#probably finds out more about it when shes on earth and can ask Gretchen!!! :)

[baylardian-1]

that feel when u were dead for like a year and you have an emotionally compromised daughter that didnt handle ur death well

[appleciders]

Rachel + Leah + Water, the Director’s Cut!

Okay, so I made this gifset exploring Rachel and Leah and the ocean, but because there’s a ten gif limit and a major point of gifsets is for them to look nice, I had to sacrifice a lot of the behind the scenes thoughts and initial versions that came along the way. I still wanted to talk about them though, because I found a lot of them really cool, so I figured I’d stick all that in this post. It’s gonna get long, so you can find the rest under the cut!

So first up, we have Leah as we first see her in the water. (I’m using shitty screenshots because tumblr has a 2mb limit for gifs on text posts and I don’t feel like compressing these down lmao.) Here, she’s face-down, unconscious, floating on a fragment of the plane. This is the first time we see any of the girls in the water.

As Leah gives her dramatic speech talks to the detectives, we see flashbacks to the girl’s lives pre-island. There we see that one of them already has a very strong relationship with the water already, in her before-life: Rachel.

Rachel, as we know, is a diver. We see her take a magnificent tumble into the pool, but when she surfaces, her coach is sternly head-shaking. She corrects Rachel’s form, and after she walks away, Rachel echoes the correction, clearly frustrated with herself. 

Back to Leah. We next see Leah waking up on her lil chunk of flotsam. When she realizes what the hell’s going on, she does what we all would do and starts screaming in terror.

Her panic gets interrupted by Jeannette’s classic Raise Your Glass ringtone. (This was my alarm for two years in high school, and when I watched this for the first time I did have an out-of-body experience). She swims her way over to the Hello Kitty suitcase and—irrationally—unzips it, but we’ll cut her some slack because she’s in some serious shock. As she tries to get the phone, it slips through her fingers and starts spiraling down to the bottom of the ocean. She dives after it.

Unfortunately, she quickly runs out of air and has to give up. She then spots Jeannette floating nearby, checks her out, judges her to be “just a little roughed up,” and then sees land and has a big oh-thank-fuck moment. Because we saw Gretchen’s team placing all of the girls, we know that Linh and Leah were the only two that were put out in the open water. The other girls were put in the beach, or, in Martha’s case, near the shore. This was probably done to quell some of Leah’s suspicions about the crash, but it does give me a couple questions about how they got the other girls wet—did they hose them all down? Pour a couple buckets over their heads? Bob each of them up and down a couple times in a big net like fries in a fryer?? 

Anyway, not important. 

Next that we see, Leah has pulled Jeannette/Linh in from the water. (My Australian parents, who can never pass up an opportunity to give ocean safety tips, chimed in at this point in our first watch to say “See how she’s doing it! You always want to hold someone from behind and pull them in that way. Good job, well done.” So there’s some approval for you, Leah.) As Leah nears the shore, Dot and Toni come tearing in and they help pull the two of them out. 

The rest of the episode after that really only concerns fresh water—Toni and Shelby set out in search of it, to no avail, and Nora helpfully plugs Diet Coke reminds us multiple times that sugar’s heavier than water, so “sugar sinks.” We do set up a goal for the next couple episodes, though: Rachel says, “I'm gonna swim out to the plane tomorrow. See if I can find anything,” and Leah volunteers to come with. Rachel gives her a nod of respect.

Moving on to episode two, we have Rachel and Leah’s (iconic) first real conversation. Rachel says she’s still going out to the wreckage. Leah looks out and looks back at her, incredulous, and says, “Rachel, the water’s insane.” Here’s a big recurring association—the water and “insanity.” (I use insanity here because that’s the language they use, along with psycho/crazy. In no way does that reflect my actual beliefs about their behavior nor am I condoning the way they use those words.) Leah points out the rip current (“well done,” said my mum), and explains her very brief stint as a norcal surfer. Rachel still looks set on going, but then Leah says:

Turns out, Leah can be as ripe with foreshadowing as Fatin. This marks the appearance of their second main association with the ocean—death. After she says this, Leah turns Rachel’s attention inland, and the two agree to climb a big hill to scope out their situation.

Episode two is also obviously Rachel’s episode, so we see a lot of her relationship with diving. 

We see her plunge over and over and over again, drilling technique and form, but despite all her hard work, we learn her coach advised her to quit the team. Instead, Rachel throws herself in twice as hard, and ends up with an eating disorder. By the time the nationals come around, she’s too physically weak to dive safely, and she ends up hitting her head as she goes down. She surfaces in the pool with blood flowing around her.

She refuses to see that as the end of her diving career. She says she’s gonna “get back out there” and “be fucking great again” and she tells Nora at the end of the episode that she needs her to let her believe that.

In episode three, we finally see Leah and Rachel’s trip out to the plane! Nora comes along with them, her relationship with Rachel smoothed over after the events of ep two. “Nora’s a good swimmer,” Rachel explains as she invites her, “We were both water babies.” Water’s clearly been central to Nora and Rachel’s identities since they were really young. 

The three of them make their escape from the rest of the girls as the topic of building a shelter comes up. “Not interested in putting down roots!” Rachel calls. In keeping with the elements theme, Rachel isn’t looking to be grounded. She climbs super high into the air and she dives deep into the water, but earth isn’t her thing. (See: the quicksand scene. Whoops.)

Anyway, the three of them paddle out into the water. Rachel dives down, scopes out the plane, tells Nora she doesn’t expect her to “fucking free dive in open water,” and then looks to Leah and asks if she’s ready. Leah reluctantly agrees. 

We get our first shot Rachel swimming down into the ocean and our second shot of Leah (first the phone, second the plane). In the wreckage of the plane, they discover the black box, affixed to the wall. They keep trying to wrench it free, but it’s stuck, and Leah—who’s primary activity is, like, reading—keeps having to surface for air. Rachel gets frustrated and grabs her leg, holding her down. 

Leah screams and fights, but Rachel doesn’t let go. We cut away, and when we see them again, they’ve emerged victorious (Rachel) and drowned as dogs after a bath (Leah and Nora) with the black box in hand. Later, Leah mutters the above line to Fatin, calling Rachel a “psychopath.” For those keeping score at home, here’s where we refer back to the association between water and “insanity.”

In episode four, the ocean benevolently bestows a bag of takis upon Nora, and we have our whole shelter-building shebang. It’s all very land-based until Leah and Fatin go head to head, which ends with Fatin smearing her blood all over Leah’s face. Leah, with her usual flair, strips off her clothes as she walks into the ocean. She stays down there, passively letting the water wash the blood from her face.

This shot parallels a couple things. First, the drifting blood visually parallels Rachel in the pool after her diving injury. Second, we have Rachel staring out at the water where Leah’s disappeared and going, “Man, that is some real Virginia Woolf-type shit.” Dot has no fucking clue what she means, so Fatin interprets: “It means that bitch is crazy. She said you were the psychopath of the group.” Now it’s Leah who’s done something in the water that’s been deemed insane. The water and “insanity;” the water and accusations of insanity within their relationship. 

Those accusations pop up in episode five, but the episode is pretty focused on the inland search for Fatin, and revolves around fresh water, not salt water. (That could be a whole nother post lol.) It’s in episode six where we again see these two return to the ocean. 

Rachel is diving in the ocean! For fun! She’s picking up pretty shells (which granted isn’t the safest thing to do in the pacific, cone snails are not our friends), and she’s grinning, and she’s generally enjoying herself. With the, uh, finale situation, we’re probably not gonna get to see her smile for a bit, which is sad, because she should get to do this more often! This shot visually echoes her diving for the plane and Leah diving for the phone, except she can be in a better mood because there is no end goal. 

So she goes diving, ends up finding a bunch of mussels, gathers ‘em up, and brings ‘em back to camp. They all chow down, but wind up with serious food poisoning. Martha and Toni ring death’s doorbell a couple of times. Rachel blames herself—she’s the one that went swimming out there, she brought the mussels back. Again, we see that connection between the ocean and death.

And that association comes back bright an early in ep seven! The tide surges higher than they’ve ever seen, taking down their shelter and leaving them all scrambling. 

While Leah convinces Fatin that her life is more important than her suitcase, Rachel is left with a decision: help Nora, screaming to her from where she’s clinging to a rock for dear life, or grab the black box. In a move that contrasts Toni’s immediate and unquestioning aid of Martha, Rachel picks the black box. 

After, when they’re debriefing, Nora’s quick to bring it up. She doesn’t hide her hurt. “It happened so fast,” she says, “we all acted irrationally. Like Fatin, who jumped into a rip current to save her toothbrush. Or Rachel, who left me for fucking dead.” I think this counts as a double whammy for the “insanity” and death count—I think “acted irrationally” is as close as Nora gets to calling anyone crazy, and is honestly a better descriptor of all the other instances of “insanity” that we’ve seen, and the ocean was the source of the very real risk to Nora’s life. 

(Honestly, I think Rachel thought she was making a rational choice here—just with some grim fucking calculus. Still, given that nobody’d responded to the black box by then, I think it was a decision fueled by the need to keep hold of hope more than actual rationality.) In a fun contrast to the rest of the episode, it’s Leah that keeps a level head in this situation. 

The rest of the episode is low on water scenes, though Leah’s paranoia about Shelby is fueled by her sneaking off to the water, which could fall under the “insanity” category. It also marks where Nora begins to take an active role in breaking apart Rachel’s fantasy about diving again. 

Ep eight has one of the best montages in a series of great montages, with the playing in the water scene! A plane has seen them, they’re gonna be saved, and they all get to get high and act like kids. 

I have this lingering and probably irrational concern that the entire water play scene is choreographed and that it’s chock-full of foreshadowing. Like I know to some extent they likely were just like “yeah guys go goof off in the water,” but like...the wave pulling Rachel and Nora apart here...I mean.... (Rachel is probably gonna get more blood on Dot in the near future, too. ) That aside, their horseplay gets interrupted when Leah notices some blood on Dot, which Rachel realizes is her own period blood.  

Fatin then chimes in with her ever-gleeful foreshadowing: “Shark week for Rachel.” So while this whole encounter with the water actually seems mostly good for a change, it’s colored by the tie-in to what we know is coming.

In ep nine, reality has set in that rescue isn’t imminent. Everyone’s starving, Leah has started to spiral, and Rachel’s unusually skittish. By the tide’s edge, Nora asks for her help fishing, but Rachel refuses, saying that she’s weak. Nora flicks water at her, and Rachel flinches, clearly scared.

Starvation seems to have triggered Rachel’s trauma around the water leftover from her diving accident. In response, Nora reaches out a hand and says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Meanwhile, Leah’s spiral has reached critical. She starts ranting about the ocean and the water and pushes past Dot, sprinting into the waves:

And so she’s taken to heart the way they think Jeannette’s body “escaped” the island—the tide—and it’s been spun like cotton candy in her head. She’s right, technically—Jeanette/Linh’s body was moved off the island by boat, and there’s definitely an argument that if they really did all swim out Gretchen’s team would save them, or at least try to. This is also a very real suicide attempt. So it’s kind of a culmination of the threats of death and mental health issues that’ve been wrapped up in the ocean since the start.

On Rachel’s end, Nora has taken her up to a cliff. Rachel calls the whole thing “borderline insane,” walking up when they’re so low on energy, but Nora tells her she needs to make a truce between herself and the water. 

“You’re afraid of it now,” she says, and Rachel replies that, “All it ever did was make me sick.” Nora immediately surges forward to say “That’s not true!” Rachel, incredulous, says, “Isn't this what you want? For me to hang it up? For me to forget the whole fucking diving game?” Nora says, “No. I don't know. I don't want you to forget you.” She then tells Rachel she should dive off the end of the cliff, that she marked it to make sure it’s safe. Rachel says she can’t.

There’s a lot here. First, there’s the first time we’ve seen of Rachel explicitly call herself sick. In episode two, even in a treatment center, she still denies it, says she’s just an athlete who knows what it takes. But now she’s reached a place where she acknowledges her eating disorder—and also probably her recent illness with the mussels—and ties it directly to the water. It’s the reason she’s sick.

Nora’s fear that Rachel will forget herself also just hammers home how central the water has always been to Rachel’s identity. Cutting herself off from the water would be cutting off a core part of herself. (...whoops) And we’ve seen that it does bring her actual joy, when she’s allowed to relax with it, but she’s had such traumatic associations rolled up into it now. Nora doesn’t want Rachel to do diving as a sport anymore, because of how badly it’s hurt her, but she does want Rachel to keep diving and swimming as like, a form of unevaluated personal expression.

At the moment that Rachel’s refusing to jump, she and Nora hear shouts from the mainland. They see Fatin and Dot screaming after Leah. Confused, Nora asks, “Where is she going?” but Rachel understands immediately, with absolute certainty, without needing to be told—“To fucking drown to death.” Seven episodes after Leah called heading into the water a death wish, she’s finally proving it true. Rachel squares her shoulders, takes a few deep breaths, and sprints into a dive. 

Unlike all her other dives high altitude dives we’ve seen her do, this dive isn’t qualified based on aesthetics. This dive matters because of what it will do, not on how it looks. And what it does do is bring her into the ocean, where she needs to be for her friend. So with strong strokes, she swims out towards Leah.

When she reaches her, she takes hold of her, pulls her into her chest from behind. She begins to swim with her back to shore. This rescue directly parallels Leah’s rescue of Linh that we talked about above. It also, as the Out in the Wilds podcast insightfully pointed out, really calls Rachel and Leah’s relationship back to the beginning. Whereas Rachel had initially held Leah down in the water, putting her in danger of drowning, Rachel here pulls her out of the water, saving her from drowning. Together, they make it all the way back to the shore.

Finally (and, like, if you’ve made it all the way down here? bless you. thank you), we have episode ten. The ocean doesn’t really figure into episode ten until the very end. Rachel has had a long episode of healing—she’s happy to be full and she’s in a good place with her sister and things seem to be going pretty okay. She decides to heal her relationship with the water, too. She heads out, telling Nora that she’s “Just gonna float, Nor. Just float.”

Just floating. After all the times we saw her plunging into the water, purposefully, with frustration, with drive, with so much to prove and with so much sacrifice and self-abuse to prove it with, Rachel finally just wants to float. She wants to let herself relax. She wants to let the water carry her.

Of course, that means there has to be, like, a massive marine carnivore waiting to mistake her for a seal.

Visually, this shot really parallels the opening shot of Leah on the fragment of plane. Instead of being face-down, though, she’s face-up, and she’s conscious, just not of the threat from below. 

The shark bites.

In a horrible parallel to Leah’s Virginia Woolf moment and Rachel’s diving accident, we see blood pool in the water. Rachel is pulled under. The girls on the land start screaming and running toward her. We know Rachel doesn’t die, but this is still a near-death experience, one that probably cost her her arm. Leah, covered in dirt and her own blood after crawling out of the pit Nora led her into, can only stand and watch, shocked and horrified.

So that got! Way longer than I meant it to! And honestly most of this was condensed into very concise tags in a post I made a few days ago! But if you made it all the way down here, you’ve now seen everything I wanted to fit into that gifset but couldn’t. Thanks for sticking with me, friend <3

[nhl-stories]

Don't Write An Elegy (part eight.one) – Ryan Graves

Masterlist

Author’s Note: In the end I couldn't make a decision so I'm giving these two fuckers alternate endings, hopefully one of the two endings satisfies you or maybe both. I don't necessarily condone a NJ Devils cup win, but I'm doing it for the art. Part eight.two coming tomorrow so keep your eyes peeled and thanks to everyone who stuck with me through the end. It would mean the world if you let me know your final thoughts in a reblog, message, ask, carrier pigeon whatever 🧡

Word Count: 2.1k

…Fuck you for playing games with my heart, And keeping me in the dark…

I hadn’t thought about her in months, but it’s harder to keep her off my mind in Yarmouth. The waves scream her name as they crashed on boats in the marina. The streets are covered in her fingerprints.

It would always be her town, too. Probably more than it was mine.

But at this moment, standing in the bed of a truck holding up the Stanley Cup while driving through the town, people chanting my name, it was my town. The whole scene was so surreal it was easier to put Gretchen in the back of mind. Even when I thought I caught a glimpse of her in the crowd by the fishing boats.

A flash of blue made me think I saw her hair whipping in the sea breeze, but when I look over to wave into the crowd there was no blue haired woman waving back. I scanned the street for her face but still nothing.

Just a mirage from my past.

The last time I had seen her was a week after my trade to New Jersey. She had shown up at my front door in Charlottetown, what I would have called our front door just a few weeks prior.

“I know I’m not technically supposed to bring you the papers, but I thought we should talk before it’s all said and done,” she holds up a manila envelope that is clearly filled with the final touches for our divorce.

I stepped aside and let her in, one last time.

We talked for hours about what we thought really happened and what our time apart to think had brought to the surface. Mostly the realization that we’d never quite be on the same page again. No matter how hard we tried we would always be out of sync and really the best thing to do was to cut loose and start fresh; find the thing or person or whatever that made us feel truly happy again.

Despite the months of lead up to that moment it was a hard thing to swallow: finality. We both cried, held each other while we mourned this era of our lives, the only adult life we ever really knew.

We talked about what scared us going forward. The idea of going into the unknown at 26 when most of our friends had gotten that wake up call years before.

She confided that she was afraid she’d never be able to shake her inhibitions enough to really take the leap towards a life she wanted.

I told her I was worried I never actually learned how to flirt because that’s obviously not what I did well while courting her. The way she laughed was something I wanted to record and remember forever; it turned my bones to a warm jelly and I just wanted float in the feeling.

“I’m worried you’ll always have this power over me and I’ll never let anyone get that close again,” I whispered the real truth.

She placed a hand on my knee and looked so deeply into my eyes I know she could see my soul.

“That rose colored hue you’ve always seen around me will fade. Then you’ll realize all the reasons I sucked and that power will fade. You’ll find someone who deserves the kindest, sweetest man on earth.”

She looked down, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming her, “I’m jealous of her already.”

We talked for a few more hours, I wondered how two people who fell so completely out of love could still talk for so long. I guess history can hold a lot of broken things together.

Then we fucked.

At the time I would have said we made love one last time, but in actuality it was just white-hot passion. Just two bodies becoming one.

We had talked out all our emotions and lust was all that was left, the physical attraction. I didn’t even think I was capable of sex without emotional attachment but that night proved otherwise.

I woke up the next morning in an empty bed. Signed divorce papers on the bedside table and a framed wedding photo missing.

I hadn’t heard from her since. For all I know she isn’t even in Yarmouth anymore. In the early days there was some drunken internet stalking, checking to see who was winning the divorce. The real answer was both of us, but deep down there’s some satisfaction in seeing an ex suffer a little.

Like always she was an enigma. Her social media was mostly a series of blurry photos that could be anywhere. She was never tagged in other people’s posts, never left a geotag or any hint of how she was doing.

I never dwelled too long on thoughts of her. Until today.

Adrenaline and excitement pumps through my veins, but coming back to Yarmouth to celebrate means thinking about all the time Gretchen told me this would happen. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, she’d point down the main drag of town and tell me that I’d be lifting the cup there one day.

It’s hard to completely forget where you came from.

The day goes by without a sighting.

Then I see her.

She’s standing across the way from me at my cup party. I definitely hadn’t seen her before; her hair is now an inky black color. I wonder if it’s her natural color, I can’t remember what it looked like. As she sways in light, blue undertones begin to show, it seems more like her. I’m glad to see she hasn’t completely changed.

I should be angry; I want to be angry. She hid things and lied and pushed me away and basically pulverized my heart. She wasted a decade of my life. But I spent a long time being mad at her, thinking ‘fuck you’ every time she crossed my mind.

After a while it felt stale to dwell on it. My mom’s words would start to float through my brain, ‘you got to feel a love that a lot of people never get to experience in this life. So, don’t think of it as a failure just cherish it.’ Once the words really sunk in, I stopped hating her quite as much. I finally started to open my heart again.

She’s clearly debating whether or not she should come up to me before we make eye contact. Then she smiles and even if I don’t want to, I feel something warm and gooey in my stomach, the power she has isn’t quite as strong, but it’s still there.

“Congratulations, I’m so proud of you!”

She throws herself at me and I stumble back, trying to balance as I catch her. I think she decided to just go for it before she could second guess the physical contact,

“Uh, thanks it’s really cool,” I respond lamely

She smirks, “yeah- uh- it’s cool? That’s how you’re going to react, you’re a Stanley fucking Cup Champion.”

She slaps my chest playfully, maybe this isn’t as awkward as I’m making it in my head.

“Really there’s no words to describe how crazy it is, like everything’s been a blur since we won.”

I look down and notice her ring finger, a gravestone tattoo still very much there, she must catch me staring.

