#it's always been just the two of us! me and libby

[mulderscully]

the other day i watched a youtube video about how the past doesn't exist but i'm rewatching a movie i was hyperfixated on in 2004 and i still remember all the words 20 years later so.

[lilacponds]

I've learnt to just assume it regardless, but I hate SO MUCH posts that are "helpfully" letting you know that hey X is free! don't use Y when there's Z widely available at no price whatsoever!!! (even worse when it's guilt-trippy) and then you check X and Z out and they only either exist or work in North America. which was said nowhere in the original post or the 5 chained reblogs and nowhere in the first 30 replies.

like aight. I'll go fuck myself then. apparently the US is the only country that exists for you to not include that vital piece of information in your posts.

"I can't recommend enough-" You can. Your post was unhelpful and incomplete.

[solar-nightengale]

@lizardthelizard You wanted my thoughts, you're getting them ��� Three and a half weeks later but you're still getting them ehehehe 😌😌😌 (Idk what to make of them so have fun with that word wall of mayhem)

August 2.18 | Zelena 3.16

[no1bookgirl]

Wild Goose Turkey Chase

Synopsis: Every year, since Tobais Hawthorne discovered Nash’s fondness for turkeys, Hawthorne House has set up a pen full of turkeys somewhere outside of Hawthorne House. In 2024, 27 years after the first turkey pen had been set up, a certain Hawthorne *cough* Xander *cough* forgot to lock the pen correctly. The turkeys put their brains together and hobbled out of the pen, now having free reign of Hawthorne House, tormenting its occupants with a haunting gobble.

POV: 2nd from you as Grayson’s gf!!

Pairings: Grayson x Reader, Avery x Jameson, Libby x Nash, and Xander x Max!

wc: 9.8k

a/n: Thanksgiving fic!! one of my first actual character x reader things. I was going to do a halloween themed one cause halloween would be crazy at hawthorne house, but thanksgiving was much more festive! (this might also be a day or two after thanksgiving 🙄🙄) Warning!! one y/n usage that I really tried to avoid… I hate having to write y/n it’s so icky to me ☹️ MINOR GAMES UNTOLD SPOILERS!!!

Now, I present: Wild Goose Turkey Chase

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024

When you are the girlfriend of Grayson Hawthorne, former heir apparent of philanthropist Tobias Hawthorne, you were bound to have that big, fancy Thanksgiving that you felt you could never get used to. You were also bound to getting caught in the antics of his brothers. And their girlfriends.

Yeah, Hawthorne Thanksgiving was good, lavish, luxury, chaotic especially, but you couldn’t help but remember your fondness for your grandmother’s mashed potatoes. Or your mom’s turkey. Those quiet, comfortable, small Thanksgivings. The ones where you’d actually have time to go around the table and share something you’re grateful for.

Trying to take your mind off of your need for your grandma, for your mom, just for your family again, you walk down the art gallery, staring at the walls of endless works. Your eyes fall upon one exhibit, a large amount of turkey-hand paintings ordered by year. There were four rows of them, each containing around eight paintings. The top row was Nash’s, the hand feathers becoming more defined as the years grew on. It was cute to think of the Hawthorne brothers squishing their hands in paint, pressing it against paper, and decorating it was silly items like top hats and monocles, a cowboy hat and a lasso, or sun glasses and a glass of wine.

You’d done the same project when you were a child, running home from the bus stop, paper fluttering in the wind, slamming the door open and proudly displaying your artwork on the fridge. Gentle hands would rub your back, cheek kisses were also common, soft words would encourage your art.

Before actually meeting the brothers, you never would’ve been able to imagine them doing that from what you had seen. It would feel too forced, like they just didn’t fit into that picture of childishness. But maybe that was one of their plans all along, Grayson’s plan. He needed to be that mature business man, always trying to keep himself steady, others steady too, including you until you saw through that facade, breaking him open to see who he really could be.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Grayson’s voice came from behind you, the now audible clicking of his shoes becoming louder.

“Yeah,” you laughed. Turning around, you found one of those rare Grayson smiles plastered on his face, warming her heart. Maybe it was the holiday spirit, or maybe the fun memories of the turkey hands.

He looked down, like he was nervous, but you could still see the hint of the smile. “It’s you,” he said as if reading your mind, “that’s making me smile like this. Even after being together for three years, it’s still so foreign.”

“Well, I’ve gotten used to your smile.” You took a few steps closer to him, closing the gap as you wrapped your arms around him. “Gray?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to know something I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving season?” you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

He cocked his head. “Friends?”

“Close…”

“Family?”

“Closer…”

He chewed on his lip, in actual thought. “I give up,” he said, mock defeat in his voice.

“This Thanksgiving season, I’m grateful for…” you paused for dramatic effect, your mouth staying in a wide open-mouthed smile. “You.”

Grayson’s brows shot up, even though you had told him this millions of times before. “Really?” he asked, his arms finally wrapping loosely around your torso.

“Forever,” you sing, rocking you and Grayson back and forth, “and ever and ever and ever.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, taking in each other in the silence, wrapped up all nice and cozy compared to the outdoors. But everything with Grayson was warm. Swimming was warm because of summer. Grayson was warm because he was your sun, the thing that brought that smile to your face, the sun that faded down into a calmer, more comforting figure as the day dragged on. Grayson was the warm person you would wake up to in the morning, pressing yourself against his chest or his hair or wherever you happen to be.

Grayson leaned down into your ear, his breath warm, heating you up even more. “They’re setting the turkey pen up soon,” he commented. “Do you think it would be fun to watch?”

“Grayson,” you cock your head at him, “we do this every year: You come up to me, butter me up and all that jazz, then ask if I want to watch them build the pen, which we end up doing no matter what I say.”

He chuckled at you, at all the other turkey pen watching times you’d been together. Reaching around his back, he grabbed on of your hands, giving it a gentle kiss. “Shall we?”

You gave one of those small, flustered smiles even if he had done this so many times before. “Why, yes, prince charming.”

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The pen was always a grand thing, more than enough room for the turkeys. There were about seven or eight turkeys in there, not at all knowing they would get slaughtered in only a matter of days at the hands of the greedy, and hungry, Xan- Hawthornes.

“I feel bad for them,” you said, letting your head rest against Grayson’s shoulder as a frown deepened on your face.

Grayson’s head cocked gently. “Why is that?”

“Because they don’t know they’re going to be eaten,” you began, even more empathy creeping in now that you actually expressed your sadness. “They just think they’re getting out in a new fancy home.”

“Well, all things have to come to an end at some point, and sometimes that end might not be when you’d expect or want,” said Grayson, his voice soft and steady, keeping you down.

You nodded absentmindedly, continuing to stare at the helpless turkeys. “I guess you’re right. But when are you not?” you murmured, hopeful that he didn’t hear the last part. But by the small smirk that he somehow couldn’t suppress, you could tell he did hear it.

“Who’s all coming for Thanksgiving this year? It’s approaching faster than I’d like.”

“There’s a few new people coming this year,” Grayson said, a half sigh in his voice. “I know Gigi and Katrina will be joining us this year.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of that cat. Lord did it scare you. Not that you were scared of cats, but the way the leopard sized cat would stare at you from Gigi’s arms, it’s pupils shrinking as it looked like it was planning you to be her next meal. Grayson always made sure to keep a safe distance between you and Katrina whenever Gigi decided it was her turn to barge into your room. Whether it be holding Katrina or letting her sleep on him, he’d separate you two.

“That damn cat,” you breathed out.

“Knox may also be here this year, maybe not. Lyra’s having Thanksgiving with her family. All the rest of the normal people will be there: Avery, obviously, Jameson, Libby, Nash, then on,” he said.

You blew out a long breath, wishing you could see it in the air. If it wasn’t cold enough to see your breath, it wasn’t Thanksgiving yet. And Texas had a long way to go. 70° F was no where near what homes temperature would be around this time of month. Now, coats would start to be pulled out of the basement. A sweatshirt wouldn’t be enough to keep you warm. Hats wouldn’t be out for a while. It always seemed that something, just one thing, was just off enough for this place to not feel like home.

Even if you came here almost every break you got in school since you met Grayson three years ago, it still never felt right. Too hot. Too stuffy. Too many people. They didn’t know what you meant when you called certain things differently. You’re offered sweet tea instead of lemonade on those hot summer days. It was never enough. And you felt bad. Grayson always tried to make you feel at home here, safe, secure. You tried to make yourself seem happy, but Grayson could see right through it.

A whirring sound came from somewhere around the corner. Grayson’s arm instinctively went to wrap around you, holding you closer to him. A… figure emerged from the corner. It was Tiramisu… in a child sized Jeep?

Without having to see who it was, Grayson called out, “Xander.” It was silent before Xander popped out from behind you and Grayson, his arm tightening even more around you. You yelped, clinging on to Grayson.

“Greetings, fellow residents.” Xander gave them no time before he started to ask questions. “How has your day been? How do you like Tiramisu’s Jeep? How about the turkeys? Are they interesting this year? Should I dye them purple-“

“Alexander,” Grayson commanded, stopping Xander in his tracks. You’d almost never seen Xander stop talking this quickly, but he was silent. “There is no need to dye the turkeys, or anything for that matter, purple.”

Xander’s lip puffed out in a pout. “But that’s the best part,” he whined, knowing full well that he would do it anyway. And temporarily dye Grayson’s hair to get back at him.

Contorting your face, you look to Xander. “I don’t think purple is very festive…”

Xander looked up, taking that into consideration, and nodded. Tiramisu panted from beneath you, wiggling against whatever was keeping him in the toy car. Xander bent down to pet him, earning wet dog kisses to his hand.

“We better get going,” he said, “Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne, you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Your brows furrowed. “You training him for the Macy’s day parade or something?”

“Similar to that. Hawthorne style,” he said with a grin that greatly reflected Jameson.

“Do not suspend him from a helicopter like you did with our last dog? That did not end well for Wilhelmina,” Grayson scolded.

What happened to Wilhelmina?

Xander huffed out a long sigh, groaning and whining like a little kid. “You always ruin my plans, little Graybe-“

“Don’t even try that with me, Alexander.” The full name again. What was up with him today?

Xander turned around, pulling out a remote control to have Tiramisu slowly follow him as he sulked away. But Tiramisu’s smiley little dog face was the opposite of Xander’s, tongue out and panting.

“Xander?” you called. He slowly, dramatically, turned around to face you again. “Who’s feeding the turkeys?”

“We’re going in an order. I’m first, then Jamie, Grayson, Nash, Avery, Libby, and last Oren,” he mumbled, still keeping his sad face on.

He turned back around, pulling out a remote control to push Tiramisu around as he wobbled away. Beside Xander, Tiramisu was the opposite, his face all smiley, tongue out, tail wagging, and panting.

When they were far enough away, you looked up at Grayson, your best attempt at a mad face directed at him.

He noticed your expression, arching a brow—those weirdly perfect brows. No, it was actually weird—and cocking his head. “What’s that face for?”

“That was really mean, Grayson. I think you should apologize,” you declared.

Grayson gave you a look, one that you knew meant that you both mutual understood something, but you were deciding to act like you didn’t. “He’s going to be okay. I know he’s going to be okay. And the look he gave me just means he’s going to do that, but ten times worse.”

“But you called him his full name. Twice!” You’d almost never heard Xander be called by his full name. Not even by Nash. It genuinely took you a second to realize that Alexander wasn’t an inside joke between Xander and Grayson.

“Trust me, he’ll be okay,” he said, finally, squeezing your arm and giving you a kiss on the top of the head. “Now, how about we go back to our gallery walk?”

The smile reappeared on your face and the two of you turned around, making your way back into Hawthorne House.

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Thursday, November 21st, 2024

Somehow, on this fine evening, every just so happened to be eating lunch at the same time, small talk filling the table as they passed plates around, piling food on top of other food that you knew were not goin for taste good once all mixed together. But for some strange reason, Avery and Jameson made it a competition to see who could stack their plate higher without a single thing falling. They were both well off their plates, at least six inches of food each. You and Grayson shared the same disgusted look. Yeah, your family wasn’t as fancy as all these people, but at least you had manners.

Suddenly, with dramatic effect, Xander burst into the room, a panicked look that you had never seen before on his face. The bang made Avery jump, knocking over everything on your plate, mingling with all the other food. Her hand flew over her mouth at the mess. Not only did it topple over and mix everything, it splattered everything everywhere, on everyone, and Tiramisu was more than happy to clean up the floor.

“Xander!” Avery screeched. Her face softened when she saw Xander’s. “Xander..?

“They. Are. Gone.” He punctuated each word with a force you’d expect out of Grayson.

Nash swiftly stood up, getting into his ready stance. “Who is gone, Xan?”

“The turkeys. When I went to go check and see if they ate all their breakfast, there was only one left. I didn’t close that pen right, they’re all gone,” his tone was frantic, more than you had ever heard from him before.

Grayson followed Nash but his stance was much more protective, aware. “That just means that they are on the premises, not exactly inside of Hawthorne House.”

Xander shook his head violently. “They are inside. The seven that got out. And they are out for revenge,” he panted. You finally made the connection that he was probably running from them.

Oren started to talk to someone on his radio, giving them instructions on what measures to take next. Xander sat down at the table, swiping his finger through Avery’s fallen mix of ham, cheese, mayo, grapes, and some garlic sauce. Xanders face twisted, then loosened, and continued that pattern. Grayson had migrated over to Oren, trying to go through everything they had to do.

The rest of the lunch was silent, doors locked, waiting for the anticipation of the turkeys.

“So everyone-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

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It wasn’t long before one of the turkeys tried to claim its first victim.

Can turkeys fly?

Yes, turkeys can fly, but only short distances.

Speed

Wild turkeys can fly at speeds of up to 55 miles per hour.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Help me.

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You were aimlessly roaming Hawthorne House, trying to find something to distract yourself with. Thundering footsteps came from down the hall, screaming accompanying the steps. It was a familiar shriek. Avery. And then you heard it, what she was running from. The gobbles echoed through the endless halls, not allowing you to know where it was coming from.

You looked around for any kind of escape, anything high enough that you could still climb on. You time spent with the Hawthornes and built you an expertise in climbing, even when there was almost nothing to climb. There was the tiniest ledge, just enough to fit your foot, so, you began your climb. Arm moving up and over, feet bracing against the wall.

On top of the ledge, your legs shook, almost taking you down to the ground. Avery’s footsteps grew louder as they approached you, the flapping of wings following. She shrieked again, the slapping of her shoes against the ground growing closer together, her legs moving faster.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, her arms pumping as she rounded a corner, coming in to view.

Suddenly, she ran into something. She faced the turkey, its speed slowing. They were at a standstill. Avery versus the turkey. Avery stood proud, trying to cover her obviously shaking hands and legs, her breathing ragged. She licked her lips, staring down the turkey. Taking her eyes off for only a second, she looked up at you, pleading in her gaze.

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare? Help me!” she called out, disturbing the turkey. It gave an aggressive gobble, taking a step toward Avery and flapping it’s wings. She moved backwards, slightly stumbling.

