obviously  tired following their prolonged outing, but he instantly misses the pleasant hum of her voice, her clever little observations- At the same time, it's a comfortable silence, not one weighed down by expectation. She'd even let down her hair from where it had been up in a ponytail for most of the day, most likely to keep the thick curtain of it away from her neck in the heat and sun.

They're just crossing a smaller square, the edge of it lined with shops, the hole-in-the-wall kind mostly, when she suddenly pulls away with a soft instruction to wait there for just a moment, and he's left to look after her flapping skirt with what is probably not the most dignified expression. Defeated, he sat down on the broad edge of a flowerbed nearby and watched her cross to a food vendor, order, and fish around for her wallet to pay, before turning around again with a plastic cup in each hand. Fresas con crema, he can make out upon her approach, and one corner of his mouth ticks up involuntarily.

"Hungry again?" He teased when she got within earshot, handing him one cup and setting the other down beside him along with her purse.

"There's always space for this in my stomach." She retorted primly. "If you don't want any, all the better."

"Thank you for the generous offer, but no. Thanks for this." He makes a show of cupping the treat protectively, fully knowing he'll have to set it down to unwrap the plastic spoon that came with it. It makes her laugh nonetheless, which imbues him with a strange, fluttery sense of accomplishment.

She's still standing, head thrown back and grinning wide, when her gaze catches on something at the far end of the plaza, and her expression morphs from glee to astonishment to rage so quickly it gives Javier whiplash.

"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!" Ripping off her glasses and thrusting them into his hands, she began stalking off.

Two things are fortuitous: one, she had to pass Javier to get to whatever she saw and two, his reflexes are still sharp enough for him to jump up and into her path, even having managed to safely deposit the cup of strawberries and cream.

"Whoa, what the hell is it?"

"I- ...she-" Her voice is strained, her whole body taut like a livewire as she attempts to round him and resume her warpath. On instinct, Javier took a few steps backwards, keeping himself between her and her target. It's only his hands on her shoulders that stall her enough for him to be able to whip his head around and follow her eyeline. That side of the square is empty save for an older lady shuffling along, huffing and puffing and blissfully unaware of the wrathful freight train about to rush her. To say Javier was puzzled would be an understatement.

"What, her? The old woman?"

"That's Hermilda Escobar!" She's shaking so much he has trouble keeping a grip on her. "Look at her! The nerve of that woman to show her face here-" She winds out from under his hands, rounding him with a quick sidestep, and he can only match her speed because his legs are longer.

"Hey!" Javier whisper-shouts to be met with flashing eyes, then repeats it more softly. "Hey. What exactly are you planning to do here, huh?"

"I'm gonna give that self-righteous bitch a piece of my mind is what I'm gonna do!" She retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It's cowing, the single-minded purpose rolling off of her. She's strumming with it, her seething damn near tangible. In her rage, she is ruthless. Javier had no doubt, in that moment, that once let go she might well maul the woman with more than words.

It's instinctive, the way his arm wraps around her. Like the few times he's had to restrain Steve and yet not like that at all. For one Javier doesn't have to go for a near chokehold, though energy-wise her wrath is at least as fierce. So, he wraps one long arm around her waist, hauling her much slighter body against his with a half-turn, her forearms colliding sharply with his chest.

"Easy." He rumbles, his other arm coming up to fold across her shoulders. "Easy. Calm down. Calm down!"

Palms smack against his pectorals and it stings. "Hey!" He tightens his hold around her trembling body, her angry, anguished squirming. Softens his voice. "Hey. Calm down, okay? What're you gonna do, beat up that old woman in the street? Come on, breathe."

The sound that comes out of her is something very closely related to a snarl, and he feels the bite of her nails even through his shirt, but holds fast, continuing to ramble empty phrases with the intent to soothe, or at least distract.

"If you tell me to calm down one more time I will get violent." She promised, hands pushing into his chest in an effort to break his hold. The old woman has almost passed by completely by now, seeming blissfully unaware of the savaging she's escaping. Javier held fast, as tight as he dared, the hand still pinching the pair of glasses between two fingers awkwardly patting at her shoulder while he sways them both, rocking from foot to foot.

By the time Diana has calmed down enough that he feels comfortable loosening his hold, the old woman is long gone from view. He feels her slump in his grip, reflexively tightening his arms again to hold her up.

