#this might have been inspired by my recent trip to vegas

[cjskribblez]

Wanna B.E.T.?

[enbylesbianism]

ANY WAY THE WIND BLOWS: Simon Snow trilogy wrapped! (review)

Hi, there! It took me a while to finish this post, as I could talk about it for... a long time (not necessarily a good thing), but I got it! I like praise, so if anyone wants to tell me I did a good job... Also, I might edit this post later on. I don’t remember anything else I’d like to add, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I did after posting. My brain does not obey me. Anyways, off to it! By the way, I won’t give this book a real rating.

While this is a review on Any Way the Wind Blows, I intend on analysing some points of the overall series too. The book starts where Wayward Son left off, the end of the road trip, Simon and Baz having problems in their relationship, Penelope helping Shepard with his curse... and the whole situation of the NowNext vampires. Rainbow Rowell only seems to remember the first part. That leaves us with the second book of the series ignored almost completely, with the exception of Simon and Baz’s feelings as well as Shepard’s existence.

Don’t get me wrong, aspects of the book are mentioned, but never in a truly important way. Lamb, the Vampire King, is mentioned by Simon, but only focusing on his and Baz’s relationship, never about the fact that there are a bunch of vampires (supposedly ‘evil’) in the U.S. but I guess what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? I could count on one hand the times the NowNext vampires were mentioned (like, literally, this isn’t an exaggeration, I looked up ‘NowNext’ on the e-book and only got five results), all of them either being one of them considering telling someone else about it, then not following through with it, or dismissing it as a concern for Lamb. Which makes the plot of Wayward Son completely useless for the trilogy. Now, that wouldn’t matter as much if everything else had been properly developed, but we definitely can’t say that.

We are introduced to a brand new, poorly developed villain, Smith-Smith Richards, whose character arc is as ridiculous as his name. He’s one of the fake Chosen Ones that started appearing after the events of Carry On (and the only one to be mentioned and/or defeated, for that matter). It becomes clear that presenting as Simon Snow-ish is part of his brand, especially when Baz describes him as looking like the Netflix adaptation version of Simon, and that he was raised and guided by his uncle, who’s just... there. I don’t think it would’ve been hard to make him manipulating Smith-Smith into believing he’s the prophetic savior of the Magickal World, which would not only make both of their characters more interesting, but it could also serve as a parallel of Simon’s relationship with the Mage. Richards also has some special powers such as increasing a mage’s magic for a limited amount of time, but taking it away afterwards, as well as making someone immune from spells. It’s worth saying those aren’t skills that are usual in the Magickal World, or else there wouldn’t be so much confusion and shock from people (specially Baz and Penny, who would definitely have heard of something like this before), but we get no explanation on why or how Richard has them.

Then, we have the Salisbury’s. We, as readers, already know Lucy and Davy are Simon’s parents, making Ruth his grandmother. It’s noticeable that Rowell builds up to that discovery, by making Simon get along with Ruth instantly, him thinking about Lucy a lot etc. It makes us excited to read the part where they actually figure it out, to know how Simon would deal with that, him dealing with the fact that he’s the Mage’s son and the fact that, technically, he killed his father. I suppose that’s the point, but actually getting to that part was incredibly underwhelming. The way they discovered about Simon—being able to lift a family sword—hadn’t been mentioned or hinted at before. One would’ve expected Simon, who’s particularly interested in swords as it’s mentioned many times throughout the series, to notice a freaking Excalibur at the Salisbury’s place before. 

And speaking of noticing things: when it’s finally revealed that Simon is Lucy’s son and the Mage’s heir, Baz pointed out the uncanny similarities between his boyfriend and the deceased Watford principal. “Those narrow eyes. That tilt of his head. I thought... I thought he’d learned it. Was imitating it.” + “Merlin, Simon, you even look like him.”  (Any Way the Wind Blows, chapter 86) Simon was the Mage’s protégé for years and I assume the Magickal authorities knew that he was the one to inherit all of his money and personal belongings, but no one, in the whole British Magickal community, thought about them being related? I refuse to believe there were no conspiracy theorist teachers at Watford or that Mitali or even the Pitch’s alongside everyone who was against the Mage didn’t at least check to know if there was something behind those characteristics. Baz literally said (chapter 88), “I think it’s undeniable. I’d cast ‘Flesh and blood’ on them, but it would bounce right off of Snow (...)”, so there is a spell for that. Plus, we didn’t even have one whole chapter of Simon dealing with this information! The chapters (no more than five, out of ninety-one) were divided between Simon, Baz and Lady Ruth’s POVs. He’s the main character, so one would think he’d get more development.

Another point that felt rushed was the romance. While Simon and Baz’s relationship wasn’t, as it’s been a topic Rowell has explored for three books (we’re not counting Fangirl here, as their ‘participation’ on it was minor and their personalities weren’t as consistent as in the trilogy. Not that it is that consistent there), the others just felt like she wanted everyone to finish the trilogy with a pair. I’ll start with Shepard and Penny. There were fans who liked them together before Any Way the Wind Blows, but it wasn’t hinted at—it was more like a fandom thing. I personally like them as a couple, but it could have had development and, maybe, foreshadowing in Wayward Son. I mean, they did fight monsters during a huge part of a road trip together.

The next one I’ll talk about is Agatha and Niamh. I love them, don’t get me wrong. Actually, it’s precisely because I love them that I wish they’d gotten a better treatment. Niamh wasn’t introduced before Any Way the Wind Blows. I get why she wasn’t introduced in Carry On—it was interesting to see a character who wasn’t caught up in Simon and Baz’s drama during the school years—but a hint of her existence could’ve been left in Wayward Son. Agatha is an important character on it, and a mention of her father training an aspiring veterinary could’ve fit somewhere, as a hint, maybe. (Also, Lucy, the dog, being absolutely forgotten during this book when a lot of Agatha’s time is spent in a veterinary clinic...) Besides, we could get the vibes from them, but after they kissed, there was barely any content. We didn’t get them calling each other ‘girlfriend’ (or if they even like that label at this point), or the aftermath of the kiss, or a POV from Niamh. Or Niamh appearing the epilogue? If Agatha was taking care of the goats, I’m sure Niamh would have a part in that too. Still on Agatha’s character, but not on Niamh’s, it felt like Rainbow Rowell was setting up for aromantic and asexual Agatha, specially because of this quote: “It was like she'd pulled the feeling right out of my heart. I could have kissed her. (I still wish sometimes that I wanted to.) (That would feel like an answer to... the question of me. Then I could say, 'Oh, thats who I am. That's why I've been so confused.')” (Wayward Son, chapter 4).

And I was leaving the best (I need to be sure everyone knows I mean this sarcastically) of the romance topic for the end: Fiona and Nicodemus. It’s just... so forced and undeveloped. Not even because, to me, they’re both gay as hell. There was just... such a lack of development! I don’t think we had any interaction between the both of them before Any Way the Wind Blows. There was no foreshadowing or why would Fiona, a vampire hunter from a family of vampire hunters, would marry... a vampire! I’d already find it weird to see fanfiction of them as a crackship, but it’s canon?! Like, canon as in they’re going to get married and use Fiona and Natasha’s mother’s ring? Seriously, nothing will take from me that this is a lavender marriage (as I’ve already discussed with my best friend, which inspired this post of theirs.)

I’d also like to speak about a topic that’d been hinted throughout the series, especially post-Carry On, which is the criticism towards the Magickal Community in the U.K.. That criticism is very much embodied in Shepard’s character. It’s explicitly said that the British mages have some kind of supremacy towards other supernatural beings, such as vampires for example, gatekeeping literal magic. Up until relatively recently, mages with weak links with magic couldn’t attend Watford (and that’s a major plot point in the final book) and there’s a denial towards any other kind of magic except the ones that are part of their craft. Even within the Magickal community itself, there are more important families that are more likely to succeed, like Natasha receiving criticism for marrying Malcolm, as a Pitch. It felt pointless not to tackle the issues you’ve set up yourself in your own universe. Penelope has very strict morals related to magickal law and beliefs, something that she could’ve deconstructed, especially considering Shepard, her love interest, symbolises that. Another point related to that is, the trilogy is very clearly heavily inspired by Harry Potter, where many of those points are very clear (e.g. wizard supremacy in relation to other species, such as werewolves and domestic elves and the status quo that makes some traditionally magical families more influential than others, like the Malfoy’s vs. the Weasley’s), so it’s not an easily forgettable concept.

The series also had a lot of inconsistencies. The one I’ve seen talked about more often is Simon and Agatha’s... intimacy status, let’s call it that. Simon’s whole thing in the first book was that he struggled controlling his magic when experiencing intense emotions, which makes it hard to believe that he managed to have sex withount an... accident. Besides that, though, there’s this quote, “She (...) presses a kiss into my temple. No one has ever kissed me there. No one has ever kissed me anywhere but on my mouth” (Carry On, Chapter 27), but in Any Way the Wind Blows, when Simon’s about to have his wings cut, Agatha says, “It’s a strange feeling to look at someone’s chest and know it’s nothing to do with you anymore, but still to remember kissing every inch.” (Chapter 14)

So, we have established that Rainbow Rowell’s work, both character and plot driven, is flawed. “But we got the characters interacting for the closure of the series, at least!” Well... we got interactions between the canon romantic relationships, yeah. But besides that, we didn’t get much. There were no interactions between Agatha and Penny, or Shepard with Simon and Baz. Or Penny and her mother figuring stuff out. Or literally anyone with a therapist. And not gonna lie, the interaction we got between Baz and Dev was underwhelming, to say the least. Niall is nowhere to be seen, too.

Rainbow Rowell’s writing is beautiful: she writes poetic lines that make the book seem perfect at first glance, if you don’t think about it for too long. Her words are very shiny, but once you get use to that light and see what’s behind them, what’s between one shiny quote and another, it has so many flaws and plot holes that it reads like a first draft. There are many concepts in there that are genuinely good: the rest of the trilogy focused on the protagonist dealing with the trauma of being a child soldier instead of being entirely an adventure, Simon being unlabelled, a fake Chosen One that gives mages fake hope... Those are all good ideas, but so poorly explored that, despite being an entire book/trilogy, it still feels like a writing pitch or something among those lines.

I felt iffy about other things during my reading of the series, but they aren’t exactly plot points, so I’ll just list them below:

Mitali, Penny’s mom, including ‘discovering your bisexuality’ as a mid-life crisis thing 

As I’ve seen people talking about biphobia/bi erasure in the books, I’ll be including this post that features both unlabelled and bisexual individuals talking about the topic (it isn’t my place, as a lesbian, to talk about this, that’s why I decided not to do so.)