“I just added the dates 2013-2021,” she holds up her hand and sure enough etched in a tiny font are the birth and death dates of our marriage.

“That’s fucking morbid,” I chuckle.

Her eyes flick to my own ring finger, the tanline faded away long ago, any reminder of our marriage gone.

She shrugs, “I couldn’t justify covering it up just because I can, I want to replace it with something good.”

We’re dumbly smiling at each other, not quite sure how to navigate this encounter.

“What are you doing here?” I finally break our trance, a little to curtly.

“Oh. Your mom invited me.”

“My mom?”

“Don’t worry she doesn’t talk to me all the time or anything, she just let me know about it last time I was in town. But if you don’t want me to be here, I can head out. I just wanted to say congrats.”

“Well, I–“ I’m cut off by an arm wrapping around my waist.

“Sorry, I know you’re mid-convo, just haven’t seen you in a bit.”

The tall brunette gives me a kiss before turning to Gretchen who doesn’t seem to be phased at all.

“You must be Emily,” Gretchen smiles and holds out her hand, an array of new tattoos coming into view as the sleeve on her dress rides up her arm, “his mom talks about you a lot, I’m Gretchen Graves.”

Emily shakes her hand not sure who she’s talking to, probably assuming it’s some cousin. Gretchen beats me to the punch on intros while I’m still processing the last name, “I’m the ex-wife.”

Emily is a little flustered, she knows I have an ex-wife but didn’t think she would meet her. Especially since we’ve been together for less than a year and my divorce is still fresh. I feel bad that I clearly didn’t mention this as a possibility.

“Don’t worry, our relationship blew up spectacularly, I’m just here as an estranged friend, or really just a proud hometown bystander.”

Gretchen’s spell works as usual and I can feel Emily loosen up a bit, her grip seems a bit less protective, less territorial.

“But you kept my last name?”

“My maiden name is Cockburn. In what world would I give up a sick alliteration to go back to that? If I had to hear one more joke about how Gretchen will make your Cockburn I think I would have killed myself.”

I smile at the memory. Of high school Gretchen telling off dumb jocks by saying if their real goal was to sleep with her why would they make STD jokes about her. I guess the thick skin comes with the territory with a name like that.

“So, there were ulterior motives for marrying me,” I smirk, it’s still so easy to talk to her.

“You know it, get that visa, get that last name.”

“So… how have you been?”

“Good, I live in Los Angeles now.”

“Really? Wow.”

“It’s only been for six months or so, I got a job as a session musician at a recording studio. The job is fun but I fucking hate LA.”

I can’t help but laugh, I know I should probably move on and talk to other people, there’s a crowd of people who I haven’t really caught up with, but everyone also seems to be giving us our space, they know we haven’t talked. And they probably want to witness any town drama that might arise from this moment.

“I mean, I like being by the ocean again, but I’m too Canadian for it; I need some cold.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” I don’t know why I ask; I don’t think I actually want the answer, especially in front of my new significant other.

“No one important,” she shrugs.

There’s a bit of a pause, a moment that reminds us we’re not lovers anymore, not even friends; that despite everything we’ve been through we’re merely acquaintances and this is a natural end to our conversation.

“I’d ask you the same questions but,” she gestures to the Cup and then to Emily.

I politely chuckle before the silence settles in again.

“I’ll get out of your hair, just wanted to say I’m really proud of you.”

She starts to turn away with an awkward wave, “Do you want to drink out of the Cup? I know it’s on your bucket list.”

She gives me that smile again, the one that’s clearly reserved for me until the end of time. Under the twinkle lights my mom has strung up Gretchen looks like the woman I married, nervous but sure. My heart aches for a moment, a reminder of the decade of love lost.

When I begin the tip the cup towards her lips her hand brushes mine and there’s no electric current. The blood in my veins doesn’t go into hyperdrive. Proof I really survived this heartbreak.

When I set the cup back down, the smile is back, she gives me a quick, awkward hug. My eyes follow her until she disappears amongst the crowd.

I look over to Emily, someone I can see myself growing old with even after such a short time. Maybe I just fall in love too quickly. But Emily is kind and open and warm in ways you have to be born with, in ways you can never learn no matter how hard you try.

Gretchen was my soul mate for a time, but Emily could be my soul mate, too. And I was ready to find that all-consuming love again. And despite my better judgement, the tiny part of me that still loves Gretchen, hopes she can find it too.

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on... some funny games

[no spoilers to speak of]

Thoughts on Lair of the Clockwork God

The wisdom of the gaming cognoscenti insists that comedy is hard to do in video games. Having grown up with Monkey Island and Zork, I've never found this convincing. But one true thing is this: it's hard to write about comedic games. The ineffability of humor is hard enough to describe in less-interactive media; I can't even explain to my partner why Gretchen saying "I met January Jones once!" on You're the Worst busted me up, and they were sitting right next to me when she said it. Throw in the "you had to be there" nature of the player's active participation and I lose myself in a cornfield. The thing I found hilarious might come a beat to early for you, or not at all, or not be funny in text like it is in gameplay.

Why did I like Lair of the Clockwork God? It made me laugh.

The premise and particulars are a lot of "that could go either way." Ben and Dan - stars of Ben There, Dan That and Time Gentleman, Please! - have returned. Ben is still an adventure game star, but Dan has adopted platforming mechanics in an attempt to get with the times. So playing the game involves switching back and forth between a character who can leap across canyons but can't pick up items or talk to people, and one who can combine inventory but can't climb over a 3-pixel rock.

Does that sound potentially funny? Potentially grating? Yes to both!

The plot centers around our heroes trying to save the world from several simultaneous apocalypses and having to teach human emotions to a supercomputer in order to do so. (Don't ask.) These means, rather like Ben There, Dan That, traipsing through a number of fantasy worlds (read: computer simulations) until the correct emotion is provoked. This requires cross-genre cooperation: finding ways to get Ben to areas only Dan can access, getting Dan new power ups by combining objects in Ben's inventory (an act Dan insists on calling "crafting").

The best bits are at these intersections, when Dan's platforming is the puzzliest and Ben's puzzles take advantage of Dan's skills. Periodically the game gives you a Dan-centric platforming gauntlet the controls are NOT precise nor pleasant enough for, or a Ben-only moon logic puzzle that leaves you googling the walkthrough.

But I liked it! A lot. The genre-hopping seems to have invigorated the developers, Ben Ward and Dan Marshall. I discussed my favorite joke in Ben There, Dan That (in what is probably the least popular video I've ever made that wasn't asking for money), but was also dismayed that the game was never that clever again. But this one is, several times over! Progression here involves cheating your way to a better respawn zone, goofing around in game menus, exploiting "glitches," exiting out and loading up entirely other games. There is a lot of poking and prodding at what a game of this nature can or should be.

But, honestly? The only real selling point is... it was funny. The humor is as anarchic and metatextual as in previous titles, but it feels good-natured in a way BT,DT didn't. And there are, here and there, little bits of meat on its bones - the characters wondering if, as a couple thirtysomething white guys, the world hasn't left them behind, no longer comfortable with the juvenile humor of their youth but not really understanding the youth of today, but having not yet fully escaped the mentalities they used to hold. (There's an unspoken humor to Dan's idea of "modern" gameplay being 2D platforming mechanics, especially at a time when adventure games are significantly more popular than on his last outing; this is a good joke whether or not it's intentional.)

Also: this game contains the most poignant urinating-on-a-grave puzzle in gaming history, and you may quote me on that.

Having finished it months ago, I can't even remember what all the gags were that tickled me at the time. Comedy fades from memory faster than drama or frustration. Mostly I just remember having a good time.

Thoughts on The Darkside Detective

Here's a hook: sometime after the mayhem ends in Ghostbusters, The Exorcist, Evil Dead 2, or some other paranormal blockbuster that you watched over and over in the 90's until the VHS wore out, some overworked detective has to come into your town and piece together what the hell happened.

This is his story.

It's a good gag, and the devs wring every drop from it. Existing in a world where these things are commonplace and you have to fit them into some notion of "police procedure" is just funny. Like, it's one thing to have a running gag where you keep observing the moon in outdoor scenes, commenting, with increasing hostility, that its behavior is suspicious (it has been present at multiple crime scenes); it's a slightly different thing when, given the things you've encountered, the moon being the Big Bad is actually somewhat possible.

The game is divided into six main cases and three bonus DLC missions (which come included in the base game now, and the third of which is the proper ending/setup for the sequel). You are the cop tasked to deal with The Other Side - and, when The Other Side bleeds into our own world, its cops have to deal with you. You have a sidekick with a mental maturity of about 6, which I guess makes you the straight man. (You have to grade on a curve to find a straight man in this game.) And you solve tasks like rounding up escaped gremlins or finding an AWOL lake monster all juxtaposed with mundane problems like inter-office squabbles and having not bought your Christmas presents early enough. It's (pleasantly) lo-res and sparsely isolated, so the dialogue and premise do most of the work, but they are ably up to the task.

The gameplay... not so much. I'm an adventure game lifer, so I can put up with a lot of nonsense. It's mostly straightforward inventory puzzles and occasional minigames. Most of the puzzles are fine enough. As the cases progress, things get more involved, and the DLCs especially involve some awful moon logic. And the minigames are not above using that same jumping peg puzzle you've solved in a dozen other games already. So gameplay ranges from serviceable to irritating, but it mostly exists to string together funny lines and silly images. (Christmas mall elves being secretly in service to Krampus - that's the kind of thing we're talking about here.) You won't feel much guilt for opening up a walkthrough; the puzzles aren't why you're here.

The sequel has just been released, and both games are cheap, so check them out if you feel like smiling.

Thoughts on The Procession to Calvary

It's rare for a game to be hilarious to look at.

The Procession to Calvary takes its name from the Bruegel painting. It also takes all it's graphics from Renaissance oil paintings, and the designer delights in making famously rendered heroes and religious icons steal, stab, fart, and swear.

A strong Terry-Gilliam-with-After-Effects vibe is what we're describing.

You play as a lady knight from a war that's just ended, which sucks for you because, in this age of peace, you're no longer authorized to kill. And killing's, like, you're whole thing. But the one person your new, pacifist king wouldn't stop you from killing is the warlord you just deposed, who fled to the South. So you embark on a nonsensical journey to seek out the one human on Earth you are authorized to kill, because killing is just The. Best. Ever.

Of the three games we're discussing, this is the most overtly cheeky, and, at times, the most scatological. I could've done with a bit less scatology, if I'm being honest, but the cheekiness is very winning. As with Lair of the Clockwork God, a lot of jokes could go either way - a field of people being tortured and a woman on a blanket selling commemorative torture merch could be painfully try-hard. But something about the victims being seemingly everyone ever crucified or broken on the wheel in a famous painting, and having them writhe on their crosses in a way that is both gruesome and goofy, and having a cacophonous soundtrack of their screams and moans that you will now imagine every time you look at one of those elegantly elegiac paintings from now on... it works. That the music score is being played by an extremely jaunty piper who dances behind you just out of sword's reach as you traverse the field pushes it over the top.

Oh, and the puzzles, while never hair-pullingly obtuse, will leave you stumped at times. Push past that to get the proper ending, but, if you're sick of trying, you can, at any point, just start stabbing your way through problems. Which, again: it takes a very deft touch to make "protagonist resorts to violence" actually funny rather than lazy and obvious. And maybe, in another game, the perfect timing of every animation, the clever quips, the careful contrast of cathedrals and high-society music halls with gleeful sword-swinging wouldn't be enough. But something about it being frickin' Renaissance paintings carries it the last mile.

This is probably the basest game of the three, but it's also the one that made me giggle the most. Having a BFA that required several art history classes may have something to do with it. But check this thing out.

[mistydacat]

Marichat May Day 7 || Disguise

Thank you to @/ typewritings and @ /Justine559 for helping me write this chapter! And to @ /MiraculousPotatouwu for helping me fix the mistakes! Their accounts are on Wattpad.

Marinette and Cat Noir sat together on Marinette's chaise lounge, eating a bowl of popcorn and watching Mean Girls. For some reason, Cat Noir had insisted on that movie, claiming it was a "sleepover classic." When Marinette asked if it would make him feel awkward, he only shrugged and said, "Why would it? I'm mature enough to go "Ewww" when people make out. It's just a movie."

"Gretchen, stop trying to make 'fetch' happen, it's NOT going to happen."

Marinette giggled at the iconic line, which made Cat Noir smile.

Then his ring beeped. Marinette was too focused on the movie to hear it, but Cat Noir did. He didn't normally detransform from being in costume for too long, but he'd arrived at Marinette's around ten o'clock at night, and it was now well past three in the morning.

"Can you please pause it for a second? I need to, um... do something." He asked, getting up.

"Is something wrong?" Asked Marinette, getting up and pausing the movie on her computer.

"No, um... I'll be back in a few minutes. Cat Noir climbed up the ladder to Marinette's bed and opened the trapdoor, leaping out. He jumped off of the balcony and into the alleyway next to the bakery before detransforming.

"No one told me you'd be at your girlfriend's house for five hours!" Complained Plagg, the moment Adrien dropped his transformation.

"I told you I was gonna go over to her house for a sleepover!"

"I thought you meant you'd take a nice nap, not spend the night! Now, where's my cheese? I'm starving!"

Adrien reached into his breast-pocket, expecting to find a piece of camembert cheese, but there was nothing there.

"Shoot." He muttered.

What?" Asked Plagg.

"I forgot to bring cheese..?"

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

What's taking Cat Noir so long to get back? He said he'd only take a few minutes. Wondered Marinette, starting to get worried.

"Should I go outside and check if he's nearby?" she asked Tikki.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to check." Her kwami chirped.

Marinette went up to her balcony, looking around for her lost cat. She was about to give up when she heard his voice from the alleyway, she couldn't make out what he was saying, but it sounded like he was talking to someone. Curious, Marinette decided to go investigate.

She climbed down the ladder and stairs then quietly left the bakery and into the alleyway.

"Cat Noir?" She called, out, sticking her head out the door. "Are you there?"

"Marinette?" She heard his voice respond, but she didn't see him.

She heard a loud crashing noise, followed by a groan.

"Are you okay?" She asked, concerned that he had hurt himself.

"I'm fine!" He called, emerging from behind the dumpster. Marinette caught sight of what he was wearing and burst into laughter.

It seemed that he was detransformed, and her suspicions were confirmed true when she caught sight of the floating black cat kwami.

"What on Earth are you wearing?!" The young fashion designer exclaimed once she was done with her laughing fit.

"Well, you see..." Cat Noir started awkwardly. "My kwami needed food, and I forgot to bring some. I couldn't risk you finding out my identity and putting yourself in danger because of something stupid that I did, so I made this." He gestured towards his cardboard ensemble.

Marinette giggled. "I appreciate you thinking about me. Would you like me to bring your kwami some food?" She asked.

Cat Noir beamed at her, though she couldn't see it through the cardboard box covering his head and face. "That would be great."

"Does he have any preferences?"

"Cheese! Preferably camembert..." Plagg zipped towards her.

"But he'll take anything and be grateful for it. Right, Plagg?" Cat Noir shot the small kwami a glare.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"Well, I don't have any camembert, but I have some cheese croissants. Will those do?"

Plagg sighed. "Well, they aren't my precious camembert, but it'll have to do."

"Alright, I'll be right back with the food. You stay here. The cardboard will make too much noise if you come in, and it'll wake up my parents."

"Yeah, okay." Cat Noir agreed, nodding his head. The cardboard box shook and caused Marinette to let out another giggle before going back into the bakery.

"I'll be right back, Cardboard Noir."

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

A few croissants later, Plagg was outside with "Cardboard Noir," as Marinette had dubbed him. She had her back facing to them so he could take off the cardboard and transform.

"Plagg, claws out!"

Once the transformation was over, they went back into Marinette's room and finished the movie. It was extremely late by the time they were done, and the two agreed that it was probably best if they headed to bed. Marinette lay in her own bed, while Cat Noir curled up on the chaise, with a soft blanket and pillow generously provided by Marinette.

At some point in the night, the two confessed to being unable to sleep and ended up cuddling together in Marinette's bed until they fell asleep to the sound of each other's heartbeat.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The next time Cat Noir came to visit, Marinette had a gift for him.

"This is for me?" He asked, taken aback. He held the wrapped box in his hands, examining it.

"Don't open it yet!" Instructed Marinette. She led him towards the bathroom. "Open it here!"

Cat Noir was confused, but he still complied, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He opened up the box carefully and was greeted with a note.

Detransform and put these on.

"Claws in." Cat Noir said, dropping his transformation as directed. He picked the first item from the box, a black drawstring-hoodie with a bright green pawprint at the front. He smiled and looked through the other contents of the box.

There was a pair of comfy-looking black pants, and black socks covered in more green pawprints, which made him smile. There was also a fabric mask, the same shape as his own.

But what made Adrien laugh was the garment at the bottom: A headband with furry cat ears.

"Wow, you're girlfriend is really good at this." Plagg gushed uncharacteristically. "Do you think she could make something for me?"

"You're right." Agreed Adrien, admiring the clothes before undressing and pulling them on.

He looked at himself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. Did he seem too much like Adrien? Would she recognize him? To be safe, he raked his hand through his hair and ruffled it. That was better.

He stepped out of the bathroom, giddy with joy at having received a gift that someone had worked so hard to make.

"What do you think?" Asked Marinette, beaming at him. He almost laughed at the fact that she seemed more excited than him.

"It's incredible! I love it so much! Wow, I don't know what to say. You made this? For me? In two days?"

Marinette flushed slightly. "Well, I did make them for you. I started working on them a while ago, but I didn't know if I should give them to you. Since the "Cardboard Noir" incident, I thought I could finally add the finishing touches. I can keep them here for you, and you can detransform and put them on whenever you come. That way, your kwami won't get tired. Also, I figured you'd be more comfortable sleeping in these over your costume."

Cat Noir was near tears at this point. No one had ever put that much thought and effort into a gift for him in so long, but here was Marinette, who had probably spent weeks on these and was acting like it was no big deal.

"Is something wrong?" Asked Marinette, noticing the little tears droplets running down his cheeks.

Cat Noir enveloped her into a hug.

"You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much, and not just for the clothes. I love you, Marinette. I really mean it. Don't you ever forget that."

Marinette placed a hand on his back, rubbing circles against it as he leaned into it. She silently pondered what could've been going on in Cat Noir's life for him to be this emotional over a present, but didn't pry.

"Mark my words, mon chaton," She started. "I am going to spoil you with gifts and lobe and cuddles and affection every time you come here. You have no say in this." She promised.

"You really don't have to." Countered Cat Noir. He pulled himself away to look at her, though his arms still remained loosely wrapped around her.

"No, I do. And I want to. I forbid you from arguing with that."

"Or what?"

"Or... you're grounded." She threatened.

Cat Noir laughed.

"Now," Began Marinette. "Let's see how much of your cat tendencies need the ring to function, and how much come from just being the black cat miraculous holder." Marinette sat on the chaise, opening her arms out towards him.

Adrien accepted her invitation to cuddle, leaning his head against her chest and closing his eyes.

"You're still a sucker for cuddles," Marinette said, then asked, "Can you purr?"

"Sometimes." He murmured.

Marinette brought a hand to his head, but instead of scratching behind his cat ears like she would when he was Cat Noir, she ran her hands through his hair, as though she was using her hand as a comb.

Adrien sighed in happiness, and sure enough, a low rumble sounded from his throat.

"You two are sickeningly gross." Grumbled Plagg. Adrien had forgotten about him. "Now, what smells so good in here?"

"I brought up a few things for you," Marinette said to the kwami of destruction, gesturing towards her desk where a plate sat, white serviettes covering it. Plagg removed the napkins, revealing a few slices of camembert, fresh bread, and a bowl of milk.

"I figured since you'd be staying here more often, you might as well enjoy it." Explained Marinette.

Plagg looked Adrien dead in the eye and said: "Listen, kid. This girl here is a keeper. If you break her heart, I will break you."

Marinette giggled.

"If I ever break this beautiful girl's heart, you have full permission to cataclysm me away."

They left Plagg to his snack, and Adrien snuggled closer to Marinette, as she continued threading her fingers through his hair, looking at him with so much love and adoration he almost cried.

"You're too nice," Adrien said.

"Stop with that. I didn't do anything you didn't deserve." Marinette placed a soft kiss his on his forehead, and Adrien was practically over the moon with elation.

"I love you so much." He mumbled into her collarbone.

"I love you too, minou."

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

[i-am-grell]

Stuck in Quarantine? Here are some (Mostly) YA Book Recs that (probably) won’t be on other people’s lists!

Forgotten by Cat Patrick

Every night, while sixteen-year-old London Lane is asleep, her memory of that day is erased. In the morning, all she can “remember” are events from her future. London is used to relying on reminder notes and a trusted friend to get through the day, but things get complicated when Luke Henry enters the picture. Luke is not someone you’d easily forget, yet try as she might, London can’t find him in her memories of things to come.