"Hey," he gentles, lightly nudging the side of her head and thinking, distantly, that all but burying his nose into her soft hair is far too intimate a position for any of this. "Hey, it's alright, I've got you, okay? I've got you."

They're still swaying on the spot, a gentle see-saw motion, and then he felt the hands that had been clenching and unclenching on his chest lose all tension and drop down to the side. She's still shaking, her whole ribcage jumping with the hiccup of suppressed sobs. Somehow, he maneuvers them both around and back the few steps from where their snack and her purse still wait beside the flowerbed.

"Why'd you hand me these, anyway?" It's but a cheap distraction tactic, Javier handed her the glasses back as soon as she sat nevertheless.

"I'm not blind without them." Diana responded tersely, snatching the glasses and cleaning the lenses with the hem of her dress. When she doesn't deign to elaborate, he sighs and stretches from where he'd sat back on his haunches in front of her, resuming his earlier seat and finally unwrapping the spoon. It's a tense silence for a long moment, her aggravation like a pulse around them. Certainly it gives Javier a good bit to think on.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"Don't condescend to me. You may have been closer to the action, but I've lived here all my life." She ripped open her own packet with a vengeance, digging the spoon into her own portion with such force that the sliced strawberries bleed into the white cream. Javier sighed. Took a moment to order his words before they leave his tongue.

"I just need to know if this," he gestured between her and the edge of the square, "is going to be something that has to be taken into account. I need to know that you're not just in this for revenge. I need to know where you're at mentally. I need to be sure, both for your own safety and the integrity of this operation, that you're not just going to snap one day and try to claw Miguel Rodríguez' eyes out, okay?"

She chews angrily a moment, eyes flashing at him before she stares straight ahead again. The wrath is still rolling off of her in waves, perhaps dipping a bit in its intensity, but far from dulling just yet.

"You want to know my motivations, is that it? Well, let me lay it out for you, Agent Peña: of my entire class, a third never even made it to graduation, for one reason or another. I spent my youth plotting routes around gunfights in the street, with just enough success to still be alive, somehow. My mother was caught in the crossfire of a raid and was afraid to leave the house for years afterwards. My father was on that Avianca flight. My baby cousin Maritza is dead and her baby will grow up without her mother. And throughout it all, I took the coward's way out, moved cities, for university, for work, for marriage, for myself even, and everywhere I went they were, too. The narcos have spun their spider's web across the whole damn country and beyond and sooner or later everyone gets stuck in it. I got stuck in it despite my best efforts, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of having to flee and turning up in dead ends. Somehow I have landed in this unique position, and I refuse to join them. Is that enough motivation for you, Agent Peña?"

She held his gaze, a challenge in fire, and he wondered how much longer that adrenaline surge would sustain her before she crashed. Wordlessly, he nodded his affirmation.

It's more tense silence after that, thick like stew or the humidity out in the jungle. She doesn't reach for him again as they resume the walk up to his hotel, doesn't casually link their arms like before, choosing instead to fidget with the handles of her bag. He hates it, misses the lightness the day had before. These narcos, they really do poison even the most mundane of things with their long, bloodied shadows. When they get to the hotel's underground garage, she's gone even more quiet, almost deflated. There are no more words exchanged, save for the clipped directions to her aunt's house. At one point, Javier was almost certain she'd dozed off.

---

"Do you ever think you should have been there? When they finally got him?" He'd just parked the car opposite of the house. It's almost completely dark outside by now.

"...Yes." Of course he did. He'd wanted, even needed to. The temporary suspension had not been near as effective a punishment as denying him that. The fruits of his labor, of years spent chasing after shadows and getting himself mired deeper and deeper, until he barely recognized himself when he looked in the mirror. He'd wanted it, sure, but perhaps he hadn't deserved it.

"Why did they send you home?" It's not that Javier is in a particularly obstinate mood, it's just that after the incident earlier, he's reluctant to bring up his own involvement with the cartels of Calí and Medellín, much less Los Pepes, so he gives a non-committal grunt in response. He should have known that wouldn't deter her. "When I first called, Agent Murphy said you had been recalled to the States. I only found out later that that was before they finally got Escobar. Why would a top agent on a case of this magnitude be pulled off and sent back before that?"