Romanticising of Baz’s suicide (a.k.a. chapter 61) in the first book. If you’re not in a good place mentally, like I was when I first read Carry On, I hope you know that a kiss or romance doesn’t help any mental illness you or others might have. Don’t let anyone use your guilt to manipulate you. Paraphrasing Alice Oseman in their graphic novel Heartstopper, love can’t cure a mental illness.

Any Way the Wind Blows was... very horny. I can’t point out how this makes the book bad exactly, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. One of Rainbow Rowell’s strongest skills is that her quotes, when loose, are good. They tend to be poetic and just beautiful, overall. But in the... explicit scenes, these skills were barely used, and I felt like I was reading NSFW tweets off of someone’s private account on Twitter. Besides, the first two books of the series weren’t written like that, so the change was very sudden.

The older people could’ve been more explored. Penelope and Mitali’s relationship and how similar the both of them are compared to each other, Daphne and Professor Bunce’s insecurities and why they believed in Smith-Smith, Fiona, Nico, and Ebb... Also, the Mage and Lucy. We could’ve had more on them, y’know. 

The pop culture references. They made the book read even more like Twitter’s feed. Honestly, if I wanted to read prompts and nice ship content alongside memes from Twitter with some horny thoughts sprinkled all around, I would’ve opened the Twitter app. Or Tumblr, Instagram, whatever.

The POV switching felt lazy to me at times. It’s nice to know how different characters are experiencing that situation, yes, but sometimes, like during the discovery that Simon is a Salisbury, it read as if Rowell wanted to create tension, but couldn’t think of any other way to do it except the switching around.

Narrative wise, I think Simon and Baz should’ve spent more time broken up. 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

2020 Fics

Hi ya’ll! I took some inspiration from my girl @supernatural-jackles and did a round up of all the fics I posted this year! Anything from 2020 is below and organized by pairing. I never realized I did so many oneshots this year until now. I’m looking forward to what 2021 brings!

Dean: 78 Fics (35 oneshots, 32 imagines, 10 series, 1 drabble)

Sam: 6 fics (4 oneshots, 2 imagines)

Jensen: 20 Fics (16 oneshots, 3 imagines, 1 series)

Jared: 4 Fics (3 oneshots, 1 imagine)

No Pairing: 3 Fics (3 oneshots)

Poly Pairing: 3 Fics (2 oneshots, 1 imagine)

Other Characters: 1 Fic (1 oneshot)

Total 2020: 115 Fics (64 oneshots, 39 imagines, 11 series, 1 drabble)

Dean x reader

Out Of The Way (Part 2) (Bartender!Dean x reader) - The reader has been working at the bar for a while and things seem to be running smoothly as she and Dean continue to grow closer.

Creep (Dean x reader) - The reader runs into an old flame at the bar.

Girl’s Trip (Dean x reader) - Dean wakes up the reader and her friends after the reader’s bachorlette party in Vegas.

Quarantine (Doctor!Dean x Nurse!reader) - After an accident at work leaves the reader exposed to a dangerous virus, she has has to spend two weeks in quarantine with her ex-boyfriend, Dean.

Not Stupid (Dean x reader) (11x17 Rewrite) - After a hunt goes wrong, the reader and Sam are injured and it only gets worse from there.

Rough Ride (Dean x reader) (smut) - The reader gets in trouble with Dean on purpose but he’s going to make her work to get off.

Stranded (EMT!Dean x reader) (smut) - After a car accident, the reader and Dean are stranded on the side of the road in a storm and begin to bicker. When Dean nearly leaves, she incentivizes him to stay.

Anything For You (Michael!Dean x reader) (smut) - The reader has another one of her control lessons with Michael.

My Oh My (Alpha!Dean x omega!reader) (smut) - The reader and her next door neighbor Dean have an arrangement to help one another through heats and ruts or just to fool around when they feel like it. When the reader’s heat hits though, things go differently this time around.

Omega Mine (Omega!Dean x omega!reader) (smut) - After a long hunt, Dean’s heat hits him full on and triggers the reader’s as well. But Dean needs to be taken care of first, the reader has just the trick.

Hot Pink (Dean x reader) (smut) - After a hunt, Dean needs an extra roll of bandages and finds something intriguing in the reader’s bag.

Harder (AU Dom!Dean x sub!reader) (smut) - The reader has a bad day at work and needs Dean to help her unwind, even if she might take it too far.

Natural (Dean x reader) (smut) - After sharing their feelings for one another, the reader and Dean are finally about to get intimate. Only the reader gets nervous about how she might look downstairs.

The Game (Dean x reader) - After Dean’s death, the reader isn’t in great shape and would prefer to stay home and be miserable. But when she gets a letter from Dean, she soon starts playing a game he created for her in the event that he died to help her try to get the closure she needs.

Can’t Stand The Heat (Cowboy!Dean x reader) (smut) - After a long day at work, Dean comes home to a very warm reader in very little clothing.

Dry Spell (Dean x reader) (smut) - When Dean is cursed on a hunt, he discovers a few things belonging to him may be missing. It may be some time before they find a cure but the reader doesn’t see a problem with this.

Five Times I Fell For You (Dean x reader) - Five different times Dean has fallen in love with the reader over the course of their relationship.

Blank Slate (Actor!Dean x reader) - After losing her memories of her life with her family, the reader has to try and piece together what exactly happened to her with her husband’s help.

Mateless Mate (Alpha!Dean x Human!reader) - The reader moves into her new apartment and meets her Alpha neighbor, Dean. He seems friendly enough but he’s very adamant that he and the reader are going to be something more.

Mated For Life (Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader) - It’s not a good night when Dean’s father comes over unannounced to try and drag Dean on a hunt. Unfortunately, things go from bad to worse fast.

A New Kind Of Misery (Part 1) (Soulmate!Dean x Actress!reader) - After a night out, the reader wakes up the next day to discover her soulmate mark is now on her body. Except she has no idea who they are.

A New Kind Of Misery (Part 2) (Soulmate!Dean x Actress!reader) - After a night out, the reader wakes up the next day to discover her soulmate mark is now on her body. Except she has no idea who they are.

Somebody I Used To Know (Endverse!Dean x reader) - Months into the end of the world, the reader helps out a mysterious man she’s never seen before. He asks her to meet up with him where she learns she used to know him better than anyone.

One Room Left (Dean x reader) - Dean and the reader find out their motel room only has one bed. This ends up being a very good thing.

Roommates (AU!Dean x reader) - The reader’s roommate, Dean, is looking a little worse for wear after work one night. When he passes out on the couch, she knows something needs to change.

Snowed In (AU!Dean x reader) - The reader is staying over her best friend Dean’s house for the weekend due to a nasty winter storm. During a game of truth or dare, Dean makes an unusual dare that will make serious changes to their friendship.

What You Wish For (Prince!Dean x Princess!reader) - Princess Y/N isn’t pleased to have to attend a boring business dinner with the royal family of the neighboring kingdom. When she complains to her fairy godfather about it, she and a certain young prince get a lesson in being careful what you wish for.

Memories (Dean x reader) - When Dean discovers the reader has abilities she’s never told him about, he breaks things off. But when she wanders back into the Winchester’s lives a year later, he starts to realize there’s more to the situation than just a few lies.

Three’s Company (Dean x reader) (smut) - The reader discovers that the AU Dean that’s been living with them lately may have a thing for her. Dean’s known for a while though and is okay with letting the reader play out a certain desire of hers with the alternate Dean.

Change Of Plans (Dean x reader) - As the reader and Dean begin their romantic weekend away, mother nature decides to visit the reader a week early and throw off all of their plans. Dean however is intent on making sure the reader feels okay and is still enjoying their time together.

15 x 20 (Dean x reader) - This is a semi-rewrite of episode 15x20.

The Boss From Hell (Demon!Dean x reader) (smut) - After Hell rose up under the rule of Boyking Sam and took over the earth, the reader has found herself working for Hell Corp and trying to be as productive an employee as possible to save herself from death. When she gets a call to meet with Sam himself though, he has a new job for her, one involving seducing his demon brother.

Unspoken (Dean x reader) - Dean is cursed with the inability to speak unless a cure can be found. It begins to wear on him in more ways than one.

Pajama Man (Dean x reader) - For their first holiday season away from hunting, Dean decides to get everyone some Christmas themed pajamas and something a little extra to celebrate Hanukkah too.

Good Point (AU!Dean x reader) - The reader isn’t too happy when the number on the scale has gone up during quarantine despite their best efforts to be healthier recently. Dean however has a different viewpoint that helps put things into perspective.

Imagine…Demon Dean Catching You (Demon!Dean x reader)

Imagine…Secretly Dating Dean (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Meeting Your Online Date In Person (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Debating Asking You Out (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Noticing When You’re Down (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Meeting The Other Winchesters (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Running Into AU Dean (AU!Dean x AU!reader)

Imagine…A Day On The River (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Being Cursed To Only Tell The Truth (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Counting Dean’s Freckles (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean On Game Night (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean’s First Sleepover (Daddy!Dean x reader)

Imagine…The Power Going Out (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Getting A Sunburn (Dean x reader)

Imagine…An Accidental Kiss (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Working Out With Dean (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Warming Up With Dean (Dean x reader)

Imagine…A Nighttime Hayride (Dean x reader)

Imagine…After A Bad Hunt (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Touch Football (AU!Dean x reader)

Imagine…Taking A Midnight Swim (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Sam Teasing You About Dean (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Nesting With Dean (Alpha!Dean x omega!reader)

Imagine…Running Into Your Ex (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean & His Babies (Daddy!Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Replacing Your Jacket With You Knowing (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Teaching You To Drive Baby (Dean x reader)

Imagine…An Elf On The Shelf Following Dean (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Decorating The Bunker (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Getting A Card From Dean (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Liking Harry Potter (Dean x reader)

Imagine…Dean Shoveling Snow (Dean x reader)

Not Losing You (Mechanic!Dean x reader) (Completed)

-The reader is pulled over on the side of the road when a man suddenly appears and proceeds to collapse in front of her. Little does she know, that may be a good thing for them both…

Make It Through The Night (Apocalypse!Dean x reader) (Completed)

- One year into the apocalypse, the reader finds herself in some trouble when a mysterious stranger shows up. When she finds out what exactly was the cause of the end of the world, she agrees to help him make things right…

The Shallows (Wildlife Agent!Dean x reader) (Completed)