Under you, the wall shook, knocking you off balance. You almost fell, but narrowly caught the ledge with your shaking fingers, her hands almost too sweaty to hold you up. Without any warning, a loud crack came from under you. Avery instinctively ducked down, her arms covering her head. The turkey fell over, it’s body still on the floor, a small hole behind where the turkey had just stood.

It felt like your legs moved without any signals from your brain, nothing was telling you to move but you were.

“Avery!” you said, rushing over to her. You knelt beside her, your hand rubbing up and down her back. “It’s okay, shh, you’re okay,” your voice was gentle. Her body shook as she pulled herself up, wrapping her arms around you.

Footsteps echoed from behind the two of you, and you turned to find Jameson holding one of the Winchester rifles. How fitting. Then, you connected the dots. Secret passage way.

“Avery,” Jameson breathed out, falling down beside you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I scared you.” Similar to Xander earlier that day, he looked more panicked than ever, scooping Avery out of your arms.

“I’m fine,” she said shakily, her breathing still uneven.

“Fine and okay aren’t the same thing, Heiress,” Jameson said, a small, soft, trying-to-be-comforting smile on his face.

Avery took one more deep breath before sitting up, untangling herself from Jameson. “I’m okay. I promise.”

The two sat for a moment, just staring at each other.

“We should probably clean that up,” you commented, loosely referring to the dead turkey a few feet away.

“Yeah,” they sighed together.

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After Oren had come and cleaned the turkey up, you traveled back to you and Grayson’s room, flopping down on the bed next to Grayson and his laptop. You gave a dramatic sigh, finally able to breathe fully.

“What’s that for?” Grayson asked, starting at her collarbone and tracing a finger down your arm into your hand.

“One turkey down,” you began, “six to go.”

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Friday, November 22nd, 2024

Some nights, when even you couldn’t get Grayson to fall asleep, you two resorted to the few other people Grayson felt——not necessarily safe sleeping in a room with——comfortable to sleep in a room with if you were their too. Grayson’s eyes drooped, and you felt so bad. He hadn’t slept much before you had arrived back at Hawthorne House from Harvard, the place where he had betrayed you and left. He didn’t really betray you, just had his own shit to deal with. But, still, it hurt. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever, shadowing his pale face. You also came to the realization that his heightened irritability—Xander’s first name, the purple turkeys—was due to Grayson’s lack of sleep. Poor thing.

You wrapped one of the millions of blankets Xander had in his pile that he called a bed around Grayson, tucking him in snuggly.

“Good night,” you whispered against his ear, giving his cheek a soft kiss.

Xander was also somewhere in the pile, probably cuddled up with Max or some of his stuffed animals.

“Good night to you too, Xan,” you whisper called, a waving hand appearing somewhere underneath the blankets.

Xander had a strange habit of forgetting to close doors. Anywhere he went. Any time. But he especially did when he went to bed. You always assumed he didn’t have much of a night time routine. Well, until Max came around and forced him into a nightly skincare routine. Or maybe Xander just liked to have that small nightlight, just a little childlike comfort.

Lying behind Grayson, your legs wrapped around his waist, your arm draping over him side under his arm. You tried to sleep, you really did, but with the events from today, you couldn’t help your open eyes. Grayson’s hair twirled around your finger, his light snoring, Xanders not-so light snoring, Max wiggling around in her sleep. Everyone in the house was peaceful, but you just couldn’t focus. And when you tried to sleep, you only thought about not sleeping, keeping you awake even longer.

So quiet. So eerily quiet. Nothing like what you were used to sleeping through in Cambridge. Or, at least, your first year when you were required to live on campus. Since then, and kind of to apologize for leaving, Grayson got you a nice house not too far from campus. It was nice and cozy—2 bed, 3 bath, nice finished basement equipped with a bar!—just what you were looking for. It kind of reminded you of the heaps of blankets you were in right now.

One game you enjoyed playing in Xander’s room was Dig In His Weird Blanket Pile And See What You Find! It was kind of like a blind bag: you never know what you’re going to pull out.

You dug your hand in, feeling around until you found something. It was cold, despite the warmth of the blankets, circular, felt like glass. You wretched our hand out of the pile, holding up a small, glass ball. A Fushigi ball? Hawthornes and their weird talents. You put that one back down, digging around for something else. Your fingers caught in something else, pulling out a crochet hook, a single piece of yarn connecting it to a half finished crochet dog that vaguely resembles Tiramisu.

You continued to dig around, finding new random things, some you didn’t even know existed. When your hand was touching the bottom of this pit, the room got lighter, and lighter. The door was creaking open. But Nash wouldn’t be up, he probably would’ve woken Libby up. And why would Jameson or Avery be coming in here at this hour? That left only one thing.

The fucking turkeys.

You froze, your arm still in the sea of blankets, unable to move. Beside you, Grayson shifted, rubbing his head around, his brows furrowing when we couldn’t find your hand.

“Mm,” he whined, his arm reaching to feel around. Your free arm roughly grasped his wrist, stirring him more. “What are you doing…” he trailed off when he saw the panic on your face, the utter fear. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He sat up fully, grabbing your hands. You looked back up at the ledge of the pit until he followed your gaze. He must have noticed the weird amount of light streaming into the room.

Then the gobble came. And another. Were there multiple? Here? Right now?

Like some sort of sleeper agent—literally—Max launched up from where she was sleeping, bringing Xander’s arm with her. Xander stirred too, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“What the fuck was that?” Max whispered, her eyes locked forward as if she wasn’t able to move, that if she did some monster—the turkeys—would come out and attack her.

There was a figure peering over the ledge now, casting a shadow on Max. It’s sickly long neck, that stupid beak, the feathers down the rest of the body. You were only just realizing how terribly inaccurate your hand-turkey drawings had been. It gobbled again, flapping its wings, and jumped down. Max screamed, scrambling out of the pit. You followed, confused and disoriented, the lack of sleep catching up to you. Grayson rushed up after you, his arms going around you.

Xander continued to look around confused. And then he began to, very slowly, climb onto the ledge, wobbling across his room to somewhere by a desk of some sort. “Don’t freak out, you guys. I have something for this.”

Of course he did.

He adjusted the screws or bolts of mechanical things you didn’t understand, paying very close attention to the turkey’s position. He pulled a small lever back, and then let go. It was another one of his weird machines, the ones that take too many steps. The thing ran almost all the way around his room: on the walls, the book ridden ceiling, the floor, even. Only seconds after that lever was released, a ball, in your mind a canon ball, launched from a corner not too far from you, hitting the turkey square in the head.

That drew a gasp from you, Max, and Grayson, all still standing huddled in a corner.

“There,” Xander said, grogginess roughening his voice, “are you better now?”

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You and Grayson laid on the floor of Nash and Libby’s room, Max curled up next to you. The door was locked securely, making sure to pose no danger to the sleeping people inside.

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Saturday, November 23rd, 2024

When your eyes finally opened, they met Nash’s, Grayson standing beside him.

“Mornin’,” he said, patting your shoulder. The surface under you was comfortable, squishy, compared to the floor you, Grayson, and Max had chosen to sleep on last night.

When you finally collected your mind, you focused on where you were, what you knew about the turkeys now. I’m in Libby and Nash’s bed, I think, and two turkeys have been taken down. That leaves only five more, that could be done in a day, right?

“Are you feeling any better?” Grayson asked, his voice soft and quiet.

You completely ignored the question. “Where is Xander?”

A small smile pulled at Grayson’s lips, warming your heart. Your face also heated up thinking about the fact you most likely looked like you crawled out of a dumpster five seconds ago.

“Xan slept in his own room. He’s okay, too,” Grayson assured, running a hand through your hair, getting caught in the knots near the bottom.

“Mm,” you hummed in recognition. You stuffed your face back into one of the pillows, trying to drift off again. Grayson’s hand ran down your back, stopping just above your hips and tracing back up.

It was nice, having him there with you, something to keep you steady in the midst of all these turkey troubles. Your mind drifted off, dreaming of pool what and hot summer days, cameras and candid polaroid pictures, Grayson’s violin and your piano matching in just the right places.

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The next time you woke up, the room was more familiar the things you had dreamed of: playful strings of photos on the wall, his violins hanging with them. It was nice to have that feeling of home in at least one place here.

It was so quiet. Quieter than you had ever heard it. Even in the dead of night you could here Jameson and Avery scurrying around, Grayson taking a swim, Xander working up late on his next project, the steady strum of Nash’s guitar, used to put the babies to bed. Everyone had probably locked themself up in their room, including you. But then where was Grayson?

Deciding it was time for your next quest, you got up, wobbling over to the closet, and then the bathroom, finally getting ready for the day. You didn’t feel like doing much today; just a simple sweater, jeans, and a pair of fluffy socks you pulled out of some looks of clothes you were hiding from Grayson.

After leaving the bathroom, you opened the door to the balcony, the cold air washing over your body. You peered over the railing, the pool water still leaving no sign that Grayson had been there. Strange. Guess the next stop was the music room.

The hallways were especially empty today. Not even a cleaner or security walking around. That’s why the hallways were so quiet. It was eerie walking through the halls, the ceiling too tall now, the walls too close, the hall too long, a shiver creeping up your spine. Your steps quicken, trying to looking for any signs of Grayson. But it was like he just disappeared, gone.

Standing outside of the empty music room, you felt weak, tired too, your lack of sleep finally catching up to you. Then, your ears caught the beginning of a note, followed by another, and another, each played flawlessly, tuned perfectly. Maybe the music room wasn’t so empty. But piano wasn’t exactly Grayson’s forte. Your head peeked in, catching a glimpse of a figure at one of the pianos. A cane leaned up against the bench gave away who it could be. The sound of your steps light, you entered the room, trying not to disturb Nan as she listened to the piano.

“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice as gruff as usual. “You ain’t sneaky.”

Now caught, with no escape, you walk over to the piano, standing on the other end of the bench.

“Sorry to disturb you,” you said. Nan looked over to you, and you were just now realizing where Nash had gotten his many faces from. “Mind if I sit here? I won’t make a peep,” you promised.

“Fine,” she huffed.

You took a seat beside her, gentle to not knock over her cane of the other side. Sitting silently, you watched as the piano keys pressed themselves down, the music following with them.

“You play?” she asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You nodded slowly. “Sorta. I’m rusty though,” you admitted. You placed your hands gently on the piano keys, thinking up a song to play. Her fingers pressed down the key, moving in a familiar rhythm. The occasional press of the wrong key would stop you, making the song choppy. But you couldn’t help to think that those mistakes, the things that might slow you down, just added character.

Nan swayed to the music beside you, matching the rhythm. She seemed to recognize the song, know how to play it, pressing down a key or two on her side when it might have seemed too far from you. It was nice to have this moment. Most of the time, and what had been described of her, Nan wasn’t gentle, she was gruff, she was snorted laughs, she was bored huffs. Or maybe, just maybe, Nan was just Nan.

“You’re good,” her voice seemed softer now, calm “Y’know that, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her finger rested against one of the lower octave note, playing a simple pattern, switching between notes. Her head turned the slightest bit toward you, you could feel it.

“C’mere more often. I can get you to learn some of my favorite songs,” she said. A smile grew on your face, returned with a not so happy look. “Don’t make that face. You’re starting to look like Xander.”

Pad-pad-pad

The hell?

Pad-pad-pad

You leaned over, trying to see on Nan’s side, find where the padding feet were coming from. Riding up next to the two of you, an animal came in, bobbing its head as it walked. The turkey.

“How are you in here?” Nan said at the turkey, and the way she said it made it seem like she actually expected an answer from it.

Gobble

She stared at the turkey, like the stare-down Avery had had with the first turkey. Her hand reached over for the precariously balanced cane.

Poke

“Get.”

Blank stare.

Poke

“Get.”

Blank stare.

“You’re really going to make me up, aren’t you, bastard,” she huffed, standing up and using the piano as leverage.

Her cane swung aimlessly in the air, only hitting the turkey a few times. “Scram!” she shouted at it, watching as it scurried away in her presence.

Bonk

The turkey slammed right into the wall.

Thud

Another loud sound as the turkey hit the ground.

Similar to Nan, you just stared at it, motionless.

“One more turkey down,” you grumbled.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Sunday, November 24th, 2024

Waddling into the kitchen, you jumped up to sit on the counter beside Libby’s chocolate cupcakes.

“Libbbyyy,” you said.

“Yeeeeesss,” she dragged as she carefully frosted a cupcake.

You put on your best puppy eyes, looking at her like a little kid. “Can you make me something for lunch?”

“You’re twenty-two,” someone drawled from behind you. “You don’t need Lib to make you lunch.”

You flicked your hand at Nash, not even turning around to look at him. “Shoo.”

“Excuse me?” Nash said, his voice now right behind you.

Nash walked around the counter, a baby balancing on his hip, taking a ball of cookie dough off of a baking sheet nearby and popping it in his mouth. “I think,” he said around the cookie dough, “you should make your own lunch and let Lib breathe.”

“Thank you, Nash, but I think I can take care of myself.”

The baby was placed on the counter next to you, looking up and smiling at you.

“Hi, there, baby,” you squealed, picking her up and placing her on your lap, moving her arms around to fake punch or lifting them up and down, making her dance. She giggles and squeals, looking around, until her face dropped, looking at the entrance to the kitchen. Following her gaze, your eyes landed on another one of those stupid turkeys.

“Another one?” you whispered, drawing the attention of Nash and Libby.

“Another what-“

The room froze, everyone’s eyes on the turkey. Everything in the room was still, just staring. Until the turkey screamed its battle cry.

“What the hell,” Nash muttered, watching as the turkey ran in circles around the kitchen.

Libby jumped onto the counter watching as the turkey made a b-line toward her. She screeched, grabbing that pan of cookie dough and throwing it, hitting the turkey right on the head. Her hands flew to her mouth, covering it in shock.

“I just killed that turkey,” she mumbled. “I just killed that fucking turkey,” she repeated, her eyes wide.

Across the room, Nash stood staring at Libby. “Good job, Lib,” he said proudly.

“Usually, the turkey in the kitchen is dead,” Jameson said, entering the kitchen. Avery soon followed behind, probably startled by all the commotion.

“Libby, what’s wrong? What was that bang? And most of all, why are you on the counter?” She gave no time to answer any of the questions.

Libby’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to form words.

“Are those turkey cupcakes?” Avery asked, looking to the tray of cupcakes beside Libby.

“I was stress baking!”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Monday, November 25th, 2024

It was quiet again, the hallways. They weren’t empty this time, though, just quiet. Sitting on one of the many benches placed around Hawthorne House, you were reading a book, still too distracted by the turkeys which defeated the purpose of reading. Or what reading was supposed to be doing right now. Your book just wasn’t interesting enough. It couldn’t grab your attention like so many others had before. You thought it could be an escape, but it failed, miserably. Every sound, the rustle of a tree, the audible explosion of one of Xander’s creations, the faint shriek of Grayson’s violin, it all made you jump. When was the next time you’d be accosted by a turkey?