"You mean what did I do?" She nodded. There was no getting out of it now. He didn't want to lie to her either. Javier sighed, scratching his thumbnail across his brow. "You're going to look at me differently."

"Perhaps, yes." She took a deep breath, rummaging through her purse and producing a folded up paper. "These are the names of some American banks that I'm very certain help funnel and launder Calí's money. Sorry it's nothing more specific." She placed the paper in his hand, gently closing his fingers over it. "Whatever you tell me, we're in this together, right? We both want to bring them down. I trust you, alright?"

Javier gulped, his fingers tingling under her touch. He pockets the paper to buy time, if only to swallow through his suddenly-too-dry throat. And then he tells her. The dead ends and the crippling bureaucracy, Don Berna, the Castaño brothers and Judy Moncada and Pacho Herrera. His desperate grasping at straws to find a way, any way to throw a wrench in the escalating violence and catch Escobar, how that backfired so spectacurlarly. How he tried to get out, despite knowing that these people do not allow outs. How he'd been played by the fucking CIA because he'd been an idiot falsely believing that the two agencies were operating under even remotely the same objectives. How he'd gone down, almost taking his partner with him, definitely tanking his boss' career. He hasn't spoken to anybody about this in such depth, not even his father. By the end of it, he's exhausted.

"So you're the one Carlos Castaño wanted to feed to the crocodiles."

"What?" He'd expected judgement, even disgust. Certainly not this.

"I overheard Gilberto mentioning it on the phone. I think he must have just learned that you'd be the DEA's man in charge. 'Maybe I should have let you feed that damn DEA agent to the crocodiles after all, Carlos.'  The door wasn't all the way closed, that's how I heard it. I think that was the moment I realized I couldn't wind my way out of this. That either they were going down, or they were going to find out that I was already talking to Agent Murphy and have me... vanished."

"I won't let that happen." Javier promised instinctively, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Crocodiles though? Really?" Not how he thought he'd end, that was for certain.

"Yeah, they're very uh... charming, huh?"

Javier grimaced. "If I never see any of them again, it'll be too soon."

"Knock on wood." Diana replied and unbuckled herself, pushing open the door.

"I'll walk you. It's dark."

"It's only across the street." She protested, and was that the ghost of a smile on her lips? Javier's hands stilled on his own seatbelt.

"You sure?"

"If my aunt catches me coming home with a man I'll never hear the end of it." Diana slipped out of the car, then bent to grab her purse. "Good night, Agent Peña. Until next time."

"Good night, Miss Rivas."

He waited until she was inside, the door securely locked behind her, before starting the drive back.

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

Chapter 3

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

Author’s note cont’d: if you wanna know what I had in mind, approximately, for the wedding gown see here

The International Poetry Festival of Medellín is a real thing, too. They have a youtube channel

[ahiddenpath]

Life Talk

1.)  I won Nanowrimo

2.)  My house is sold

3.)  I’m tryyyyyyying to taking it easy

More below the cut.

So, I won Nanowrimo.  It’s roughly 30K Four Years and 20K Tri: Integrity Lens.  I feel very... blank about it, though.  In the last few years, I’ve been trying to celebrate when I win Nanowrimo, but...  I don’t have any emotions about it this year, probably even less than usual.

I should probably back up and say that, when I was growing up, I was the type that got all As, won every contest, was the lead in plays and singing events, got the good behavior awards, won state-wide science and poetry contests, was on the select sports teams.  I’m not saying this to brag- I was hyper-involved in school and extracurriculars because it kept me away from home.  

It got to the point at home where, if I won an award, the reaction was, “good.”  If I didn’t, it was, “Why didn’t you win that award?  We don’t have money for tutoring, so you had better figure it out *vague threat* ”  Stuff like that.

Basically, it’s hard for me to feel proud of anything.  If I succeed, that’s “baseline.”  Good, I won’t be scolded.  If I don’t, that’s anxiety- “I will be scolded, I will be punished.”  

I can’t change that concept as an adult- it was cemented into me during my formative years.  But I can see it, and I can tell myself- it’s okay.  Don’t beat yourself up over not feeling a certain way.