-A few months after moving to a quiet little lake town on the edge of the state park, the reader has a near death experience and is saved by a man close by. When the police don’t take her seriously, he does and the pair stumble onto something bigger than they imagined…

My Little Secret (Mechanic!Dean x reader) (Completed)

-When a tragic accident happens, Dean takes a drastic measure in order to save the person he cares about most…

Still The One (Mechanic!Dean x reader) (Completed)

-When the reader’s childhood best friend, Dean, shows up at her door one night after a fight with his roommate, she invites him to stay. But things aren’t as simple as they seem…

The Wedding Date (AU!Dean x reader) (Completed)

- When the reader is in desperate need of a date to her sister’s wedding, she calls a service to fulfill the need and ends up meeting Dean Winchester…

A Nightmare In A Dream (Serial Killer!Dean x reader) (Completed)

- Six months after reuniting with the Winchesters and her brother, things are going good for the reader. She and Dean are happily together and occasionally stay with her brother, Matty, and Sam, who has been getting him used to normal life. Life appears to be heading in a good direction when the past has a way of creeping up again and dropping a bombshell on them all…

Strangers (Doctor!Dean x patient!reader) (Completed) - While getting a snack out of the vending machine, the reader bumps into a frustrated doctor who’s having a bad night and helps him get some perspective on things…

Home Bound (Dean x reader) (Dean’s POV) (Completed) - After defeating Chuck, Dean wakes up in the middle of nowhere Colorado four months after dying. He has no idea why he’s alive again or what’s going on. All he knows is his family is gone and he needs to get back home to figure out what brought him back to life and why. It’s easier said than done though in the middle of a brutal ice storm with Dean’s grief threatening to consume him every passing moment. Dean knows if he can just make it home, he’ll be okay again or so he hopes…

Soldier Boy (Superhero!Dean x reader) (Completed) - When the reader is saved by Soldier Boy, she isn’t all that happy with him. She makes an impression on him though which is perfect for her plans. But her simple job of getting Soldier Boy to fall for her for a little revenge isn’t so easy when she starts to see the man behind the mask…

You Ever…

_______

Sam x Reader

Heir To The Throne (Boyking!Sam x reader) (smut) - Sam’s had a hard day at work and needs to unwind.

Let Go (Dom!Sam x sub!reader) (smut) - The reader and Sam are beginning their new relationship but the reader has a few things to learn about being a sub.

Say It (Sam x reader) (smut) - The reader brings her bar hookup home and discovers that permission turns him a whole lot more than she thought it would.

Surprises (Sam x reader) (smut) - The reader has a few birthday surprises for Sam.

Sam’s Self-care Routine (Sam x reader)

Sex In The Impala (Sam x reader)

_______

Jensen x Reader

Breathe (Jensen x reader) (smut) - The reader is having an off day and wants to be left alone. Jensen on the other hand comes up with the perfect plan to make the reader feel wanted.

Twisted (Jensen x reader) - The reader goes to a sleepover at her boyfriend Jensen’s place but the night doesn’t end well when she starts feeling insecure.

Unexpected (Jensen x reader) - The reader and Jensen discover their odds of having children are low and look into adoption. When they end up fostering a teenager though, they realize what they thought they wanted might be right in front of them.

Mardi Gras (Jensen x reader) (smut) - A year after Jensen’s reign as King for Mardi Gras, the reader has a surprise for him. Only he has one for her as well.

Wrong Number (Jensen x reader) - An accidental text message leads to something more between Jensen and the reader.

Mated (Alpha!Jensen x Omega!reader) - The reader discovers that her old school classmate is in fact her true mate and she’s not sure how to feel about that at first.

Best Laid Plans (Jensen x reader) - When Jensen starts acting strange around the reader, she has a talk with Jared to ease her worries. In doing so, she reveals a secret of her own and may just put an end to her friendship with Jensen for good.

Love Notes (Jensen x reader) - After the show has finished filming, Jensen’s returned home and is feeling a little off. The reader decides to make a scavenger hunt to cheer him up with a fun surprise waiting at the end.

More Than Words (Jensen x reader) - The reader and her boyfriend Jensen have been together for years but she feels him slipping away when the physical distance between them starts affecting their relationship. She decides to end things for both their sakes when she feels him stop caring and tries to move on with her life. But an afternoon get together is going to change hers forever and she now has to figure out what that means for both her and Jensen.

Dark Little Places (Jensen x reader) - The reader makes an out of the blue comment about being happy which concerns Jensen that she might not be as happy as she seems to be.

All The Friends With Benefits (Jensen x reader) - The reader and Jensen are attending their friends Halloween party when they start flirting a little too hard for their own good.

I Got You (Part 1) (Jensen x reader) - The reader is celebrating her two year anniversary with her fiance when her best friend from childhood, Jensen, calls. Something’s wrong with him and he tries to play it off once he remembers what night it is for her but the reader isn’t budging and that may be a good thing for the both of them.

I Got You (Part 2) (Jensen x reader) - The reader has a quieter morning with Jensen while trying to convince him that he needs to talk to his family sooner rather than later if he wants to start feeling better.

The One Who Got Away (Jensen x reader) - While out with friends one night, the reader bumps into her old high school best friend, Jensen. They always had a will they, won’t they relationship but the reader finds things with Jensen don’t seem to be going as well she thinks they are.

Honey & Sweetheart (Jensen x reader) - The reader talks to Jensen and a special friend about struggling with parts of the finale.

Christmas Card (Photographer!Jensen x reader) - The reader and her family are getting some Christmas photos done when the reader inadvertently leaves her phone behind. When she goes to retrieve it, she gets to talking to the photographer.

The Glitter Prank (Jensen x reader)

Meeting Jensen Grocery Shopping (Jensen x reader)

Imagine…Jensen’s Self-care Routine (Jensen x reader)

Won’t You Stay (Jensen x Director!reader) (Completed)

- Having grown up with Ethan Y/L/N, one of Hollywood’s biggest and most loved stars, as a father, the reader is following in his footsteps and is directing her first movie. Even better, it’s the story she wrote and published years earlier, The Dark Woods, and her dad is set to play one of the leads. On the surface, her life seems perfect, even while she keeps the truth hidden. When the other lead actor drops out the first day of filming, they’re forced to find a replacement and fast. Jensen Ackles is an up and comer and seemingly knows the character inside and out. But he has a past too and the last thing either one of them wants is to get involved. But if they can get over their fears of being hurt again, they may find that they’re exactly what the other needs…

________

Jared x Reader

Saxx (Jared x reader) (smut) - The reader is determined to have Jared bottom for her tonight but first, she wants a special strip show from him.

A Texas Dream (Jared x reader) (smut) - After a shopping trip, Jared finds out the reader purchased a pair of her first authentic cowboy boots while the reader discovers that Jared really has a thing for them, even if he doesn’t want to admit it at first.

Reflect (Jared x reader) - Jared notices the reader shying away from him and suspects something serious with the way she views herself is going on.

Jared’s Self-Care Routine (Jared x reader)

_________

No Pairing 

Seeing Double (Part 2) (Alpha!Dean x Jensen) (platonic) - After the Winchesters show up at Jensen’s apartment, they discover getting the boys home may not be possible.

Beg For It (Lucifer x Michael) (smut) - Michael wants it again and Lucifer knows that. Tonight though, he wants to hear his brother beg.

Baby Brothers (Dean x sister!reader) - Dean shows up at the reader’s doorstep injured and looking for help. Little does he know, the reader is going to do more than fix up a few cuts for him.

________

Poly Pairing

Jared x Reader x Jensen

Silver Lining - After poor weather cancels their flight into Vancouver, the group rents a car in hopes of driving into town before filming is set to start. Unfortunately for them, their bad luck follows them and their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.

Jenneel x reader (Jensen x Reader x Danneel)

Photos - The reader and Danneel have a small fight over a present for Jensen that leads to his intervening and a small confession.

Sam x reader x Dean

Imagine…Telling The Boys You’re Pregnant (Sam x reader x Dean)

_________

Benny x Reader

Dangerous (Benny x reader) (smut) - The reader gets injured on a hunt and gets in idea have some fun with her favorite vampire.

_______

[marigoldbaker]

my top ten calendiles fics (that i wrote)

this rec list took me a solid chunk of time to compile, because my fics are my babies and i honestly wanna throw quite a few of them up here. but EVENTUALLY i stopped being indecisive and finally managed to get this sorted, so here goes! if you wanna read some of my stuff, this is the stuff that i am the most proud of/in love with/would cry if someone asked me leading questions about it + drew me fanart of it. these are not ranked except for the top two, because the first one is my baby and the second one is still very beloved to me.

under the cut, because i have loving commentary!

1. as day follows night (multi-chapter)

Looking for a safe place to stay after her accidental murder of the Deputy Mayor, Faith Lehane allies herself with a mysteriously powerful witch—and stumbles into a fairytale mystery that's bigger than anything she could have anticipated.

(this fic is my goddamn baby. this fic is my C H I L D. this fic is the fic that i took extensive notes for and spent most of my freshman year of college thinking about and ended up as this terrifying love letter to fairy tales and jenny calendar and the complexity of the way she chooses to love people. i love this fic with every fiber of my being and always will.)

2. i still want to be your girl (multi-chapter)

Five years ago, Jenny Calendar ran from Sunnydale and didn't come back. Now, with the First threatening Sunnydale and the Slayer line, she's returned to help stop the apocalypse--but Rupert Giles isn't the man she remembers, and he isn't exactly delighted to have her back in his life again.

(i have a very persistent soft spot for later-seasons giles, but this was one of the few fics where i went “okay but what about battle-hardened jenny” and i’m very proud of the result. it was really fun to think about what might have changed about jenny over the course of five years, and now that i’m thinking about it, i might be really interested in writing a giles pov of this fic at some point? that’s totally a concept to come back to at some point. anyway.)

3. kind of like hydrogen peroxide

Here was the problem: Ripper had no idea how to talk to Jenny without somehow managing to make her want to kill him.

(i do NOT deserve rights if a fic from the ripper au doesn’t make its way onto this list, and this one is my very favorite. i love thinking about dumb teenage giles who pretends to be a rebel but is actually very very soft and very very in love with his equally dumb and genuinely rebellious girlfriend.)

4. spirit-touched

“Thank you, Buffy,” Giles said, “but I would prefer to conduct this research on my own. I’ll be looking into some rather…” He felt himself blushing, and resented it. “Some rather intimate details of ghost-human relations.”

“What does that—oh god, you want to figure out how to have sex with Ms. Calendar,” said Buffy.