Bark, bark, bark

“Tiramisu!” Xander screeched as he ran after Tiramisu, both of them moving directly toward you.

Tiramisu jumped on the bench beside you, sticking his nose in your nose and then licking all over your face, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Xander!” you said, choppy through your laughter. “Help me!”

Once Xander had gotten to the bench, he opened his arm, scooping up Tiramisu. “I told you to stay by me, missy,” he said, “I said you had to be the Oren to my Avery!”

“You’re using Tiara as your bodyguard?” you laughed in disbelief, the concept of Tiramisu, so tiny next to Xander, being his bodyguard was comical.

Xander head nodded proudly, placing Tiramisu back on the ground. He flopped onto the bench, blowing out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s like this dog doesn’t even know English.”

You snorted. “Xander, you’re not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you…”

A smile grew on his face, looking over at you. “Aren’t you ecstatic to have Katrina here? I know you love her so much.” One of his long, skinny fingers approached you, poking your cheek.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “I don’t know. At least Gigi will be there.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” said Xander. Tiramisu jumped up on the bench, lying on her back and spreading across your and Xander’s laps, all smiling and panting. Your hand instinctively went to his belly, petting him.

Suddenly, a thought came to your mind. “Who takes Tiramisu on walks?”

Xander stared blanking at the cleanly lined trees across the path, his smile fading. “That’s a very good question.” He cocked his head, genuinely lost in thought.

“Oh, my gosh. I don’t know who walks Tiramisu,” he admitted. “I don’t even know if she gets walked.”

The two of you sat, contemplating Tiramisu’s daily schedule, trying to find any space where a walk could fit it.

“She has her morning bath at 8, then she has breakfast at 9:30, every other week at 10:30 she has her manicure,” Xander said. “12:00 she has lunch and then goes to play.”

“Maybe that’s when she gets walked?”

“But that’s play time, not walking. At 12:45, she’s tired and takes her afternoon nap in Libby and Nash’s room, and joins Nash for a doggy guitar lesson and then a doggy piano lesson at 2:00 and 2:30.”

“How does she even play guitar or piano? It’s not like she has fingers,” you asked, thinking of all the possible, stupid, ways that Xander could have come up with.

Xander shot up, intrigued by the opportunity to share his creation. “Okay, so it’s one really big piano, like, each key is a foot wide, and it’s like those ones that you can step on to play it and it’s really fun.”

“What about the guitar?”

“That’s one isn’t really her playing, she just kind of paws at the strings and Nash’s hand…”

“Oh.”

More silence. Tiramisu panting. You pull your phone out, checking the time. 12:19 Perfect timing.

“Perfect timing,” you voiced. “It’s play time.”

Tiramisu shot up, jumping off of your laps and spinning in circles, waiting for you and Xander to play with her.

“Should we play with the long sword today?” Xander joked, standing up and aggressively rubbing Tiramisu’s back.

“For sure,” you said sarcastically, getting up from your own position, closing your book not caring about where you were.

Tiramisu trotted next to you as the group of you walked to one of the many expensive fields scattered around the Hawthorne property. There was actually an area dedicated to Tiramisu, a bucket of toys and beaten up sticks near the entrance to the fenced off land.

He fake threw it a few times, finally letting it go and watching Tiramisu launch after it, a bolt of brown, curly fur.

“We really need to find a time to get her walked,” you sighed.

“Or just ask Nash if she goes on walks.” Xander shrugged slightly, taking the returned stick and catapulting it again. You were surprised that Xander didn’t have a machine for this yet, but you guessed he just really wanted to spend some time with Tiara.

“Christmas is also coming up, maybe we’ll do something fun again like the other year,” reminded Xander.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to do Hawthorne Secret Santa That’s Not At All Secret Santa. “Crazy how me and Tiramisu got each other. She couldn’t even get me a present!”

“She did get you a present,” Xander pouted.

Shooting a glare at him, you crossed your arms. “I proper present. Not a pigeon he found on the driveway.”

A minute passed and Tiramisu still hadn’t returned. She couldn’t have gone far, but surely it had been far enough for you to not see her at all.

Another minute.

Tick, tock

Another minute.

What’s taking so long?

“Tiara?” You called, your voice echoing through the wind. “Tiara? Tiramisu!”

Nothing but trees rustling.

“Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne!” Xander shouted, starting to walk in the direction Tiramisu had last ran to. “Where are you?”

Trudging up the hilly part of Tiramisu’s play area, you peeked to the fall of the hill, two figures running around at the lowest point. You could easily recognize Tiramisu being one of them.

“Tiramisu!” you repeated, running down the hill. Watching as the hyper dog ran around after something, she finally caught up, pouncing on it.

“What is that?” Xander muttered, following you down the hill.

Approaching the writhing animal and Tiramisu, you recognized the long neck, the feathered body, the distorted squabble.

She got another turkey!

You scrambled over to her, rubbing and petting her. “Good girl, Tiara!”

“Yay!!” Xander whooped from behind you, pumping his fists in the air and jumping up and down. “Tiramisu’s a hero!” he chanted.

“Tiramisu’s a hero!” you joined in, jumping around as Tiramisu ran in circles around you.

Two turkeys left. Which, based on this pattern, two more days.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Tuesday, November 26th, 2024

Gigi’s arrival was scheduled for today. And Katrina. Ugh.

Avery was always the one to greet people at the door, as she owned Hawthorne House and didn’t want anyone doing anything for her. With the events of the last five days, Avery had to, reluctantly, bring a whole new group of bodyguards to the door.

You decided to join them, thinking that it would save you from the turkeys that seemed weirdly attracted to you. Your meet up spot was far from the entrance—in some random meeting room one the third floor of Hawthorne House. Maybe turkeys couldn’t climb stairs? It’s only other method of getting to the third floor would be elevator which wouldn’t work very well for them.

“So, Avery,” you said, sidling up into the beside Avery, “how do you think Thanksgiving is going to go this year? Seems pretty eventful already.”

“Not good.” Her head was balanced in her hands, elbows in the table. “Everything has gone to shit because of those stupid turkeys.”

Reassuringly patting her back, you leaned back in your chair. “I think it’ll be fine. Thanksgiving—scratch that, any holiday—here is always a little eventful. Like secret santa the other year.”

“Oh, my god, that was hilarious. Libby got out so fast,” she let out in a laugh.

“Oh! Not really a holiday, but from what I’ve heard of Nash’s bachelor party,” you said. “You know what?” Avery hummed. “I should get Grayson a pair of fresh leather pants for Christmas this year.”

Avery let out a strained giggle, trying to hold it in, before she exploded, throwing her head back and leaning in her chair, almost tipping it over.

“Ms. Grambs,” one of the new bodyguards said, his voice commanding. Your laughter quickly subsided, leaving you and Avery silent. “Ms. Grayson will be here soon. I recommend starting to walk to the entrance in order to get here before she does.”

Avery nodded, standing up from her chair, stretching, and walking over to Oren. You followed her like a lost puppy, standing awkwardly on the side as she tells Oren what the other bodyguard had just said to her.

“Shall we get going?” she offers.

“We shall,” Oren replies flatly.

With what seemed like an entire army of bodyguards behind you, Avery, and Oren, you started your journey, through the windy halls and passageways.

Truly, you were excited to have Gigi over, thrilled, but it was that cat. Katrina. Katrina Katrina. Now, she wouldn’t do anything to you—couldn’t do anything. It was just that hunger way she looked at you, her eyes forming into slits as she glared at you from perched beside Gigi.

“I can just tell you’re thrilled to have Katrina over,” Avery said, practically reading your mind.

“Me and Grayson already had this conversation,” you huffed, shaking your head at the ground.

Avery just laughed, following your gaze to the ground. “It just,” she paused. “Katrina isn’t even scary.”

“It’s not that!” you burst. “It’s not that she herself is scary, it’s just that way she looks at me like I’m her next meal. Like I’m one of the turkeys!”

Avery seemed very amused by your argument, just smirking that smile that told you she had spent one too many hours with Jameson.

“Maybe you are her next meal,” Avery teased, poking your ribs.

“You’d just let me get scarfed down by that cat?” you scoffed. “Wow. What a fake friend.” You crossed your arms, dramatically turning away from Avery and picking up your speed.

Avery just skipped after you, jumping on your back and holding your sleeve to keep you close by. “I was just kidding, jeez,” she laughed, watching as a smile broke out on your face. “See! You aren’t even mad at me!”

You joined her giggling, knocking into each other as you walked through the halls, laughing over stupid stuff that probably wasn’t even funny.

“Oh, my god!” Avery jumped up. “There’s something I have to tell you about! Okay, let’s set the scene, I’m in my room, it’s an unusually quiet night. Jameson isn’t back yet and his curfew, set by me because we had an event early the next morning, was way behind us. Hours behind.”

“Damn. Grayson would never. Could,” you corrected.

“I know! I’m getting tired, it’s like twelve and I’m just planning on going to bed by myself, cold and lonely,” she continued.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, pulling you in. “You could have just cuddled with me,” you said with a wink.

“Aww,” she shimmed her shoulders against you. “Okay, back to my story! The lights are off, I’m almost asleep, until the door finally creaks over, Jameson standing in the doorframe. To be funny, I pretended to sleep, waiting for him to shake me awake or something. But all that happens is that Jameson crawls into bed next to me— Oh! I forgot to mention he was drunk. Yeah, so, he crawls up next to me and just whispers in my ear,” she lowered her voice into a whisper, “‘I have a secret…’”

You recognized that, something Avery had mentioned one time when she was talking about her mom. “Doesn’t that have something to do with your mom..?” you guessed, shrinking away in case you were wrong.

“Yes! At this point, I’m intrigued, waiting for Jameson to whisper whatever this secret was into my ear. And what he said is un-fucking-believable. He says: ‘When me and Nash and Grayson and Xander were younger, we tried starting a band, and we uploaded a bunch of videos to YouTube—it was a private account—but someone hacked in and made it public. So, somewhere on the internet, you can find video of all of us dressed up real funny and singing a bunch of shitty songs.’”

Your mouth drops open, trying to picture a younger Grayson on some makeshift stage at Hawthorne House, performing some pop or rock song.

Avery just laughs and smiles at your shocked expression. “That’s exactly how I felt on the inside,” she giggled, clearing her throat to continue her story. Again. “Like any sane person, of course I go in my computer the next day, and search up their little band. It wasn’t difficult, even if I didn’t have a name, and lord was it funny. Jameson on electric guitar, Nash playing some regular guitar, Xander on drums, and Grayson for vocals.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not!”

“She isn’t!” a new voice pops in. In front of you stood Gigi, Hello Kitty suitcase almost exploding, mostly like being packed with cat toys. Katrina was sitting next to her, way too professional for a cat.

“So?” Gigi lifts her eyebrows. “What is she not kidding about?”

You and Avery grinned at each other, slowly turning to Gigi. “Your brother and his brothers’ attempt at a boy band,” you both said.

Gigi gasped dramatically, a smile stretching across her face. “You’re kidding!”

“She’s not!”

“I’m not!”

Not too far, as you’d expect, was Oren, the smallest hint of a smile in his face. He noticed you staring, gesturing a nod toward Avery. “She isn’t lying. I was there.”

Through the commotion of laughter and conversation, it would’ve been hard to hear anyone, anything if something went wrong. Or if you had a visitor.

“Ow!” Gigi winced, placing a hand on her hip and rubbing it. “What was that?” She jumped again. “Ow! What the…” She looked down to her left, finding the perpetrator.

“A turkey?” she asked, her voice a mix of shocked confusion and fear. And then full fledged fear as she realized that there was a turkey trying to get her. “It’s a turkey!” she squeaked, running over and trying to climb Oren like a jungle gym.

Noticing her alert, he gets right in to bodyguard mode, looking around for the threat. He landed on the turkey, reaching somewhere on his hip.

“You two, move back. Now,” he ordered, not wasting a second once we had. Just like the first turkey taken down, a loud bang rang out, the turkey thudding on the floor after.

A new commotion broke out after the shot was fired, filling the foyer with a sound too loud for you. Quiet was something you were used to now. It wasn’t too nothing, it just was. But this, it broke all of that quiet.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Wednesday, November 27th, 2024

There was one last turkey. One final turkey before this was all over. Like you had the day the turkey war began, everyone was gathered in one of the dining room to eat lunch, but instead, it was a meeting.

“Okay, everyone!” Avery commanded from the head of the table, standing up from her chair. “I have brought you here today to discuss our game plan to take down the final torturous turkey. I have devised a role for each of you.”

A list appeared on a screen that seemed invisible until now.

Avery and Y/N: Gamemasters [;)] - Will create solutions and test products alongside our Builders.

Libby and Nash: Healers (Lots of baked goods…) - Helps in case of emergencies.

Jameson and Gigi: Fuel - Food, drinks, whatever. Most likely working beside our Healers.

Grayson and Oren: Logistics (of sorts) - Thinks about how our plan may actually work, what might go wrong, and how to fix it.

Xander and Max: Builders (you’ve got this, Max!) - Builds our solution if needed, tests it too.

Oren’s Men: Capturers - searches for the turkey and relays messages to Oren.

Tiramisu & Katrina: Our Last Resort Weapons - If all else fails, we have them to use.

“Working in these teams will help our plan work better. Each of us being alone may cause too much stress or tension. Having multiple people on a job will also move things alone faster,” Avery states. “Lots of these roles will work with other roles, example, Gamesmakers will often work with the Logicians and Builders. Because of our collaboration, we’ll need a method of communication. Phones may be laggy and are very reliant on battery, which some of us don’t value.” Avery shot a glare at Jameson. “So, each of you will be given a walkie-talkie.” She looked to Oren, motioning for a box on the floor ten feet from the table. He lifted the box, walking around the table and distributing one to each member.

“Now, shall we spread out? Our Healers: Libby, Nash, and our Fuel: Jameson, and Gigi in the kitchen. The Gamemakers, Logistics, and Builders follow me. Capturers spread out and look for the turkey. Our final weapons will also be with our healers and fuel. Go!”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Nothing was working. Each plan failed by just a little bit, and when you tried fixing it, it failed again. Everyone was tired. Sitting there for three hours trying to think of something, trying it , and failing. No matter how much food and drinks you were given, that adrenaline from before was starting to fade. We also haven’t got any word on where the turkey could be.

You lay on the floor, head resting on Grayson’s chest, his hand running through your hair, down your back, and back up.

“We can’t give up,” Avery said, sitting up from her defeated starfish on the floor.

“But there’s only one more option left,” you groaned.

“Katrina and Tiramisu.”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

“Oren,” a distorted voice came from his walkie-talkie, “we’ve got’em. In Alexander’s Wing. He was standing out front of Alexander’s room, almost got in. Couldn’t find him for a while; place’s a mess.”

From across the room, you watched an exaggerated frown form in Xander’s face.

“Time to move out,” Oren ordered, leading the way.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Luckily for you, every hallway of Xander’s wing was filled to the brim with weird trinkets and big machine pieces. Hidden behind a long table which was most likely used to hold fancy decorations at one point, everyone crouched, covered by the new less fancy things piled on the table.