When London starts experiencing disturbing flash-forwards, she sets out to learn about the past she keeps forgetting - before it destroys her future.

Mosquitoland by David Arnold

After the sudden collapse of her family, Mim Malone is dragged from her home in northern Ohio to the “wastelands” of Mississippi, where she lives in a medicated milieu with her dad and new stepmom. Before the dust has a chance to settle, she learns her mother is sick back in Cleveland.

So she ditches her new life and hops aboard a northbound Greyhound bus to her real home and her real mother, meeting a quirky cast of fellow travelers along the way. But when her thousand-mile journey takes a few turns she could never see coming, Mim must confront her own demons, redefining her notions of love, loyalty, and what it means to be sane.

Told in an unforgettable, kaleidoscopic voice, Mosquitoland is a modern American odyssey, as hilarious as it is heartbreaking.

Masque of the Red Death by Bethany Griffin

Everything is in ruins. A devastating plague has decimated the population, and those who are left live in fear of catching it as the city crumbles around them.

So what does Araby Worth have to live for?

Nights in the Debauchery Club, beautiful dresses, glittery makeup...and tantalizing ways to forget it all.

But in the depths of the club - in the depths of her own despair - Araby will find more than oblivion. She will find Will, the terribly handsome proprietor of the club, and Elliott, the wickedly smart aristocrat. Neither is what he seems. Both have secrets. Everyone does.

And Araby may find not just something to live for, but something to fight for - no matter what it costs her.

Switched by Amanda Hocking

When Wendy Everly was six years old, her mother was convinced she was a monster and tried to kill her. Eleven years later, Wendy discovers her mother might have been right. She’s not the person she’s always believed herself to be, and her whole life begins to unravel - all because of Finn Holmes.

Finn is a mysterious guy who always seems to be watching her. Every encounter leaves her deeply shaken...though it has more to do with her fierce attraction to him than she’d ever admit. But it isn’t long before he reveals the truth: Wendy is a changeling who was switched at birth - and he’s come to take her home.

Now Wendy’s about to journey to a magical world she never knew existed, one that’s both beautiful and frightening. And where she must leave her old life behind to discover who she’s meant to become...

Bloodsucking Fiends by Christopher Moore

Jody never asked to become a vampire. But when she wakes up under and alley Dumpster with a badly burned arm, an aching back, superhuman strength, and a distinctly Nosferatuan thirst, she realizes the decision has been made for her.

Making the transition from the nine-to-five grind to an eternity of nocturnal prowlings is going to take some doing, however, and that’s where C. Thomas Flood fits in. A would-be Kerouac from Incontinence, Indiana, Tommy (to his friends) is biding his time night-clerking and frozen-turkey bowling in a San Francisco Safeway. But all that changes when a beautiful undead redhead walks through the door...and proceeds to rock Tommy’s life - and afterlife - in ways he never thought possible.

Bloodthirsty by Flynn Meaney

Attention, all girls reading this:

We get it. The message is coming through loud and clear: You think vampires are hot. Your little sister thinks vampires are hot. Your mom thinks vampires are hot. Every single female on the face of the earth thinks vampires are hot. Girls love vampires, and I love girls. Unfortunately, girls don’t seem to love me.

So I’m making a change. For all the guys reading this, say a little prayer to the high school dating gods for me. Here’s hoping that girls think fake vampires are hot, too.

Awkward and allergic to the sun, sixteen-year-old Finbar Frame never gets the girl. But when he notices that all the female students at his school are obsessed with a vampire romance novel called Bloodthirsty, Finbar decides to boldly go where no sane guy has gone before - he becomes a vampire, minus the whole bloodsucking part.

With his brooding nature and unusually pale skin, it’s surprisingly easy for Finbar to pretend to be supernatural. But when he meets the one girl who just might like him for who he really is, he discovers that life as a pseudo-vampire is more complicated than he expected.

This hilarious debut novel is for anyone who believes that sometimes even nice guys - without sharp teeth or sparkly skin - can get the girl.

I’m Not Your Manic Pixie Dream Girl by Gretchen McNeil

Beatrice Maria Estrella Giovannini has life all figured out. She’s starting senior year at the top of her class, she’s a shoo-in for a scholarship to MIT, and she’s got a new boyfriend she’s crazy about. The only problem: All through high school Bea and her best friends, Spencer and Gabe, have been the targets of horrific bullying.

So Bea uses her math skills to come up with the Formula, a 100% mathematically guaranteed path to social happiness in high school. Now Gabe is on his way to becoming student body president, and Spencer is finally getting his art noticed. But when her boyfriend dumps her for Toile, the quirky new girl at school, Bea realizes it’s time to use the Formula for herself. She’ll be reinvented as eccentric and lovable Trixie - a quintessential manic pixie dream girl - in order to win her boyfriend back and beat Toile at her own game.

Unfortunately, being a manic pixie dream girl isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and “Trixie” is causing unexpected consequences for her friends. As the Formula begins to break down, can Bea find a way to fix everything she’s messed up? Or will the casualties of her manic pixie experiment go far deeper than she could possibly imagine?

Starters by Lissa Price

A girl with a terrifying choice. Her parents? Dead. Her brother? Sick. Her way out? Get paid to be somebody else. Who can she trust? No one.

Callie lost her parents when the Spore Wars wiped out everyone between the ages of twenty and sixty. She and her little brother, Tyler, are on the run, living as squatters with their friend Michael and fighting off renegades who would kill them for a cookie.

Callie’s only hope is Prime Destinations, a disturbing place in Beverly Hills run by a mysterious figure known as the Old Man. He hires teens to rent their bodies to Enders - seniors who want to be young again. Callie, desperate for the money that will keep her, Tyler, and Michael alive, agrees to be a donor. But the neurochip they place in Callie’s head malfunctions and she wakes up in the life of her renter, living in her mansion, driving her cars, and going out with a senator’s grandson.

It feels almost like a fairy tale, until Callie discovers that her renter intends to do more than party - and that Prime Destinations’ plans are more evil than Callie could ever have imagined...

[artificialqueens]

who we are and who we are not [trixya] - pinkgrapefruit

There’s a hint of an ocean hidden in the back of Katya’s eyes and Trixie is so sure she’s seen it before.

*

It begins in Australia. (It begins in an idyllic neighbourhood both above and below and to the left of Trixie’s office.) She agrees to help this confused blonde with a rats’ nest of hair in a messy bun and the bags under her eyes that carry more secrets than Gretchen’s hair, and she cannot decide why. There is something uniquely compelling behind the river of her eyes, and Trixie just wants to spend the upcoming weekend sunbathing on its banks, drinking margarita slushies, and reading poetry.

[the good place au]

A/N - you should never have let me express my love of other fandoms because this au has been in the works for months and after the harry potter au response you’re all insane to think I’m not posting this. thank you to jazz and frey for being fantastic cheerleaders and grammar checkers and i really hope you like it because I do. i’m not at all sorry and you don’t really need knowledge of the good place to read this

*

There’s a hint of an ocean hidden in the back of Katya’s eyes and Trixie is so sure she’s seen it before.

*

It begins that first day, in her office.

It ends there too in due course, and then starts there again, so much harder and more painful than before because she thought she was finally over it, and because Katya.

There’s more to it than that, though. So much more.

*

It begins in Australia. (It begins in an idyllic neighbourhood both above and below and to the left of Trixie’s office.) She agrees to help this confused blonde with a rats’ nest of hair in a messy bun and the bags under her eyes that carry more secrets than Gretchen’s hair, and she cannot decide why. There is something uniquely compelling behind the river of her eyes, and Trixie just wants to spend the upcoming weekend sunbathing on its banks, drinking margarita slushies, and reading poetry.

So she agrees to help. And it starts off with just them, in Trixie’s office, when she’s pretending to be marking grad student essays praising Kant for ideas that Hume created, but instead, trying to figure out why a woman who decided she needed help, needed her. Katya says she watched her lectures ( What we owe to each other ), and when Trixie looks, really looks into her eyes, she sees hope and fear and something so deep she needs a ladder on hand before she goes any closer - and she swears she’s seen that look before -

They’re in the kitchen sat on the bench which should not be comfortable, save for the way Katya shoved all of their throws down the back of it to pad it out. They’re in the kitchen, looking at the television playing a VCR of them - in a bed.

Katya on the tape was smiling. She looked happy and in love. ‘I did that,’ Trixie thinks. ‘I made her look like that.’ And she feels a warmth pulsate behind her left ribcage.

“So, yeah, I guess… do you… I don’t know. Do you have any feeling like that for me… again… now?” She asks.

And then Trixie blinks and she is a stranger again.

It begins with the stark feeling that maybe this is the most important moment of her life.

*

Katya bullies her into asking Bob out. She’s smart, Trixie will give her that. She knows just how to trap her.

(It’s almost as if they’ve known each other for years.)

The dinner could have gone better. It’s stilted - awkward. The back and forth feels wrong and Bob - while she’s wonderful - she feels; odd. She takes too long to order and Bob snatches the menu out of her hands, and that’s how she ends up eating goats cheese. She’s a little bit allergic, but she really likes Bob. She’ll figure the rest out later.

The vase is the same blue as Katya’s eyes.

*

It’s a few weeks later and Katya has graduated from sitting in the back of class, bullying Australian undergrads for their pronunciation of Kant to making actual progress. Tangible progress that looks like tipping servers and clearing the lecture hall. And she’s talking about one student - a quiet one with good ideas and strong morals, Jasmine - maybe and -

“We’ll get some information, Hey Jan!” She calls, and this Trixie is sure of herself when she speaks, spoon full of froyo balanced on the edge of her cup.

A blonde comes out of nowhere. She’s dressed like a seventies air hostess, and even though she’s not breathing, she looks so human Trixie swears there’s a ghost of a rise in her chest.

That Katya jumps with a gasp. “Who the fork are you?” she asks like she needs to know.

“This is Jan - she’s like a database for all knowledge. You can ask her anything you want.”

“Hi,” Jan says. It’s robotic, but not inhuman, and the juxtaposition is unnerving.

“Jan… Was Violet in love with me in fifth grade?” Katya winks.

“Yasmine,” Trixie corrects breathlessly. “You could learn something from her - she’s good.”

“Yeah, but then why would I need you?” Katya jumps off the desk she’s been sat on and pads out of the hall, her flannel slung around her waist. Trixie pushes the glasses up her nose and leans her head on the cool wall for a moment. She needs a moment.

*

Katya wins eighteen thousand dollars. Monét starts dating the black sheep of West Industries. Vanessa goes to yoga for five minutes before she realises it’s not what she signed up for, but she stays for the hot ex-ballerina instructor because watching her do some of the poses means she doesn’t have to do them herself. Trixie sees the librarian and a blonde woman popping champagne and whispering in the abandoned journalism department. She leaves them to it. Life is good.

(It’s not though.)

(If there is a hell, this is it.)

Being like Katya is like teetering on the very edge of a cliff. She’s fighting not to fall forwards into the ocean blue of her eyes, but she can’t bear to fall back onto solid, safe earth either. She learns to be content with the rough-edged, precarious thing that isn’t quite love, but at the same time isn’t not, that she knows cannot last.

Eventually, she is going to fall one way or another. She will lose her either way.

She shouldn’t be thinking about her.

(She never stops)

She’s with Bob. She loves Bob. Probably-

“It’s not that I don’t love you,” she says, and Katya’s face falls and there’s a sharp ache in her chest. “I could, logistically. You’re funny, and intelligent and your face is… symmetrical.”

(Wow.)

(Symmetrical)

(They’re going to the bad place and she calls her symmetrical.)

(And she cannot save Katya, but she wants to.)

Nine months in and Bob tells her she loves her, and Trixie’s response could make E.E. Cummings cry.

“Oh, why?”

And she tells Katya the next day, who punches her arm relentlessly for fifteen minutes, all while berating her using language that would also make Cummings cry if he heard them. Katya wants her to love Bob. She doesn’t dream of the two of them walking around a lake in an idyllic neighbourhood - wrapped in blankets that smell of hope and happiness.

That’s fine. Because neither does Trixie.

“You make my head feel like a fork in the garbage disposal.”

*

She has to do it. She has to fall backwards onto the safe earth that feels like lecture hall carpet and smells like Bob’s perfume. But she can’t.

Not when every stolen moment feels so right. Not when Katya’s eyes knit together to form a patchwork blanket of hope and promise and intricacies Trixie wouldn’t be able to unravel with forever on the line. Not when Katya fit so perfectly in her arms - and Trixie doesn’t believe in soulmates-

“Hi, I’m Trixie Mattel, I’m your soulmate.” She waves, a little stilted, but the grin on her face that worms it’s way up to her eyes quicker than she thought possible discounts any fear she may have. And Jan stands there looking happy for them.

“Bring it in man.” Katya hugs her, and her flannels smell like hiking in summer sun and the feeling of dew between your toes.

(“We will find each other and we will help each other because we are soulmates”)-

Trixie cannot believe in soulmates.

(It would be dangerous, and she’s trying to avoid dangerous.)

*

It’s an awful idea.

Really terrible.

“You are very lucky I can’t send you to the Bad Idea place, because that one is a stanker.”

It’s a double date.

She’s not quite sure how that became a thing, and she’s not quite sure how it differs from the Brainy Bunch before they became the Brainy Bunch, before Monét and Vanessa, and then Brooke and Nina.

When it was just her and Katya, and she thought it was going to stay that way forever.

*

Bob picks the restaurant. She finds one of her friends who is free on Friday night as a date for Katya, who is almost as symmetrical as Katya (according to Bob, who may have used the word ‘handsome’, but it just doesn’t do her justice, does it? Like she’s some sort of ornamental flower pot, because have you ever seen a non-symmetrical flower pot. Don’t answer that, because Vanessa made Nina a very lopsided pink one for her birthday, that she uses to house Katya’s peace lily that she donated so it could actually survive - but that’s not the main focus right now). But apparently the man won’t get drunk and cause a riot like Katya might, which is fine. Trixie thinks Bob might have superpowers. It’s going to be fine.

She is totally fine that Katya is going on a date with a symmetrical man.

It’s fine -

“ You guys gotta scram, my soulmate has something planned for me.”

Her soulmate is Simon and he gets Katya all the time - not a precious few hours a week. He likes jazz operas and cowboy hats, and Trixie thinks he’s a poor fit for her, but she seems happy.

He has everything Trixie wants and sometimes it seems like he doesn’t even want it.

*

It goes south before they step foot in the restaurant.

She’s sure Bob’s friend is lovely, but he starts to talk about how he’s on this new diet where you can eat anything that’s seafood except shrimp, because shrimp is awful, and Trixie places a hand on Katya’s arm before she can leap to shrimps defence as Bob changes the subject onto something that will end with less bloodshed.

It doesn’t improve inside.

Katya, in the seat next to her, starts making an underhanded commentary about the couple across the walkway, and Trixie tries to tell her to stop, but they end up giggling like children until Bob’s foot is firmly imprinted on Trixie’s shin. Her friend looks at them like they’re insane. Maybe they are.

The waiter comes out with a cheese platter. “Hey, um, Brain,” says Katya, squinting at his ‘HI, I’M BRIAN’ name tag. Trixie’s proud of her trying, she supposes. “D’you think we could have crackers instead? Or, like, cake? Something without goat’s cheese?”

“How did you know?’ she asks her after the waiter has finished his spiel on why cake isn’t an appropriate appetizer and left (with a huffy “and it’s Brian!”) to take the orders of the couple to their right. Trixie wishes him luck, and he’s going to need it, because the couple have now progressed to full-on making out over the table, completely ignoring the waiter. Katya keeps looking over at them. There’s an odd expression on her face. In the dim light of the restaurant, she looks especially symmetrical. She can’t tear her eyes away from her, and as a result, nearly stabs herself in the nose with her fork, and – why exactly is Bob interested in her again?

(She doesn’t want to know.)

(She sort of wants to know why Katya isn’t.)

“Know what?” Katya’s voice sounds strained.

“That I can’t eat goat cheese.”

She turns away from the couple and looks at her dead-on, face crumpling into a bewildered grimace, and she feels like the air has been sucked out of his lungs. “What are you talking about, weirdo? You told me.”

She didn’t. She knows she didn’t, because most of the time he’s spent with her has been with Bob, too, and she’s been careful not to tell Bob about the goat cheese because nearly a year later it’s actually a good memory. The awkward parts have faded away. She doesn’t want to ruin it. Everything is good.

She tells her as much.

“No – dude – you were… wait… no, you’re right. Huh. Who was I thinking of?”

(Somebody else.)

(Which is really, truly fine.)

(Really.)

Unfortunately, the man on their right chooses that exact moment to say to his girlfriend “…The spaces between you and me resonate in my heart.” Katya spits out a mouthful of wine, and they’re kicked out of the restaurant by Brain – er, Brian – who must really be having a terrible night.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

They’re on the couch again. The one that looks too uncomfortable to be comfortable, but she’s never seen herself look so comfortable.

“Believe it, baby,” Katya smiles, “I’m all yours. Well, at least until something better comes along - for me. You’ve pretty much topped out.” The twinkle in Katya’s eye reminds Trixie she is lying. That Katya is hers. She shakes their intertwined fingers and relishes in the fact they do not fall apart.

*

Bob offers to drive her home, but she’s also taking her friend and Trixie’s had just about all the self-help book quotes she can take. She didn’t think she needed help to be fair. And she’s been on edge ever since he offered her dieting tips she really didn’t want.

They drive off and Katya walks over to her. Trixie doesn’t see her, but there’s that feeling; key in a lock, last answer to the Sunday crossword, book on a rainy morning - a sense of rightness.

(She clings to it more than she can admit.)

She turns to look at her.

“Well, I didn’t kill him, so I think I’d call it a win,” she quips, adjusting the way her white shirt shows the edge of her red lace bra. She’s a little drunk and it’s possible she’s being mean. But there was also the diet tip, so Trixie’s willing to compromise.

She rifles around in her purse. “Hold that,” she says, and Trixie finds her hands full of gum wrappers, loose change, a single cracker and, somehow, another bottle of wine. “How—” she starts, but Katya cuts her off.

“You really don’t want to know.”

She should chastise her. Make her give it back along with any semblance of dignity she stole from the waiter, but Trixie’s not exactly sober either, and the wine is good. Brian wouldn’t let them back in, anyway.

“Fork,” Katya curses under her breath because she’s trying not to swear as part of her good person promise to herself and - by extension - Trixie.

“What?” Trixie asks, still holding all of Katya’s rubbish.

“Taxi money.”

“What about it?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Oh.”

Trixie looks around at the orange glow of the streetlamps and the still-warm sun setting in the distance.

“Aren’t we, like, two blocks from your motel?” She asks, because she knows they are, and Katya scrunches her face up because she doesn’t.

“I took a taxi here,” she admits. “And I’m not really sure how to get home.”

She’s not sure if it’s the wine or Katya’s presence, or that she just got kicked out of an establishment for the first time in her life, or something else entirely, but there’s a laugh bubbling up inside her chest and then she’s laughing too, and soon they’re both doubled over in hysterics on the footpath.

It doesn’t bypass Trixie that that’s the first time Katya has called Australia home.

( “I’m going to miss this stupid clown house.”)

(“It’s where we fell in love.”)

*

They stumble along the warm concrete of the pavement, nearly falling over thanks to the wine and the fact they fall back into laughter every couple of steps. “I feel the absence of you reverberate in my heart,” says Katya. Trixie laughs so hard she nearly falls into the path of an oncoming car.

She just has to stop Katya from doing the kind of thing she usually does when she’s drunk: sleeping with strangers and shoplifting. Occasionally throwing things. Once she cried into her shirt for an hour because she had a photo of her grandpa on her wall.

The motel has just come into view when it starts to rain. Katya grabs her hand and pulls her towards the flickering neon VACANCIES sign. She steps in a puddle, and then they’re off again, staggering along the side of the road howling with laughter. They reach the door out of breath and soaking wet.

The receptionist gives them a strange look as they walk past.

She asks her if she wants to stay.

Of course, I’ll stay , she wants to tell her. I’d stay forever, if you wanted.

But she doesn’t, and Trixie doesn’t, and she can’t. So they watch a movie, and she leans her head on Trixie’s shoulder, and she falls asleep to the sound of rain lashing the windows and the smell of Katya’s shampoo.

*

She’s fallen.

Not the good kind. The safe kind. She knows it as soon as she wakes up fully clothed, watching the way the sun skips on the freckles along Katya’s nose. The ocean is warmer than she thought it would be, and she’s grateful that the tide seems kind. She has never looked more symmetrical.

(She does not feel kind.)