(making this the first smutfic i posted was still the most cursed power move i have ever pulled off. anyway that influx of asks in 2016 about ghost jenny and human giles and their sex life inspired this and it ended up being SO funny and SO sweet and i am SO proud of it.)

5. very really married

Giles and Jenny's flights to Sunnydale both stop over in Las Vegas. On the same day. Naturally, a chance encounter leads to a drunken marriage, one that they mutually agree to keep up for appearances.

Which is to say: Giles is going to have to figure out how to hide his fake marriage from his new Slayer (and everyone else) while also hiding his new Slayer from his fake wife (and everyone else). And his complex feelings for Jenny aren't helping anything.

(EVEN NOW, THIS FIC MAKES ME GIGGLE TO THINK ABOUT. i am saving my reread of this particular gem for a rainy day, because it was my love letter to season one and my daydreamy fantasy re: what it would look like if giles and jenny had silly odd-couple energy that really just came from them being fake married and badly hiding it as they fall very deeply in love.)

6. days in goodness spent

This feeling—whatever Giles is feeling—this is bone-deep. He’s never felt it before. He’s been in love before, he’s admired someone before, he’s respected someone before, but this feels like all of those three things held together by something else he can’t quite name. He searches, desperately, for the words that will tell Jenny this, but nothing that has been written can describe the way it feels to be held by her right now.

(In which Rupert Giles gets the chance to fall in love all the way, and it changes him just a little.)

(this one didn’t immediately come to mind when i was drawing up the list, but my brief rereads led me to conclude that it is an underappreciated gem! i’ve written a lot of different takes on giles and jenny’s relationship, but i particularly love calling giles out for idealizing jenny. also i like that this is more abstract than some of my other older pieces, where i really get into the nuts and bolts of wanting to depict Every Single Part of giles and jenny’s relationship trajectory. this one has more fun with the flow of the story.)

7. no one else could heal my pain

“Friday,” Giles echoed.

“Yeah. As an overnight weekend trip to hunt down some books I need.” Ms. Calendar smiled playfully at him. “Isn’t that the kind of thing you’d do for fun anyway?”

(this one was SO recent and SO fun! it’s kind of my love letter to the standalone longfics i consumed voraciously when i was fourteen, because there are some really great older calendiles fics that are just long and winding adventure-y narratives about the two of them goofing off and falling in love. i wanted to echo that here a little bit and it was a delight to write.)

8. myosotis latifolia

Years and years ago, the truth would spill out, and Rupert—in his endless romanticism—would take her hands and tell her she only needed him by her side to feel welcome and loved. But it’s been over a decade since they’ve been that close, and those years have created a distance between them just as insurmountable as the distance between them, now, on the steps leading into his lavish gardens.

(Rupert Giles is an esteemed member of the Watchers' Council, as well as a happily married father. Jenny Calendar knows that that's never been what he wanted.)

(ahaha this one is a big ouch moment but i really love it regardless? i think that giles and jenny are kinda fundamentally incompatible in a lot of ways, and part of the intrigue of their relationship is watching them try and figure out how to compromise and adjust after years of being rigid and inflexible individuals -- giles intellectually, jenny emotionally. so this fic is a lot about that.)

9. the grieving process

After Buffy's death, Giles makes his way to Jenny in LA.

(i don’t know why this one still sticks with me! it just! does! it holds up and i love it and if you wanna read about giles and jenny falling in love in a way that is healthy and authentic without any secrets -- but also obviously very sad -- definitely pick this one up.)

10. decently clothed

“Jenny, are you selecting my wardrobe based solely on what is and isn’t easy to divest me of?”

“…no,” said Jenny.

“That’s not even remotely convincing.”

(i wrote this one during a particularly difficult time in my life, and it was a really special moment for me, because i’d just come out of a period where it had been difficult for me to find the time or emotional energy to write. whenever i return to it, this fic is suffused in that warm and hopeful joy i felt when i posted it and realized that i had not, in fact, lost my touch. so it’s always gonna mean the world to me.

plus it is very silly and sweet! my specialties.)

[entomancy]

(Fic) Daywalkin’ in Vegas

...let’s be honest, this ‘short backstory fics’ thing has done what my writing tends to do, and Escalted.  So let’s escalate.

Title: Daywalkin’ in Vegas (Wattpad) Setting: Increasingly not even serial-numbers-off-VTM. VTM infact exists in-world as a gaming system, which really annoys Fancy Vampires. Warnings: Gore; depictions of violence/ death against a child. Words: 6537 Summary: A failed siring gets the attention of two very different parts of Vegas Below; and a young blooded nosferatu puts herself in the centre of a dangerous balance.

-

Beep.

Twenty-eight forty.

Beep.

Thirty-one seventy.

Beep.

Nox watched the till display tick up, comparing the total to her mental tally.   She had enough; she knew she did.  It might have been in tattered bills, tarnished coin rolls and bits of change so old they were chipped like gears around the edges, but she was always real careful to plan these trips down to the grubby dime.  In and out, as unobtrusive as possible.

Beep.

A final bag passed, the green-yellow numbers flickering one final time.  The cashier smiled in customer service plastic as she read out the total, then followed it with a look of awkward concern.

“That’s all for you?  We - er – we have some good specials,” she said hesitantly, nodding towards the little stack of brightly-labelled packages beside the register. It was mostly sweets and tampons, and Nox bit back on a grin at the sight. Nice thought, but that hadn’t been her ‘bloody’ problem for a while now.

“That’s it,” she replied, adding: “Thanks, though.”   Sure, it was an upsell, but a kind one. The girl even managed to keep back any disgust at the state of some of the cash; it had been cleaned up, but people didn’t tend to drop crisp ones into a cup on the sidewalk.

Nox carried everything out to the repurposed shopping cart that she’d left just inside the little bodega’s doors. The thing was unbalanced and took corners like a drunk, but it was better than playing pack mule herself. The new bags settled down on top of the day’s earlier buys: bulk discount batches of toilet roll, bleach and superglue, along with cheap fabric for bandages. Plus, now, thirty-eight dollars and eighty-six cents’ worth of the cheapest mince and frozen shrimp available within a four-mile radius.

There had been a time when she’d had to worry about dietary fibre. Or vitamins.

The cart’s wheels creaked and rasped on sidewalk dirt as she headed it away, hunching down over the handle as she pushed; partly for more control, mostly to keep her face in shade. Her battered baseball cap and hoodie did a pretty good job – accompanied by garish plastic sunglasses and a stained bike mask – but every little helped. It also added to the overall ‘bag lady out on an afternoon shuffle’ aesthetic she was going for. The trick was to inspire just enough awkward pity to be invisible, but not enough to be a target.

Apparently, her act was off today. She’d just turned a laborious corner, distracted by trying to keep the bags all stacked, when she felt a hand clamp down onto the top of her head and yank hard. She didn’t move, but the hood pulled away and she heard a yelp of disgust even before she swivelled around. Two young men stood behind her, gawking in revulsion at the revealed state of Nox’s scalp, in all its piebald, peeling, erratically-thickened glory. A thin braid slithered down her face, torn too-easily free along with the hood.

She gave the scene one more heartbeat to really settle in, before grinning widely. Faced with a mouthful of teeth like broken ivory, the youths managed to look even more horrified.

“Aye, that’s how I caught it too!” Nox cackled theatrically, before snatching the hat back from now-unresisting fingers and jamming it back into place. “Don’t go scratching yerself anywhere pretty fer a bit, eh?”

The lad – and his already-retreating backup – hesitated, then let out a string of bravado-born obscenities. Freak – gross – blah blah blah I-have-a-tiny-dick blah. He kicked at the cart as he started follow his friend, and Nox let just enough spill out to sate the petty spite.

Once they had gone, she picked up the packets again and began to fix her hood. The exposed skin was stinging and smarting already, a poison-ivy prickle that calamine wouldn’t touch. At least it was late enough in the afternoon that she probably wouldn’t blister from the exposure. More annoying was the missing chunk of hair, and she probed at it gingerly. No deep wound, thankfully; which probably meant that the straggly braid had been almost ready to fall out anyway. She tended to keep about half a head of hair going, on average; so it’d grow back.

The lads were long gone by the time she was ready to set off again. With any luck she’d be nothing more than an awkward moment in a day of shoving their weight around; quickly forgotten. Being gross in the eyes of idiots wasn’t a Breech, after all.

The rest of the trip back was uneventful. Streets gave way to alleys, sidewalks to cracked paving, to rotting asphalt, and even the graffiti began to wane as she got closer to home. The main occupants of this ass-end of nowhere – a ghetto’s dumpster of a place – didn’t exactly make it their business to advertise where they were. Those that needed to know; knew. Those that knew, generally didn’t care – which was honestly a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Nox had heard the stories of what it had been like only twenty years ago. It was strange to feel that there was any sort of luck to her history, but six years wasn’t twenty.

Reaching a gap in an otherwise unremarkable wall, she glanced around quickly, making sure that no one was watching. Then she straightened up, gripped either side of the overloaded cart, and hefted it up through the broken brickwork in one smooth movement. She vaulted in after it, dropping down into cool shade, and let out a sigh of relief as the accepting touch of Karloff’s Invitation washed across her. The sense was like a door opening in welcome; like taking the first familiar turn towards home after a long day’s drive. It also meant no more unwanted attention – without that explicit permission, you’d never be able to recognise the entrance, or even keep your attention on what you were looking for. She was as invisible now to all other turned-aside eyes as everything else within the Invitation’s borders.

A few more rattling corners later, Nox finally turned into the Homestead grounds. The whole area had once been a crammed-in mess of squat apartment blocks, copy-paste civic solutions built without charm to fill the need for cheap rooms. The Homestead was the only one of its kin still standing, now surrounded by an opened-out area of recent amateur demolition and scrap-built fencing. Bright splashes of street art cut across sagging concrete and the blacked-out eyes of the windows, although the tags and themes chosen indicated the difference between these creators and the more standard ones of the world outside. Most of this had been painted at night, for example, with rather more variety on the theme of ‘hands’ grasping the tins.

There was a lot more inside, and below, but she felt a particular warmth at these murals. Out here, on the surface. Bright in sunshine that most of them could never see. The Nosferatu might be Vegas Below’s crusty little secret, but they were damn well there.

Bits of cracked paving clicked and skittered beneath the cart’s wheels as Nox made her way through the fences and to the big, bolted main doors. There was a rough porch built around the frame, mostly to give extra shadows, and she looked up at the tiny glints of watchful glass sunk into the surrounding wall. She waved.