“Xander, you’ve really got to clean up your mess,” Nash said, that mother hen coming out of him.

Xander waved a dismissive hand in his face. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll make Grayson do it then.” Xander’s worst fear: someone possibly messing up his perfectly messy set up with their perfectly clean organization skills. Which Grayson excelled at.

Xander’s head turned slowly toward Nash, his eyes narrowed. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” He punctuated every word, but it was difficult to take Xander seriously sometimes.

“You know damn well I would dare,” Nash chuckled, meeting Xander’s eyes, steady and even, not even a hint of intimidation.

“Enough with the bickering,” Avery demanded. “Do you guys remember the plan?”

Avery’s head spun around, looking at everyone, landing on Libby and Max frantically shaking their heads. With a sigh, Avery explained the plan. Again. “We send you in as bait,” Avery pointed to you, “and wait for the turkey. Once it tried to attack, we jump out and attack it. If nothing else works, we send out Tiramisu and Katrina. Now do you got it?”

The silent agreement was enough for Avery, sending you out to take your place across from the turkey. You felt like Avery or Nan, staring down the turkey, waiting for any movement from it. The tension built, heart racing under the gaze of everyone, everything. This probably looked so stupid: you, standing in front of a turkey, practically have a staring contest, while everyone else was scattered around the room hidden behind piles of shit Xander needed to clean up.

You knew that even if the turkey did attack you, which was what this plan relied on, you’d be safe. Each person was equipped with a weapon of their choice. Gigi was keeping Katrina back, Oren had his gun, Avery held her knife, steady in her fingers. Jameson had a finished bottle of wine, Xander held Tiramisu back, Max had been nervously gripping her wrench before, Libby had a baking sheet, Nash had a whole goddamn guitar, and, lastly, Grayson firmly held one of the long swords. None of these people would let you get hurt, even if it was by accident every single one of them would feel bad, like it was their fault.

But now, standing in front of the turkey, you have to put all that behind. Face this stupid thing head on.

It finally made a sound, a distorted gobble. You braced for impact at the sound of a squeal coming from somewhere in the room, but it never came. When your eyes opened, a streak of light brown blew past you. Was it the turkey? It was only until that same distorted squabble cried out that you realized that either Katrina or Tiramisu. Based on the fact that Katrina would probably enjoy seeing you being eaten by a turkey, you expected to find Tiramisu wherever the flash had gone to. On one side of the room, the opposite side, you heard a whine. So it wasn’t Tiramisu.

The sound of something being dragged across the floor drew your attention back to the other side of the room. Katrina moved slowly toward you, dragging the turkey in mouth toward you. She dragged it to your feet, stopping, sitting very professionally, looking up at you and flashing one of those strange smiles that cats can pull off. She nudged the turkey with her nose, sitting back up a pawing at it.

“Katrina!” Gigi shouted, her voice a mix of anger and admiration. “What was that? You weren’t supposed to go until I told you to!” she scolded, picking Katrina up.

Katrina looked up at her with those innocent eyes, nuzzling in Gigi’s neck. Gigi huffed out a sigh, giving up on trying to lecture Katrina into listening.

“Well,” Avery said, her voice holding a confusing emotion, “that was the final turkey. It’s over.”

The room broke out into a cheer, even Oren was smiling, but the only one standing still, in the middle of it all was Avery. Weaving through everyone, you walked up to Avery, taking one of her hands.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to catch her gaze.

She shrugged. “Sure.”

You gave her that look that Nash always gave you (you were still trying to master it), cocking a brow at her (another thing you’d learned!). “What’s wrong? You sad there’s no game anymore?”

Avery stayed quiet, swaying with you when you wrapped your arms around her. “I guess,” she said shamefully.

“I swear you’re starting to sound more and more like Jameson every day,” you teased, poking her in the ribs this time. “Now, come on, turn that frown—“you flashed a smile”—upside down.”

Taking both of her hands, you forced her to dance with everyone else, swaying around the room until she finally gave in.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Thursday, November 28th, 2024

There was a singular turkey on the large table, making it look small. Everything else was normal, and you knew damn well that with a snap of her finger Avery could have a thousand more turkey and make this year’s turkey amount normal. But she didn’t. And it felt like home. Watching everyone argue over how much turkey everyone would get, fighting over the last pieces.

Your hand searched around under the table, meeting Grayson’s and wrapping your fingers around his, leaning your head against his shoulder. A smile, unknowing smile grew on your face, watching everything, so perfect.

Maybe now you would try a little harder to make this place feel like home.

a/n: WOOOOOOOOO!!!! this took, like, over a week to write it’s actually insane. and the end still seems sort of rushed 😣😣 but i’m gonna leave it and maybe come back to it later. because of the rush, i don’t care if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proofread……..

[riddles-n-games]

That Night In Prague Rant

Let me start off by saying Hannah and Toby's story was amazing and heartbreaking, Libby and Nash were also sweet and supportive of one another, Xander is awesome at giving emotional depth to others even in the strange circumstance of tackling, and Secret Santa was quite literally a blast. But there's one story I haven't mentioned yet, have I? You know which one since it's the literal title to this rant/critique.

To get the basic pleasantries out of the way, I loved the promise ring scene, the way Jameson admires Avery lighting up and wanting to see the world through her eyes, the fact he wrote her postcards, and Avery's protectiveness of him. That's it. Great. Now we can get to the real stuff. My dear Jennifer Lynn Barnes, when you announced this book back in February during the month of romance, I recall that this book promised to deliver on ROMANTIC stories and showing us how a Hawthorne man loves. Why the heck did you keep trying to insert every possible wink wink nudge nudge moment possible in Avery's POV then?

When she stated Avery was gonna have a POV again, I was excited but I wasn't sure if I should leap for joy. See, given how Averyjameson were portrayed in the last book, I was somewhat disappointed since I really wanted to see Avery through Jameson's eyes in a more romantic light. It was an eyeroll, unfortunately, and what a missed chance for a wedding dress ref in the race outfit scene since he gave her a promise ring.

However, people were saying, ah, it's Jameson, he's a teenage boy. And ok, I did bite my tongue after that because alright, that's just him (though I am still bitter about his lack of development in TBH), but that wasn't the case with Avery. She's my girl, I can always rely on her, right? Three books of build up with a pretty solid character voice made her who she became in TFG. Cool, I was ready to go back. And as I said so many times before, she gave Jameson depth which helped us see what so many did not and I loved how she didn't let him get away with certain things. She was sensible.

WTF was this then? This is not Avery Kylie Grambs. This is A Very Random Imposter (you come up with the anagram). Imagine my fricken surprise when out of nowhere Jameson As A Girl.

The crimes of the story: "after a lengthy and not quite G-rated negotiation" (WT actual F), "like his body wasn't tense in all the right ways", "smile of his made me want to do things", “I would let him demonstrate all the many, many reasons he had to be that smug", "His search had been... thorough" (????).

This sounds so cringey and unlike Avery. It felt like JLB was trying to force Max and Jameson and Rohan into her POV. Clearly after only two years of not being in her original character's POV and changing through 5 main characters (which was a horrible idea in the first place), she's managed to mish-mash her only properly developed character into sounding like another person.

The innuendos here are the worst I've seen. Avery has never been crass or sexually charged so why start that now? We already have characters that take on that route and now you're trying to ruin Avery with that? PUH-lease. Jameson was enough in TBH and now you're trying to ruin my girl? NO. Absolutely NOT. If JLB wanted to implement this in the og trilogy, then it should have been done earlier but no, Avery was never that girl and she shouldn't be now.

This isn't and cannot be listed as character growth in the slightest because if she sounded the same after a year in TFG post THL and also sounded like her normal self in Secret Santa which is in the same book as TNIP, there should be no reason why she sounds like this here. It ruins the continuation in her character POV which is something that at this point should be solid as stone. Not to mention, not everything works for everyone and that's ok. While I hate it, it makes more sense in Jameson's POV than hers. In Avery's POV, I cringe at it because it sounds so unnatural for her and feels like I'm looking at someone trying to fit into a crowd they just don't mesh with.

Three books solidified that. Why else did we fall in love with TIG in the first place? Partly because of who Avery was and who she became over the course of the trilogy. She stood out amongst the crowd. Did she have a similar way of thinking about puzzles like Jameson? Yes. Did she have a different approach to romance? Yes. Did she help Jamie become a more sensible guy? Yes! Was their flirty banter fun and interesting? Always. That's part of what made me love them so much in the first place but it shifted so suddenly that now they're sounding like Savannah and Rohan.

In October, when we had the preview of more chapters, I immediately noted this sounds like a very different Avery, either older or an alternate universe version of her. If she wants to do this with Rohannah, go ahead; they're a new budding romance so that has room for whatever she didn't use in other ones but leave Averyjameson as we've known them to be for three novels that solidified who they are. I know other romances should be given a chance, I never said that shouldn't be the case but if I'm being given the chance to see my favorite ship being in the spotlight, then do it right one last time. You have three books as your guideline.

Anyways, I'm dissatisfied so I will be doing a rewrite of TNIP since this is a shorter thing to take care of than a whole novel. Have a great day and thanks for reading. Fics will be out at some point, God, so much real life work to do.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part Two

Summary: Billy's world comes crashing around him when the girl he once called a friend returns to London | Word Count: 4k~ | Warnings below the cut!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Taglist | Series Masterlist

Warnings: angst, mentions of sexual intercourse, mentions of terrorism, toxic relationship with a parent, insinuations of neglect

Billy couldn’t relax the entire evening.

He felt his leg shaking incessantly beneath the table of the booth they were sitting at. Feeling, for the first time in a while, small and insignificant as he sat cramped in the corner next to the wall, having nursed the pint Paddy had bought several rounds ago. 

But he felt like he couldn’t move. 

She sat right next to him, her face alight with happiness like nothing had ever happened as she spoke animatedly with their old friends, with Libby at her side as well giving the heart eyes to Abi across the sticky table.

Billy fiddled with the soggy coaster, his fingers idly picking at the frayed edges, reminding him of that moment he’d seen her across the assembly hall all those years ago, her own friends then turning their backs to her, heedless of the empty and unimportant feeling they instilled in her. 

Why did that memory stick?

Perhaps it was a kind of irony. 

For he sat, completely disenfranchised, their elated conversation now sounding very much like that squelch when you twist the dagger inside someone, pushing between their ribs in such a fatally searing way. 

Her voice, her laugh, her smile.

Why was she pretending as if nothing happened?

He only raised his gaze when he saw her move, leaving her denim jacket on the seat as she slid out the booth with her bag over her shoulder. Nothing lingered but her perfume, which Billy recognised as not the same as the Charlie RED she always used to spray whenever she came bounding out the changing rooms after PE.

But for some reason it still felt nostalgic.

He watched her walk away, his chest twisting painfully.

Until Libby jabbed him in the ribs, giving him a pointed look, “what you all mardy for?” 

“If one more person calls me fucking mardy I really will be”, Billy rolled his eyes, emptying his pint, that by now was flat and bitter. Slamming it down to the table in a way that surprised both Harry and Paddy on the booth opposite.

“Out”, he gestured with his head, shuffling along the bench, “I need a fag”.

Shuffling a cigarette out the packet he kept squashed in his back pocket, he felt his mates’ confused gaze on the back of his head. And he didn’t even make it past the table before Libby hissed ‘tetchy’, furrowing her brows at Abi.

He knew it was late, as by now the once raging beams of sunlight were now touching the spaces between the houses in the distance in a sort of sombre, mellow orange colour, taking the bright blue sky with it. Shrouding the starless night above the pub into darkness.

Still, the crispness of the evening was a welcome one to the heat on the back of his neck. One that he’d not felt in a long time.

The irritation that had begun with the lack of Becky’s text, had now been replaced with one that ached in a different place, deep between his ribs, jabbing sharply like when you’re out of breath, panting with your hands on your knees, and unable to swallow air down your throat. 

“Fuck’s sake”, he muttered shallowly, the cigarette pressed between his lips, several frustrated clicks of his cheap lighter later.

“Graduated from the bike sheds then?”

He lifted his gaze somewhat, down the creaky, steel stairs of the fire escape, spotting her leaning against the wall, blowing smoke from between her soft lips and letting the soft breeze take it away from her. Like nothing toxic could ever just sit around her.

Her eyes glimmered against the low and dim light, and she had one hand on her own arm, covering her goosebumps.

There was a subtle look of urge in her gaze, one he didn’t miss. He was too perceptive for his own good, especially when it came to her.

He felt his breath get caught in his chest, swallowing painfully, hearing her speak to him again.

She pulled her lighter from her other hand, tapping her fingernails against it, “Come on. I don’t bite”.

Taking the careful and quiet steps towards her felt like walking into a field, not knowing if you were going to step on a mine or not. Like one wrong move, and that kind, understanding and warm expression would shift viciously into disdain, hatred and disgust. 

He wasn’t sure he could handle it if she hated him. Truly hated him.

When he was right beside her, she felt so small, as she had then too. A part of him inside began to unfurl as she had to move her head to look up at him, still holding the lighter out to him.

“Ta”, he replied in a sort of whisper, his blue eyes tearing away from her, unable to say or do much else than just light his own cigarette.

She watched the features of his face illuminated behind his hand as he does, his eyelashes lit very much like his blonde, floppy hair when he’s looking towards the sun. The end of it breathes red as he takes a long inhale from it, before sighing the smoke from his full, pink lips.

“How’s your mum?” she asked, idly trying to make conversation. Knowing Billy, his social battery had already run dangerously low by now, sapped even more so by her presence.

He shrugged, “Fine. Same as always”, he answered dispassionately, “Lana’s been in the Met for a bit now”.

“Yeah, I heard”, she smiled, but it fell when she realised he wasn’t even looking at her. As if unable to face this ghost of his past that had remained a ghost for so long. 

“Mum tell you?”

She shook her head, “No, Libby came up to see me sometimes”.

There it was. The guilt. The heavy feeling deep in his heart.

He felt that she'd grown into the woman he saw in front of him, without him knowing. Without caring enough to implore.

It's not that he hadn't cared.

But then, what was it?

"How about you?" he asked, barely turning to her, "your mum".

He watched the way her face fell, her eyes losing all shine, and lips turned down into a grimace almost.

Just like the way she always had.

At the mention of her mum.

"Dunno. Haven't seen her yet", she replied dispassionately, tapping the ash from her cigarette and watching the embers drift around their legs.

She felt a faint flutter of panic as their eyes met. Seeing his expression, in what she perceived was judgement at the relationship she had with her only remaining parent.

“Don’t look at me like that, Billy”, she muttered, turning away to bring her own cigarette to her lips again, not half as enthusiastic about the habit as Billy was. 

The truth was, and she would hate it if he said it out loud, he somewhat pitied her.

Billy cleared his throat awkwardly, "Enjoy your course?"

"Yeah, it was good".

"Psychology?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

She smiled sadly, and shook her head, knowing that he'd mixed up what she and Becky had studied.

"History".

He tipped his head, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks, "oh, right".