The big thing on my mind now, still, is that we sold our first home successfully a few days ago.  It’s the most enormous load off my mind.  This whole time, I’ve been wondering- I keep pinning everything on when the house is sold.  Will it actually be a relief?  Will it actually free up emotional and mental real estate?

SPOILER ALERT: IT DID, I FEEL GREAT!  

I told my therapist that I couldn’t feel “at home” and “settled” until I sold the old house, and she challenged me to not wait for some kind of...  Permission?  Catalyst?  Like, don’t put things off citing “my old home isn’t sold” as a reason, because suddenly, a year will have passed and you still haven’t painted your room or put up photos or turned the house into your home.

I absolutely see her point, but I also see mine.  Frankly, now that I’m not paying for two mortgages, I can afford to do some of that stuff (buy paint and supplies, buy a rug, buy a lamp, etc).  It is true that I could have hung my photos at any time, so that was just a mental/stress block, but I do think that pointing to the money that was tied up in paying the mortgages for both homes, and for repairing things at the old home at the buyer’s demand, was... you know, a valid reason not to be throwing money at our current home.

Right now, my anxiety is free to be directed at the fact that the CDC is forecasting such drastic pandemic leaps.  It’s expected to hit in about 10-ish days after today, 11/29, a Sunday that will likely be the largest single day for travel as people head back home in droves to make it to work on Monday after going away for Thanksgiving.  It’s expected that we’ll be seeing 4,000 covid deaths per day in the states around week 2/3 of December.

I really don’t want to go to work physically, because I know coworkers who travelled.  I wish we could all stay home for two weeks, when the symptoms will show for carriers who are not asymptomatic.  I will definitely be limiting my time in the office to after 3 PM, when a lot of coworkers have gone home.  It’s still a risk that I’m not sure is worthwhile.  

Ah!  I should probably say that my therapist is talking about ending therapy.  I started in... I wanna say March or April of 2019?  Is that right?  So I guess it’s been...  Like, 19-ish months?  I’ve learned so much, but I would say...  The biggest difference is that I can see my behavior patterns for what they are, and then decide what to do with them.  I haven’t “changed” at my core.  I can’t, not in the way people mean when they say “you’ve changed.”  The same learned behaviors, belief systems, and emotions from my childhood are there.  I just recognize them when they pop up and can make informed decisions about how to approach them.  

Which, it turns out, makes a huge difference, even if it isn’t really “change.”  I’m always in danger of being too distraught to see what’s in front of my face, though (thanks, anxiety!).

What else...  My husband and I did cheese fondue and hot pot for Thanksgiving!  It was easily the best holiday I’ve ever had.  Holidays are always... so high pressure, always such events that turn a day off into a giant list of chores that might span weeks to complete beforehand.  Plus, I’m always hoping I’m not about to be dragged into some kind of “trap” conversation by both my family and my husband’s, who have very different political views compared to me.

But on Thanksgiving, my husband and I ate amazing food, spent a lot of time together, and I felt so loved and cared for and valued, because my husband came up with the idea and made it happen, all so we’d have a nice holiday together.  Honestly, I don’t deserve him.  I don’t get it.  He’s so amazing?  I love him so much.

As for my writing, I’ve been feeling...  Bad about it, frankly.  I think it’s partially because it honestly looks like no one is reading Tri: Integrity Lens.  I don’t get it?  It was my most requested story in 2018/2019, and I know people wanted a sequel to Growing Up with You, so why is TIL doing so poorly?  At first, I thought people were going back to read GUWY again first, since I saw a huge surge in hits for it.  Now, I’m not sure?  Like, if I open my stats, some random GUWY chapters will have over 10 times the hits as the newest TIL chapter???  ???? ????  ????  ?????

I’m wondering if it has to do with Tri itself...  I think that, the more time passed, the more people who liked Tri are maybe defensive about how... negative the fandom reaction was, overall.  Meanwhile, people who dislike it, I think, have maybe simply... chucked it out the window, and don’t think about it much.  Whereas, when it was still coming out and directly after it wrapped up, I think people who disliked Tri were more interested in imagining ways they might have personally tweaked it.

That makes things awkward for someone like me, who thinks Tri has amazing moments basically... tacked onto a crumbling base.  

Actually, let me give you my weird metaphor for Tri!