“Dimestore-Blade’s grocery delivery,” she announced, and listened to the familiar rattle of bolts start on the other side of the door. A few moments later it swung open and a hunched figure peered out, wincing back from even the thick porch shade. This was Max; an older woman than Nox in both kinds of age, who managed her marks via a combination of extensive bandaging and even more extensive needlepoint. Watery black eyes looked past her, squinting through a gap in the heavily-embroidered scarf wrapped around her head.

“All okay?”

Nox nodded and lifted the trolley over the threshold.

“Fine.” She didn’t mention the youths. Didn’t seem a lot of point. “Let’s get this lot into the freezer before it can walk on its own, yeah?”

Safely inside the slightly-fetid gloom of the entrance, Nox took the opportunity shed her bag-lady layers. True, she couldn’t actually overheat, even on a Nevada afternoon, but being swathed in that many layers was still claustrophobic. Beneath the mismatched fabric strata was an increasingly-threadbare pair of yoga pants and a dark vest, and Nox gave a small sigh of relief as she folded up the rest of her daylight-drag, shoving it onto a shelf nearby.

“Right,” she muttered, as much to fill the air as anything else, and turned back to the trolley. Max had already transferred much of it into precarious piles in her own arms. Her scarf had slipped down, revealing a hairless head webbed with splitting skin; much of it made whole again with patterned patches of colourful thread. The fabric discoloured over time, of course, but it reduced the leaking.

Balancing their burdens, the pair made their way further into the Homestead. Closest to the entrance was the most decrepit part, occupied mostly by shelves and old furniture crammed full of clothes and patched umbrellas for venturing out, and with years of dumped debris building up in corners. Rooms with windows – even those as thoroughly blacked out or bricked up as these were – mostly housed the rat runs or storage, because no one wanted to spend a lot of time somewhere where crap mortar could result in dayburns. Similarly, the roof and most of the top floor was given over to pigeon roosts and No avoided them whenever possible. She’d never much liked pigeons before this, and she still held that even their vitae tasted of garbage, somehow. Still, they were much dumber than rats, and they did lay eggs, so that helped.

The really lived-in part of the Homestead was underground. Everybody knew Nosferatu lived in the sewers, right?  Okay, so Nox would admit she hadn’t much understood the difference between ‘sewer’ and ‘storm drain’ before her life had taken its scabby turn, but she sure did now. Vegas had extensive storm drains – large concrete tunnels that lay under much of the city, designed to quickly shift heavy rain away from the tarmacked surface above – and they were ideal: underground, dark, not monitored.

And not actually full of shit.

The arrangement used to be… messier, Karloff had told her. When they hadn’t been so organised; when they’d lived closer together with others who had slipped through the cracks Above. Some of the Family had started off as those same ‘unfortunates’ after all; those who were aftermath-sired in a broken frenzy, or from the bloody jaunt of some fuckfang cutting through the ranks of those who wouldn’t be missed. Splitting their claimed tunnels off from the main circuit and establishing the Homestead proper had happened later, after the Vegas Accord had given the Nosferatu a Clan-status, and hunting them for sport stopped being an acceptable weekend activity.

Six years sure ain’t twenty.

Max chatted away as they walked; an idle litany of gossip, social media tidbits and reports from watchers all over the city, woven together into what Nox tended to think of as ‘Radio Max’. Spying on people was apparently another nos stereotype; but honestly when you didn’t really sleep, were functionally invisible to large portions of society, and had worked out how to divert half-decent broadband from badly-secured leisure networks overhead, it wasn’t difficult to get ahead on current events.

Plus the rats, of course. 

Information was power, and they had precious little of any other. Although Nox sometimes wondered how much of those scant threads of power that Karloff put such value on would diminish if Clanpires in general figured out how to just Google things.

They had reached what she thought of as ‘mainstreet’ of the Homestead tunnels – a long space with concrete pillars linking floor to ceiling every thirty feet or so, quite cheerfully lit by a mishmash web of light fittings rigged up overhead – when yelling broke out further down. Nox and Max shared a look of alarm at the commotion, but it was when her name became suddenly clear in the shouts that Nox’s stomach dropped.

“Get this stuff away, will you?” she muttered, carefully setting her packages down beside Max, and turned to meet the oncoming figures. Even wrapped in a heavy coat and thick gloves, she knew the loping form of Skaad instantly.

With features which sagged so violently that his bruise-yellow skin frequently tore at the edges, and a mouth like a lipless sharps bucket, Skaad was nonetheless gifted with some of the keenest senses in the clan, plus a damn-near eidetic memory. Which meant he spent most of his time skulking in hidden places, listening to things he shouldn’t, and following people who thought they were alone in their secret business. Having him sprinting towards you, so fast his eyelids were visibly flapping, wasn’t a great sign.

Back in the world Above – before her life had gone to hell in a weirdly specific way – Nox had been a paramedic. It was useful in the day-to-day, being the closest thing this bunch of ragged immortals had to a resident doctor, but there was only really one sort of actual emergency left down here.

Skaad skidded to a halt, and grabbed her arm with a worrying urgency.

“Got a phresh one. Get yer kit!”

Fuck. A fresh one meant one thing: someone had found a dumped fledgeling, one who’d been showing signs of the Change going wrong and been tossed aside by their disgusted sire. Intervening quickly could help, particularly getting a pigeon smoothie down them fast, but the panic on Skaad’s drooping face didn’t line up with -

“What’s so – ?” she started, but he shook his head, steering her towards the plastic-covered tunnel they used as a makeshift clinic. He leaned in to shove her again, but lowered his voice and muttered just before he did – and the words sent ice down her spine.

“It’sh a kid.”

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

-

You didn’t turn kids.

When your working knowledge of vampires had been a general pop-culture miasma and some blurry memories of teenage Buffy marathons, finding yourself on the other side of the supernatural coin came as a shock in various ways. One of which was the weird sensation that you should have studied it all harder, somehow. Nox had certainly felt stupid, in her early days, as a man with a face like a charred wasps’ nest listened to her stutter her way through half-remembered fiction and worse-remembered reality. But she’d apparently got a few things right, and somewhere in that muddle had been the idea that you shouldn’t turn kids.

There were all kinds of theories as to why – from the debauched to the practical – but she found that in many ways it didn’t matter. Whatever fucked-up intention you had, it wouldn’t work. Too young just… didn’t take. And when a siring didn’t work, there was every chance the result would end up on her table.

She scrabbled through the assortment of old drawers and boxes that stored her gear, pulling out anything she thought might work. Bandages, thread, craft superglue, repurposed bottles of hard spirits that would do in a pinch for sterilising. The best-case scenario things. And the rest. Old herb pots of fine powders; thrift-store silver cutlery hammered and polished and changed into a very different set of tools. Sharpie-labelled bottles of liquids that moved weirdly in the light, and a range of refillable lighters that definitely didn’t contain hydrocarbons anymore. All the things she’d picked up in the last six years that fitted in with other sort of medicine.

The plastic curtain behind her was yanked back and a sound she had been trying not to hear finally demanded her attention. It wasn’t even a scream, and Nox hated, hated hated hated that she recognised the cadence there perfectly: raw, animal agony of sound torn from a throat that was violently reforming around it. She turned to see Skaad forcing flailing limbs down, looping thick restraints around rippling flesh, and finally allowed her full attention to turn down to the spasming form.

Gore looked different through vampire eyes. It was hard to describe exactly how – partly because wordsmithery had never been one of her strong points, but more because trying to compare feelings from now and then was always going to have a huge fucking hurdle of shifted species in the way. She’d still probably seen more human blood in nine years on the ambulances than during the half-dozen in and out of Vegas’ shadows, and but everything afterwards had been… different. Displaced. Detached. Just didn’t seem as visceral as it used to do.

But this did.

Acid tightened in Nox’s throat as she stared down at the shuddering mess in front of her. Blanched skin bubbled and writhed, tearing as it pulled away from the muscles beneath; themselves little more than contorting ropes of livid tissue that pulsed under dying heartbeats and spilled black fluid from ever-widening rents. The throat was gone, now a bubbling pit of desperate breaths, sucked past exposed tendons that wriggled like furious worms. Half-clotted ichor was pooling from gashes along the arms, down the stomach and further: the marks of peri-sire wounds, those that had been still fresh as the invading blood forced itself into collapsing veins. The eyes were side-to-side a sickly crimson-yellow, bloating out from a face that was collapsing in on itself, and throughout it all, the kid screamed.

It was revolting. Nox had to bite down on the vicious spikes of fight-flight that were going off in her mind, so violently she could feel her hands trembling from the horror and her disgust at her own reaction. It was an instinct, an unbidden response to a failing siring – she knew that – but understanding it didn’t make it easier. Everyone down here had ‘gone nozz’ during their own Turn. Hell, a few of those brought to her were walking around now, not seeming any weirder than any of them, but she’d still felt that awful surge of fundamental wrongness about them before they stabilised.

Nox gritted – all of – her teeth, and slammed her kit down on the table.

Instincts can fucking blow me.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

-

It turned out what they could do, wasn’t much. Cleaning, sewing, cutting, sealing – nothing held. Stitches fell from uncertain skin, or tore great new holes as fresh spasms pulled at the edges. Wet rags soon littered the floor, sodden with black and yellow fluids that turned the rough concrete into a slippery, stinking mess. The bleeding wasn’t slowing, even as the body seemed to be crumpling in on itself, gradually liquefying around the bones.

The sound had gone quieter, if not softer, and Nox didn’t have much hope it would stop soon. It might be days yet, before the final sparks of vitae or life or cruel continuation finally went out.

Too young. The kid – the girl, most likely, going by anatomy – had been just… too young.

They had to have known that.

“I’m outa tricks,” she said, although the words felt thick and sharp in her mouth. She wanted to keep going. She wanted to, so fucking much. But somebody had done this. Somebody who knew this would happen.

“I’m gonna make her comfy,” she continued, then hesitated even as she pulled out the frankly-horrific cocktail of morphine and street drugs that might make a dent in a system caught somewhere between undead and alive. Skaad looked at her, and held out a clawed hand.

“Want me…?”

“Nah.” Nox shook her head, and swallowed. “You can get the others outta upstairs, though. I need to – to make a call.”

Skaad stiffened, his jaundiced eyes flicking between her and the table for a moment, before he let out a low hiss and ducked away through the curtain. Nox administered the mix and tried to convince herself it would have any sort of palliative effect. Then she went back to the drawers and rummaged again, right at the back, until her fingers closed on the ridged plastic of an old nokia.