He heard her laugh through her nose, dropping her cigarette to the floor and lightly stubbing it out with her shoe.

He caught a waft of her delicate perfume as she moved to brush past him, the heat blossoming again to his neck at the idea of not seeing her face.

"When are you going back up?"

She was covering her arms from the chill, now with both hands, as she looked back at him. For a moment she saw the panicked, hopeful expression he wore, before he shifted again into someone she didn't know.

"What?"

He swallowed hard before asking again, reaching up to rub his neck, "When are you back going up…to Manchester?"

He swore he saw her shiver.

"I'm not going back up", she replied simply.

And now he felt himself shiver. His body flooded with a chill.

"You're…back here?"

She nodded, swallowing thickly as if to hold back tears, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Why did she feel the urge to say she was sorry, as if she was encroaching on Billy's territory when he'd least expected it?

She felt like an outsider.

And even though she was several steps up that creaky, metal staircase, compared to him, she felt so small.

But then again, he'd always felt big to her.

When she stepped back inside the stifling aura of the pub, she forced a smile to her face, grabbing her denim jacket, "I should get home".

Paddy raised his eyebrows, his head heavy with the several pints he'd had catching up with him, leaning closely to Harry.

"You driving?"

"Walking", she replied, pulling her hair from beneath her jacket.

"What? No! Billy's dropping us all home anyway, he's got his pussy wagon parked outside", Libby giggled drunkenly, "if you ask him I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Don't want you walking anyway".

"Oh, no, really it's fin-"

"Hey Billy!", Libby clocked him as he came back in, the scent of tobacco radiating off him, his cheeks flushing with heat as his skin acclimatised, "room for another one?"

Billy looked between the girls with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like he couldn't find words.

"Um-uh, I mean, yeah?"

"You're a star. Come on, don't be mardy", Libby grinned at her horrified expression.

All of their friends, in their drunken states, were unable to detect the trepidation and discomfort in either of them.

Or rather if they did, they didn't care.

"Get home safe!" Libby shouted to Harry and Paddy as they stumbled up the kerb, Harry's arm slung over his shoulder, giggling like schoolboys.

"Oh! Oh! Abi, fuck me har-" Paddy mocked at Libby before Harry's inevitable palm slapped over his mouth.

It was no secret that whenever there was alcohol involved, Libby and Abi were literally joined at the hip, often both hips once the doors closed. But even now, Harry himself couldn't hide the bright laughter at Libby's horrified expression.

She'd tried to move quickly to the back of Billy's Vauxhall, intent on giving him his space after what had happened earlier. But Abi slipped in the other side first and eyed her in faux-suspicion, drunkenly pointing the finger at her.

"You're not Libby…", he slurred.

"Jesus, Abi, if your mum could see you now", she laughed quietly.

"Yeah his mum still thinks he's a virgin and doesn't drink so", Libby retorted, slipping past her into the spot next to Abi, who curled up to her, sighing at her fingers through his raven, black hair.

She didn't miss the mischievous expression Libby gave her, wiggling her eyebrows at the front seat.

Passenger seat it is, then.

She sighed as she slid in, Billy already in the driver's seat, one knee bouncing nervously.

"Billy, your car…fucking filthy…", Abi slurred.

It was clear how quickly he shut up when Billy gave him a pointed look in the rearview mirror, "you wanna walk home, or what?"

"Your car is lovely, Billy", Libby added, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing.

"Hm"

The car didn't sound it's best, to be fair. He even had to push on the horn harder than anticipated when they passed Harry and Paddy walking home to say goodbye. It was so battered it even seemed to dip as the drunken couple shifted around in the back seat.

And the atmosphere in the front couldn't have been any colder.

She smoothed her hands over her legs, to try and lessen the goosebumps. And everytime Billy reached to change gears, she felt her heart leap into her chest.

One would be mistaken they were strangers.

But strangers wouldn't be so tetchy around one another. 

It was more awkward, even as Billy pulled up to a red light, the warmth of it illuminating his sharp features and pooling little red orbs into his baby blue eyes. She'd sometimes look over, seeing him stroke his mouth and chin nervously, and could hear the faint sound of stubble against his skin.

She pretended she was looking somewhere else when he caught her gaze once.

She thought she knew how to read him so well. But now, she wasn't so sure.

The sound of his creaky handbrake tore her from her thoughts. That and the shrill sound of Libby's overexcited voice, her bright bleached hair shimmering in the moonlight.

"Abi, for fucks sake, arms around me, c'mon!" 

How she managed to drag her boyfriend out was beyond them both, and she smiled warmly. 

"Ta, Billy! See you both soon!"

Libby took the warmth and airiness with her, plunging them both into what felt like ice water. The car dropped a few degrees with their seconds of silence, only broken by Billy clearing his throat and putting the car in gear.

"Your mum's?" he asked.

She only nodded before finding it in herself to reply, quietly.

"Yeah, please".

The rest of the drive realistically was not more than a few minutes, but fuck, it felt like a lifetime.

Her eyes faintly followed the surroundings as they passed them in darkness. They even drove past Cranstead Fields, and she recognised the tree they used to sit under, shrouded in a childhood long gone.

He kept the car running as he pulled up to her house, and he could tell she was thinking deeply as she appeared to have not even realised. 

Billy watched her shrink into herself once she looked up and saw the front door of her childhood home, the PVC scratched and the letterbox wrapped shut with gaffer tape.

He knew that look.

He opened his mouth, to offer if she wanted to stay at his, to crash on his sofa or something. But thought better of it.

She sighed and moved to open the passenger side.

"You moving out soon?"

She looked at him, as if surprised he'd bothered to say anything.

"I've got a place, but…collecting the keys in a few days", she replied.

He thought she sounded more and more like a child the more syllables she uttered in front of him. Scared once again to go home to her mother, seeing the lights on in the living room, with the lace curtains twitching.

"Thanks anyway, Billy", she said solemnly.

And so Billy watched her walk away from him yet again, admiring all the things about her he couldn't find the humility in himself to admit he'd missed.

She was looking down into her bag, searching for keys, when the flood of light illuminated the weeded concrete path and the silhouette of her mother swallowed her whole yet again.

He gave a quick wave to her mum. But it was nowhere near as forcibly polite as their interactions as teenagers. As if, her mum saw Billy as a man, and men were tainted in her view.

He wondered if she hated her daughter purely because of her resemblance to her dad.

Billy only drove away when he completed the routine.

Wait 30 seconds.

Listen out for the slamming of doors.

And watch with bated breath, and a sigh of relief as her bedroom light switched on.

“What time do you call this!”

She sighed, walking through the living room, that same musty, damp smell surrounding her senses and giving her perfume a run for its money. 

“You can’t just waltz in whenever you bloody like! I suppose you want me to do your washing, ironing and wipe your arse for you as well?!”

She always did this. Pretending like a conversation never happened. 

For someone who supposedly hated confrontation and just ‘wanted some bloody peace and quiet’, she’d conveniently forget discussions ever happened, so that it would become a disruption to her otherwise perfect life without her daughter around.

She didn’t even hang up her jacket. 

She knew the quickest route to her bedroom. That feeling of dread on the way there. 

“Mum, please, can we not do this”.

“Oh right, it’s never your fault, is it”, she barked back, pushing herself off the sofa, tugging her magenta dressing gown around herself, “you should be grateful I’ve let you come back!”

She tried not to look her in the eye as she made for the stairs, “It’s not like I’m staying”.

“Oh, right, so you’re just gonna leave me? Who fed you and put a roof over your head?”

She climbed the stairs, her mum’s voice fading with every step, and with the distance put between them, the voice eventually died down.

“Just like your bloody father. None of me in you at all”, her mum practically spat the words out.

“Well thank god for that”, she muttered, disappearing behind her familiar bedroom door, shutting out the sound of her mum’s huffs of annoyance and subsequent dramatic exit to the living room.

She could’ve wept when she crossed the threshold into her childhood bedroom, the nostalgic smell of her old Charlie RED hitting her instantly. The bed sheets were still lilac with little white flowers, the bed made exactly how it had been when she’d left for uni all those years ago. 

Her lightshade, once illuminated, was caked in dust. 

Clearly her mum hadn’t been in here either. 

She pulled the window to, the PVC squeaking, watching in a state of surprise as Billy’s Vauxhall drove away from the front of her house. 

A slight smile tugged at her face, briefly void of that lingering sadness and longing she’d felt all evening.

Even though he was only 14 years old, the prickly beginnings of a beard around his jawline and his bean-pole-esque physique made him look older. He stood there, school tie loosened around the several buttons open at the collar, smiling up at her with tilted lips, one hand shoved into his pocket.

Her mum would know if she opened a window, so she just blinked at him and smiled through the double glazing.

‘You okay?’ he mouthed from the street below, his face becoming slightly serious. 

No.

‘I’m okay’ she mouthed back, nodding as if to emphasise her lie.

But she saw it on his face. He didn’t believe her. Never had whenever they did this little ritual. 

And yet he still did it, on the off chance that one day, she’d crack and let her stubbornness slip.

They waved sweetly at each other and she watched his tall form walk idly down the lit street, past the street sign, she finally found it in her heart to sigh, tears feeling hot behind her eyes as she pressed them shut.

She looked down at her phone. 18:25. Only thirteen hours until she would see him again. 

The hours never passed quickly enough.

Her phone buzzed then with a text as if by some silly coincidence. 

She laughed breathily, a wistful sense of loss crashing over her. Sarky bitch.

As if on auto-pilot, Billy drove the short route back to his flat, but at the last second, did an illegal U-turn in the direction of his parent’s house.

He couldn’t face being there again. Where all her stuff was. Facing his mum and dad was easier than the possibility of facing Becky. Whether she was even there or not, it didn’t really matter.

Billy’s mum turned her head, wearing her marigolds and her greying hair up in a ponytail, “Billy duck, you alright? Wasn’t expecting you here”.

He sighed, toeing off his shoes by the porch, “Yeah, sorry to pop in like this so late”.

His mum saw the tired look on his face, his shoulders slouched like the weight of the world was on them. And she needn’t ask him how he was, she could see as clear as anything what was on his mind.

“Cuppa?”

Billy nodded, leaning against the worktop, “Go on then”.

His childhood home hadn’t changed, and he often (especially recently) popped by not only to drop in on his parents, but to in some way escape the tight clutches of adulthood and just…pretend for a while.

That he was a kid again.

When everything seemed so much easier.

"Dad in?" he asked carefully over the hiss of the kettle.

But his mum just gave him a look, "Still out".

It was nearly midnight, and yet, most nights his dad didn't get back home from the social club until gone 2.

Nobody wanted to tell him he had a problem. He had no doubts his mum and Lana had already tried.

The tea tasted of metal and lime scale, and it was PG Tips but he supposed it was better than nothing.

"You staying here tonight?"

Billy nodded once, "If that's alright".

"Course. I've just washed the sheets", his mum smiled at him, her eyes running up and down him as if she couldn't believe her tiny little boy was this tall figure in front of her.

"Should I ask?" 

Billy was quiet, for a long moment, "don't think you need to".

She tutted, "I won't keep going on, Billy. It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes, but you know as well as I do she's never been very nice to you".

He could've rolled his eyes.

As if he didn't know that already.

"I'm aware".

"Did you at least have fun tonight?" she asked, earning a confused glance, "can smell you've had a pint".

It flashed through his mind so quickly, he barely recognised it.

Or rather she did.

"Graduated from the bike sheds then?"

Her fucking smile. Jesus.

For some reason, the sadness he saw in her eyes, had his heart rate skyrocket.

"Yeah, um…was good, ta", he said awkwardly.

"Oh! I heard from Abi's mum your mates back! We should have her over for tea, wouldn't that be nice?"

His mum sounded so excited to see her, he didn't have the heart to explain what happened. He didn't know if he'd ever have the courage.

"Which reminds me, I've still got Mrs Ahmed's tupperware, be a duck and take it next time you see Abi won't ya?"

He nodded, not really listening.

Now wasn't the time to say anything, he thought.

He just wanted to curl up in the bed sheets that smelled of fake jasmine, look up at the ceiling and forget about the world.

And that hopefully Becky's stuff would be gone from the flat by morning.

Maybe this time, he'd be able to stick to it.

Maybe this time he wouldn't beg her to come back. Unable to stand the loneliness.

Billy was barely down the stairs of his family home before his phone was blowing up with notifications. Still all dizzy and bleary from sleep, despite being almost midday, he blinked a few times before looking down at it, thumbing through the wall of names and exclamations with burning eyes.

Billy, is your sister okay??? Text me, please!! Hope you're okay bud. Jesus fucking Christ, please PLEASE tell me your sister is alright!!

A BBC news header flashed at the top of his screen.

Six dead and three injured in suspected terror attack at…

In the hallway, he saw his mum pulling her coat on in a hurry, fannying about (as his dad would say) looking for her keys, looking completely frazzled.

"Mum?"

Her eyes were panicked and wide, "Christ, Billy, sorry, I'm just going to pick u-"

"Eh?"

His dad suddenly brushed past him from behind, keys in hand, his cheeks pink like he was still a bit drunk from the night before but had been forced into action.

"It's Lana, Bill”.

God he fucking hated when his dad called him that. No matter how many times he told him not to call him Bill, or William or Will-

“Nut’s dead”.

He gripped his phone tightly, as if putting a feeling to something.

Nut was dead.

But his sister.

Lana.

Was she okay? Was she hurt?

Had the day come where he'd have to carry her coffin on his shoulder?

He remembered shouting that at her when she said she'd be forming a bomb squad with the Met.

His phone buzzed in his hand again, the one lone notification illuminating the screen. He didn't even have time to react to what his dad just told him.

There was no expectation for him to reply, unlike the other texts. No expletives. No urgency. 

Calm.

He could tell by the way she used entirely lowercase letters, that it was her. It was just a phone number. One he'd deleted a long time ago.

It was clear she hadn't done the same.

i'm here if you need me.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy | @castellomargot | @buckybarnesb-tch

Billy Washington Taglist: @fan-goddess @assortedseaglass

[they-stare-i-ship]

I finished reading the atlas paradox

and now you're subjected to my SPOILERY thoughts.

Parisa Kamali: I love Parisa, I have loved her since the first book. I LIKE HER SO MUCH she's funny she's mean she's cool she's kind. She's incredibly powerful. She's so interesting and I really enjoyed how she slowly became "her royal softness". Whenever we have her pov it's so fun. I love how she's not scared of Atlas and how she challenged him. I can't wait to see what she does in the next book. I'm actually excited to see how Dalton has changed and how she reacts to them in the next book. Her relationship with Nico makes me so feel so nice. I also need her to be kiss Reina sometime in the next book.

Nico de Varona: he's been my annoying lil baby since the first book. I loved how he became more fleshed out in this book. I loved how lonely he got, his relationship with Reina and Tristan really intrigues me. HE'S SUCH A CHILD sometimes and I love him for it. Obviously I have spent the two books insane bc I knew he was in love with Gideon, I just knew it and they're just *chef's kiss* also speaking of his relationship with people, I think him and Libby will be stunning as besties, I truly cannot perceive them as romantic. They act so sibling like or even just asshole bestie like.