(She feels like a monster.)

*

It ends after the liquidation of the Brainy Bunch. After Max and Jan and the Peep Chilli disaster of ‘19.

It ends in the dean’s office where she gets her heart crushed and her career brought to a sudden, shuddering halt.

She looks at Katya and all she sees are dreams that are being slowly rebuilt into paper boats that hold the weight of worlds. She wishes she could be more like her.

(Wishes don’t come true.)

“I need to end things with Bob.”

Maybe wishes don’t come true. She’ll never get to have Katya for herself, she knows that, she’s made peace with it. Well, no, she hasn’t, but she’s accepted it. She can never, ever tell Katya how she feels, or kiss her, or hold her in her arms at night, but she can stay by her side, make sure she’s happy and safe for always, and that just might be enough.

It’s the easiest choice she’s ever made.

“Okay -

“…but too bad, because I need to say it, because you deserve it. Because… because…” because I love you. Because I can’t lose you. Because it’s you, and you told me you loved me and I was scared you were going to take it all back, but that doesn’t matter, you matter -

*

They kiss.

And it ends.

And it begins.

And everything is fine.

And everything is great.

[gaspbrat]

Senior Hues

part twoes.

ch. 1 pt. 2

Reddie!

Promposal!

Sonia meets Bev!

Sh*t hits the fan!

Stan!

Absolute Fluff with a chef’s kiss of jealous angst.

the shortest of this series, maybe, wc: 2600+

♡

Stanley was amazing at most things:

Observing, Listening, Responding with a gentle harshness.

He was not the best at some other things:

Not telling Eddie to shut the fuck up right now.

“Eddie, listen to me,” he grasped his friend’s shoulders tightly, speaking through gritted teeth, “Richie is an asshat and I can’t understand why the fuck he is so damn important to you. He just dicks around all the time. Dicks with you all the time.”

Eddie begins to retreat from his soap box of anxious paranoia. Stan loosens his grip and his eyes soften.

“But he’s not dicking with you, this time,”

Beautiful strawberry blonde curls danced in the winter evening wind, caressed by the setting sun. Stan would consider this poetic if it didn’t involve the trashmouth, mozying over to the awaiting Melissa. She was tossing her hair and smiling obscenely over her shoulder.

Stan was ever grateful he could always find the best vantage point to watch the birds go at it. He knew meters away Eddie was already attempting to piece together what was unfolding right before his privileged eyes.

“Melissa,” Richie called with a rigid awkwardness, “Your glasses. You left them.”

“Oh! Silly me!” she hesitated over his hand taking her glasses back.

He did not savor the touch.

“Hey, um,” she begins twisting her lip between her teeth as he made a move to escape.

Richie wants to roll his eyes but really doesn’t want to piss her off in uniform on the main street.

“Prom’s coming up and I can’t go unless I go with a senior. Some stupid fuckin’ bet I have with Avery,”

she nods her head over to one of the vultures watching this scene.

“You know what,” Richie feels particularly evil today. He honestly belives half-truth she was giving him. She might actually have a brain in there.

“Yea, I’ll go with you.”

Melissa nearly cries out loud.

“Shit, um, okay! Yea, just,”

He brings up the sharpie in his right hand and asks for her palm. She hands it over. He scrawls some numbers between the three lines.

“Call me.” he turns with a wink back to the arcade, sauntering back to work.

Leaving Melissa to squeal with her posse moments later.

Stan scoffs before kicking his bike off and finding his friend.

“He is absolutely fucking with your whole heart right now, dude.”

Eddie’s jaw hangs open while his heart droops further.

“Stan, what the fuck, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” He croaked out, suddnely defensive of his other friend.

“I saw him write his number on her hand after you bolted in gay panic.”

He wasn’t sure whether to dignify Stan’s offhanded insult with a response or be discouraged by the thought of Richie going with someone else.

Stan watched a piece of Eddie’s heart fall to the floor and he wondered if he really made the right choice.

“Look,” he started backpedaling,“He could have just given her a fake number-”

“Why on the fucking earth would he go and do all that extra shit?”

“I don’t fucking know? You know him as good if not better than me!”

“Clearly I don’t.” Eddie’s tone hushed. He turned away from Stan, plunging himself into thought.

“Hey, Eddie, come on. Don’t go there.”

“Where else can I go, you DROVE me here?”

“We biked.”

“Not the point! Really?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Silence settled over Stan’s room as they hoth contemplated the true facts.

Stan’s eyes don’t lie. Eddie knows to trust him more than he trusts the others. He isn’t super sure about all this, though.

He assumes only time will really tell.

The next few months were spent in an unfortunate game of tug-o-war between Eds and Rich. They would only be around the losers if for sure the other would not be present. In the absolute worst case scenario they both end up sitting at the same table for a brief second before realizing they were at odds.

Richie was afraid to say anything to Eddie and Eddie was frustrated by his presence. They both feared the uncertainty the other brought with them.

Valentine’s day came and went.

Both Richie and Eddie called in sick that day. If their friends had no idea of the circumstances they would call them lovesick. One of them was working and the other was distracting himself. They both shared in longing, that much was obvious.

Saint Patrick’s Day yielded Eddie in no green claiming he forgot the holiday. Everyone had a field day. Richie snuck a pinch in while they passed in the hallway. It would have worked if he had been a few inches shorter.

Eddie spotted him instantly and bolted after him only to lose him at the main hallway.

After what felt like an eternity to everyone involved, April came. It brought the feeling of spring and budding young misguided romance.

Also, promposals.

Ben asked Beverly right before April fool’s just to make sure she couldn’t prank him instead.

Stan and Mike just started declining every offer, fake or otherwise, making sure to give each other a glance after each attempt.

Bill fixed his sights on one of Melissa’s friends, Avery Ann, whom enjoyed all of the short stories he told in his advanced literature class.

Richie gagging upon hearing Bill recant the tale of his proposal and nearly fainted at the thought of double dating with BILL AND all that noise.

Eddie had been avoiding their lunch table for a few weeks straight at this point and his sudden presence that Wednesday afternoon caught everyone (Richie) off guard.

“Woah! Hey short stack! Where’d you come from?”

“Bio, what’s it to you?” he set his bag down and squeezed in opposite his current rival.

“Nothing, I was just wondering.” Richie returned to his passive silence as per late usual.

Eddie saved the expression he was given for future reference.

“What’s new, Eddie? I feel like I haven’t see you in a week now!” Mike questioned with his warm and welcome tone to break a part of the tension.

“Nothing too crazy. Just some weird shit.”

They all stopped grazing to stare at him with expectance.

“What weird shit?” Beverly asked.

“Fuckin’ Melissa called my house twice.”

Richie froze. Everyone else held their breath.

Stan leaned back in his seat knowing all too well the screaming match to follow. He glanced at Rich to assess his mood and noticed the color had vanished from his cheeks.

“Asking for YOU both times!” he was standing, accusing the pile of messy black hair across from him, pupils darting away from eye contact.

“My mom nearly crucified me, asshole! What the fuck?!”

Richie kept his gaze on the juice box at the center of the table. He wondered whose it was. Maybe he could have a sip.

“HELLO?! Earth to shithead!” Eddie was getting loud. He knew it. He recognized his level of rage but at this moment nothing mattered but making a fool of him in front of the others. Proof he wasn’t jumping to conclusions.

He was, though, he learned from Stan.

“Why the fuck did you have your girlfriend call my home phone? Twice?!” he was shrill now.

Richie could not believe his ears.

“Wait what?”

“Did you guys fuckin’ prank call me after you got done making out or what!?”

Richie could feel this only getting worse so he got up from the bench.

“Hey, what wher-”

Eddie was cut off by a rough ‘let’s go’, led out of the cafeteria by Richie’s grasp.

This needed to be settled somewhere immediately.

Eddie expected to be escorted to Gretchen but his heart ached when Richie’s didn’t slow at the parking lot.

They kept walking in uncomfortable silence for a good three blocks before Eddie stopped, flabbergasted.

“Wait, what the fuck, where in the shit are we going?”

“Just follow me.”

He begrudgingly pursued with a groan.

They ended their journey at the local mechanic.

“You need a tune up, Eds?”

The smaller boy responded with a fury in his gaze, “No.”

“Gretchen did,. . does.”

He released the breath he held captive in his chest.

Eddie was silent behind him for a moment before squeaking out, “I thought you were getting rid of her.” he had not called her anything besides 'it’ until now.

“I was yea,” he rubbed his forehead with the back of his arm, “I wanted to surprise you for pr-” he cut himself off.

“Prom?”

Richie hissed. It was all in the open now, sort of.

“Yea, Eddie, I didn’t want to take you without her.” Richie slapped his forehead with the realization he could not lie to his closest friend.

“What do you mean? I thought you asked Melissa.” he sheepishly trailed off and toed the crack in the sidewalk. After finally looking back up to meet his taller friend’s gaze he noticed Richie had disappeared.

“In here, Eds.” he heard a voice call him from around a corner, leading into the shop.

Eddie followed the voice to find Richie, kneeling, holding a small bouquet of tickets taped to look like daisies.

“Would you,”

Eddie’s blood was fickle sometimes. Running to all these body parts for no reason. This was one of those times. His face burned with the amount of red he was probably sporting.

“Edward Gaspbrat,” Rich croaked out from his awkward seat on Gretchie’s hood, a smirk peeking through his words.

Eddie’s eyes saw his brain for a good three seconds giving his boy friend the eye roll of the century. It gave him enough reprieve to recirculate his blood flow from his cheeks back to where it belonged.

“..Bemydatetoprom?” Richie sputtered out in almost a whisper.

They both paused, watching each other for a minute. Crickets chimed in almost on cue.

Eddie did the sizing up.

“Are- Are you asking me to prom? Rich, don’t fuck with me,” the younger boy stuck his finger out at the other, instinctively scolding him even now. In this moment.

Richie could not believe his eyes.

“Maybe… yes. I am.”

He shrugged but his choice was concrete. The flustered little man before him made sure. “so, please?”

Eddie took a good four seconds to respond. Richie took this time to assess how good they would look in matching suits and ties in front if all those fucking twats. Melissa included. Melissa especially.

“Of course?“

The effect of gravity seemed to have left Eddie and he started to freak before he realized it was Richie picking him up into a gangly bear hug.

“OkayOkay! Put me down!” he started to squirm, “You’ll crush my snickers!”

Richie finally listened when he heard the word snickers.

“You have snickers? Hidden in those tiny things?”

He pointed to Eddie’s pair of very short jogging shorts he would always wear but never jog in. After four years you’d think someone would change style but no.

Richie then took a second to remind himself he was currently wearing an open tommy bahama shirt before criticizing Eddie further.

“I don’t dummy.”  he quickly readjusted his fanny pack to his right hip. “I keep them in here.”

He pulled two snickers bars from it.

“Was this,” Richie takes a snicker and turns it over just to be extra sure that : yep it’s a snickers, “a reward or some bullshit? Did you know I was gonna ask you?”

Eddie started to look upset and opened his mouth for a reply.

“No I-”

“You little shit, you wanted me to look like an asshole in front of the losers and ask you and this was, what? Your gift in return? What the fuck?”

“Dickie! Shut. The Fuck. Up!” he screeched. “They were for you. For us? Like a bribe or some shit when I-” Eddie realized his train of thought was derailing so he cut himself off. His gut turned, however, when he saw the twinkle in those deep brown, enlarged eyes.

“When you what?”

Shit.

“Uh.. Nothing. Just, saw you. And I did, so… Just eat it.”

“No, no, I want to know what you saved these for. These are the special ones your mom hides in her table next to that dil-”

“Beep, fucking, BE E P!” Richie fell shut his mouth tight.

“I-I wanted to go to that hill we went to in eighth grade after I was gone for two weeks, right before spring break.”

“Oh shit, I remember! I kissed your cheek and you slapped the fuck out of me.”

“Bill was right there you fuckin-” he closed his eyes and sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That was the last time I felt happy, for a long time. My mom went apeshit the next morning about me being out so late right after being in the hospital.”

“I was going to ask you to prom and these were a bribe since I thought you were into Melissa.” he hissed through the ‘ss’.

“You thought I’d need a snickers to pick you over that?”

“I didn’t know what the fuck you were gonna do! I did what I could to prepar-” he was cut off by Richie’s mouth. He instinctively jumped but then succeeded into his touch.

Richie pulled away right as Eddie’s kissed him back.

“Eds, sometimes you just need to sit back and relax, daddy’s got you.” he patted the other boys back a little too heavy handed before leaning in to kiss him again.

When he regained his balance Eddie put his pointer finger to the other’s lips, preparing to scold him.

“First of all: Eddie, second: don’t eVER call yourself that or we aren’t going.” he waved his finger at him while withdrew it from his mouth.

“Fine, but after prom I can say what I want?”

“We’ll see how prom goes first, bubba.” Eddie noticed Richie start to open his mouth and figured there was really only one way for them to shut each other up.

Richie would be lying if he said he hadn’t figured that out seconds before Eddie.

I’ll never be quiet again.

He thought as Eddie kissed him senseless.

Saturday came quicker than he had expected.

Eddie hit the button on his alarm clock and stopwatch before groaning and throwing the covers over his head.

Prom is in 12 hours… Get fuckin’ ready.

He went through his daily morning routine swiftly but reluctantly. Beverly would be at his door in less than an hour and he hadn’t even had breakfast yet.

“Eddie-bear! Breakfast!”

He fist pumped for the amazing timing; ignoring the childish nickname it accompanied.

“Coming!”

Maroon Stacked Doc Martens skipped up the steps towards Eddie’s house, stopping on the austere “welcome” mat.

Not super welcoming.

She rapped on the door.

Mrs. Kaspbrak sighed at the interruption and made her way towards the culprit.

She looked through the peephole which just showed her empty porch. She assumed it was some dumb ding dong ditcher and returned to the living room before hearing another knock on the mahogany.

Fed up, she unlocked the door to figure out who was behind this disturbance.

She came face to face with none other than the she devil herself, Beverly Marsh. That dirty-

“Hi Mrs. Kaspbrak,” she said cheerily.

“What do you want with my son?” her eyes seared through Beverly’s.

“He wanted me to help him go prom shopping this afternoon I’m here to take hi-”

“Hi Beverly, sorry to keep you waiting,” the man in question popped out from behind the doorway to their kitchen.

“Hey Eddie.” Beverly smiled with pain in her eyes.

“Well bye mom, gotta go seeyoulaterloveyoubye!” Eddie shoved past his mom and followed Beverly down the steps to her car.

“Did my mom say anything too awful?” he asked after they were in the car.

“Nah, she didn’t have time.” she laughed into the back of her hand, other resting on the wheel.

"Okay.” Eddie sighed, shaking like a branch in the spring wind, “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

*Cue prom shopping montage*

Thaks for reading!! 💖

[dib-shit]

“What if they were all Friends!” Invader Zim AU

This is a headcannon/fic idea that’s been in my head for a very very long time and I want to at least put out something for, even if just a long drabble.

I really really like the idea of Zim and Dib developing a sort of squad with the others. Like when they hit high school, things start changing for the better overall. This is what I was thinking of when I made the Eric Andre “what if they were all friends” post (hence the title, which I want to change at some point).

tl;dr throughout high school, Dib, Zim, Gaz, Gretchen, Tak, Skoodge, Tenn, and Keef all become sorta friends and do dumb shit together. Tak and Tenn have been in a relationship, Dib and Gretchen eventually start a relationship too, and it’s complicated between Skoodge and Zim for a while. Zim finds out the truth about his mission (of course), Dib finds out he is a clone, Tak gets rejected from the empire, and they all bond through that. 

I’m totally open to talking about this and answering any asks that are sent btw lol

Freshman year: things are mostly the same between Zim and Dib, but Gretchen starts making an effort to talk to Dib every now and then. She wants him to feel like he’s not alone, even if she’s not sure if she believes him about anything. Skoodge occasionally is out and about with Zim, but doesn’t go to Skool. Keef and Gretchen have been good friends for a couple of years at this point. Keef for sure still has a crush on Zim but knows it’s not mutual and has learned to be more respectful of personal space (he also doesn’t know Zim is an alien so of course thinks Zim is the same age as the other students).

Sophomore year: Dib and Gretchen almost have a sort of friendship going on. Zim and Dib still constantly piss each other off but it’s become more of a game for the both of them. At this point Dib has given up trying to expose Zim just tries to keep him from destroying everything. Gaz is in Highschool now too and mostly tries to ignore the others but will occasionally step in if things go to far. Gretchen has a lot of internal conflict as she starts noticing little things that point to Dib not being crazy after all. She keeps quiet in order to avoid the two of them getting bullied more (also why they aren’t super open about the friendship). A certain event results in Gretchen very clearly seeing Zim without his disguise and telling Dib she kinda figured Zim was an alien for a while now. She stops caring about the bullying risk and they finally develop a proper friendship.

Summer after Sophomore year: Dib and Gretchen hang out a lot, and Dib starts to get to know Keef better (now that he knows how to behave a bit better). Gaz gets to know Gretchen a little bit when she visits the Membrane’s house. Some time around here is when Zim gets the “your mission is a fraud™” message that happens in every fic. He stays in all the time as Skoodge runs the errands. He runs into Gretchen at one point when trying to get to the library, and they visit there every now and then. Dib at some point goes through his Dad’s old research and comes across the fact that he’s a clone, and so is Gaz. Gaz has known for a while, and tries to calm Down down when he gets upset. Both of them have very low thoughts of Professor Membrane now, and they start building a better sibling relationship upon realizing they basically only have each other. 

Dib goes to check on Zim, and starts to piece together what happened. Dib starts to assume Zim has given up and tries to leave him alone, knowing that getting brutal truth sucks ass. But then Zim just shows up with this massive machine that actually has the ability to destroy the planet (along with himself, Skoodge, and Gir). Skoodge can’t get to him, with Zim thinking Skoodge betrayed him with the whole mission fraud thing. Dib manages to get to the top where Zim is, and talk some sense into him. He tells Zim it doesn’t matter what the Tallests think, it matters what Zim thinks of himself. Some really corny sappy stuff about 

“hey man, I just finally realized my dad is shit and I’m a failed clone cuz I’m not what he wanted me to be. I know what it’s like. I don’t think you actually want to do this. You’re going to end up killing yourself and those you care about, even if you won’t admit it. Skoodge cares about you. Pretty sure Gir cares. And I also don’t want to see you die you price of shit. I’ve always thought you were a threat, you don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

Anyway, Zim comes down, and everyone is relieved. Since then, Zim and Dib don’t really fight anymore, and don’t really talk until Skool comes back.

Junior Year: Skoodge is now a student so that Zim has some emotional support (but he won’t admit that’s the reason) when at Skool. Things are quiet for a while until a really old plan Zim had to destroy the Skool (involving the boiler room) starts activating. Zim at first doesn’t care, after some convincing he joins Dib in an effort to stop it. Gretchen and Skoodge get the idea to start getting them to work together more, and they do just that. They form a “team” to deal with dumb shit that happens frequently (which was usually left to Dib to take care of). Zim and Dib fight a lot, but not like before, and they at least tolerate each other’s presence. Gaz sits with them at lunch but mostly keeps to herself.

Eventually, Tak crashes back on Earth, and using a new disguise she tries to navigate living in the city. She has very little supplies and Mimi is still damaged. All she has is herself and her pak, and her damaged safety pod from her former ship. (She likely spent time on foodcourtia to gain monies to fix her pod enough to get back to Earth). Gaz meets her at the mall, and figures pretty quickly it’s Tak. They bond over a mutual dislike of Dib and Zim, and eventually Tak explains that she isn’t here to take over again, she needs somewhere to stay away from the empire. Gaz helps her out, with everyone else thinking Tak is her new friend from another school or something. After getting her a place to stay and a job, Tak trusts Gaz enough to tell her about Tenn (a story for another post), and that she really misses her. Gaz sympathizes and tells her that she knows where her ship is, but she’ll have to reveal herself to the others.

When Tak is reintroduced to the “team” Dib and Zim are immediately ready for a fight, but Gaz manages to diffuse the situation, explaining that Tak is sorta in the same boat as Zim now: rejects of the empire. After some arguing, Dib eventually agrees to give Tak her ship back, and she tells him she can help him build his own in the future.

Whenever she’s not working, she’s in the ship, adjusting the long-distance communication in an attempt to reach Tenn. But it’s just static. Gaz is the only who knows that she’s trying to reach Tenn. But over time, Tak starts trying to get her mind off of it by getting involved with the team’s shenanigans.

At some point, Dib starts coming to terms with the fact that he might like Gretchen as more than a friend but is afraid to tell her thanks to his reputation. But some sorta… Event or something (idk) leads Gretchen to finally tell him that she likes him. After the initial shock (even though it should have been obvious), Dib tells her the feeling is mutual. And there we have the only straight pairing in this whole thing. Gretchen tries to make an effort to bond with Tak, giving her tips on human culture and little things she thinks she’ll like (mostly consisting of cats and the black/purple combo).