When I am deciding if I’m going to write a new fic, often what happens is...  A few powerful ideas coalesce, a few themes and characterizations.  Some people say they are lead by a few powerful scenes.  I think of these ideas/themes/character ideas (or scenes for other people) as sparkling ornaments on a Christmas tree.

The problem is that...  Ornaments in a box don’t... do much.  You need to display them on a tree, right?  The ornaments need to be connected and supported by a plot (unless you decide to write a focused oneshot, which is my recommendation in most cases).

In short: Tri has amazing ornaments, but the tree is... not... doing that well.  The ideas are there, there are plenty of awesome moments, but something about the actual story/execution just...  Didn’t do it for me.  But dang, those are some nice ornaments!

That was quick and dirty, but hopefully it conveyed the general idea.  

ANYWAY, I’ve been trying to decide if I’m going to continue TIL.  I think right now, I would definitely finish Ketsui, since I have so much material written already.  Why waste it, right?  But I’m not sure what the future of the story will be- not plot wise, but rather, “is my time better spent elsewhere”-wise.

I’m not sure if I need to focus on a new story, if I should take a break, or what.  I need to write for my mental health, but it doesn’t have to be a fanfic.  It can be anything, as long as I explore whatever is eating at me.

And that is where I am!  I hope you’re all staying safe <3

[betweenandbeloved]

Divinity: Mastered

Well, yes and no, but as of Tuesday, I officially completed all classes and assignments for my Masters of Divinity! I’m waiting on final grades and on Friday will officially be a seminary grad!

After 3.5 years it feels crazy to finally be here, graduating seminary with my Masters of Divinity. As this chapter in my life closes I reflect back on all the things I did in seminary, and suddenly, I feel like my perpetual exhaustion has all been validated:

I took 26 classes in 5 semesters across 3 campuses. I lived in Philadelphia, took some classes in Gettysburg, and for the last year joined the Distance Learning crew online and on Zoom.  I took classes in theology, history, faith formation, administration, worship, and so much more. Some of my favorite were definitely: The Lord’s Supper and the Church as Communion, Jesus and Cultural Perspectives, Theology and Praxis of Disaster Spiritual Care, and the travel seminar to Israel, Palestine, and Jordan.

I completed field education with Upper Dublin Lutheran Church. I was at church every Sunday, preached a few times each semester, attended or taught confirmation, adult forum, and some Sunday School classes, and did countless other programs with the church. While also taking classes.

I completed Clinical Pastoral Education - I spent 10 weeks working at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in center city Philadelphia. I met with patients and families in the Neuro Intensive Care Unit, Surgical Intensive Care Unit, the Emergency Department, and much more.  I listened to stories, sat with people while they died, and learned a lot about the incredible health care workers who work so hard. I held the record for number of traumas in one night and the record number of total deaths in a CPE unit. It was hard but so holy.

I spent a year on internship working full time at First Lutheran Church in Waltham, MA. The first six months were filed with preaching, teaching, leading Bible Study, visiting members, planning worship, and more. The last six months were figuring out how to do church at the beginning of the COVID-19 global pandemic. I learned first hands the realistic demands of ministry and fell absolutely in love with pastoral ministry.

I worked  at the Lutheran Archives Center at Philadelphia helping to preserve Lutheran history. I spent countless hours inventorying objects, artifacts, documents, and photographs from conventions, gatherings, and congregations dating back to the 1700′s in some cases. It taught me a lot about how much the church changed in just the last few hundred years.

Pre-pandemic we had social gatherings and outings. Thursday Church Key (drinking/ social time), evening Compline worship, Wednesday chapel and community lunch, Thursday breakfast and dinner church, Sunday family dinner, Monday outings at McMens, snowball fights, football practice, and so much more. It’s this social time that I’ve missed the most in the last year with the pandemic. But we still found ways to get together outside for meals and games, worship together on Zoom, and have hallway distanced gatherings.

Above: gathered for Compline, Below: Luther Bowl 2019

I made friends from near and far. Some from the same synod, others from new synods and states, and some from across the country and world. I also reconnected with friends from ELCA Youth Gatherings and from Young Adults in Global Mission. They have all taught me something unique and interesting about church, faith, and this crazy journey we are on.