Reina Mori: when we started with this series I actually had more hopes from her. I feel like she didn't do much (especially in book 2) and my girl really doesn't understand communication. If she just talked to people sigh. But honestly her God thing, I am down. Go off, I'm excited to see her go off the rails bc people didn't talk to her the way she could have understood. I am low-key in love with how funny the duo of Reina and Callum is, tbh. I also get major ace vibes from her.

Libby Rhodes: honestly she was my second least favourite amount the six when we started. She desperately needed the corruption arc we got in the later half of the book. I think I will like her a lot more now. Her crush on belen was stunning to read. I can't wait for Libby to fuck shit up, literally fuck everyone up. And I genuinely truly deeply want her relationship with Nico to just be friendship. Friendships are equally as important and the fact that the universe made them parallel to eachother is my favourite thing.

Callum Nova: honestly I didn't really like him much during the first book, he was fine but we had more interesting characters. BUT DAMN CALLUM NOVA POST HEARTBREAK?? ~~ exquisite ~~ he's so fucking funny and hopeless and sad and pathetic. he is so desperate for love and so upset that he was denied it. He's my pathetic lil meow meow. Also I would LOVE to see him use his powers more in the future. As we keep learning about it, I keep loving him. Also I need Tristan to beg Callum to take him back.

Tristan Caine: actually I didn't enjoy his povs at all in the first book, I couldn't wait for them to be over. He is still my least favourite among the six but in the second book he was more interesting and fun. I'm a lil anxious of how Atlas is gonna use him and his powers. I don't care much of him but I want him to beg Callum or regret it for the rest of his existence. Also I hate LibbyTristan as a romantic permanent thing, they can fuck around and have fun but pls end at that.

Gideon Drake: I have loved him since day 1. He was the softer kinder balance to Nico's aggressive and abrasiveness. He is so interesting, his origin and his powers. I spent both the book wishing we had more of him. Now that we are out of the library maybe he'll get to play a more active role in the book. I am obsessed with Gideon (bc Nico is obsessed with Gideon) I love the tidbits we learn about Gideon like how Libby always liked him more or how max travelled with him for the rescue of the "prince". I want Gideon to have everything he wants, that's all.

Atlas Blakeley: I have been thinking of Giancarlo Esposito as Atlas the entire time. There's no explanation it's just vibes

Ezra: I'm glad he's dead 💖

[lyrakanefanatic]

tig couple hcs part 1: max and xander

OKAY FOR SOME REASON I RANDOMLY WANTED TO MAKE A TIG COUPLES SERIES SO HERES MY FAVS FIRST!!!

———————————————————

• they literally complete each other. xander, although he doesn’t show it, has always been a bit insecure when it comes to dating and didnt know if there was anyone right for him, until he met max 💗

• max told her parents about them dating a few months after they started, but they met like 6-7 months later. xander took it extremely seriously surprisingly, and showed up to her parents house with a suit and a bouquet of tulips (maxs favourite) (oh, and he got a smaller bundle of yellow roses for maxs mom because they represent friendship and/or family 🤭)

• xander loves isaac (max’s brother) and they get along really well

• karaoke nights are ICONIC with these two and they sing the best duets. you bet they’re eating up shallow and every hamilton song to have ever existed

• whenever they have movie nights they make the famous candy salads, and do that tiktok trend thing where they pretend that the candy salad was actually supposed to be a salad to make themselves seem healthy. here’s an example if you don’t know what i mean:

• “xander, are you ready to try this super healthy salad?”

• “you bet i am! i can’t wait to dig in— OH MY GOD!!! ITS ALL CANDY!!”

• “this is disgusting!! but… we can’t waste it.”

• “you’re right max. there are starving children! let’s try this”

• *while they’re eating* “this is NOT the healthy all greens salad we wanted xan 😪”

• “yeah, im SO disappointed.” (while they’re throwing handfuls of nerds gummy clusters onto their mouths)

• although avery and libby were the first people max told about her and xander dating, nash was the first person xander told about him and max dating.

• jk. nash found out because he walked in on him and max kissing and then xander told everyone in fear that nash would first. 💀

• they have SO. MANY. inside jokes it’s not even funny. sometimes at hawthorne family dinners, max will pick up a napkin or something and say some weird dumb statement to xander and they’ll both burst out laughing and get shot dirty looks by the laughlins and every older hawthorne that lives at hawthorne house

• max actually didn’t really like xander at first (although she found him attractive) because she was worried for avery, and when she had first got to the hawthorne house, she used to wander the halls just looking around, like the curious cat she is. one day, xander sees her wandering and pops up in front of her, and max, who was taken by surprise, pulls her fist back and punched him right in the throat. he was wheezing on the ground for 5 minutes straight. (she apologized so many times)

• at their wedding, xander mentioned this ⬆️⬆️ story in his vows with a cheesy line, like: “maxine liu, when I first met you, you took my breath away. literally. you punched me in the throat.” and made everybody there laugh (at the after party, nash made him explain the whole story)

• max snores and is a terrible sleeper, but thankfully xander falls asleep really quickly, so by the time she’s got her book away and is creating so much noise that it sounds like an elephant orchestra has taken residence in her mouth, xander’s already asleep

• they wear custom made matching hoodies. xanders says “when unsure, ask for max’s opinion” and max’s hoodie just says “max”.

• ⬆️ doesn’t really work the best when they’re not together LOL

• xander has woken up to max’s giggles at 3 am when she’s reading and the enemies become loversss 🤭🤭

• they eat enough food combined at thanksgiving dinner to make all of texas starve

• on the rare occasions that xander visits maxs house, he always takes seconds and thirds at dinner because he just loves her moms cooking so much

• when xander heard her swear for the first time, he was so taken aback that he just stared at her like this for 2 minutes straight:

——————————————————————————

OKAY THATS ALL!!!

LEMME KNOW WHAT COUPLE I SHOULD DO NEXT BECAUSE I LOVED MAKING HCS FOR THESE TWO 💗💗💗

[books-and-strawberry-tea]

I don’t normally comment about booktube here. But I’ve just seen a video and I have to get some comments off my chest.

This video was about e-readers. And while the person has a huge collection of books behind them, goes on to explain that e-readers are so unnecessary, cause they are expensive. And if you are going to buy an e-reader, just buy an iPad cause they are similar in price….

I’m sorry but in what world is an iPad and an e-reader the same price?? (Or yk other tablets of a similar nature).

This person goes on to talk about how e-readers can’t install apps like Libby etc…are we just going to ignore the e-readers that run on android?? That function like a regular phone just with an e-ink screen??

I honestly gave up watching this video cause this person just sounded like they were pretty single minded on the topic. So here’s my two cents.

Pro’s for an ereader: (at least in my case)

1. E-reader’s are amazing for portability. Physical books can get very heavy, and although I love them, I hate taking physical books out with me cause I’m terrified of damaging them.

2. Books in my country, are incredibly expensive. You can go to the bookstore, and end up spending $50 AUD and get 1-2 books depending on what you get. Hard covers are usually $40+! Paperbacks can range between $17-$40 also. And if it doesn’t get printed in Australia?? Good luck. The only way I could get Hunting Adeline was to pay $65. Because whenever I ordered it from Amazon at $35, from America, it would come absolutely obliterated because they don’t package it in anything but a basic plastic mailer bag. No protection at all.

3. E-readers are much better for your eyes and don’t have constant distracting notifications and people trying to ring you. I have weak eye muscles. Always have. I wear glasses for this. And I used to read on my phone cause it’s what I have with me while I was out. But once I got an e-reader, I realised just how bad my eye strain was from my phone. E-readers have seriously improved my reading stamina especially since mine has the orange light feature. It’s not like we all don’t have an internet or phone addiction anyway. At least according to statistics I’ve seen in the past. Majority of us are trying to spend less time on our phones and more time doing what we love. And e-readers absolutely help with that. (Much better for my ADHD too honestly.)

4. I live with roommates, I have very limited space. So big book collections is just not something that’s possible for me. I’d love to, but again, space and money.

5. E-readers have given me the opportunity to read books that I’d never be able to get. Because of space reasons, money reasons, and the fact that Australia just does not get the wide selection of books that other countries do. We miss out so much. Some books, we have to wait YEARS for, while everyone else gets them on release dates. My e-reader has been such a huge investment for me, as well as an opportunity maker to give me the option to read books I’d never be able to get other wise.

I will clarify this by saying yes, I do have an iPad. But that was a gift. I didn’t buy it for myself. My mother very graciously bought it for me with her inheritance money. She went out of her way to make sure I had a good working device for university. That iPad was over $2,000 aud. My e-reader?? $250!!! HUGE price difference. And it has helped me save so much money in the process. Cause if I read the ebook, and don’t like it, that’s okay, refund. If I do??? Then I can absolutely go out and hopefully track down a physical copy. If that’s not possible?? I still have the digital version. That I can enjoy over and over.

No, I’m not ignoring the cons to do with DRM, and companies censoring ebooks, not at all. But I feel like either way there is still more pros then what this person was giving e-readers credit for. She sounded privileged honestly, she may not have a use for e-readers. But to be saying that you don’t need one, and that they are completely unnecessary….its just incorrect.

I haven’t even touched on how e-readers help others with disabilities to be able to access books. I have a friend for example that has been very unwell for many years now. And because of this, she has fatigue and strength issues. She at one stage could barely hold a book. But once she got her kindle, she was so over joyed cause she could finally enjoy books again. Kindles are so light, they have stands etc. It honestly reminds me of the people that say audiobooks arnt counted as reading and you shouldn’t do it. Sure, let’s just alienate all the people that can’t read or have vision impairment right? (For clarity, I’m being sarcastic.) Or how about all the cultures that past on the culture, history, legends etc all by word of mouth?? For centuries, way before anyone invented written script. But that’s a whole other tangent I can go off about later.

If e-readers arnt for you, that’s totally fine. But to say no one has a need for them, because physical books exist, is just closed minded. Just because you have the privilege of a huge book library and may not have use of an e-reader, doesn’t not mean that other people don’t have a great use for them.

Anyway, that’s my rant. I don’t like ranting online. But this just frustrated me so much. No hate to this person personally, I just think they weren’t open to the possibilities of how these devices are used and fulfil needs for other people that live differently.

If you read this, cool! I hope you have a good day. And enjoy reading what you are currently 💝

[picturejasper20]

Danny Phantom needed better arcs (or why The Ghost and Molly Mcgee did it better)

I have been reading some old posts from Monotype on phantom, mainly those that talk about continuity and how Danny Phantom should have had better written arcs, with having plot threads and characters arcs being left open and often with no proper closure. In these posts Danny Phantom gets compared to series like Steven Universe and Gravity Falls in terms of how these shows use pacing and development to tell their stories.

So i was thinking since i usually talk about parallels between Danny Phantom and The Ghost and Molly Mcgee, why not compare the two? And you would think ¨why are you comparing an action superhero show to a more comedy slice of life show?¨ And let me tell you, considering what The Ghost and Molly Mcgee was able to pull off, i think it is more than fair to do this comparison.

I assume that most of my followers know what Danny Phantom is so i won't dive into what the series is about. In The Ghost and Molly Mcgee's case, for those who don't know, it is a series about Molly McGee and her family moving to an old house where a ghost named Scratch lives is in. Molly and Scratch become best friends over the course of the series, something that brings them issues along the way. While the series is more comedy slice of life, it has arcs that get explored through the show and there is a constant change in the characters and the world itself.

Having explained that, lets move to the comparison between these shows: I think it would be good to start with Danny Phantom trio development (Danny, Sam, Tucker) vs The Ghost and Molly Mcgee ¨Comet trio¨ (Molly, Scratch and Libby) development in the first season of each show.

So Danny as main character gets plenty of episodes about him. Some good examples of these are "Attack of the Killer Garage Sale", "What You Want", "Bitter Reunions", "My Brother's Keeper" and "Teacher of the Year". He gets an overall arc in the firsy season and the series as a whole. We can agree that in that way he is a well developed character.

But what about Sam and Tucker? Sam has "Parental Bonding", "Control Freaks" and maybe "Fanning the Flames". Tucker has "What You Want" and some in "Teacher of the Year" They also have some B plots that explore their characters in some episodes too...

However, they don't really feel that well developed? They don't even seem like to have a proper arc in contrast to Danny this season. Just some good scenes here and there.

In contrast The Ghost and Molly Mcgee has the three characters from the Comet Trio developing and changing through the season. -Molly has different episodes about learning to respect other people's boundaries better ("Mazel Tov, Libby!", "Ready, Set, Snow!") or how being positive all the time isn't always a good thing ( "All Systems No") -Libby has a whole arc about learning to overcome some of her anxieties and insecurities until she grows to be more confident of herself ( "Mazel Tov, Libby!" and "Talent Show") and she has episodes that explore other sides of her character. ( "Monumental Disaster", "Festival of Lights") -And Scratch- i could write a lot about him but he has some character growth every other episode and the changes he goes through Season 1 alone are very noticeable. He is a characters who just develops a lot in the series.

Overall, i think it is fair to say that the Comet Trio from The Ghost and Molly Mcgee is more developed and has better arcs when compared to the Phantom trio from Danny Phantom

Another example of this is how Valerie Gray and Ollie Chen character arcs get handled in both respective series. Both start as semi antagonists that are ghosthunters who fall in love with the main teenager character and hate ghosts but gradually change their views about it through the show.

The main difference is how Ollie Chen has more of a complete character arc while Valerie Gray doesn't.

Valerie was going through some good development around Season 1 and Season 2 with her motivations being explored and her relationship with Danny changing over time. She gets some good episodes on Season 1 and a few in the first half of Season 2. The problem is that after the "Flirting with Disaster" the show seemed to forget about Valerie for around half of its run until the penultimate episode of the series "D-Stabilized". And even then she never gets a proper conclusion to her learning about Danny being Phantom nor able to regret her past actions from previous episodes. She doesn't get to have speaking lines in the series finale ¨Phantom Planet¨ neither.

Comparing Valerie to Ollie Chen, it doesn't take too long for Ollie to learn that Molly has been hiding she has a ghost (Scratch) as her best friend. He learns about this near the end of the episode ¨I Wanna Dance with Some-Ollie¨.

This leaves him emotionally crushed and that gets explored in later episodes with him learning that all ghosts aren't evil and he changes his views about them. ("Frightmares on Main Street", "The Unhaunting of Brighton Video") He later has episodes that he confronts his family about these views they have too like "Welcome to NecroComic-Con".

I do have my issues with Ollie as character but one thing i can give him is that he has a completed character arc by the end of Season 2. He learns to overcome his hatred of ghosts and reflect on his past actions, trying to be better over time.

I think one factor is that The Ghost and Molly Mcgee had less issues with changing the status quo than Danny Phantom did. What happens in one episode can have an impact on later episodes and the characters change in these. This is because these shows came during different times but also that Tgamm had its characters arcs and development better planned from the start. Danny Phantom episodes were just written as the production went along and a lot of times the team didn't have a clear plan in mind of where things should go.