There weren’t many numbers in the phone, but it was the first one she selected, under B.

- SUMFCK SIRED KID. ITS BAD -

She threw the phone back into the drawer and hurried out, past the plastic sheet and into the tunnels, leaving sticky footprints in her wake. Not a great look, but everyone would already know what was happening. Nosferatu gossiped like – well, like a society of insomniac, semi-immortal shut-ins.

Overhead, an erratic cluster of repurposed pipes trailed down through the domed roof, emanating from the rat runs above. Drainpipes, corrugated plastic, bits of plumbing, and all of them shaking slightly with the constant pass of tiny feet within. They opened out onto tiny highways of shelving that lined the walls, all heading in the same direction as she was. Pairs of black-beady eyes glanced at her as they passed, and with so many concentrated here, she could feel the faintest flick of Attention in each one. They were all headed to a squat metal door at the end of an offshoot passageway. The rats passed freely back and forth narrow holes punched in either side of the door; but Nox knocked. She knew she was already expected and entered after a respectful moment.

Karloff’s chamber was bigger than it looked like it would be from the doorway. Nox wasn’t sure what the space had originally been – some kind of maintenance room? – but it was now dark, and warm, and smelled less of rats than might be expected given the constant rodent tide. Shelves lined the walls, full of books and occasional pieces of recycled pet furniture. One floor-ceiling tower was filled entirely with old radios, police scanners, walkie talkies and the like.

The old man himself lay where he usually did, propped up in a nest of pillows and blankets in a box-like bed in the centre of the room. He presented an impossibly gaunt figure: papery-brown skin layered like peeling paint across sharp bones, with eyes so thickly clouded they sat like grey-milk marbles in unclosing sockets. His face looked scorched, blackened at the edges of the old dry wounds that had taken his nose, torn away most of his lips, and presumably shattered the broken fangs that jutted from his mouth. There was – as usual – a huge white rat lazing across his chest, nearly the size of a terrier and wearing a dark silken ribbon, and its sharp crimson eyes fixed on Nox as she entered.

She bowed her head, and tried not to leave bloody footprints on the rug.

“I need a temporary Invitation,” she said. It was blunt, but there was no point in dancing around it. He’d already know anyway. As she spoke, the huge rat sat up. It’s pale paws were clasped in front of it, folded in a strangely human-like gesture, but Karloff himself turned his head only slightly.

“’Belton,” he said softly, in the throat-based hush of his voice, and Nox nodded. Her fingers twitched into fists, and she felt the sticky remnants of gore slide between them.

“I… I’m running out of options, and she – ” the words were sticker than her fingers, getting caught on her lips “ – she’s real bad.”

The rat cocked its head and Karloff drew a slow breath.

“You will not do it?” he asked. Nox’ throat tightened.

“If I gotta. But I want him to see her, cos I – I could do this, but I ain’t got a snowball’s chance of doing anything about it.”

Karloff’s head turned further, and the clouded eyes passed over her with an intensity that Nox could feel, as if they skipped sight entirely and went right into her heart instead. There was another stretched moment of silence, then the pressure dropped and the rat turned away, curling itself neatly under its master’s chin.

“It is done,” Karloff said. The long fingers on one hand twitched slightly, and the faintest hint of a frown dug into his face. “...take care with the old death. You have seen little of him.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you,” Nox added before she headed out again; first to check that the cocktail of drugs had at least calmed the kid’s screams, then back into the upper house. A few rats followed her as she slid into the squeaking, busy dimness of the runs to use the sink that still stood in one corner, using brownish water to at least scrub some of the stains from her hands. Then she set to wait, pacing with nervous energy.

No one joined her. By now, everybody would know what was happening, and no one wanted to be around when he came calling.

The problem – okay, so one of the problems, in a dreadful, tangled ball of ever-more layered problems – was that it was very, very difficult to kill a fledgeling in any way that could be considered humane. A body already in the process of tearing itself apart was resistant to most damage for the same reasons that you couldn’t punch a fog. Getting any kind of drug to land in an even-partly vampiric system was difficult enough at the best of times, and this…

Well, there was sunlight, but everything about Nox’s very being baulked at the idea of using that method. She knew with personal, hellish intimacy that the agony from that would get through even a Change. Torturing someone to death with one of the few things worse than what they were going through was really not the point.

Plus, there was a tiny, tiny part of her mind that hoped she was wrong. She’d only been dealing with this stuff for a handful of years, and while rumours varied widely about how old Belton actually was, he’d seen a lot of shit. Maybe she’d missed something. Just maybe…

It seemed to take an eternity before the roar of an engine outside broke through Nox’ whirling thoughts. She hurried to the door, took a careful breath, and peered out through the little viewing slot. Not that anyone else would have been able to ride a motorcycle up to the Homestead without the permission of Karloff’s Invitation, but it never hurt to keep caution.

A huge bike was settled just beside the front steps. It was black, but in the way a magpie’s wings were black, with oil-slick iridescence hinting around the edges. The rider – dressed to match, in that seamless continuity of clothing that Nox had started to think of as ‘vampire sunscreen’ – had already dismounted and was stood beside his bike, the raven-sheen of his helmet turned towards the door. There was no visible gaze to meet, but the weight of his attention was like ice down her spine, and she opened the door as deliberately as she could.

“She’s downstairs,” she said, as the figure came up the steps. The sun was already going down, barely spilling dying light over the surrounding wall of buildings, and the porch shadow was very deep there. It only got deeper as the big man stepped into it – and then paused, right on the edge of the frame.

“May I enter?” His voice was never as heavy as she expected, with a melodic edge that absolutely did not match what she knew lay under that helmet. Nox rolled her eyes.

“I texted you, and you’re here, right?”

He was always so… old fashioned about this. It wasn’t like it was a general requirement. Nox stepped back, gesturing inwards.

“Come in already,” she added. The man might have been big – although ‘fucking enormous’ would be a better description, needing to visibly turn and duck to get through the doorframe – but he moved deceptively fast, and was well inside the hallway, starting to remove his helmet before she had had time to shut the door. She turned to look, not even pretending not to stare as he unclipped all the security bits and lifted it smoothly free. The dramatic effect was only slightly spoiled by the oddly-bulging balaclava he had on underneath – but Nox supposed that if her ears could meet at the back, she’d want to keep them restrained inside a helmet too.

Belton looked… well, he looked like Belton. There just plain wasn’t anyone else like that. The best description she had ever been able to come up with was that he looked like someone had tried very hard to make a bat in the character creation screen of a pro-wrestling computer game. It was as if the underlying architecture that should have made a human skull had been stretched and tweaked and twisted into something approaching Chiroptera from the other side.

It probably said something worrying about her own psyche that – somewhere in the mess of emotions that Belton inspired – a part of her really, really wanted to see an xray of his head.

No time for this.

“C’mon,” she nodded him to follow her back down the Homestead’s passageways. The rats watched them from every surface; their skittering highways unusually still as the majority of glinting little eyes were fixed on the visitor. They were the only visible watchers, and Nox tried not to notice how empty every space they passed through was. It added another level of eeriness, with the just-abandoned debris of life seeming like some extremely localised Rapture. Even Nox’ rapid explanation of the situation fell muted around them; for his part, Belton just listened and nodded every now and then. He didn’t look around.

How familiar was he, with this place?  He’d come a few times since she’d been here – and of course, that first time meant he’d sure known where it was. Nox’ gaze slid sideways. Belton had removed his gloves by now, and the hands revealed couldn’t even remotely be thought of as human; the fingers were too long, bone and tendons standing stark beneath mottled grey skin; capped by black claws that curled from the nailbeds, polished to an obsidian gleam.

How many times had those hands run across the outer walls of the Homestead; at Karloff’s limits; searching for a way in?  How many times had those claws torn into sagging flesh, or crushed furry watchers into broken blindness?

How many times had he come before he had brought her here; a crispy mess of fledgeling coated in sand and gravel and gore, spat out by the desert and into hands that immortals feared…?

The plastic curtain seemed to rise up like an exclamation, a cold shot of right now breaking her thoughts, and Nox came to a sharp halt. There was still sound from inside: a bubbling, slurred collage of moans that had made it past the drugs, and her hand froze halfway to the curtain. The swell of renewed, visceral revulsion felt like she’d choke on her own fucking hypocrisy, and she couldn’t suppress a slight hiss.

“It’s – ” she started, through gritted teeth, but cut out as Belton gently touched her shoulder.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Nox’ fingers twitched, then she turned away, moving until she could lean heavily against the nearest concrete pillar and rested her forehead against the pitted surface. The groan might as well have been coming out of the air. It pressed down around her and her skin crawled.

She hated this, and she hated that she hated it like this. Some depraved motherfucker had dragged a fucking child into very literal hell and she’d tried, she’d tried with every stupid, macguivered bullshit tool she’d put together out of garbage; she’d tried everything and it was never going to have meant a damn thing and all she could focus on, really really focus on right now was how fundamentally disgusting that fucking sound was –

And then it stopped.

Nox physically sagged against the pillar, relief and nausea chasing each other through a stomach that was dropping into her boots. There was only one reason for the sudden silence, and she let her eyes slide closed, muttering the same half-wordless prayer she’d always used when a case went bad, or a patient flatlined in the ambulance. Whatever that meant now, she’d never been sure, but it still sort of fit.

She’d known. She’d known when she picked up that damn phone.

But fuck me if hope isn’t a bitch.

It wasn’t long before there was the faint brush of plastic again and Nox opened her eyes to see Belton smoothing the curtain back behind him, covering the sudden stillness. There was a long moment of silence before he turned to her. His eyes were the most human-looking part of his face, and the grey gaze sought hers.

“I’ll be on my way, then.”

Nox nodded numbly. They went out the way they came; still alone, still watched at every step by a hundred rodent stares. Back up, back to the door and out into the thickening dusk of the evening – and it wasn’t until the porch steps were creaking under his boots that Nox’s nerve rose again.

“Hey – Belton?” she managed, and the big figure paused. He looked back at her and one curled brow raised, moving an ear with it. Nox pulled the Homestead door shut behind her as she sought the right words. “This… ain’t your job, right?”

“I don’t have a real tight specification,” he replied, then shrugged. “But broadly?  No. To be honest with you, my boss couldn’t give a rat’s twat what happens with the Nosferatu.”

“So why’d you come?” Those words came fast, but Nox didn’t try to stop them. Belton paused again, then hung his helmet and balaclava over the big bike’s handlebars. He sat down on the steps, hunching a little in that strange shape his back took when he wasn’t standing, and Nox slid down beside him at the unspoken invitation.