Summer before Senior year: Tak starts getting something from her communicator. It takes her a while to adjust enough to understand, but when she finally gets the sweet spot she starts crying. It’s Tenn’s voice. Tak quickly realizes it’s a recording on loop, voicing some sort of code. Dib and Gaz offer to help with the code, but Tak says only she and Tenn use it, so it’s only meant for her. The code translates to an SOS message, then gives her coordinates. The message then goes on to say that if Tak finds this, she loves her and that she’s sorry she failed. The date of the recording is a few years old by this point. Tak immediately starts packing up a bunch of supplies, and raids Gaz’s room for weapons and gear (with permission). Dib asks her what’s going on and Tak frantically only responds with “she might be alive. I’m going to get her.” While Tak is prepping her ship, Gaz explains to Dib about Tenn. Dib runs out to the ship and tells Tak that he’s coming with her to help. There’s some arguing, but he goes, and Gaz stays behind as ground control.

Long story short, Tak is a badass and they break into the prison on Meekrob and get Tenn. Tak runs towards her and they both start crying and hugging each other very tightly. Tenn says she thought Tak had died, and that she was so happy she finally got the transmission. Tak is also relieved that Tenn is alive and that they’re together again. Then they get the fuck out of there and head back to Earth, while Tak helps Tenn start putting together a human disguise.

Senior Year: Tak and Tenn aren’t bothering going to Skool, they get jobs and live in an apartment together. But they do frequent the library and try to learn about human culture. Zim is struggling with emotions now that he knows about Tak and Tenn. Skoodge on the other hand, is able to come to terms with it a little quicker since he’s known for a while now that he liked Zim. Keef has been involved with the group every now and then, but still knows nothing about like, half of them being Irken. Gretchen convinces everyone to let her tell him (mostly by saying he’ll probably finally get over his crush on Zim that way). It takes a bit of talking to get Keef to understand that Dib was right the whole time, and he is perfectly fine with it. But then Gretchen has to clarify to him that Zim is like, 150 something years old at least, and none of them know how Irken age/years translates to human age/years. Zim doesn’t even know his exact years anymore, he just neglected to keep track of time. So none of them know if the Irkens are around their age or what.*

Keef’s just like

Anyway now Keef is part of the squad. Yay.

*The confusion comes from a number of factors. Different planets have different lengths of years/days, Irkens and Humans likely have very different interpretations/handling of age, and Zim’s behavior does not help at all. The other Irkens sort of know their age, but still don’t know how it translates to human age.

I myself don’t really know how I think of their ages (i.e if they are adults or not), which is why I just avoid human/Irken romance just to be on the safe side. 

I know this was really long, but believe me when I say this is really just the surface. There’s a lot of stuff in between, like the Tallests’ having a secret relationship, stuff in the past for everyone, and possibly stuff after Senior year.

Totally open to talking about this too, like I’d be happy to answer asks if any are sent lol.

Thank you for reading!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[zhanael]

@The RWBY FNDM

Fuck off with that “manipulation” bullshit in regards to Ozpin, thanks.  Rant under the cut.

First off, in case you didn’t play Grimm Eclipse, Oz actually doesn’t want anything to do with Grimm at all.  Dr. Merlot was experimenting with Grimm, mutating them, and was responsible for Mountain Glenn’s destruction, all of which Ozpin found disgusting and heinous.  He never sounded more angry with anyone than he did in that game with Merlot.  Suggesting that Ozpin manipulated Salem into experimenting with Grimm in any way and that’s why he’s “cursed” is flimsy and reaching at best and outright ignorant at worst.

(Yes, this is actually a “theory” I read.  Ugh.)

Second of all, immortality just by itself is a curse.  You live on, watching friends and family live and die, and you’re very, very alone.  But you still get attached because it’s what makes this immortality bearable, at least for a time.  Oz has it a little worse because he does die, but ends up resurrecting in someone else, still remembering literally everything, and actually absorbing that person.  It’s not that the gods themselves cursed him, it’s that he sees it as a curse.  I’m 100% sure that he doesn’t want to do this anymore, but he literally cannot stop it until he stops Salem.

And that’s the kicker, there.  Y’all keep wanting to blame him for shit Salem does.  He wouldn’t have to train warriors or make Maidens to throw at her if she wasn’t trying to destroy humanity (and faunus-kind).  That bitch started the war, and he’s trying to find ways to end it for good.  That’s the thing about war, kiddos.  It’s never bloodless.  People fucking die, and no, it’s not great, but what do you want him to do?  Salem and her Grimm want to kill everyone.  How the fuck do you expect him to fight that?  Walk up to her and give her a hug and tell her everything’s okay, that she doesn’t have to be this way anymore?

You people who blame Ozpin for Pyrrha’s death, saying he manipulated her or whatever, sound exactly like Hazel.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say Hazel was made as a portrayal of your portion of the FNDM (which I do know better, thankfully).  Pyrrha made her fucking choice, just as Gretchen did.  Pyrrha was a warrior with a heart of gold, ready to sacrifice herself for the greater good, Maiden or not.  Even if Ozpin hadn’t explained to her what was going on, if she hadn’t lost her life on the tower, she would have lost her life to Salem and her minions or her Grimm at some other time.  That wouldn’t have been Ozpin’s fault, but she would have died anyway, because she would have fought Salem--or at least her Grimm--and thrown herself in harm’s way for anyone else.

But since she did actually die after making her choice, let’s go over these circumstances of said death here.  First up: the world of Remnant as a whole.  Semblances are a thing, Grimm are a thing, Dust is a thing.  The supernatural isn’t uncommon.  But magic, the ability to manipulate reality in more ways than just one and without the use of Dust, is entirely unheard of anymore.  It’s lost to legends and fairy tales, much as it is in our own world.

So take a high school jock that’s still pretty nice and actually pretty smart.  Not nerdy by any means, but aware of pop culture, at least.  Then tell that jock that magic is real.  They’re not going to believe you at first, laugh you off.  But then other people they trust go “well...............yeah” and they’re going to start worrying.  “What do you mean?” they’ll ask. “Like, fireballs and shit?”

“Yes,” says the authorities they’ve grown to trust. “No special tools like lighters or flamethrowers.  From their hands, from nothing but the energy inside themselves.”

They’re probably going to start freaking out.  Like, a lot.  Their reality has been shattered.  Everything they thought was true could be a lie. 

There’s a show on Netflix called Magic for Humans.  Episode 5 featured a gimmick where the magician convinces a bunch of people to pretend the subject of his trick was completely invisible.  The show only featured two separate subjects.  Neither thought it was real at first, but when they came to realize that no one seemed to see them, their reactions changed.  The first bought into it pretty handily, even tried to steal some wine thinking he actually was invisible (lmfao at the Ring of Gyges actually proving right).  But the second was absolutely panicking and breaking down into tears, enough to make me wholly uncomfortable with the entire thing.  He believed he actually was invisible, and he hated it.  That’s how your average joe would react to magic.

And that’s how your average Remnant joe would react to magic.

It was revealed in Volume 5 that the Spring Maiden (before Raven) had panicked and fled.  The burden had become too much, Leo said.  She was scared, Raven said.  She was the dude who was turned invisible and she fucking hated it.

Given all that, why on earth would you people think putting all this shit up front would be at all helpful?  Why do you think Ozpin wants to scare off anyone who could take on this power when he’s already had it happen once?

Now, no.  Pyrrha was not your average Remnant joe.  She was strong, resourceful, and willing and able to learn.  I don’t think she would have freaked out, at least not that much, but you could hear how shaky her voice was when Glynda, Ironwood and Qrow confirmed that Ozpin wasn’t joking.  Even before she was given the actual choice, she was questioning everything she knew, and I’m sure Oz could see that.  I’m sure Oz could see another Spring coming on.

So he was going to take the slower approach with her, even despite the circumstances around Amber.  Surely he thought he had more time.  Even the choice he gave her was intended to be answered at the end of the Vytal Festival.  How long would that have been?  The Olympics, which is the closest real world comparison to the Vytal Festival, lasts 16 days, so just over two weeks.  We were probably close to halfway through the Festival when Oz called Pyrrha into his office, so that decision would have been given maybe a week, week and a half.  Not that long when it comes to a big decision like this, but certainly a lot longer than what she actually had.

Because the next day, Beacon fell.  And that wasn’t Ozpin’s fault.  That was Salem’s fault, and Cinder’s fault, and Emerald and Mercury’s fault.  That was Roman and Neo’s fault.  That was Adam and the Vale chapter of the White Fang’s fault.  Pyrrha saw what was happening, knew she had an opportunity to do good, to try to keep more people from being hurt, and she fucking took it.

If Cinder hadn’t ambushed Amber, she wouldn’t be in a coma.  If Amber hadn’t been in a coma, Ozpin would not have needed to seek out someone to take her on in an effort to keep the power out of Salem’s hands.  If Oz didn’t need to find a replacement Fall Maiden, he wouldn’t have called Pyrrha into his office.  If he hadn’t called Pyrrha into his office, she wouldn’t have known about magic or anything else.

But even if she hadn’t known about magic or anything else, if she had an opportunity to stop Cinder, she damn well would have taken it and died anyway.  Because that’s how Pyrrha do.

Yes, Ozpin appealed to her sense of justice and protectiveness.  But I don’t think that was unique to her, or to anyone.  I think that’s actually his own perspective.  He seeks out people who are willing to fight for humanity and protect it from the darkness, and tries to empower them to do so in any way he can.  But he hasn’t stopped being human (or faunus), despite being immortal.  He can still make mistakes.  Unfortunately, because this is war, those mistakes can be big ones, and cost lives.  Gretchen Reinart.  Summer Rose.  The second-most-recent Spring Maiden.

Pyrrha.

Their deaths burden him.  He’s exhausted, he doesn’t want to do this anymore.  The Wizard was him trying to escape it, or at least rest, just for a while.  But he can’t, quite literally, not while Salem is still around.  And now he’s stuck with a bunch of teenagers and one trusted friend, in the body of another teenager.  He no longer has the support he used to have--especially since Leo betrayed him.

Salem is winning.

And yet y’all want to think he’s the bad guy too, for doing what he can to stop her??

Right.  Okay.  What the fuck ever.

You people exhaust me.

[616marvel]

SOULMATE PROMPT for @blackberrywidow‘s writing challenge! Word count: 4.9k (im so sorry this got so fucking long) Pairing: Civilian!Bucky x Natasha (Black Widow) Summary: Bucky doesn’t believe in soulmates, so you could imagine his surprise to learn that his soulmate not only exists, but is also part of the Avengers. 

Soul mates was such an odd concept to grasp, not that it’s anything fairly new, but the idea of soul mates tend to limit ones options and if there’s one thing that can describe James Buchanan Barnes is that he, much like most Americans, like their options. This sounds pompous, but he’s great with socializing, even more so when a pretty gal is involved. It’s to no wonder that he thinks that this whole notion of ‘she’ll light up the room once you see her’ was a total buzz kill. He’d only been serious with one girl, her name was Gretchen and he swore that she was going to be the one. It turns out, unreciprocated feelings were not fun and soul mates has a bond that ‘simply cannot be broken, I’m sorry James.’ What a load of crap that was.

Truthfully it was youth’s predisposition of naivety that got him, he really shouldn’t have bought that ring at the age of 24. Call him jaded, but what was so good about soul mates anyway? At age 32, he has yet to find his so called soul mate. Of course not finding his soul mate meant he was free to explore, and explore he did. Naturally he’s single yet again, dating was a game for him that only lasted a good month or two. Anymore will have consequences, like actually caring for them. ‘That’s the point of dating, Buck,’ he can hear his best friend’s voice echoing at the back of his head like some voice of conscience. They’re the complete opposite of one another and yet through thick and thin, they’ve managed to stay as friends.

That punk’s probably out with his wife and yet he still manages to remember the guy’s lectures. A soft chuckle escapes James’ lips at the thought; bring forth his beer before taking a swig. If he’d been any younger, he would’ve hit the club for company, but he’s 32 and it’s a Wednesday night. The last thing he needs is any excitement when he has an early shift tomorrow morning. Dive bars were god sent for a quick drink and swanky music and this place was close to his apartment, what more could he ask for?

Breaking news: Another alien attack in New York! The Avengers are seen to be fighting –

Right, the Avengers. The mighty heroes that has saved the world multiple times. James had always found their tenacity impressive, but he’s gotta wonder, who the hell pays for all of those damage? “Probably my tax money,” he mumbles absentmindedly as he shifts his attention from the TV to the jukebox. Really, he doesn’t mind giving his tax money to fix New York, but the constant threat was getting tiring. It’s like Earth was the only planet that’s worth to invade or something, couldn’t they invade Mars? If it wasn’t the president asking to build a wall, it’s aliens invading. ‘It’s always something,’ the thought lingers while he scans the 1980’s song selection on the jukebox.

On his fifth page, a chitauri bursts through the east wing of the bar, destroying half of the joint and startling all of the patrons. The chaos happened too fast, but the fear that crept on his chest was gradual, his initial instinct of assessing the situation and noting if anyone was hurt kicked in. Thankfully, no one was close to the wall when it happened and from the looks of it, everyone seemed okay. “Is everyone alright?” an authoritative voice coupled by the sparking wires reverberates from the direction where the chaos had entered. Muted blues were swift to glance at the direction, taking note of the infamous red hair and black cat suit. It’s one of the Avengers! It’s Black Widow!

James would’ve been excited at meeting one of the Avengers face to face if not for the fact that the moment he laid eyes on her, the whole room lit up.

It was at that moment that he knew he was screwed.

“Wait, so you’re telling me,” Sam’s face looked amused despite of the disbelief, “that you believe that your soul mate is Black Widow. As in, The Black Widow. The Avenger.”

James knew he shouldn’t have told Sam.

“Look, when we locked eyes – the room lit up and I could’ve swore she knew it too,” which was true, he saw the way black widow’s eyes widened at the realization.

“Nah man, I’m sure you were just awestruck! I’d be awestruck too if I were in your shoes,” ever quick to disregard Barnes’ statement, really, why were they friends?

For a man that was so against the notion of soul mates, he was never more sure that Black Widow of The Avengers was his soul mate. Which wasn’t exactly a bad thing because he’s pretty sure he’s had a crush on her since – well, the first time she came on the news. Look, he can acknowledge the fact that she’s way beyond his league, but the fact that she might actually be his soul mate made him feel all sorts of things. First, how the hell does that happen? Second, how in the world is he gonna ask her on a date, she’s a superhero for Pete’s sake and he’s – well, he’s a senior engineer for Stark Industries. It’s a nice gig, but he doesn’t see superheroes there, let alone Black Widow, aka the woman that’s apparently his soul mate. And third, wasn’t he against the idea of soul mates?

“Lets say that she is your soul mate,” Sam’s voice interrupts his train of thought, the man looking ever so relaxed as he takes a gulp of his beer, “how are you even going to contact her? She’s a super hero and you’re…well – a man who sleeps with 22 year olds.”

“It was one time and she said she was 29! How was I supposed to know that she meant senior in undergrad and not a graduate student-“ One of the things that Sam will never ever let go was that mistake. Also one of the reasons why he no longer goes to clubs (he hung that towel after that incident, though in retrospect, he should’ve hung that towel the moment he turned 31).

“Look Buck, all I’m saying is, she might be your soul mate but I think you’re hopeless in this situation. She what, came in the bar, checked if everyone was alright, then went back to kicking ass? What did you do during that whole transgression?”

As much as he’d love to argue with Sam, he knows that the guy was right. After seeing her at the bar, he couldn’t do much of anything and stopping her to say hi (because saying hi in the middle of a battle was definitely practical) was out of the question. It was his first and only time that he could’ve done something and he blew it. See? Soul mates be damned.

Except fate was a jester and he’s simply a pawn in the game. It doesn’t take a week and a half before he sees her again, fighting crime and being a hero while he watches from the sideline, yet again. He saw her take a swift glance at him before noticing the incoming punch from the goon. “Watch out - !”

Of course she wasn’t Black Widow for nothing, even if he hadn’t said anything, she was quick the side step before turning it into a roundhouse. What was he even doing there? Why was this even happening at a Target parking lot? Much like what Sam had said, he was hopeless and she was way beyond his league. Instead of getting in the way, he joins the other civilians and finds shelter while the heroes – his soul mate – handles the situation.

There was a saying that once you meet your soul mate, you tend to bump into them often; James didn’t believe it at first until he sees yet another commotion, this time in his gym. “Oh come on!” it was his favorite gym, it was close to his house and the people minded their own business. To see it in rubbles was such a shame and it was then that he realized, having a superhero as a soul mate was an occupational hazard. Once more, he’s left with nothing but a prompt glance followed by him running with the civilians.

It takes a month and four battle run-ins before it happens – before he sees her at work in casual clothes, hair still ablaze and green eyes sharp as a cat. She was asking the front desk for information but at the turn of her head, muted blues and scrutinizing emeralds meet, making him gulp at the spot.

“Geez louise-“

You ever seen a woman so pretty you actually say geez louise out loud? Because he’s never done that before but then again Black Widow is no normal woman. She embodies grace, beauty, and death; which is a weird thing to note considering she’s there, lighting up the room and walking up to him like he’s her new target. “James Barnes,” her voice catches his attention (as if her presence hasn’t already).

“Uh…ma’am,”

Ma’am? Are you serious –

“I think you and I need to have a little chat,” nonchalance threaded her tone; his only response was a nod as she walks through the hallway as if she knew the outline of the building. It wouldn’t be surprising if she did know the outline, given her background, intelligence, and connection to Tony Stark. It takes a few left and right turns before arriving to one of the meeting rooms; James doesn’t even have to ask what she’s doing prior to following her in and getting locked in the soundproof and fogged windowed room.

And then there were two.

“You know why I’m here, don’t you?” despite the lack of threat, he knows that she wasn’t up for games so he nods in affirmation, “good, since we both acknowledge that we’re each other’s soul mate, why don’t we get to the point, shall we?”

Wait, she acknowledges him as her soul mate?

Why was he proud of that? Jesus Christ-

“All the research point that we will keep bumping into each other unless we bond and I don’t know about you, but I’d like to keep the collateral damage under control,” meaning to say she doesn’t want him to die just because fate’s a massive dick. James’ isn’t sure whether he should be grateful that she thinks about his safety or offended that she thinks he can’t take care of himself. And what does the bond even really mean? He should’ve researched this but considering that he didn’t expect to see her at work or at all, he didn’t deem it necessary.

“Uhh…bond?” he sounds like a child asking that, like she was years before him. Though looking at the situation, she probably was, both in experience and knowledge.

“Bond. Intimacy. Look, I’m not one for this soul mate deal and I was taught to believe that I didn’t have one, but I can’t have another life on my hands just because fate decided that we’re destined to be together,” it was her guilt that had brought her here. The red in her ledger that made her sought him out.

Somehow he knew that she wouldn’t be the type to believe in this fairytale sales pitch; she’s as jaded as him but more so taking her background into account. Exactly what did she want to happen then? “Given our rare circumstance, it’s best if you allow SHIELD to monitor you-“

“Whoa, whoa, I’m going to be monitored? Absolutely not!” his mouth ran off before he could think about whom he was talking to. The idea of being monitored was out of the question.

“Well we can’t just leave you vulnerable – whether you like it or not, we’ll keep bumping into each other while I’m probably in mid-battle,” Black widow replied like this was a business deal, like he should just accept it as is.

“Well I ain’t going to accept being monitored by the government, if anything why can’t you just monitor me if you’re the one that's worried about my wellbeing.” 

what-

What did he just say?

Jesus Christ, Barnes, think before talking!

Cerulean hues lands on the rather silent operative, unable to read her face and wondering if this was how people felt under her scrutiny. Her reply came after a few seconds but it felt like years to the brunette. “Okay, that can be arranged.”

Wait –

“Your apartment has a lot of blind spots and isn’t as well equipped as mine, nor is it as well hidden, so I’ll have your belongings transferred to my apartment by the end of the week,” again with her business-like timbre, as if living with another human being was nothing but another mission.

James opened his mouth to retaliate, but finds himself unable to find any comeback. He’s the one who suggested this idea, but he didn’t think she’d actually agree to it! Before he could even really think of a reply, she gets a call and bolts out the door without a goodbye, leaving him there with a dumbfounded expression written all over his face.

What the fuck just happened?