That doesn't mean that The Ghost and Molly Mcgee isn't without its flaws. Season 2 is kind of a mess in how it handles its arcs and some things should have been better paced. In spite of that, i think the series in a lot of ways did a better job at using continuity and arcs than what Danny Phantom did. There are more examples i could cite but these ones are the closest that come to mind to do this comparison.

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

Here is my take on The Atlas trilogy characters after reading the first two books.

SPOILERS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Libby Rhodes - I find her type characters annoying, but omg I loved her in The Atlas Paradox, and while I ind Ezra interesting, you go girl kill his ass. Also I need more of her alone, mainly using her power alone, but I want to see that from both her and Nico, while they're both physicists, I think it would be cool to see even more differences between them.

Nico de Varona - I feel so bad for my man his boyfriend is being hunted and his girlfriend got kidnapped and his bestie is having god complex issues LMAO, no seriously love him, liked him in the first book, loved him even more in the second, him AND GIDEON love it. Also nearly cried when it was said how alone my guy is, he needs family and he will look for it no matter what

Reina Mori - her god complex is so fun yet so crazy to watch unfold, while she is on the side I think her inner monologue is very interesting to read. Not my favourite character, but she and Callum are imo a great duo, need more of them. She and Parisa should just kiss and be besties.

Parisa Kamali - An icon, a legend, gave us the spiciest scenes in the book so we love her for that. Her power and character is perfect, mainly her decline and her helping my boy Nico. Didn't care for her and Dalton that much (overall I didn't care for Dalton) BUT very excited to see more of true Dalton (The prince?) in book 3

Tristan Caine - GET YOUR FUCKING DADDY ISSUES IN CHECK PLS AND THANK YOU!!!! Jk I love all my bitches equally, but him getting so close to all male figures in his life... nope, him and Atlas could make an unstoppable duo but worry not! His gf is back :) Overall Tristan was always a very hit or miss character for me, can't put a finger on why.

Callum Nova - I love him, like forreal, he is my new obsession, he is absolutely hilarious, I love his energy, the shit he causes, he is there to just do shit and I live for it!! Also made me cry, and you know I love blonde bitches that make me cry (cough cough Howl). Overall I need to read more books about Callum Nova type characters, because yes please. Also dw you don't have to hide your hairline from me I will cure your alcohol addiction <333

Ezra Fowler - girlbossed too close to the sun, very interesting tho, but I love Libby more

Gideon - LOVE LOVE LOOOOOVEEEE pls stop talking to your mama

[the5n00k]

An observation about TGAMM The End

Big big spoilers ahead, click away if you aren't caught up

This is also my first NEGATIVE TGAMM analysis post! Wowie! So if you don't want to see me bitch, also click off now

The End and how Molly McGee's character was disrespected

The End is. An episode. I have many MANY thoughts about it but it would be far too long to put in one post so I'm going to explore one of my more reoccurring opinions. This episode recontextualized a lot of things but I'm going to talk about how it recontextualized Molly as a character. Most importantly as a MAIN character. A TITLE character. A character with her own past and personality and feelings. All of which this episode completely stomped all over, handed her the check, and said "figure it out"

I want to apologize to my friend who called this so SO much earlier into the series and that he had to listen to me watch this show on lethal amounts of copium. You were right but I knew neither of us wanted you to be.

Now let's get into the meat of it, shall we?

All throughout season 1, Molly's history and relationship with the concept of friends is always treated with complete sincerity and the emotional pause it needs to sink in with the audience that she's been through it. Moving away and leaving friends is why she put so much importance on the "forever home" in the first place because she's had to leave so many people she loved. She had a rocky beginning with Scratch during the early season but quickly became on equal footing with him as they began to understand each other and their boundaries. Because she genuinely cares about him. Similarly, season 2 explores the boundaries of their friendship and shows Scratch more willing to participate in whatever Molly is doing, even begging sometimes to be included. And Molly is very patient and kind with him all throughout trying to help him regain memories of his past. And Scratch actually reciprocated a few times like helping her learn Thai and working with Libby to set her up with Ollie. They're the closest they've ever been and something I can confidently call true best friends, possibly the closest and healthiest friendship I've seen portrayed in media. Season 2 showcases how far either of them are willing to go to help each other.

Then The End happened.

Molly is the same understanding and supportive friend as she had been all season, almost to a fault. She encourages scratch to go back to his life, knowing the risks that come with it. Why did there need to be the risk of forgetting her when his spirit didn't immediately forget his living life? Don't know. Something to do with an unreleased episode although I doubt the rest of season 3 would have sweetened my opinion of this episode. Only she knew he was about to do this, she didn't talk to any of his other friends or family before he went out to Todd's house. They only found out after the fact and the next morning is when he left. None of them had any time to process that they just lost a family member, especially not Molly.

The scene where he's talking to her on the bench breaks my heart. Knowing your friend is no longer there and is replaced with this stranger. So much of this episode would have been fixed to just let him keep his memories. Considering how hard it was to pull his living memories out of his spirit, it's very likely that even the small fragments of her he remembers will slowly fade away. She had to do the one thing she never wanted to do again and repeat the same pain that's plagued her for the entire series. And it sucks! Why doesn't she get a happy ending? Hell, I'm not even convinced this was a "happy ending" for scratch since he can't remember any of the people he just spent the last two years with.

The biggest slap to the face is when Libby, Geoff, and the McGees come up behind Molly and just act like all of this is fine? They're treating scratch like this wild animal that deserved to be released into the wild because he could never fit in with society when he was PERFECTLY HAPPY with the McGees. He proudly displayed to the entire ghost world that he was an "honorary McGee" and told a ghost hunter to his face that him and Molly would do anything for each other despite their differences. Was all of that completely pointless? Because it sure feels that way. He had this entire new "life" he just completely abandoned because oh I guess I'm not really dead. Guess I better go reconnect with my childhood friend I haven't seen in person or had any meaningful conversations with in decades!!! See ya, chumps, hope you weren't attached to me or anything!

It's so disrespectful to the audience's investment in Molly and Scratch's friendship, the themes of friendship overcoming all odds and lasting forever, and Molly as a character. And to a lesser degree, it's even disrespectful to Scratch since most of the season he spent brooding over the fact that he didn't remember his past! Now he's forgotten a large portion of his "life" all over again. Now he's going to have to live with this nagging itch at the back of his mind that he's forgetting something until he manages to completely repress it too. And to rub salt in the wound, the credits don't have near sight nor mention of Molly McGee outside of a painted portrait of her and (spirit) scratch. All this does is tell me a LONG time has passed and neither of them have managed to successfully contact each other. The dream team is gone, this is a story about a girl and a ghost and none of it meant anything.

"he'll remember when he dies again!" Where does it say that

"he didn't forget, he said Moll! That means something!" The longer he spends away from the McGees and Brighton, the more likely he is to completely forget them altogether. The vague memories will eventually fade away and every "forever memory" will be worthless.

"it doesn't matter, this is Scratch's story" then why isn't it called 'scratch and the human girl'? Or 'the scratch show'? Why is Molly a title character if she's nothing but a plot device for his character development.

"Molly had to learn how to say goodbye." No she didn't. She's been doing that her entire life. She's pretty well aware of how to say goodbye. Making her relive 13 years of trauma from the other side of the vehicle doors is not a useful life skill. Pain is not necessary to grow up.

I don't care what the excuse is. This was a terrible ending for both characters and no amount of "he's happy now!" coping from both the fans and the writers is going to get me to see this any other way. If you enjoy the episode, great! I'm happy for you, there's a lot to love in the music and voice acting and breathtaking animation. But none of that could save me from this abysmal attempt at a series finale. I was so viscerally disgusting by this as a finale that I spent a good two days completely nauseous thinking about it. What a disaster. The sad part is I like the story potential! Him reuniting with Adia is what I've wanted for him all season so he could get closure. Molly and Scratch having to say goodbye is heartbreaking but understandable, a lot of shows nowadays end that way and I half expected it. But him completely forgetting the girl he owes his new lease on life to? My gosh it's just a deal breaker. It is such a cruel end for these characters and I cannot wrap my head around why they thought it was a good idea outside of cheap angst.

I wanted to like this episode and I still do. But they just did so much wrong when one thing could change and it would have completely flipped my opinion on the episode and series in general. But what do I know, I'm just a negative nancy.

Anyway idk how to end this off, justice for Molly McGee, Scratch deserved to be called Scratch McGee, kill Todd Mortenson, peace out

[wyn-n-tonic]

Books by Black Authors for Black History Month!

I wanted to share a list of books I love and books that I'm looking forward to reading that are by Black authors in acknowledgement of Black History Month. I feel like a lot of my fellow readers (especially my fellow white readers) always go into a, kind of, reading slump in February and I don't know if that's because the month of January is just ten years long that February feels like a hangover or if it's because they feel the desire to read books by Black authors but then the majority of what is marketed is usually books that are steeped in trauma or nonfiction books. And, like, yeah, nonfiction books are so important but when they're the only kind of book marketed it can make finding the other kinds of books that much harder but I believe that if you read the fun books and the happy books and the fantasy books it will make you want to seek out the nonfiction resources. I'm blabbering so long story short, I thought I would make a little list to do some of the legwork for my fellow readers to find stories that they can check out.

I used GoodReads links (and one StoryGraph) link, you can choose who to purchase from yourself (although I will suggest BookShop.org as your purchase does go towards indie bookstores, I also really like the Libby App which is just your library and it works with your Kindle/Nook/Kobo/iPad). All authors that I have included in this are American or have strong ties to the USA which is why I did not include authors such as Bolu Babalola, Talia Hibbert, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie but I do highly recommend checking them out if you haven't because they do write gorgeously.

Kennedy Ryan has an extensive backlog and beautiful writing, beautiful prose. She had a book called Before I Let Go (Skyland #1) come out in November 2022, it is a second chance romance between a married couple. It has been on my shelf forever, the cover is beautiful and I've heard nothing but truthfully incredible things. I have listened to snippets of the audiobook but keep putting off getting the actual audiobook because Kennedy is the kind of author I want to read the grammar, syntax, wording of everything from. This book actually got optioned to be adapted into a television show and there's a second Skyland book coming out in March called This Could Be Us that has the ARC readers going wild.

Jasmine Guillory is one of my favorite authors. She is a Bay Area native and has a law degree from Stanford. Not only do I think that she writes beautifully but I cannot even describe to you the way that I kick my little feet and twirl my hair. I feel like my favorite of hers changes. Up until a few weeks ago, I would've told you that Olivia Monroe in Party of Two was my favorite Jasmine girly but I listened to Royal Holiday to kick off my reading for January and Vivian Forest is such a beautiful character. She's a 56 year old Black woman who is a veteran social worker who thinks it's too late for her on several fronts and then she gets swept off her feet while on a vacation with her daughter AND THE ROYAL FAMILY. What?! I also think that Jasmine writes, like.... character appropriate sex scenes if that makes sense. Like, Vivian's scenes are more reserved than Olivia's were, Vivian's more closed door than Olivia's were. She also has a Beauty and the Beast inspired book called By The Book and I kept texting my friend the entire way through and then made her buy a copy so she could text me right back with all her thoughts. Amazing. I love her.

You want cozy fantasy romance with monsters and happy Black women being loved by their hot monster lovers? Kimberly Lemming has GOT YOU COVERED.

Plugging my new author friend P.J. Leigh and her book Olawu. She actually responded to my request for some indie author recs on Threads and sent me a copy of Olawu that will be here on Friday and I'm so excited. She describes it as: "Set in precolonial East Africa with romance, action, sisterhood, found family, and a feisty but flawed female lead." I cannot wait to dig into this one.

Another author who messaged me is indie author Quiana Glide. Her bio is that she is an unabashed fangirl and her books feature pregnancy trope, cosplay, professional wrestlers and cafe owners solving murders. Her books sound fucking great and they are available on Kindle Unlimited for my KU girlies (gender neutral).

Celestine Martin messaged me as well and she writes paranormal romance with Black witches, emo mermen and fae princes. I tripped over myself running to my Libby app to place a hold on the audiobook.

25 to Love! by Joye Johnson is another one available on Kindle Unlimited for my KU girlies (gender neutral). The synopsis is: "TV's hottest dating show is '25 to Love!'. To nab a guy from her past, Lola signs on as the token girl of color. All's fair in love and ratings--can a week on TV get Lola closer to the one that got away?" You know what I love? Second chance romances, besties, that's right.

Splinter by Jasper Hyde was another I was recommended. Jasper writes paranormal, LGBTQ+ books. Jasper Hyde is a pen name for Georgina Kiersten who also goes by Rian Fox. The pen name denotes the subgenre that they write. Georgina does go by they/them pronouns and writes plus sized rep and neurodivergent rep too.

Kelly Cain. That's it. That's the tweet. THE EVERHEART BROTHERS SERIES????? If you know anything about me, you know that I have a hearing issue and so I've used audiobooks before but I never really clicked with them or got the hype. Turns out I had boring ass narrators (look I did the audio version of a lot of nonfiction books I had to read about old dead white guys in college so of course I had that feeling). THE EVERHEART BROTHERS AUDIOBOOKS ARE WHAT CHANGED ME. Deanna Anthony, the narrator, is so engaging and I didn't feel like I was listening to an audiobook, I felt like I was sitting across the table at brunch having a gossip session with my bestie. If you read it and you didn't like it, that's fine, but I didn't lie to you and enjoyment of art is subjective but also you're wrong and argue with a wall.

I've been seeing a lot of talk lately about Pride & Protest by Nikki Payne. This is a Pride & Prejudice and one of the reviews says, "If you ever wanted P&P to feel more like watching a swoony, steamy episode of Insecure, this is the book for you."

Currently, I am reading You Made a Fool of Death With Your Beauty by Akwaeke Emezi. It deals with themes of grief and romance and also bisexual representation. Absolutely beautiful prose. Akwaeke is Nigerian and has been in the USA since college. They are non-binary and go by they/them pronouns.

I also cannot end this list without mentioning Memphis by Tara M. Stringfellow. This follows three generations of a southern Black family in the neighborhood of Douglass in Memphis, TN (I was born a couple miles away in Raleigh) . Now, this book does have quite a few trigger warnings that I won't put here but I do encourage you to READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS before you purchase this book as it does deal with some pretty heavy subject matter.

I'm also going to end this by saying to keep an eye out for anything done by my best friend, the person who I have shared so many amazing, beautiful, life changing experiences with ALL OVER THE WORLD for the last fourteen years: Isana Skeete (Isana does not use pronouns). If you look at the GoodReads account for Isana that I linked, you'll see lists made with recommendations of books with queer POC rep and asexuality representation.

[mafiasliege]

I dare you to let me go

(this is part 2 of my fic. Enjoy reading!)

Part 1 ↓

JAMESON

Jameson was standing in a maze. Green bushes everywhere. And whichever way he went, the end was green too. Except now. Now, a 5"6' hazel-eyed brunette was standing there.