Belton shook his head, what might have been a wry smile tugging at the edges of his too-wide lips. Glints of needle teeth flashed in the dusk.

“It’s a question of perspective, see,” he said quietly. “For someone like you?  This’ll ruin your whole year. Getting all Lady Macbeth with the inevitable. But for me?” He held up a hand and slowly flexed the clawed fingers. Once; twice; and Nox couldn’t draw her gaze away from the mottled skin as it shifted over his bones. Belton sighed. It was an old sound, so old that any hint of what it might contain had worn away like stone under rain.

“What’s one drop in an ocean?  Don’t get me wrong – ” he added, with the edge of smile falling away again “ – I’ll feel bad about it; but I’m not losing myself any sleep.”

She should have been angry. She wanted to be angry, at the casual way this bat-faced bastard just said it; as the so-recent feel of the kid’s crumbling flesh slammed against her thoughts and ghosted under her fingers, and bile she wasn’t even sure she had anymore swirled at the back of her throat. She should be angry.

“...thank you.”

“No need for that,” he replied – but Nox shook her head.

“Nah; there is. Things need saying.” She fidgeted with the hem of her pants for a silent moment, before continuing. “Don’t believe you actually sleep, though.”

This time there was no mistaking that Belton grinned; and the resulting expression was exactly as unpleasant as it sounded.

“No?  Not even if I say I’ve got little bats on my pyjamas?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Now that there’s uncalled for.”

Nox grinned, and even as she did she could almost hear Karloff’s voice in her head. Be wary of the old death. 

And yet…

There was another long silence, although this one felt less tense.

…fuck it. When am I gonna get this chance again?

“They found her in the desert,” she said carefully, scuffing dust across the steps with one toe as she spoke; an idle motion to distract herself from the nerves inside. Belton nodded.

“Aye. Letting lady sun do the dirty work. It’s an almost foolproof method, really.”

Nox looked down at her own hands; where the patchwork of thickened tissue traced patterns like dry riverbeds over her pallid brown skin. The sun burned bits went blistered red, then dark and crackly, then sickly pale when that peeled; slowly edging back to her default. It sure as hell wasn’t pleasant; but it wasn’t the chemical-melting collapse of flesh that she’d seen on others.

“So, that make me a fool or an outlier?”

“I said almost.” Belton leaned back a little, looking up into the dark expanse of sky. “Always going to take a risk when you don’t stay to watch. Although I’ll admit it takes some big balls to stick around for that sort of disposal. What with the deeply ingrained phytophobia of your classic vampire, and everything.”

Nox raised her most intact eyebrow.

“This is more about your junk than I want to know.”

Belton laughed. Really laughed; the kind of melodic tone that bordered on a snatch of song and that was so very out of place coming from within that face.

“Oh, I’m not claiming that kind of testicular fortitude. Sunlight scares the piss out of me as much as it ever did. Don’t think it’s the kind of thing you can get over. Built-in, you know?”

“You ride about in the day,” Nox pointed out, and Belton waved a hand back towards his helmet.

“I’ve got some really bespoke protective gear, see. Amazing what’s been done with polymers in the last thirty years.”

Nox blinked.

“…you’ve got bike pleathers?”

“Technically I’ve got an integrated neo-polymer baselayer,” Belton stopped and his nose crinkled – which was quite an extensive expression. “…ah fuck, that sounds like I’ve got plastic pants, doesn’t it?  Keep that one to yourself, will you?”

“Sure.” Nox’s shoulders sagged again as reality dropped back suddenly. She decided to just go for blunt. “With… the kid. Someone did that, and before that they – ” her words choked again, at the thought of where some of those peri-sire wounds had been.

“I know.” The amusement had gone from Belton’s voice as he stood up, heading back to his bike rather abruptly. The engine roared into life as he swung himself astride it, folding his ears into their cover, and Nox had to shout to be heard above the rumble.

“Do they… just get away with this?”

“There’s plenty that think they should,” he replied calmly; oddly easy to hear over the din, as he slid the helmet into place. “It was like that for a long time.”

Nox’s lips drew back, almost of their own accord, working to some defiant instinct she only had partial control over.

“And you?”

“Me?  I’m a monster on a chain that I put there.” Belton looked up, and just before the visor snapped closed, there was a flicker of crimson in his eyes.

“But I’ll see what I can do.”

-

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, December 14

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Prince William’s secret cancer crisis

Page 2: Chris Martin is caught between girlfriend Dakota Johnson and ex-wife Gwyneth Paltrow who are both hawking sex toys -- Gwyneth is accusing Dakota of copying her Goop brand and she’s letting Chris know it loud and clear -- Dakota signed on as co-creative director with the sexual wellness brand Maude to launch a line of hip sex products and Dakota’s gotten wind of Gwyn’s whining and thinks she’s being ridiculous -- Chris is proud of Dakota and he feels for Gwyneth but he really wants to be left out of this 

Page 3: Martha Stewart has whipped up a new recipe for romance which is red-hot dates with a string of men ordered up online and she may be 79 years old but she’s still cooking with gas in the dating department -- Martha’s getting more dates now than she ever has and she’s saying it makes her feel younger and hotter than ever but all the guys know the deal that there’s no pressure and no commitment and it’s just for the fun and the good company because Martha’s not looking for a relationship 

Page 4: Just weeks after Blake Shelton popped the question to longtime love Gwen Stefani they have something else to celebrate as Gwen is expecting a miracle baby at 51 -- after years of trying and failing to have a child together new photos show Gwen sporting what looks like a telltale baby bump -- after years of enduring grueling rounds of IVF treatment without any success Gwen had given up hope of being able to conceive again and she and Blake even looked into adopting but their baby dream has come true naturally 

* Reba McEntire’s romance with actor Rex Linn is less than a year old but she’s already driving him crazy -- it was wonderful for the first few months but Reba is so controlling Rex is begging her to give him some space -- Reba wants to be together 24/7 and while Rex loves being with her he’s starting to find her a bit suffocating -- Reba also sees red whenever Rex mentions his former fiancee Renee DeRese and she’s worried Rex is talking to his ex when he’s not around and he has a good relationship with his ex and believes that’s none of Reba’s business 

Page 5: Britney Spears lost her bid to have her father Jamie Spears removed from a controlling role in her conservatorship so she’s spending whatever money she can get her hands on to exact her revenge -- Britney is worth about $60 million and she gets a very healthy stipend from that so she’s going through it like water to thumb her nose at her dad and her recent no-holds-barred trip to Maui to celebrate her 39th birthday was more than a little payback because dropping $50,000 on a birthday trip to Hawaii was a satisfying slap in the face to her dad 

Page 6: Matthew McConaughey is taking his midlife crisis to an all-time high by planning to do a stand-up comedy tour -- after baring his soul in a memoir the 51-year-old star is totally gung-ho about the comedy thing and he’s cleared his schedule and hired a coach to work on his timing and punch up his jokes -- he’s written a lot of jokes and tried them out on his wife Camila and friends but they’re already tired of his cheesy one-liners and dad jokes and fart gags -- Camila wants to be supportive but she can’t fake it and friends wonder if Matthew’s lost the plot and others claim he might get more inspiration is he took up smoking weed again 

Page 7: Grieving Bobby Brown worries he’s cursed after the tragic death of his 28-year-old son Bobby Brown Jr. -- his son’s death follows the deaths of his ex-wife Whitney Houston in 2012 and the couple’s 22-year-old daughter Bobbi Kristina Brown in 2015 -- Bobby has suffered through so much pain in his life and it’s left him feeling like he’s cursed and he’s a loving father who always does the best he can and what’s right for his kids but there seems to be no escaping tragedy -- no foul play is expected in the death of Bobby Jr. but the coroner has yes to release the cause of death but Bobby Jr. seemed fit and healthy and had never been a drug user and was excited about a singing career after releasing his first single in September

* Donny Osmond is heading back to the Vegas strip to do a one-man show without his sister Marie Osmond and she’s fuming over the betrayal -- Marie is still smarting after getting dumped by The Talk and she thinks Donny could have been sensitive enough to at least invite her to join him -- Marie’s jealous co-stars on The Talk drove her off the daytime chat show because they couldn’t handle being overshadowed by her -- Donny will debut his new solo show at Harrah’s in August 

Page 8: Doting Dolly Parton swooped in to save goddaughter Miley Cyrus from a meltdown after Miley trashed her sobriety during a boozy bender -- Miley has been on the wagon for six months after years of indulging in weed and alcohol but the boredom of lockdown pushed her over the edge -- Dolly has been a source of inspiration and strength to Miley during this difficult time and she’s never lectured Miley about her lifestyle only shown her unconditional love and understanding and that’s what Miley’s responded to 

Page 9: Lady Gaga hopes to tango with Brad Pitt and they’re close to making a love connection -- the two have been in deep talks about working on a big-screen thriller and the conversations have turned up close and personal because the two have more in common than people realize -- Brad has always been a huge music nerd and Gaga wants to throw herself into movies in a big way after the success of A Star Is Born -- Gaga is ready to cash out of her latest relationship with businessman Michael Polansky because they quarantined together and things got a little too close for her tastes and she’s now set her sights on Brad who recently became unattached after giving the brush-off to German model Nicole Poturalski -- Gaga’s interest in Brad has not gone unreciprocated because Brad is fascinated by Gaga saying she’s cool and talented beyond words and he’s made it clear she’s his number one choice to star alongside him in next movie and as a result the new duo is set to spend months together in Japan filming the racy thriller Bullet Train and they both think that this will be a great opportunity to see if the chemistry they’ve shared in conversations is real 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Julia Garner filmed her role as a phony heiress in Inventing Anna in NYC, Gary Busey picked up a copy of the National Enquirer at a Malibu newsstand, Jay-Z tossed around a football with pals during a Hawaiian getaway, Heidi Klum shot Germany’s Next Top Model in Berlin 

Page 11: In the latest tragedy to strike the Getty dynasty 52-year-old John Gilbert Getty was found dead in a Texas hotel room -- he was a descendant of J. Paul Getty the oil tycoon who was once the world’s richest man -- the Getty fortune is worth an estimated $5 billion but the family has been rocked by a string of tragedies 