A part of him didn’t want to believe it, really. He slept that week trying to forget the whole thing, but at the end of the week, a pair of familiar sharp eyes greeted him at his apartment. It’s at that moment that he realizes that this wasn’t a joke and the Black Widow really did take his suggestion into consideration. What was he supposed to say in this situation? That he was joking? That he didn’t think she’d take it seriously? Rather than arguing, he follows for now, albeit begrudgingly as they finally arrive to her well-secured apartment near the Avengers facility.

Feeling intimidated was an understatement given that his neighbors were the freaking avengers and he’s living with the Black Widow all of a sudden. “The guest bedroom’s been prepared for you, you’re also in FRIDAY’s system so you have clearance levels to some rooms. I’ve talked to Tony about relocating your work here instead, so you’ll be working with some of the agents.”

This was all too much for him – they changed his job? Not that he’s complaining because this means a promotion right? Wait, that wasn’t the case right now –

“Wait, you can’t just trap me in here like I’m some kind of a liability,” that was the big picture; they were treating him like he didn’t know any better. Like he didn’t experience the world before this whole soul mate thing happened.

“Whether you accept it or not, you are a liability if it means that I’ll keep bumping into you during missions. In my job, a lot of people tend to get hurt, or worse, die. Unless we’re certain that this occurrence ceases, this is the safest method we have.”

Right, the bond. That part was still confusing to him, how the hell was he supposed to bond with Black Widow when she talks to him like he’s a responsibility? Would sex change anything? Would that create the bond? All those articles that he’s read over the week did nothing but make him question this whole thing more.

“If you don’t have anymore questions, I’ll head to bed,” and that’s how he’s left at her living room with a million questions and one running through his head.

Fan-fuckin-tastic.

James just had to work on the bond thing before he could go back to his life, right? If that’s the case, all he had to do was be charming and see where it goes. That sounded simple enough in his head but after living there for two weeks, the most he’s got from her was a good morning and goodnight. Half of the time she doesn’t give his compliments the time of day. The only thing that changed was the fact that he actually calls her name now rather than her alias.

“Look pal, she may seem hard to approach but trust me, she likes a pretty face and I’m almost certain that she’s at least attracted to you,” Clint, one of the few Avengers that he has gotten close with, consoles him as they have a couple of beers at the lounge. Out of the whole group, the archer tends to hang around the facilities’ kitchen a lot, making it easy for James to make small talk that eventually became full conversations that mostly entailed a certain redhead.

“That’s good to know, but every time I compliment her, she gives me this look like I’m a gremlin,” he rubs his face as he leans back on the couch, a sigh escaping his lips in exasperation.

“Try a different method, why not join her at the gym instead?” now that was an idea.

James would like to think that it was a doable feat. He practically lived at the gym before this whole ordeal happened and he knows how to punch – he’s sure that he can keep up with her. The brunette takes the archer’s advice, waking up at 5 in the morning just to meet her at the gym. She looks like she’s been there for a while, the sweat trickling down her skin as the obvious evidence of that as he makes himself known. The last thing he needs is her feeling threatened by him. “Fancy meeting you here, Natasha,” he offers a small greeting, she reciprocated with a nod.

Barnes spots a free punching bag and begins to work on it, endeavoring to find a perfect opportunity to ask if she’d want to spar. It takes a few minutes before he finally found the courage to ask, “Hey, did you want to spar?”

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind but beneath the scrutiny was – amusement? That was a first. She’d never looked like she was genuinely interested in what he had to say until now. There was a smirk on her lips and he could’ve sworn he saw his life end right then and there.

“Are you sure you’re game for that, Barnes?” in spite of the playfulness in her voice, he can note the almost feral and threatening tone beneath it. James gulps but powers through it.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Says the dumbass that sparred with Natasha Romanoff only to get his ass handed to him. He knew she was good and that he could never throw a punch at her even if he tried, but he thought that he could at least match a quarter of her stamina. It turns out it takes only 15 minutes before she has him face down and asking for a break because he’s pretty sure she dislocated his shoulder.

“Please tell me you weren’t going easy on me, I don’t think Sam would let me live if he finds out that I got a handicap when I sparred with Black Widow only to get my ass handed to me-“

And then she laughs, it’s really more like a chuckle, but he’ll take it!

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” and that tone was something he’d never gotten before. Wait, was she- was she flirting with him?

Before he could digest it all, she’s already packing her stuff while he nurses his shoulder. He doesn’t notice her jump out of the mat, nor does he notice her reach the door but she does acknowledge him, “Not bad Barnes, same time tomorrow?”

And that was enough for him to suddenly ignore all the aching bones in his body because no way in hell was he gonna let that opportunity slip by.

The next day at 5am on the dot, he finds himself at the gym ready to get his head stifled between her thighs all over again. There were bruises all over his back and rather than complaining, he wore it like a medal. How many people could say that they’ve fought the Black Widow and lived? Again he gets his ass handed to him. 15 minutes, like that's all his body could take. Maybe training with her could change his endurance. He used to think that he was pretty athletic but compared to her; no amount of six packs could match what she could do. Anyone else would’ve thought that this feat was suicide, but not her – Natasha almost seemed…entertained, proud even. Like the previous day, she smirks at him and gives him a remark that could either be taken as a flirtatious compliment or a threat. He doesn’t know which one turns him on more.

All James knows is that he suddenly doesn’t mind waking up at 5am in the morning and even if he’s sporting a new bruise everyday, it all felt worth it. Not only was he physically getting challenged but the way she reciprocated to his advances challenged him in a way that he’s never been played before.

It takes him another two weeks before he could pass the 15-minute mark, finally being able to keep on par with her for at least 20 minutes. It was small, but the road to that achievement was not an easy feat; Natasha acknowledged this and actually gave him pointers, something she hadn’t done before. “Try to block my hand this way if I’m coming to you this way,” she lunches forward and he follows her instruction, blocking her punch just fast enough to minimize the damage.

“Good, shift your feet faster so you don’t get hit. Try to move less but hit harder. The less movement you make, the more stamina you’ll save,” it made sense, her steps was always so light compared to his. His was full strength, using his whole body like a tank. He wasn’t like Captain America and he sure as hell wasn’t Hulk.

“Thanks, I’ll…see you tomorrow morning then?” because god knows how little they interact elsewhere. As much as he loves sparring with her in the wee hours of the morning, he’d like to at least be able to talk to her like a normal human being outside of the gym.

Except the strangest thing happened that day, James actually sees her at the kitchen after he finished showering and changing into comfy clothes (thank god for his day off, he really needed to tend to the new bruises). In fact, she’d actually greeted him upon entering the room like he actually existed. “Anymore creamer?” she looked at him with those sharp green eyes coupled by an amicableness that he had never seen before and all he could muster up was a nod.

“Thanks, see you later Barnes,” and she was gone right after she’d made her coffee, his eyes never leaving her trail even as she left the room.

“Did she just…greet me first?” he was at disbelief, but trust Clint to give him that pinch of reality.

“Yep. And you know, she didn’t even take the creamer,” James doesn’t need to look at the blonde to know that the archer was grinning, “guessing you impressed her at the gym, not bad, pal.”

That statement made his stomach do summersaults and he knew he was absolutely screwed.

“Geez Louise-“

After that incident, sparring with her almost felt like a date. It was so odd, flirting through fighting without the damn words. Instead of charming his way to her bed, she has somehow challenged him to flirt with her by trying to find a way to beat her. Which was honest to god, impossible. He never gives her the upper hand, never underestimates her skill, but the way she moves and fights was just on a different level and he could only hope to learn even a quarter of what she teaches him. Through absolute tenacity, he powers through every bruise, every cut on the lip, and every mixed signal that she gives him. Needless to say, he’s had a lot of cold showers since the incident.

He wonders if he asks her on a date now, would she object? Was that still out of the table despite feeling her press her breast against his back? He’s pretty sure that was intentional. She never does anything unless it’s intentional. Unless it has a purpose. She’s going to kill him through sheer blue balls alone.

James finds himself learning through mimicking her steps, keeping the movements light, but putting enough force for every punch and every block. Every session, she seems more impressed. It’s another two weeks before he finally manages to land a hit, it was on her shoulders but it was a hit nonetheless. For a quick second he was going to ask if she was okay, but the look on her face was priceless and challenging and it takes 20 seconds before his face meets the mat, his arm pinned on his back and her breast pressed on his scapula. This woman knows what she’s doing to him and he doesn’t even care, the cold showers always welcomed him with open arms anyway.

After a few seconds, he feels her move off of him, releasing him from her grasp while he prays that he doesn’t have a very obvious excitement between his legs. Joggers could only hide so much, alright?

Thankfully, a higher power was on his side and he manages to stand up without embarrassing whatever dignity he has left. James expected her to leave after beating him yet again, but surprisingly, she stays. She doesn’t make it obvious that she’s waiting for him, but her movements were relaxed, as if she was making it last. The brunette takes the opportunity and asks, “Why…why did you say yes when I asked to spar?”

It was clear that she wasn’t expecting that question considering the way she looked at him. Should he have just asked if she wanted to go on a date? Did he miss the opportunity?

Natasha hums in contemplation as she puts her water in her bag, “Because I wanted you to learn how to defend yourself.”

What?

He must’ve looked confused because Natasha continued on with her explanation, “When you said I was treating you like a liability, I agreed because other than going to the gym, you knew nothing about fighting. If you’d been faced by a Hydra agent because you were in the same location as me, I’d have no choice but to fight for you.”

It was suddenly starting to make sense. The redhead pauses, taking the towel and wiping down the sweat on her neck as she stood up straight to look at him, “I accepted to spar with you in the hopes that you’d learn how to fight and you’ve impressed me the first time we fought, so I kept teaching you.”

So that’s what it was.

She acknowledged him as an equal after he took initiative. In her eyes, he’s no longer a liability, but rather someone that can stand on their own. The fact that she could express that she was proud of him and saw him like an ally without outright saying it made his face burn and his stomach summersault. He’s so screwed.

“Go out with me,” it was a word vomit, but it was now or never, “on a date – it doesn’t have to be outside of the Avengers facility if you don’t want it to – just…just go on a date with me”

Dial it down, Barnes.

“…Please?”

Three seconds felt like a lifetime, but the smile she gave him was worth every heart palpitation that he might’ve had. It took her two steps before closing their distance and suddenly he’s very aware of the trace of gold at the rim of emerald hues. Her finger traces his lower lip and Jesus H. Christ, he could’ve swore he forgot how to breathe.

“Alright. Tonight at 7, don’t be late James.”

He likes the way his name wraps around her lips.

“Yes ma’am.”

She finally withdraws, the same smile still on her lips before turning to grab her duffle bag and heading the other way. He watched as she walked out, certain that there was a sway at her hips that was only for him to see. She’s going to be the death of him.

Thank god the cold showers were effective.

+ Bonus

“When I asked you out, I didn’t imagine our first date being interrupted by goons,” he takes a step back before pivoting to pull an uppercut, the knuckles of his fist meeting the guy’s chin.

“Really? Because this is exactly how I imagined our first date,” she was being cheeky, but there was truth underneath her witty response.

“I don't know how your dates usually go, but it usually doesn’t include AIM agents. More kissing, less punching,” for a guy trying to dodge a knife lunging towards him, he’s fairly calm – maybe because he learned how to fight from the best of the best? Probably.

“Well, now that just seems boring,” she responds and James swore he could picture her smirking, “and it’s not like I don’t have plans on kissing you at the end of the date, James –“ he hears a crack followed by a groan, “try not to get stabbed tonight and you might get more than just a kiss.”

James laughs, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

[demonqueenofplastics]

Regina George x female reader

Your pov

"Earth to (y/n) where are you with your head?" Damian suddenly asks making me pull my thoughts away from the prettiest girl at this school. "I... euhm....I was-" I said trying to get an idea before Janis cut me off. "Daydreaming about Regina again. Yes we noticed." She said making me blush and look down "yeah." I said quietly knowing it didn't make any sense at all. "You do realise that it is hard to get with her right? Especially since she doesn't care about anybody here at all except for herself." Janis said making me nod. "I know and telling her isn't even an option since she will just out me and probably make up a story on how I harassed her or something like it." I said sighing more about it

Janis just patted my back "She is a bitch so yes she will do that. But don't worry you have us to help you get over this. I'm sure you can find somebody that likes you as well and that will be better for you." She said making me nod a bit. 'I know Janis but I don't want anybody else I want her and that is the problem here.' I thought to myself just keeping myself from saying it out loud. "Just make sure miss 'I know all your secrets and bring them to my master' doesn't get to know this." Damian said making me laugh. "You know that is a longer name then just saying Gretchen." I said making Damian nod. "Yes okey that is true but I don't want to say her name in case she then suddenly knows we are talking about her and that she comes over to figure out what is going on." He said making Janis nod. "I mean after all she does know where the secrets are." She answered making me sigh "Okey yes she does indeed. So maybe you are right."

"Oh oops I'm sorry." One of the jerks said that threw some water over my clothes while I was talking making me look annoyed up "seriously what was that good for?" I asked angry making him just laugh. "I don't know maybe it just looks better on you." He said before walking away while Damian and Janis glared at him. "Okey I need to clean this up so I'm going to the bathroom I will see you two later again." I told them before going to the bathroom to clean myself up. "Stupid idiot." I just muttered to myself while cleaning before my luck ran out again and I heard the door open. When I looked up I saw Regina walking over making me sigh having a feeling this was going to be a long day.

"Oh so here the loser thinks she can hide." Regina said just smirking a bit before going over to the mirror and doing her make up which I didn't really find necessary. Instead of saying anything I just went back to cleaning up my clothes trying to save whatever was left of my pride. "You're ignoring me." Regina said sounding annoyed about it making me look up. "What did you expect me to say. Yes I think I can hide here. Because no I'm not hiding." I said stubbornly making her sigh about it. "Really if I wanted to be rude to you right now I would have done it already. You know I would have thrown more water over you for fun." She answered making me confused "Yes I know that and I'm confused on why you didn't do that yet." I said making her smirk 'Oh god that smirk is going to kill me at some time.' I think to myself especially when Regina takes a step towards me so I just take a step back. Every step she took forward I took one backwards until my back collided with the wall.

'I'm trapped what now.' I just thought to myself trying to find a way to escape before Regina was standing closely in front of me making escaping impossible. "Really you still don't know why I didn't do that. Well let me help you with that then." She said suddenly roughly kissing me making me blush and be shocked before finally kissing back. 'Her lips are so soft.' Is the only thought in my head especially when she just bites on my lower lip a bit making me gasp and giving her the space to slip her tongue in my mouth. After a few minutes of kissing she pulls away. "Tell anybody about this and I will make sure you will be dead to everybody." Regina said looking serious making me nod. "O-of course won't tell anybody." I answered making her smile. "Good come after school to my house you know where it is." She said fixing her make up and walking away leaving me there in shock to realise what just happened.

After some minutes I finally realised I should start moving again and when I looked in the mirror I just started to get Regina's lipstick of off my face so nobody would know before walking out of the bathroom to go back to the table not sure if my brain could comprehend it really happened or that I was just daydreaming again. Once I looked around the cafeteria and locked eyes with Regina for a second I realised it did happen so I just decided to keep my mouth shut and hope that school would be over soon.

As if school had listened to my prayers the day seemed to go over very quickly making me just run home to get different clothes on and make myself look at least a bit presentable before just starting to make my way over to Regina's house. 'But what if it is just one of those tricks to make my social status even lower?' I started to think of the possible things that could be going on while walking. 'But what if Regina actually likes me as well? But how can she, she is Regina George the apex predator. The queen bee of North Shore.' I started to get more and more nervous until I was standing in front of the door not sure if I should knock or just walk away and find an excuse why I didn't show up.

In the end I already knocked before my mind was made up and soon the door was opened by a woman I think her mom. "Hello I came here for Regina." I say smiling a bit and the woman gets out of my way. "Of course get in sweetie. Regina your friend is here." She yells making me look confused. "Send her upstairs." Regina yelled back making Mrs. George nod. "You heard her just walk up the stairs I'm sure you can find it." She said making me nod "thank you." I said before just walking to the stairs and making my way upstairs admiring how big her house is. "Over here." Regina said once I was upstairs so I just walked into her room. "Hey you wanted me to come over." I said quietly making her laugh " Yes indeed don't say it like it is weird." She said making me look at her shocked "but it is weird." I said making her sigh "Okey I get if but no as you can see the others aren't here so I'm not going to make fun of you I just need to talk to you so close the door." She said making me nod and actually immidiatly do as she told closing the door and walking over before sitting down since she also pointed me to sit down.

"So what do you want to talk about?" I asked having a feeling what she was talking about but just wanting to make sure I was right. "You know what I want to talk about. We are going to talk about what happened in the bathroom." She answered making me nod "Of course what do you want me to do forget it happened?" I asked just thinking she made a mistake and that it wouldn't happen again. "No you don't need to forget it." She said calmly looking at her nails. "Alright if that isn't the case then what is it?" I asked starting to get anxious and confused about it. "I want you to keep it quiet. I know you will but I need you to keep one other thing quiet." She answered making me nod. "Of course Regina whatever you want me to keep quiet." I said smiling a bit relieved I wasn't in trouble.

"Other then the fact that I kissed you I need you to keep quiet that we are together. And if you don't want to be together with me well I can of course always find a way to talk to the school." She said making me get big eyes. "Wait what... I'm missing something here." I said making her raise one of her eyebrows. "Don't get me wrong I would love to be together with you. I wanted that for a long time but why would you want to be together with me?" I asked really confused making her sigh. "Why do you think?" She asked me making me shrug being really confused. "Geez is your head empty. Because I like you and I just don't know what else to say. But I do know it has to be a secret for school. So If you want to be together with me you need to keep it quiet understand." She said making me nod even faster "Of course everything for you."

Regina smirked a bit once she heard my answer "good now give me your phone." She demanded making me give it to her and watching her type something before giving it back "there." She said and I just looked at the new contact in my phone 'my queen' making me smile about it a lot before she just pulled me over to her again and kissing me again. Unlike last time I just immidiatly melted into the kiss and slowly wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her closer against me. Once I did that she just slipped her tongue in my mouth again and kept kissing me more while pulling me closer as well. Once we broke away for air she smirked. "Well you are going to spend your days here a lot and I will see you everyday in the bathroom understood." She said making me nod excitedly "Of course. I love you." I said making her nod "of course you do. I love you too." She answered back saying the one thing I didn't expect her to say ever but being happy to hear it. "Now don't be so dense and kiss me again." She told me so I kissed her again soon after losing the control over the kiss again when she took it over again. So we ended up spending the whole night making out and me having a sleepover at her home making me even more excited about it all. 'This is going to be the most interesting part of my life as long as I'm with her.' I just thought to myself while laying close to her and slowly falling asleep.

I hope this is something you all enjoy and I will try to write more until then keep beautiful and stay yourself

[nhl-stories]

Don't Write An Elegy (part three) – Ryan Graves

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5k

…So I will wait for the next time you want me, Like a dog with a bird at your door…

I’ve never been the most gregarious guy on the team, but I felt myself retract more into myself as of late. I was worried I’d let something slip about my marital woes. Still, going on the road was a nice, if only for the reprieve from thinking about my crumbling relationship. At least a little less.

I normally take an aisle seat on the team plane so I can stretch out my legs, but I want to be secluded as I can on the plane while I read so I take the window seat. I’m just getting settled when Cale takes a seat next to me.

If you wanted to keep to yourself on the plane, Cale would be one of the best seat mates. But the look on his face makes it seem like he wants to talk. I want to ignore him, maybe take a nap as the most polite way to tune him out. But it’s Cale and if he wants to talk, he must think it’s important.

“Hey Cale.”

“Hey Gravy, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” I shrug hoping that’s all he wants to ask.

“Cool, just wanted to check. You’ve seemed a little down lately.”

I look around to see if anyone near us is paying attention, but people are still settling in their seats and minding their own business.

Still, I lower my voice, “we’re seeing a therapist and I’m not sure it’s helping.”

“Has Gretchen said it’s not working?”

My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“I just mean, has she said it’s not working?”

“She hates the therapist, but she hasn’t said anything about it not working. But it’s also kind of part of the deal that she takes it seriously so she might just be keeping her opinions to herself.”

Cale shrugs, “Or maybe she hasn’t said anything because it’s actually fixing things. Gretchen isn’t exactly one to keep her opinions to herself.”

I give a wry smile.

“Just trying to be positive,” Cale smiles and I can’t help but believe him for a second.

“Thanks man, I needed that.”

I pull out my book, so he knows I don’t really want to talk. It doesn’t help me get my mind off of Gretchen as I overanalyze the meaning of every sentence trying to decipher some deeper meaning for our relationship.

We won the next couple of games and luckily had a night off to take a breath and enjoy the win streak and a night on the town.