"Heiress." He tried taking a step toward her, but the distence seemed to stay the same, maybe it was getting bigger. "Where are we?"

"Not we. You. You seem… stuck."

"I'm not stuck. I'm-"

"-fine? Is that your latest lie? Then why am I here, Jameson? again?"

Where was he? And why did Avery seem younger?

"It's not a lie, heiress." Jameson was starting to get angry now, he turned around and started walking away. Avery- or the girl who at least looked like her- spoke louder.

"I'm not her, you know. Maybe the real one doesn't even exist anymore."

"Shut up."

"Maybe she just-"

"Shut up!-"

"Jamie, I'm gonna start yoddling loudly until you get your ass out here!" That was Xander, but Jameson had no regard for a yoddling threat between his gasping for air like a drowning man. Apparently, the things that plagued him during the day had started following him into his sleep now.

He pushed away the sheets and picked up his shirt from the night before. Under it was that box. They same green box. How long had he had it now? An year? Two? And did it matter, really?

You're fine. Just get this done.

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

Jameson got dressed and got to the room. He was surprisingly on time, the only reason being Xander making good on his threat to yoddle. He was actually decent at it, but annoying, nonetheless.

"Do you believe you're being paid to arrange a funeral?" Grayson's tone walked the line between a question and an accusation.

"I need this entire-"

"That's enough! Thank you" Lyra inserted herself in the conversation and dragged Grayson away by his arm from the event planners, who went back to doing their thing.

The dinner last night may have been non-existent the last straw a disaster, but this party's going to be epic. Besides, Avery would at least be home for at least a while on her own birthday, right? She'd promised.

Jameson helped himself to one of the appetizers on the long table covered in platinum and shades of violet. He hadn't had breakfast. After everything was set, he excused himself to the garage and tried calling Avery.

"Your call has been-"

"You're call has-"

"You're ca-"

He plunked his phone down with force. Luckily, it landed on the soft leather of the Valkyrie's seat.

"You alright there?" Nash. It was Nash. Why was everyone so concerned all of a sudden? Avery had just missed her own birthday that he'd planned for days. Not a big deal. At all. Janeson rolled down the car's window glass.

"I am fine."

"You're staying to sound more like Gray than Gray used to himself," Nash took that as his cue to get in the passanger seat.

"Whatever you and Avery have going on, just talk to-"

"Do you think I haven't tried?" It came out slow with a hint of frustration. They were face to face now. "There's always another call, there's always another problem, there's always another person expecting the most from her and she's trying to live up to them more and more."

To that, Nash had no answer. They just say like that for a while.

"Try talking to her today. She might just listen." He patted Jamie on the shoulder and got out.

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

"I can't feel my faxing legs," Max whispered, sitting in a crouch. After a long day of planning Avery's party, everyone was sitting in a crouch waiting for her to come and surprise her.

"Sit on me, then," Xander whispered back to her.

"Oh, get a room you two!" Libby whisper-yelled at them, just as the door rattled.

"SURPRISE!!"

"Oh, my God!" Said… Mrs. Laughlin, who almost dropped the tray of crab cakes in her hands.

"Ugh. I can't crouch for much longer! Where is this beach?" Max whimpered, kicking her feet.

After two hours, all the dishes were half-empty, the wine half-drunk, and half the people previously in the room had dispersed.

"So-"

"Before you say what your about to say, Gray, just like everyone else in this house, I'm okay, and so is Avery."

Grayson frowned. "I've been where you are, Jamie. If you have to keep telling yourself you're okay, you definitely aren't."

Jameson felt Grayson call out to him as he stormed out walked away.

He was done. He was so done. With his brothers' concern, with Lyra's unnecessary inputs.

With Avery.

The floodgates were open now, just like the door of his bathroom as he slammed it back shut. He was angry, no, frustrated. He was frustrated at the dinner, he was frustrated as he threw the green box from his pocket at the sink, he was frustrated as he felt the mirror shatter beneath his knuckles. He could suddenly see a thousand reflections of himself. But every reflection in every piece of the shattered mirror was a shell of what Jameson Hawthorne used to be. How he used to be.

He staggered back, still staring at his reflections until his back hit the door as he slowly sunk to the floor. And just like that, the tears and the memories came rushing out to the surface.

"Maybe the real one doesn't even exist anymore."

"She told me she's going to make it up to you"

"If you have to keep telling yourself you're okay, you definitely aren't."

"How many times have you had your heart broken over the last five years?"

And with the painful memories and the exploding bottled up feelings came crystal clarity, for the first time in a long time.

I can't do this anymore.

Loving Avery had made him love himself too, it made him realise his self-worth. He got to see what he deserved. But this, right now? He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to pretend to be happy. He didn't deserve to settle for a shell of what him and Avery used to be. He always says he can't imagine a life without Avery, maybe that was never a good thing. He had to start living for himself.

And there was only one way to do that.

[berryz-writes]

Your the only one for me

(part 1)

SOOO THIS TOOK A WHILE. sorry xx. also THANK YOU 🤍 (a lot of requests have been made based off of this request so I'm making it into one long fic x)

Summary: You find something suspicious on Grayson's phone and confront him about it. During your argument you get seriously injured. Is it all a misunderstanding or is he just using you?

Grayson Hawthorne x reader

It was Thanksgiving weekend. A time for family and friends. For loved ones to gather and enjoy good food and share stories and memories. At the moment Xander was explaining the story of how the two of us had paired up in a robotics competition, in which I had screwed something wrong resulting in an explosion and causing our professor to ban us from robotics club. This happened almost 3 months ago and he was still hurt about being banned from the club. He was now explaining how he was starting his own club. And apparently I was not invited.

Grayson's hand rested on my thigh, a comforting gesture and something that helped me stay calm in such a chaos of a family dinner. It wasn't exactly a "family dinner" seen as though half the people weren't even here. It was a more get together dinner with Xander, Jameson, Avery, Grayson and me. Nash was out somewhere with Libby and Max was actually trying to get a few projects done, surprisingly.

Thanksgiving was actually in 2 days time but according to Jameson "It's never too early to get together". This also meant he had probably planned something that included more than 4 people to play. I didn't mind. It gave me an excuse to forget about my deadlines for abit and spend time with Grayson.

*A few hours later*

I watched as Grayson finally came to stop in front of me in the pool, smiling up at me. I refused to go any further into the water and just let my legs dangle slightly in. Besides watching Grayson swim with his muscles on show like that was always nice to watch.

"You should join me. It's warm" He said, his height being enough for him to stand with the water coming up to his chest.

I shook my head "Who wants to voluntarily swim? It's like saying let's go on a treadmill, it's fun"

Grayson let out a laugh "It's not entirely like that sweetheart. But fine" Before I could say anything a notification popped up on Grayson's phone. It was too far back for him to get it so I grabbed it for him. Because I was nosy and my eyes immediately went to see who the notification was from, I immediately wished I could turn back time and pretend I had never seen it.

A notification from Sophie that read *I had so much fun yesterday. We should definitely do it again.😏*

I didn't give him the phone, instead I held it tightly in my hand and showed him his screen.

"Who is this?" I asked, trying so hard to not get angry and see reason to what was happening. Grayson's smile dropped and immediately became confused. He ran a hand through his hair

"It's just Sophie. She does the photography exhibit with me" He said after a while.

I put his phone down, although what I really wanted to do was throw it into the pool. I stood up and looked at him in disgust. I thought he'd have better morals than cheating on someone. Especially someone they had said they loved.

"Just Sophie? Is she the reason why you came home at two in the morning yesterday? Or the reason why you haven't been telling me anything whenever I ask you?"

Grayson looked up at me, still in the pool. "Sweetheart. I was at the photography exhibit, finishing things off." He had gone pale and was frozen in place.

I scoffed. He just kept thinking if he made the same excuse I would believe it "Well I'm finishing things between us SO YOU CAN GO SPEND TIME WITH SOPHIE LIKE THE LYING FUCKING CHEAT YOU ARE" I felt tears make their way down my cheek as I walked away into the darkness, half running and half stumbling because I couldn't see a thing with my tears cascading down.

Why was I crying? It was just a breakup. I was trying to justify it all but really I was crying because I didn't expect it. I was crying because I thought if things ever ended between the two of us it would be on good terms. Not him cheating. I loved him. I probably still did and that's what hurt most. When had he started seeing someone else?

Did it start just last week when we had our date? Or had it been months now and I was just too oblivious to see it all? My heart hurt so much it was unbearable. I wanted to rip it out and ignore the reality of it all.

I walked in a daze to the room me and Grayson shared and tried to get everything of mine into my bag. Luckily because I was a lazy bitch I hadn't even unpacked yet. It's like I knew this was going to happen. Putting my hair brush into my side bag and looking around the room one more time I wheeled my suitcase to the stairs.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't. Imagine, the one person who loved you thinking you aren't worthy enough. I spent so much of my time and effort into loving Grayson wholeheartedly and what did I get back? Heartbreak.

I sat down on the top most stair and let the tears flow until there were no more. The pain in my heart receding to a dull ache in my chest. I wasn't ready to see him but there he was, looking up at me with sad eyes and a regretful expression.

"Y/n. Please. Don't leave" His hair was still wet, his swimming shorts were still on and he had pulled on a shirt. I wanted to throw my suitcase down at him and have him hug me all at once. Why did he have to cheat? Was I not good enough?

I didn't feel like talking to him so instead I stood up and kept my expression blank. As if he didn't faze me at all. Before I had even touched my suitcase Grayson came running up the stairs and stopped in front of me "Please y/n. Let me explain. I love you. How could you think I'd cheat on you? Why would I? Your perfect." He explained.

I shook my head, not wanting to look him in the eyes. If I did I might start crying again "I saw the message. Don't lie to me" I pulled on my suitcase. He gently grabbed my arm, not letting me move any further. His touch was so soft and warm. I used to love it. He brought me so much comfort. But now I hated it. He had probably kissed and hugged Sophie just like he did me. I wasn't anyone special to him. I don't know why I thought I was.

Gritting my teeth together I yanked my arm away "don't touch me"

As soon as the words left me I looked up at him, breaking my vow of not looking into his grey eyes. I felt bad. I felt bad for hurting him even though he was the one cheating on me. His arm slowly dropped back to his side, his lips parting in surprise at my harsh words.

"Please, sweetheart. I-" His voice broke. I couldn't stand here any longer. Swallowing the pain and tears I lifted the suitcase, underestimating it's heaviness. Without warning the suitcase tipped forward, pushing me off the landing, my weight propelling me forward to crash and roll down the flight of stairs, banging my head and every limb in my body on the way. I couldn't feel anything. My vision had gone black and I didn't even know if my eyes were open or not. I couldn't tell where I was. I could only feel the discomfort of the position I was in. My breathing was sharp and heavy as if I couldn't get in enough oxygen. My brain felt as if it had been hammered and my back felt like it was being crushed under a heavy weight. I wanted to sit up. I wanted to breathe properly again.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Reader

Part One: Dashed Hopes

AN: Inspired by the song “Becky’s so Hot” but when I asked for who to base it on got this from anon and decided to go in a different direction than planned

Prompt: I’m imagining this with Rachel and her leaving the Dash and transferring to Villa

AN: let’s ignore the real life timings for this one.

As you stared down at your phone ringing you debated whether to answer it or not. It was your best friend, Libby, you loved her but she always had some sort of drama going on and you weren’t sure if you wanted to deal with it today. You’d arrived home from America last week and was reacquainting with your old town. Watching as the name disappeared from the screen you were able to breathe again but the relief didn’t last long when it lit up once more two seconds later. You knew she wouldn’t stop ringing until you answered so reluctantly succumbed to the drama.

“You’ll never believe who I just saw!” she screamed down the phone. This could range from a school friend you hadn’t seen in 20 years or Beyoncé. No ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’, just straight into the gossip as usual. “Becky!” she shrieked making you move your phone away from your delicate ears. Becky used to be a friend of yours until she stole Libby’s boyfriend 5 years ago. You always liked the girl but you can’t carry on being friends with someone your bestie hates. It’s girl code. “How was she-“ you started to ask but got cut off. “No! The news isn’t that I saw Becky” this made you frustrated, just get to the point woman! “But you just said guess who I see, Becky” the overly sarcastic tone rolling off your tongue with ease. “No, (y/n) shut up and let me finish the story!” Rolling your eyes, you knew she had drama and should have stuck to your guns with not answering the phone, you just wanted a peaceful afternoon to enjoy the nostalgic atmosphere of your home town. But no. In comes Hurricane Olivia. “Stay where you are I’ll come meet you” she said hurriedly before hanging up abruptly leaving you no time to object.

The coffee shop bell dinged as the tornado of a woman found you in the corner. Asking how she knew where you were she explained she’d put your phone on her find me app ages ago. You were shocked but certainly not surprised - ever since you lost each other at a party last year she’d been highly protective of you. The woman couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag but she means well.

“So! I saw Becky!” stumbling into the chair opposite you and dumping her bag on the table making it rock. “Yeah you’ve already told me this, why’d you have to come over here-“ you were unable to finish your sentence as she cut you off. “No! I saw Becky..” she paused for dramatic effect “with Rachel!” your eyebrows raised in a fashion that showed you were not amused with her mediocre statement. “Well that’s not news, they’re on the same team” you tried to reason with her but once again you were interrupted. “No listen to me, they were holding hands!”

“(Y/n)!” Fingers snapping in your face broke you out of the wide eyed trance staring into your coffee cup. What the fuck. Becky and Rachel? Nooo. This can’t be happening. You asked her if she was sure that’s what she witnessed but Libby was adamant that it was true - they looked incredibly coupley. God, that girl really knows how to move in on other people’s partners! Granted, you and Rachel have been over for a little while now but you didn’t expect this. You’re still not over her and she’s out there with a whole new girlfriend! It’s not even been a month! Should have known really, she always moved quickly - historically falling in and out of love fast but you just didn’t realise you were that easy to get over. You thought Rachel was the love of your life and now someone you used to call friend has swooped in on her when your side of the bed was barely cold. You tried hard to not let it get to you but your face said everything - you were hurt, sad and in need of a tub of ice cream. The fact she’s moved on so quickly made you feel like it was the day of the breakup all over again.

It was unexpected and just like any other day, you’d gone to sleep fiancées and woke up to a letter and her ring on the bedside table. Wardrobes and drawers empty. No pitter patters of Lexi’s paws on the kitchen floor. Half finished TV series that you watched together left on Netflix. She’d left your home, she’d left the team and she’d left the country overnight. This showed you her leaving was planned - she had gone to bed with you for weeks knowing she was eventually going to leave as soon as the transfer went through.

Sitting quietly in the corner of the coffee shop tears started to well in your eyes, you’d worked hard to get over her and you thought you had but all the emotions had come flooding back. Scrolling through all the unanswered messages and the photos of her on your phone your heart was breaking all over again. What’s worse is you’d just been called up for the World Cup that morning and would have to face Rachel at camp. For months. This couldn’t be worse timing. When you got the call up you were excited and felt empowered like you’d be able to be amicable colleagues for a while but all hopes of that had been dashed.

Part Two