Above: YAGM friends in seminary at ULS and LTSS - Justin: Mexico, Luke: Argentina/Uruguay, Rebekah: Hungary, Catherine: UK, Me: South Africa, Below: one of the many pre-pandemic family dinners

I wanna take a minute to shoutout my best friends from seminary. Zach Dean, (now) Rev. Stephen Boyhont, and Justin Marx. These dudes supported me during meltdowns, shared food, friendship, and laughter, and were always down for an adventure to Trolly Car, Earth Bread, or Ritas. Seminary would not have been the same without them. Also a huge shoutout to Sarah Marx and Ana Crivelli (soon to be Dean) for keeping all of us sane - we wouldn’t be where we are without your love and support.

Stephen is now off doing the pastor thing in Milwaukee, WI! Prayers and blessings to Zach and Justin as their next steps continue to unfold.  Enjoy this transformation photo from 2019 (pre-internship and pandemic) to our goodbye gathering for Stephen in April 2021.

There won’t be an in-person graduation ceremony, which is okay. It would have been nice to see all my friends one last time, but safety is of the utmost importance. We will all be together again someday, maybe a reunion? Maybe some ordinations in the future? Maybe future weddings (looking at you Zach and Ana)! We may be all over the country, but we will always be connected.

So what’s next for me? This is a journey filled with prayer and discernment, completing my master’s degree was just the beginning. That being said, I’m currently in conversation with the New Jersey Synod of the ELCA in the hopes of finding a congregation where I will serve my first-call as pastor! Stay tuned to see how the future unfolds!

[ofnoras]

               『 candice patton. twenty-nine. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that NORA BARLOW from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview ? minnie may’s always calling them -CIRCUMSPECT & -OBSTINATE. i happen to think they’re not that bad ! they’re a pretty cool PET STORE OWNER and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +PROTECTIVE & +AMIABLE. i hope i see them around again ! 

hello friends ! my name is elle and i’m super excited to be here !! i’ve been eyeing this rp for a while with bones of an idea and once i saw thia’s connection after my zoom class today, i began to piece the puzzle together ! there’s still more i wish to explore about nora’s backstory and personality, but for right now, this is what i’ve got !

BASICS.

full name: nora june barlow.

birth date: april 10th.

zodiac: taurus.

age: twenty nine.

gender: cis woman.

pronouns: she/her.

sexual/romantic orientation: heterosexual.

current residence: fair lane, mapleview, north carolina.

living conditions: with boyfriend, adrien ryerson.

occupation: owner of pet store, happy tails.

languages spoken: english.

BACKGROUND.

birth place: york, pennsylvania.

education level: college graduate with a bachelors in business administration.

father: franklin barlow.

mother: marian barlow, deceased.

siblings: older brother and younger sister.

birth order: middle child.

children: one on the way !

relationship status: engaged to adrien ryerson.

pets: three year old tortoiseshell cat named lady.

PHYSICAL.

faceclaim: candice patton.

eye color: brown.

hair color: brunette.

glasses/contacts?: wears reading glasses.

dominant hand: left.

height: 5′6″

build: slim.

tattoos: none.

piercings: both ears pierced ( previous belly button ring that closed up ).

allergies: peanuts.

EXTRA.

+ traits: protective, amiable, optimistic ( tries to be, at least ).

- traits: circumspect, obstinate, impatient.

hobbies: knitting, reading, driving aimlessly around town with the radio blasting.

likes: cold weather, animals, pastel colors, making friends.

dislikes: being alone, talking too much about herself, a messy room.

alignment: neutral good.

BIOGRAPHY.

was born on april 10th, 1991 to franklin and marian barlow, their second child and first daughter. grew up in york, pennsylvania until she was eleven and her parents decided to move to mapleview due to being closer to other relatives. though she now lives on fair lane, she used to live on sycamore way up until she moved out. her father was a dentist and her mother a teacher, two paths she never wanted to follow, despite their encouragement. as a family, they were never incredibly close -- her father had quite the temper and three years after moving to mapleview, her mother had an affair. it was the talk of the town and nora, nor her siblings, could escape the gossip. her parents soon divorced and life was never the same after that.