It’s a large group from the team that heads out and I eventually find myself at a table with Gabe, Nate, and Tyson. I’m grateful for the moment I’m not sitting at a table with Cale, because I don’t think either of us would be able to hide our shared secret under any pressure whatsoever. And I know for a fact Cale is a terrible liar who can’t make eye contact when he tries.

I’m staring at the menu but not really absorbing the content, I’ve read the words garden salad about 20 times now. I’m trying to stay out of my head, especially around the team, but clearly failing when Nate snaps his fingers in front of my face.

“Earth to Gravy, we said we’re ordering a bottle of wine, are you in?”

“Oh sorry, sure.”

Nate gives me a weird look like he wants to follow up but doesn’t.

“What are you doing for Gretchen tomorrow?” Landy asks, changing the subject but not to a better one.

I blink a few times, unsure how to answer.

“Holy shit, Gravy forgot it’s Valentine’s Day,” Josty laughs, grabbing the attention of our other teammates at nearby tables.

I can feel the color draining from my face, as if I could get any paler. Valentine’s Day has never been something we particularly cared about as a couple, but maybe in our turmoil I should do something, remind her I still care. Though knowing Gretchen, a display of red and pink might set her off like she’s a bull.

“You’re like the best husband I know, how did you forget?” Nate chimes in and it feels like a dagger.

“I mean Gretch isn’t super into Valentine’s Day, she probably won’t even notice,” I laugh trying to move the conversation away.

“Isn’t that what girls say so they can get mad when you don’t do it anyway?” Tyson chimes in.

Our bottle arrives and I already hope the guys want a second one because the wine will help me stop panicking during this conversation.

“That doesn’t sound like GG, but she is the type to get mad maybe you should send some flowers or chocolates, just cover your bases,” Gabe laughs.

“I think I’ll just risk her being mad at me.”

“Send her a dick pic tomorrow, keep the romance alive,” Josty says, not knowing the extra level of truth in the latter part of the statement.

“Yeah, she probably would prefer nothing,” I laugh before taking the chance to shift the focus, “Josty is that how you woo the ladies? Because you might want to pick up a new strategy, it’s clearly not working.”

I can take a deep breath as we switch to some playful chirping at Tyson’s expense.

Dinner ends and we’re walking back to the hotel, I can feel the wine pooling in my veins. I’m not drunk but I’ve had enough that I feel warm and sleepy. My half-hooded eyes a deterrent from more conversations.

Until Nate is by my side.

“I know you’re a little buzzed, but I do think you should order Mrs. Graves some flowers or something. I mean I’ve never been in a relationship as long as you, but it’s the little things that keep it going.”

My stomach takes a turn and I suddenly feel angry. I know she’s not going to get me anything, so why should I care? Why should I keep putting in the effort? The sour thoughts turn in my mind and loosen my tongue.

“Yeah, cause my last romantic gesture went over so well,” the words spill from my lips without a second thought, jarring Nathan with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

“Wait, what?”

I shake my head, snapping back into clarity and sanity, “The piano, she didn’t really like the surprise.”

I wave Nate off like it’s not a big deal.

“She didn’t like the piano? You looked for that thing forever,” I can feel his suspicion and concern, I feel ashamed.

“Yeah, uh- she was just mad she didn’t get to pick it out. Like she’s into all that researching about instruments and stuff.”

“Oh,” for the second time tonight I can tell he wants to say more but lets it slide.

I don’t do anything for Valentine’s Day.

Gretchen never reacts.

We lose the next game.

We win the last game and are finally headed home.

Despite sleeping on the plane, I still feel exhausted. It’s the part of the season where the grind of travel starts to wear on my body, and this year I have the addition of all this emotional baggage.

My body is heavy as I carry myself up the stairs, everything is weighing me down.

I dump my stuff on the floor of the bedroom, it’s messier than I remember leaving it. The bed is a rumpled mess even though I could swear I made it before I left, but maybe in the haze of my depression I hadn’t.

But the wedding picture is face down. I smirk to myself thinking how Gretchen must be sleeping in our bed again. It feels like a win.

I don’t have the brain power to dwell on this, just the need to wash off the road trip and collapse on the bed.

“Oh shit,” we both exclaim as we notice each other in the bathroom.

Gretchen is in the tub her hair hidden under a shower cap; her body hidden under bubbles. She has a full set up with music playing, candles lit, and a bottle of wine.

“Sorry, I thought you came home later this week,” she says but doesn’t make an effort to move.

“It’s your place too,” I look down at my feet, embarrassed about interrupting this intimate moment.

“You played well, even in the games you lost; you did good.”

I can’t hide my shock, “you watched?”

“It’s required I watch some hockey to keep my Canadian citizenship,” I roll my eyes in response.

“But no matter where we’re at with each other I’m still going to be proud of you and all you’re accomplishing,” I sit down at the edge of the tub, “Ry, I’m always going to love you, just in a different way now.”

My heart fractures a little more.

She notices the change in my face and I can tell it hurts her, she’s quick to change the subject.

“Do you want some wine?” She holds up the bottle, “I have like 15 minutes left for my hair dye to set before I’ll rinse and get out.”

I take a pull straight from the bottle, “what color is it this time?”

“I’m going back to my classic blue, thought I should stick with the Avs colors while I’m still your wife,” she winces at the words, but knowingly twists that knife.

“I finished Ghost World,” she’s a captive audience right now.

“Shhh, we’re not supposed to talk about therapy,” she grins, “it’s like fight club but with our feelings, so it feels counterintuitive.”

I chuckle, “did you finish your book?”

“Yeah, I did my homework Ryan,” she pretends to push a pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose.

I take another drink from the wine bottle, looking down from my vantage point to see the bubbles begin to vanish. Flashes of skin becoming clearer and I can feel my skin heat up a bit, it’s been so long.

“Mr. Graves you trying to get a peek?”

She kicks some water up towards me, but it only troubles the water, causing more bubbles to pop.

“I have naked photos of you on my phone,” I counter with a smirk, “but the live show is nice.”

Her mouth drops open and her face heats up. It’s not often I get the best of her with words, but she’s quick to recover.

“You dirty perv.”

“What? Like you don’t have a dick pic from me.”

“That was one time and it was because I was very drunk and forgot what it looked like, which is stupid because it’s like the rest of you: long and pale.”

“Thanks?”

“Shut up and get out.”

“Oh, now you’re thinking about it and need to take care of yourself,” I evilly grin as a stand up, taking the wine with me.

“Oh my god! I was gonna be nice and offer to change the sheets for you cause I’ve been sleeping in there but you’re on your own buddy.”

“That’s fine, just have fun with yourself. Give me a holler if you want some help,” I raise my brows suggestively.

She gives an indignant little scream before putting her head under the water.

…Well, maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away…

I’m standing outside the practice facility, waiting for Gretchen to pick me up for therapy. She’s late, of course, or maybe ditching me. Most of the guys have left, each one offering me a ride home, joking that my chronically late wife definitely forgot me.

Cale walks up next to me, “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

“Nah, we have therapy so she better be showing up.”

“Good luck, I have a good feeling about today,” something about his words makes me feel a little better, like somehow Cale is psychic and his words hold more weight.

Ten minutes later, I’m extra glad I lied about the appointment time. I knew she’d be dragging her feet more than usual.

Nate walks back from the parking lot, “You still waiting for Gretch?”

“Yeah, she should be here soon.”

“When she gets here do you think you guys could give my car a jump? It won’t start.”

“Uh yeah, do you have jumper cables? I’m not sure we do.”

“No, I don’t.”

As if on cue Gretchen comes tearing into the parking lot, screeching to a halt and rolling down the window, greeting Nate and not apologizing for being late. Typical.

“Hey GG, I need a jump.”

“Shit, we don’t have cables, we keep them in my trash car.”

“Can you guys drop me off at home?”

“Uh- we already have plans,” I stutter.

“C’mon, whatever it is can wait,” he whines.

“Just call a car, money bags,” Gretchen laughs.

“What plans could you have that are so time sensitive and also not closer to my house.”

“We’re reliving our early romance and going to have car sex in the mountains,” the lie rolls off her tongue so quickly that I think those were our plans for a millisecond.

Nate lets out a boisterous laugh, “Ok, just drive me home and have some illicit car sex in my driveway, it’s probably more realistic if you might get caught.”

“Oh my god, just shut up and get it in,” she says.

I give her a pointed look and she rolls her eyes, I guess it would be more of an ordeal if we fought him longer.

Nate takes shot gun and I crawl in the back, my palms sweating. No one has been alone with the two of besides our therapist in months.

“You guys plan car sex? Like you plan a date around boning in your car like high schoolers?”

“Why are you so interested? You wanna join us?” Gretchen jabs.

I snicker in the backseat as Nate sputters in shock.

Once he regains his composure, “You and Ryan aren’t really my type.”

He pauses to switch his tone, “But it’s refreshing to hear details about my favorite couple, Ryan would never be so brash about your personal life.”

Gretchen purses her lips, clearly feeling the need to have an outburst. I gently place my hand on her shoulder trying to silently communicate that she needs to reel it in, but it’s too late.

“What do you know?” She snaps at Nate and I fall back on my seat in defeat.

“What? Nothing? I–”

“Ryan what did you tell him?” her eyes cut through me in the rearview mirror.

“I clearly didn’t tell him anything G. Nate can act but not that well.”

I hear her say a quiet ‘fuck’ under her breath.

“Gravy has just seemed a little down lately, so I was happy to see you guys together. I didn’t think– Are you guys, okay?”

Gretchen had dug the grave so I was gonna let her take it away from here, I couldn’t bear to say it all out loud again.

“We’re seeing a marriage counselor, that’s where we’re headed now, not to go have car sex.”

She doesn’t say anything about filing for divorce, the omission makes me feel weirdly optimistic.

“Shit,” Nate rubs a hand across his face, “If you want to just shove me out of the car now you can.”

“I’d love that, but I don’t think it’s good for the team and Ryan needs keep his job to keep me in the life I’ve grown accustomed to,” I can hear the smirk in her voice.

We get to Nate’s place and are most definitely going to be late for our appointment.

“Don’t worry guys, I won’t say anything, but if either of you need to talk or whatever, I’m here for you guys,” he pauses for a moment, “And pick me up for practice tomorrow Gravy, and don’t forget the jumper cables.”

I hop into the front seat, I can only imagine how stupid I look, all limbs slipping through a small space. I get an idea when I look at Gretchen who’s holding back a laugh.

She puts the car in reverse, “So we’re going to be late even with the cushion you gave me with the fake appointment time.”

I can’t help but stare.

“I appreciate the lie; it keeps me honest and allows me to take my sweet time. But regardless we’re gonna be late, so do you want to play hooky?”

“Hooky? From therapy?”

“Yeah, and we can just hang out.”

My heart squeezes, it feels surreal.

“When was the last time we hung out, just the two of us?”

I know the answer, 10 and half months ago, but instead of seeming pathetic, I shrug, “a long time ago.”

“Exactly, so let’s play hooky!”

“Okay, so what are we going to do then?”

“I don’t know, what did we use to do?”

“Hmm, we used to drive to lighthouses and make out, go to parks and make out, go to parking lots and make out, go to the movies and usually make out.”

“So, making out is a must obviously…”

I raise my brows at her, expecting her to say she’s joking but hoping she’s being serious.

“You’re a good kisser, I’m not ashamed to admit that,” her smile is so big and so genuine it really feels like old times, back when she was my best friend.

All of a sudden she excitedly bangs the steering wheel, “Oh I know! Let’s find the weirdest museum in Denver, we used to always go to those weird museums in Yarmouth like the historical society.”

“And we got banned from the fishery museum, for making out in it.”

“Oh my god yes in the boat,” she laughs, “FYI it’s not a lifetime ban, I went this summer when I was home.”

It’s the first time she mentions our time a part and it doesn’t make me feel sick.

“Remember the trash museum in Hartford?” I chuckle.

“Or that weird museum about speaking English in Quebec?”

“We’re good at finding a bizarre museum,” it feels like the first time I’ve smiled in so long, the muscles feel foreign.

“Get to googling then,” she gives me a light slap in the chest, a spark zaps straight to my heart. I wonder if she felt it too.

We debate for a bit what the weirdest museum is in Denver before settling on the Museum of Miniatures, Dolls and Toys. We pull up to the most nondescript building, it’s only defining feature is the sign for the museum at the edge of the parking lot.

“I’m already obsessed,” she laughs.

The moment I’m out of the car she’s grabbing my hand and dragging me along.

I barely remember what was in the museum, teacups the size of a fingertip, some creepy Victorian dolls, but the feeling of her hand in mine is burned in my brain. The weight, the pressure, the familiarity, it clouds my mind in the best way.

We’re back in the car and I can feel the dazed, goofy grin on my face.

“Thanks, that was the first fun day I’ve had in a while,” she moves a piece of my hair behind my ear, I can feel myself being wooed.

She rubs a thumb across my cheek as she leans in closer, I swallow hard, “I forgot Victorian Dolls get you going.”

Her forehead hits mine as she lets out an airy giggle, but the atmosphere becomes thick when our eyes meet.

Our lips lock and it’s like I’ve been dehydrated for months and this is the first time I’ve been able to quench my thirst. I forgot how much I missed her lips, her tongue, her teeth, her hands in my hair.

I let out an involuntary, primal growl and pull her as close to me as I can with the console between us. She’s quick to maneuver over it and straddle me in the passenger seat.

All of a sudden, her body is free range and I have to find some restraint. But my hands want to wander the body that was once so completely mine. That I could mold like putty in my hands.

I settle for gripping her hips.

She lets out an airy moan and bites my lip. My head is spinning. I break our kiss to move to her neck. Her hands thread more surely in my hair as she throws her head back in ecstasy.

My hands have a mind of their own and move of their own volition. Slowly up under her shirt and to her waist and then all of a sudden nothing. In flash there’s no more contact and she’s in the driver’s seat again.

“Car sex wasn’t actually on the table,” she says somewhat out of breath and I’m glad that my heart rate isn’t the only one going a million miles a second.

We sit in the car heavy breathing until the windows are too fogged up to see through. Her eyes are closed and I can almost see her naming types of fish in her head. Her secret for cooling her engine.

She starts the car and rolls down the windows, the evidence of our tryst melting away in the cool air.

She gives me a quick peck like this was all normal, “Want to pick up Chinese food?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I would say anything to keep this day from ending.

[ghedahrianvampress]

Masquerade Ch 4

The sound of chatter filled the house, mixing with the eerie music that was being played in the background. Despite it being Mel's first party, she was actually enjoying herself, and from the looks of it, she was pretty sure that she could say the same about her friends. Each dressed in their own unique costume, they were busy mingling and dancing to their hearts content. Mel laughed as she saw Edward doing the chicken dance across the room. He was really getting into it.

You're probably wondering why the group was attending a party. Well, it just so happened that they encountered yet another roadblock. Through the passage that had been previously guarded by the stone lion, they found a four-inch thick door, made of solid steel. There was no way that they were going to get through it simply by banging their fists and blasting it with magic. They needed an acid strong enough to eat through it, and in order to get such an acid, they needed to return to Harakauna.

They had just finished up in Harakauna when they suddenly received a magical invitation to a Costume Party being thrown at Marcello and Gretchen's new house in Underfall. As much as Mel disliked the idea of going back to that creepy town, she couldn't deny that a party sounded like fun. Besides, it was hard to refuse such an invitation with Edward, June, and Yvette begging her like three adorable little puppies.

"Are you enjoying yourself so far, Mel?" Spook asked, coming up to her all of a sudden.

Mel nodded her head. "Yeah, I finally have an idea of what a party looks like in Ghed'ahre."

Spook gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Mel explained that her friend, Te'ijal, had always bragged about the fabulous parties they threw in the city of vampires. Marcello and Gretchen's party fit Te'ijal's description almost exactly. There were treat bowls filled with cut up finger bones and eyeballs, which honestly made her want to puke. There was a group of skeletons playing music. Carved Pumpkins were scattered all about, and there was even a gambling table in the corner, probably because Marcello loved to gamble. The only thing missing was the gigantic punch bowl filled with blood.

"I wasn't aware that you liked things that are dark and creepy," Spook stated.

Mel shrugged. "I know it's weird, but I've always found myself attracted to things that are dark and mysterious. Unfortunately, my fascination with such things has been known to get me into a lot of trouble."

"In what way?" Spook asked.

He seemed oddly intrigued by what she was saying. The reason she found it odd was because most people thought she was rather weird when they heard that. However, Spook didn't seem to think that way. Mel got the feeling that, unlike most others, he actually understood her. She felt like she could trust him enough to open up about one of her most shameful moments in life.

"A couple of years ago, back when I was still a thief, I was hired by a dark and mysterious client. A part of me was afraid of him, but a part of me was attracted to him. He asked me to complete a dangerous task for him," she began to explain. "You see, there was a haunted tower in my home town. It was so frightening that even I was terrified of it. He wanted me to retrieve a relic from inside it. I wanted to refuse him, but I couldn't."

"Why couldn't you?"

"To this day, I've never really understood. I always blamed myself, but I realize now that he could have compelled me or something with his powers," Mel continued. "Anyway, I ended up finding the relic that he wanted, which turned out to be much more powerful than I ever could have imagined. I discovered that he was actually a power-hungry vampire shortly after, and I've been on the run from him ever since."

Spook's eyes widened when he heard that. "Y-You were attracted to this Vampire? As in romantically?"

"I'm not entirely sure. It would be kinda twisted, considering he kidnapped me, and basically killed my best friend. I don't think I'd ever admit it, even if I was. I get the feeling he would just laugh at me. The only reason he wants me is because I'm the only one who can activate my ancestor's orbs."

He remained silent for a while. There was a slightly troubled look on his face, as he appeared to be taking in everything that she had said. She thought it strange that he was so affected by what she had said. Was he jealous? Perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut after all. Yet, at the same time, it had felt good to finally confide in someone about it.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

All of a sudden he looked up at her, looking as if he had just come out of a trance. "Yeah, I'm just surprised," he said. "Excuse me, but It's getting a bit hot in here. I think I need some air."

Mel felt like kicking herself. She should have known that he would run away, just like everyone else.

Gyendal rushed out of the house as fast as he could, the thoughts in his mind swirling out of control. His emotions were so scattered that he couldn't even figure out what exactly he was feeling. The only thing he knew was that he needed to go somewhere quiet so that he could sort everything out. No sooner was he out, then he started towards the town square.

As he had expected, the town square was completely deserted, without a Darkling to be found. Most Darklings were either sleeping or busy partying at Marcello and Gretchen's. He was just fine with this, seeing as he was clearly not in the mood to be troubled by the pranks of the mischievous little Darklings.

Taking a seat on one of the stone benches, and cradled his head in his hands, feeling as though the weight of the world was crushing his brain. He had never felt the way he did at that very moment. He was shocked, conflicted, and confused all at the same time, but his shock greatly outweighed the other two emotions.

A part of him had always wondered what went through Mel's mind on the night she stole the Orb of Darkness for him, but he hadn't been expecting the response he had gotten. Yes, he had expected her to be afraid of him. All humans were. However, he hadn't expected her to be attracted to him. Never in a million years would he have expected her to be drawn to him.

Although, now that he thought of it, it actually made sense. It seemed to be a trait that came with being a Darkthrop. He had read Mordred's journals, as well as his son's. They had both mentioned having a similar characteristic. The only difference was that Mordred had fully embraced it, and Tunsten had completely rejected it. Mel appeared to be rather conflicted. A part of her wanted to embrace it, but a part of her also wanted to reject it. At least that was what he assumed.

She also seemed to be convinced that Gyendal had compelled her to do his bidding. While it was true that Vampires did have the ability to compel humans, he knew for a fact that he hadn't used any compulsion on her. She had acted completely of her own free will. For some reason that did not make him feel any better.

Not only did Mel have feelings for him as Spook, but now he learned that she might also have feelings for his real self. She was right. He probably would have laughed at her, had he known that a few months ago. However, after everything that had happened, he found himself unable to laugh at the idea of her being attracted to him because he understood it. As much as it pained him to admit it, he couldn't deny that he had grown attracted to her as well. He was falling for her. How was it even possible? Why did it have to be now, and with the very woman whose life he had once tried to destroy?

"About time you realized it," he heard a strangely familiar voice all of a sudden.

He looked up and there stood the very same girl he had encountered in the forest. It was the girl who had advised him to change his strategy to begin with. She hadn't changed a bit. She still looked oddly familiar to him, and glowed as if she was a ghost, which she was clearly not, seeing as he couldn't see right through her.

"You!" Gyendal roared, getting to his feet. "You knew this would happen!"

Nox snickered. "Why do you think I told you to change your ways? I needed to push the two of you together somehow."

"Why?! Who are you?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out."

The strange girl gave Gyendal a wink before she disappeared into thin air again, leaving him even more confused than before. What on earth was he supposed to do now? Did he still want to go through with his plan of luring Mel into fulfilling her destiny? He honestly didn't even know the answer to that question anymore.

[easyfoodnetwork]

Everything That Makes Dive Bars Great Makes Them Vulnerable to COVID-19

Lisa Thompson performs during a drag show at Bob and Barbara’s Lounge | Ricky Carioti/The Washington Post via Getty Images

Drinkers love dark, rowdy, cheap, cash-only dives, but those bars struggle with safety measures like social distancing and takeout

“Bob & Barbara’s Lounge is a tradition in Philadelphia,” says owner Jack Prince. He has run the bar with his wife Gretchen for the last quarter-century, but it originally opened in 1969 and still bears the wood paneling, pendant lights over the bar, and distinctive acrylic windows to prove it. “When people come from out of town, it’s one of the places people take them to see. They’ll take them to Pat’s and Geno’s to see the cheesesteak wars. They’ll drive ‘em by the Liberty Bell. And they’ll take ‘em to Bob & Barbara’s for a special.”

The special, popularized around Philly as a “citywide special,” consists of a shot of Jim Beam bourbon and a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon for $4. It’s one of the things that makes Bob & Barbara’s so beloved, along with the “liquor drinkin’ music” that fills the bar on weekends and the famed weekly drag show.

As states and cities reopen bars following the COVID-19 pandemic, lively, low-cost venues like Bob & Barbara’s may struggle to meet strict social distancing requirements or serve patrons in other ways, like with takeout cocktails. “There are a lot of places in Philly and I’m sure in many other cities, where it’s small and beloved, and it really only works when there are a bunch of people there. I don’t know if all of a sudden we’re knocked off the face of the earth — or if we just have to make adjustments,” Prince says. He doubts whether Bob & Barbara’s will be able to host their usual activities for a while to come, though he’s committed to keeping the drag show going above all else.

Dives are cherished for their dark interiors, raucous atmospheres, and egalitarian walk-in only service, all aspects that make it hard for dives to accommodate social distancing. The bars are known for simple menus, cheap drinks, and even their grimy atmospheres, which help them thrive during traditional economic downturns but lower their appeal for anyone afraid of germs during a pandemic. “My god, we don’t even take credit cards, and now everyone is like, ‘Cash is poison,’” Prince says.

Some bar owners are making creative pivots to find business. “Bars that are solely bars, with no restaurant attached, have to come up with ideas to make stuff work,” says Susan Carnel, who has owned the Living Room in Los Angeles since 2017. She has been working with a soul food restaurant next door, Chef Marilyn’s, to collaborate on an outdoor eating and drinking area.

Carnel recognizes how lucky she is to have a willing neighbor and a parking lot where they can set up, but even with a way to do business, she’s not sure customers will show. “I anticipate problems because I cater to an older crowd,” she says, clarifying, “older black people. And they’re saying the virus is attacking black people more than anybody else. These guys are really leery. They’re like, ‘I don’t know Susan. If you open back up, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it.’” In the evenings, the Living Room serves a different crowd. “Due to gentrification, the crowd is multicultural, which I like. Everyone gets along. It’s like Cheers if you ask me,” she says. But she remains committed to her daytime regulars. “I’m just trying to cater to them because they really keep the club open. Those are the ones who come to spend money. Those are the ones I have history with.”

Carnel is also concerned about her staff. “I asked one of my bartenders, ‘If we open up in July, are you coming back?’ And he says he doesn’t know. And I get it. I would have a problem with that too, especially if there’s no cure for the virus.”

Mark Connell, who has owned Botanica in New York for 15 years, says his staff are actually antsy to get back to work, but he still has to find a way to pay them. “No bartender is going to go back to work to make a couple drinks to-go when they can make $1,100 on unemployment,” he says. The bar has been mostly closed since March 16, even as nearby restaurants find ways to pivot. Fine-dining restaurant Estela, directly upstairs from Botanica, has been selling expensive dinner boxes and even a puzzle depicting their famous mussels escabeche.

Armed with a forgivable PPP loan and an interest-free loan from the New York Small Business Service, Connell brought back some staff in May to try offering to-go drinks, along with bags of chips to get around a city rule that requires food to accompany takeout alcohol. They saw 7 percent of usual sales, and only kept at it in order to use up the time-sensitive PPP loan.

“The only people who would order a beer from us, or a cocktail from us, are people who are going to be scofflaws and wandering around the streets drinking alcohol, or people who just want to be generous and just want to help us stay in business,” he says. Since the time limit on the PPP loan was extended, though, Connell says Botanica will probably remain shut until they can seat guests inside or nab one of the contested parking spots out front for al fresco seating.

Connell recognizes that Botanica caters to a young crowd, who can’t spend much money but are happy to risk infection for a drink with friends. He says his bartenders “just don’t care” about getting infected either. Still, he’s wary of customers who flout the rules and will leave his business open to conflict with city authorities. “Someone will drop a dime,” he says. “Someone will call 311. And then we get a visit from the health department.” While he is clear he would never condone his customers breaking social distancing, he’s still concerned about how the city will regulate places like Botanica where young, carefree folks tend to gather.

In many cities, the pandemic has intensified pre-existing economic trends which squeeze owners who are committed to providing affordable service. The price of the special at Bob & Barbara’s has crept up over the last few years from $3 to $3.50 to $4, and Prince is unsure how he’ll price it when the business reopens.

“We sell beers for $3 because I still believe if you have 20 bucks in your pocket you should be able to go out and have a few drinks with your friends in New York City,” Connell says of Botanica, but he adds, “I have to sell a lot of $3 PBRs to hit rent.” While he says he’s lucky to have a generous landlord who values a stable tenant, he recognizes that generosity can only stretch so far. At some point financial reality may overcome loyalty.

Dive bars have long been an endangered species in many cities. Some owners have found success by reinventing dives with updated menus and cleaned-up interiors. In Portland, Oregon, for example, Marcus Archambeault and Warren Boothby have been able to preserve a handful of historic bars, including the Sandy Hut, originally established in 1923. The duo purchased the bar seven years ago, committing to maintaining the bar’s historic character while offering patrons craft cocktails and something more to eat than chicken tenders. They also made a key decision a year ago to buy the building, removing rent from the laundry list of concerns during the pandemic, at least for one bar.

“There’s been so much transformation in that neighborhood over the last 10 years,” Archambeault says. “There’s always this fear, particularly with the Sandy Hut, that the place is going to disappear. A lot of people have this idea that it’s going to go away or going to be sold, but we’re planning to be there, continuing on the business as is.”

Connell too has worked to update Botanica without losing its heart. Last year, New York granted Botanica a Love Your Local grant for $90,000, which Connell attributes to the city’s recognition “that landlords and vacant storefronts and Starbucks and CVS are sucking the soul out of the city.” He put the money toward updating the bar, keeping it accessible to his regulars but also making it more attractive to the expensive cocktail-drinking crowd. “We offer Yamazaki for $15 a pop because if you want to spend money, we need that money. We can’t survive on $3 Pabst,” he says.

The COVID-19 pandemic may only accelerate that trend. “We’re slowly changing things and trying not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Just trying to clean the place up. Which stands us in good stead for the next phase of this whole thing. Because no one is going to want to sit in a…” Connell trails off, but it’s easy for a pessimist to fill in the end of that sentence. No one is going to want to sit in a dirty dive bar.

But Connell doesn’t seem pessimistic about the future of dives. “The people who go to the cocktail bars and spend $16 to $20, do those people really have loyalty to a brand or a bar? I don’t think so. And those are the people who are all now in the Hamptons or Aspen or wherever their second or third homes are,” he says. “There are still some regular people and they’re not going to the places with the $16 to $20 cocktails. They just want to go out and socialize in cheap places. I think we’re going to be alright.”

Prince sums it up succinctly, “If this is the end, wow that sucks. But hopefully we will live on.”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/31bWJVL https://ift.tt/37SB4Dc

Lisa Thompson performs during a drag show at Bob and Barbara’s Lounge | Ricky Carioti/The Washington Post via Getty Images

Drinkers love dark, rowdy, cheap, cash-only dives, but those bars struggle with safety measures like social distancing and takeout

“Bob & Barbara’s Lounge is a tradition in Philadelphia,” says owner Jack Prince. He has run the bar with his wife Gretchen for the last quarter-century, but it originally opened in 1969 and still bears the wood paneling, pendant lights over the bar, and distinctive acrylic windows to prove it. “When people come from out of town, it’s one of the places people take them to see. They’ll take them to Pat’s and Geno’s to see the cheesesteak wars. They’ll drive ‘em by the Liberty Bell. And they’ll take ‘em to Bob & Barbara’s for a special.”

The special, popularized around Philly as a “citywide special,” consists of a shot of Jim Beam bourbon and a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon for $4. It’s one of the things that makes Bob & Barbara’s so beloved, along with the “liquor drinkin’ music” that fills the bar on weekends and the famed weekly drag show.

As states and cities reopen bars following the COVID-19 pandemic, lively, low-cost venues like Bob & Barbara’s may struggle to meet strict social distancing requirements or serve patrons in other ways, like with takeout cocktails. “There are a lot of places in Philly and I’m sure in many other cities, where it’s small and beloved, and it really only works when there are a bunch of people there. I don’t know if all of a sudden we’re knocked off the face of the earth — or if we just have to make adjustments,” Prince says. He doubts whether Bob & Barbara’s will be able to host their usual activities for a while to come, though he’s committed to keeping the drag show going above all else.

Dives are cherished for their dark interiors, raucous atmospheres, and egalitarian walk-in only service, all aspects that make it hard for dives to accommodate social distancing. The bars are known for simple menus, cheap drinks, and even their grimy atmospheres, which help them thrive during traditional economic downturns but lower their appeal for anyone afraid of germs during a pandemic. “My god, we don’t even take credit cards, and now everyone is like, ‘Cash is poison,’” Prince says.

Some bar owners are making creative pivots to find business. “Bars that are solely bars, with no restaurant attached, have to come up with ideas to make stuff work,” says Susan Carnel, who has owned the Living Room in Los Angeles since 2017. She has been working with a soul food restaurant next door, Chef Marilyn’s, to collaborate on an outdoor eating and drinking area.

Carnel recognizes how lucky she is to have a willing neighbor and a parking lot where they can set up, but even with a way to do business, she’s not sure customers will show. “I anticipate problems because I cater to an older crowd,” she says, clarifying, “older black people. And they’re saying the virus is attacking black people more than anybody else. These guys are really leery. They’re like, ‘I don’t know Susan. If you open back up, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it.’” In the evenings, the Living Room serves a different crowd. “Due to gentrification, the crowd is multicultural, which I like. Everyone gets along. It’s like Cheers if you ask me,” she says. But she remains committed to her daytime regulars. “I’m just trying to cater to them because they really keep the club open. Those are the ones who come to spend money. Those are the ones I have history with.”

Carnel is also concerned about her staff. “I asked one of my bartenders, ‘If we open up in July, are you coming back?’ And he says he doesn’t know. And I get it. I would have a problem with that too, especially if there’s no cure for the virus.”

Mark Connell, who has owned Botanica in New York for 15 years, says his staff are actually antsy to get back to work, but he still has to find a way to pay them. “No bartender is going to go back to work to make a couple drinks to-go when they can make $1,100 on unemployment,” he says. The bar has been mostly closed since March 16, even as nearby restaurants find ways to pivot. Fine-dining restaurant Estela, directly upstairs from Botanica, has been selling expensive dinner boxes and even a puzzle depicting their famous mussels escabeche.

Armed with a forgivable PPP loan and an interest-free loan from the New York Small Business Service, Connell brought back some staff in May to try offering to-go drinks, along with bags of chips to get around a city rule that requires food to accompany takeout alcohol. They saw 7 percent of usual sales, and only kept at it in order to use up the time-sensitive PPP loan.

“The only people who would order a beer from us, or a cocktail from us, are people who are going to be scofflaws and wandering around the streets drinking alcohol, or people who just want to be generous and just want to help us stay in business,” he says. Since the time limit on the PPP loan was extended, though, Connell says Botanica will probably remain shut until they can seat guests inside or nab one of the contested parking spots out front for al fresco seating.

Connell recognizes that Botanica caters to a young crowd, who can’t spend much money but are happy to risk infection for a drink with friends. He says his bartenders “just don’t care” about getting infected either. Still, he’s wary of customers who flout the rules and will leave his business open to conflict with city authorities. “Someone will drop a dime,” he says. “Someone will call 311. And then we get a visit from the health department.” While he is clear he would never condone his customers breaking social distancing, he’s still concerned about how the city will regulate places like Botanica where young, carefree folks tend to gather.

In many cities, the pandemic has intensified pre-existing economic trends which squeeze owners who are committed to providing affordable service. The price of the special at Bob & Barbara’s has crept up over the last few years from $3 to $3.50 to $4, and Prince is unsure how he’ll price it when the business reopens.

“We sell beers for $3 because I still believe if you have 20 bucks in your pocket you should be able to go out and have a few drinks with your friends in New York City,” Connell says of Botanica, but he adds, “I have to sell a lot of $3 PBRs to hit rent.” While he says he’s lucky to have a generous landlord who values a stable tenant, he recognizes that generosity can only stretch so far. At some point financial reality may overcome loyalty.

Dive bars have long been an endangered species in many cities. Some owners have found success by reinventing dives with updated menus and cleaned-up interiors. In Portland, Oregon, for example, Marcus Archambeault and Warren Boothby have been able to preserve a handful of historic bars, including the Sandy Hut, originally established in 1923. The duo purchased the bar seven years ago, committing to maintaining the bar’s historic character while offering patrons craft cocktails and something more to eat than chicken tenders. They also made a key decision a year ago to buy the building, removing rent from the laundry list of concerns during the pandemic, at least for one bar.

“There’s been so much transformation in that neighborhood over the last 10 years,” Archambeault says. “There’s always this fear, particularly with the Sandy Hut, that the place is going to disappear. A lot of people have this idea that it’s going to go away or going to be sold, but we’re planning to be there, continuing on the business as is.”

Connell too has worked to update Botanica without losing its heart. Last year, New York granted Botanica a Love Your Local grant for $90,000, which Connell attributes to the city’s recognition “that landlords and vacant storefronts and Starbucks and CVS are sucking the soul out of the city.” He put the money toward updating the bar, keeping it accessible to his regulars but also making it more attractive to the expensive cocktail-drinking crowd. “We offer Yamazaki for $15 a pop because if you want to spend money, we need that money. We can’t survive on $3 Pabst,” he says.

The COVID-19 pandemic may only accelerate that trend. “We’re slowly changing things and trying not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Just trying to clean the place up. Which stands us in good stead for the next phase of this whole thing. Because no one is going to want to sit in a…” Connell trails off, but it’s easy for a pessimist to fill in the end of that sentence. No one is going to want to sit in a dirty dive bar.

But Connell doesn’t seem pessimistic about the future of dives. “The people who go to the cocktail bars and spend $16 to $20, do those people really have loyalty to a brand or a bar? I don’t think so. And those are the people who are all now in the Hamptons or Aspen or wherever their second or third homes are,” he says. “There are still some regular people and they’re not going to the places with the $16 to $20 cocktails. They just want to go out and socialize in cheap places. I think we’re going to be alright.”

Prince sums it up succinctly, “If this is the end, wow that sucks. But hopefully we will live on.”

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[all-hallows-scream]

Book Recs for Autumn and Halloween !

So as a lot of you probably know, I love horror stories and Halloween-y books. I read them year round, like many of you probably do also, but when autumn rolls around I think we can all agree we need a few really good books for the season. In no particular order, these are a few of my personal favs!

1. Tithe by Holly Black

This book is one of my all time favorites, and as I’m sure you can tell, is all about faeries. I read this every year around October/September. It’s not necessarily a happy go lucky fairytale story. It’s dark and makes you fear the seelie court as well as wish you could visit it yourself. Black’s writing is absolutely beautiful as well, so that’s always a plus. I recommend every single book she’s ever written they’re all amazing and perfect for Halloween.

2. Slasher Girls & Monster Boys by April Genevieve Tucholke

Okay so technically this isn’t written by Tucholke. This book was compiled by her. SG&MB is a collection of horror short stories by various other authors including Cat Winters, Danielle, Paige,  Megan Shepherd, Kendare Blake, and A.G. Howard. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I liked every single story in the book. And, to top it all off, they’re all inspired by other works such as The Birds, Alice in Wonderland, and I Know What You Did Last Summer. (”In the Forest Dark and Deep” is based off of Alice in Wonderland and is my personal favorite.)

3. The Diviners by Libba Bray

I have a lot of feelings about this book, and I’m not entirely sure how to put them in words. This book ... y’all ... it’s incredible. It’s set in 1920′s New York and is all about, you guessed it, Diviners. Specifically, a Diviner named Evie who is trying to help solve murders being done by a serial killer who ... uhhh ... happens to be a ghost brought back through a ouija board. Explaining that sounds a little bit cheesy but I swear on my grave this book is well worth the read. However! It is quite long. 578 pages to be exact. But again, so very worth it. And the third book is coming out October 3rd!

4. The Merciless and Survive the Night by Danielle Vega

Now .. truly I didn’t want to have two books by the same author on this list but both of these books are amazing and I couldn’t chose. The Merciless is like .. The Exorcist meets Mean Girls. It was very fun to read and stayed that way until the last few chapters where things started getting very intense and way creepy. Survive the Night is a rave underground gone horribly wrong when people start getting killed by someone or ... something? Both are very good and get very wild towards the end. In a good way, though!

5. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

I’ve read this book a million times. However, I haven’t read it in a while so I think that’ll be one of my reads this month! The Night Circus is about a circus that appears without warning and is only open at night. Le Cirque des Rêves ; the circus of dreams. This circus is primarily created by our two main characters who are competing against each other; it’s a duel between the two magicians. That they’re completely unaware of.  Because of this duel, they create beautiful, amazing circus tents that could literally only exist in a dream. I’m horrible at describing this book, so please, read it and you’ll see what I mean! You might not be able to read it all in one sitting though. When I first read it I had to take breaks between chapters to “catch my breath” so to speak!

6. The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

I think we all know what The Exorcist is. Hailed as a classic horror movie by many. Which I truthfully don’t understand because after reading the book, the movie seemed tame. This book scared the hell out of me. It was so incredibly creepy and I loved every second of it. The movie actually skipped one of my favorite book scenes which was a bit disappointing. I could not put the book down though, and honestly got chills a few times. I don’t think I need to explain any further why you should read it this Halloween!

7. Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy

Okay. This book is in fact more of a middle grade book. But the plus side of that is that it’s an easy read, as well as very well written and entertaining. It’s full of magic and kicking ass. The concept sounds silly; a magical skeleton detective with a twelve year old side kick who only just found out she can also do magic. It definitely sounds like a kids book. But it’s so incredibly funny and just good. I did start the series when I was about thirteen, so I might be biased, but I still reread the series to this day and enjoy every second of it! There are, I believe, 10 books in the series as well as four novellas, but reading just the first one is good enough to get your Halloween fix. I don’t even have the last two books. The only problem with this series is that you have to order it from Ireland because I believe only the first two books were released in the U.S.

8. My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix

This book is just another demon possession story but it’s very entertaining. It’s set in the 80s and one night after a bad acid trip, Gretchen, Abby’s best friend, seems to get possessed. Things get wild from there as everyone but Abby abandons her, and then the tables turn as the demon seemingly flips a switch and makes Gretchen a perfect student, gaining everyone’s trust and affection,  making them turn their backs on Abby. It’s a wild ride from start to finish and you’ll probably hate everyone in the book at one point, but it’s a great read. And the cover looks like a campy 80s horror movie VHS art!

9. Masque of the Red Death by Bethany Griffin

If you like Edgar Allan Poe, you’ll like this book. It includes steampunk, the plague, clubs, glitter, death ... what more could you ask for? Griffin states that she wanted to know more about the characters of Poe’s short story, and that’s where her story originated. A very good read, whether it’s Halloween or not!

10. Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake

I read this book a while ago but still stand by the fact that it was a great read. This book is about a boy named Cas who’s purpose on this Earth is to kill the undead aka ghost, demons, etc. When we meet Cas, his goal is to find Anna Dressed in Blood, a notorious ghost, and send her back to where she belongs. The issue is that she kills anyone who enters her house, wrapped up in the rage of her brutal murder. And of course, you probably guessed it, she let’s Cas live. It sounds a little cliche, but it’s a great seasonal read and if you’re looking for something easy to pick up one day, it’s perfect!

I wish I could include more books on this list but unfortunately, many of the ones I wanted to include I haven’t actually finished yet. They’re amazing, but I think before I decide to recommend them to people, I should finish them first! Hopefully next year I’ll have a lot of new books to recommend! Hope you enjoy this list!

What books do you think should be on here?