more than anything, nora and her siblings fought. the divorce split them onto sides and their clashing personalities never had peace between them for too long. her brother was too much like her father and her sister never had a nice thing to say. still, when it came to others, nora protected them fiercely and when push came to shove, she always had their back, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

as a child, in an environment that made it seem like there was a side to choose, nora chose her father. it was good that she had, as she and her siblings spent their weekdays with him in his two bedroom apartment. the constant bickering and fighting grew worse as they got older, many arguments turning physical or ending up with something broken. nora always tried to be the mediator, but nothing could ever calm anyone down once they’d been riled up. instead, she filled her high school years with clubs and as many friends as she could, keeping herself out of the apartment, always busy.

nora was sixteen when her mother passed away. tragic car accident. the two hadn’t spoken in nearly a year and at first, nora was numb. she was grateful for it, especially when the guilt came next and it never left. her siblings hated how emotionless she was with their mother’s passing, at the funeral, in the days after. it wasn’t that she hadn’t cared, but that everything hit her a week later, once she was alone in her bedroom. there are many reasons nora hates being alone with her thoughts, but her mother’s death was the start of that. it’s also one of the contributors to why she prefers to keep busy.

she distanced herself from her siblings and her father, never quite being as open with them as she once was. nora took a part time job at her dad’s office, working there for a few years until she graduated. with the inheritance from her mother and scholarships, nora was able to leave mapleview for college. she wanted a fresh start and in her mind, she never planned to return to mapleview. nora went to college out west and majored in business administration with the hopes of starting her own business in... whatever made her happy. meanwhile her father’s business closed and he was forced to retire.

after graduating, she planned to follow where business opportunities would take her. all that crumbled when she got a phone call that her father was in the hospital. he’d had a heart attack and nora was terrified that if she lost her dad, the overwhelming guilt she’d felt with her mother would come back. out of her own selfish reasons, she returned to mapleview. her father recovered with surgery, but was never quite the same. his health was declining and doctors were able to determine he had early onset alzheimer's. nora made it her responsibility to come home and take care of her dad, getting a job at the local pet shop while she did. the money she’d been saving up went to a day nurse for her father. he was family, after all.

years passed. when she was twenty four, she met adrien. his charming personality was evident from their first conversation and while it didn’t take much for nora to be smitten with him, she definitely made him work for it. soon after, they started dating, and they’ve been together ever since. with adrien’s job and the both of them being focused on their careers, a future was something far off in the distance. marriage, kids... they’d briefly spoken about it, but left the conversation for down the road. it was never a question that she wanted to be with adrien, but the idea of a family scared her. she wasn’t sure if she’d be a good mom and the unknown was something she didn’t know she could come to terms with. that was, until she got really sick one morning and decided to take a pregnancy test. the positive terrified her at first, knowing they had wanted to wait and that there was no way they were ready... but seeing adrien’s response and thinking about the future definitely got her excited. now her pinterest is full of “nursery ideas” and “first time mom tips”.

it was a year after she met adrien that she became the owner of her own pet store. the place was local, owned by an elderly woman that treated nora like the loving mother she’d always wanted. they both bonded over the years and when she decided she’d be retiring to florida with her husband, she wanted nora to have the business. even as assistant manager, nora couldn’t possibly accept... but then the deed was being put in her name and she jumped at the opportunity. a local place that sells pet supplies and occasionally takes in surrendered pets to care for/find loving homes for.

and that all brings us up to present time ! nora has been pregnant nearly a month at this point, owns and works in her own pet store ( which will have a name soon enough ), and just really loves being back in mapleview. she missed it, she really did. she’s excited for this new path and what the future will bring her for the first time in... well, for the first time ever, really. 

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS.

old family friends/neighbors from when she lived on sycamore way.

cousins/relatives that her family originally moved to town for.

perhaps bad tension with the family of the man her mother had an affair with?

exes/childhood friends that drifted apart/competition rivals in school.

someone who has been best friends with nora since she first moved to mapleview.

moms who nora has been bothering about future mom stuff/pregnancy stuff.

frequent customers of her store/people who had adopted animals that keep nora updated ( please, she always Begs for this when people adopt out ).

i’m honestly down for anything !!

if u read all of that ... phew ... idk why u did but THANK U ! i know it’s long ... i’m sorry ... but if you like this, i’ll message you to plot ! i do have discord so if you’d prefer that, let me know, i just don’t have it up right now so i’ll need to know if you wanna switch to that !