* Gutsy Black Panther star Chadwick Boseman kept his colon cancer diagnosis secret from his own brothers Derrick L. Boseman who is a pastor in Murfreesboro in Tennessee -- but when Derrick called Chadwick to congratulate him on his career the actor broke the tragic news -- Chadwick’s last words to him still echo in his heart: Chadwick said, “I’m in the fourth quarter and I need you to get me out of the game,” which Derrick understood to mean it was time for him to go -- Chadwick died on August 28 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- the scrawny look of the holiday tree at Rockefeller Center revealed something that happens every year -- the tree is always filled with faux branches because that’s the only way the tree can sustain 50,000 LED lights

* Marie Osmond hasn’t spoken to Sharon Osbourne since she left The Talk because Marie and Sharon were professional but never friends

* Scarlett Johansson is worth $165 million while her new husband Colin Jost tops out a $6 million but despite the difference Colin bought both wedding rings -- some men may be intimidated by a wife who’s rich and famous but not Colin and paying the bills is something the two have worked out together

* Woody Harrelson chats with police after a day filming The Man from Toronto in Ontario (picture) 

Page 13: Conan O’Brien is putting on a happy face on his retirement from late-night TV but he was forced out -- after nearly three decades hosting a daily show Conan announced he’s leaving his TBS talker for a weekly variety series on HBO Max but he knew he had to go even before he was asked because he was made aware months ago that his show would not be renewed because the ratings weren’t great and the network was looking to replace him so he started looking for other opportunities 

* Lizzo wailing about the pitfalls of fame in an emotional TikTok post has sent out the alarm among her friends who fear she is days away from a full-on meltdown -- she seems to be hanging by a thread and is trying to numb the pain with endless cycles of comfort eating and she already weighs 350 pounds -- Lizzo’s unhappy with her weight and hates the sight of herself when she looks in the mirror but she’s unable to stick to a diet and ends up binge eating through the night 

Page 14: Crime 

Page 15: Emboldened by his legal victories last year accused sexual abuser Kevin Spacey is denying all the allegations in a 2020 lawsuit in New York against him and demanding the case be brought to trial so he can clear his name -- Kevin is feeling pretty confident after two sexual harassment cases against him in Los Angeles and Massachusetts were dismissed last year and he wants his day in court to prove he is not the monster these charges paint him to be -- in the September suit two male accusers charged Spacey sexually assaulted them when they were 14 and the first accuser alleged Spacey assaulted him on multiple occasions after they met in an acting class in the ‘80s -- in the same suit actor Anthony Rapp charged Spacey invited him to a party at his home and grabbed his buttocks and lifted him onto a bed and lay on top of him

* Serial killer Ted Bundy relived the details of one of his horrific killings in his final conversation before he was fried in the electric chair in 1989 -- Bundy who was convicted of killing 30 women and suspected of doing the same to many more across four states in the 1970s and ‘80s spilled his guts to a psychologist just hours before his execution death and it can be heard in its frightening entirety on the Crimedoor app -- Bundy details the murder of Georgann Hawkins 

Page 16: Accused Jeffrey Epstein madam Ghislaine Maxwell is under quarantine in a federal pen after being exposed to a guard with COVID-19 and now sources fear she could die before facing justice on child sex trafficking charges next year 

Page 17: Prince William and Duchess Kate Middleton’s kids are devastated after their best friend Lupo the family dog passed away -- the beloved dog had become a fixture in family photos but sadly died at age nine leaving Prince Louis and Princess Charlotte and especially Prince George enormously upset -- for George especially this is a tremendous upset as Lupo was his best friend and he has been there his entire life and this is his first experience with loss and he’s been crying nonstop and asking where Lupo is now 

Page 18: American Life 

Page 19: Russia is using a brain-frying microwave weapon to target American envoys in the U.S. and around the world -- a team of doctors and scientists at CIA headquarters determined the mysterious illness that’s plagued embassy workers in recent years was the handiwork of a weapon that can send a mind-scrambling sonic beam through windows and walls from two miles away -- since 2018 the weapon has zapped 26 diplomats in Cuba who reported suffering from migraines and ringing in the ears and dizziness and vertigo -- Some has longer-term effects such as fatigue and loss of vision and difficulty sleeping symptoms dubbed the Havana Syndrome 

* Elon Musk is already designing posh planetary digs for residents of his future city on Mars and he said the first million Earthlings to arrive will live in glass domes -- Musk’s outer-space enterprise is still a little sketchy on details of how to ship a million people to Mars by 2050 and change the atmosphere by terraforming or planting the right stuff to create oxygen 

Page 21: American Pie singer Don McLean’s daughter has blasted him as a verbally abusive tyrant who left her with deep psychological scars -- Jackie McLean claimed her father insulted and degraded her and forbade her from following in his musical footsteps and even threatened to exclude her from his $50 million fortune if she spoke out against him -- despite her dad’s warning Jackie has embarked on a musical career with her husband Shawn Strack forming the group Roan Yellowthorpe

Page 22: Hey, Big Spender! Hollywood’s tippers and tightwads -- Jessica Simpson, Mick Jagger, Rachael Ray, Taylor Swift 

Page 23: Russell Crowe, Donnie Wahlberg, Jeremy Piven, Johnny Depp, Bill Cosby 

Page 25: Justin Bieber is questioning his future in the scandal-scarred Hillsong church after his former pal and pastor Carl Lentz was booted out in disgrace -- the singer has long relied on Hillsong which some have branded a cult and Lentz to help him navigate fame -- Justin’s at a crossroads right now because he definitely felt betrayed by Carl and now he and his wife Hailey Bieber are deciding whether to stay with the church 

Page 26: Viola Davis has revealed how growing up poor in Rhode Island affected her self-worth saying what comes with poverty is invisibility and we just want to be somebody desperately -- Viola says her feeling of I’m Important helped drive her career which has led to an Oscar and two Tonys and an Emmy 

* Hollywood Hookups -- Vanessa Hudgens is dating Cole Tucker of the Pittsburgh Pirates, Jordan Fisher and Ellie Woods married, Luann De Lesseps dating Garth Wakeford 

Page 27: Nicole Kidman has revealed there is only one cure for her desperate struggles with loneliness which is in the arms of husband Keith Urban -- Nicole said she practices psychological discipline to keep her career and home life separate but isolation still plagues her 

* Dallas star Linda Gray is mourning the death of her son Jeff Thrasher at the age of 56 -- she’s heard from some former Dallas colleagues who have rallied around her and expressed their condolences -- no cause of death for Jeff has been revealed 

Page 28: Cover Story -- Prince William is trapped in a cancer nightmare after medical tests have led doctors to suspect the heir to Britain’s throne may be fighting a slow-moving form of the deadly disease and now the 38-year-old royal and his family are terrified he is in severe danger and medical experts are monitoring his health for any symptoms of the illness -- there’s talk around the palace the prince’s decision to reveal he tested positive for COVID-19 during the spring is really an attempt to explain away his condition because doctors found something funky when they checked for the virus -- if William’s health takes a turn for the worse it could further erode confidence in the monarchy which has already endured Prince Andrew’s sex scandal and the defection of Prince Harry -- when William’s doctors dropped their cancer bombshell his wife Duchess Kate Middleton locked herself away with just their kids for five days and she’s practically had a breakdown but she’s learned to be a royal and is now coping very bravely and confronting the future with steely resolve but she is urging William to mend fences with his estranged brother Harry

Page 32: Health Watch 

Page 36: Jessica Simpson is preparing her windpipes for a post-pandemic musical comeback -- she hasn’t released an album since Happy Christmas a decade ago but wants to storm the pop charts once again and recruit some of her wider family to give her a disco edge because Jessica has always looked up to Diana Ross who is sister Ashlee Simpson’s mother-in-law and Jessica has been bugging Ashlee to hook her up with Diana and she thinks they could do an incredible duet 

Page 38: Paul McCartney has taken a seething jab at a two-faced gold-digging mystery woman in his new song Lavatory Lil but insisted it’s not about his ex-wife Heather Mills 

* Lil Wayne’s ex-girlfriend fears he will go insane behind bars -- the rapper is a convicted felon banned from possessing a weapon and now faces up to 10 years in jail after federal agents in Miami caught him with heroin and cocaine and ecstasy and marijuana and a gold-plated gun -- former girlfriend Melissa Howe says he won’t cope and it took him years to get his life back to normal after his last trip inside so for it to happen again for him to be put behind bars it would really get to him mentally 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- American Music Awards -- Kristin Cavallari, Christian Serratos, Paris Hilton, Dua Lipa, Bebe Rexha, Megan Fox 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- LeAnn Rimes holding a dog on Hallmark Channel’s Home and Family 

Page 47: Odd List 

[ogmosis]

CRIME FICTION INTERVIEW: ROD REYNOLDS

Rod Reynolds is one of the best crime fiction authors to emerge in the last five years, his Charlie Yates trilogy set in the USA up there with other British writers such as Ray Celestin as well as Americans like Attica Locke and James Lee Burke. I had heard of Rod's work in the industry, but it wasn't until lockdown that I had the time to indulge in his writing. His ear for American dialogue from the 1940s is excellent, while his plotting and characters draw you in - the protagonists and antagonists constantly criss-crossing the line between good and evil. After moving on from Charlie and Faber for the time being, his latest book Blood Red City for Orenda Books is set in London - the city where he grew up as a council estate boy. Rod kindly took time out from working on his new book to talk about his career journey, inspirations and fitting writing in around bringing up young children.

How did a lad from Camden end up mining 1940s America for his first published novels?

I took a sabbatical from advertising in 2010 for a year to try and write a novel. I took a distance learning course with The London School of Journalism. I had never written anything, even though I have always been a big reader of crime. I grew up on a council estate in Camden and I didn't know anyone who had ever done anything like that. It was only as I got older, one of my old bosses was writing a book and he said, "You know what, why can't it be someone like us". I wrote a novel, sent it off to a million agents and got rejected, but got some really nice feedback saying, “This story doesn't work, but keep writing”. I went back to work with a new job, real life took over for a couple of years and it got to a point where I needed to decide whether I needed to do anything with this or put it away as a flight of fancy. I had the idea for the book that would become The Dark Inside after I stumbled across a real-life case that inspired it and I did some research into it. I had the voice at least that would become the character of Charlie Yates and it was quite vivid in my mind, so to give myself a shove I signed up to do the Masters course at City, University of London in novel writing. I was really lucky as it was the first year they ran a crime specific course with novelist Claire McGowan, amongst others. I had some amazing teaching that helped me develop the book and I ended up getting picked up by my first agent before I graduated then, not too long after, I landed with Faber. Lucky coming together of different circumstances.

How hard was it to change your mindset from advertising to novel writing?

I was a buyer in advertising, so that was a very social job. Great in some ways as you could get to take clients to drinks, dinner and parties, but I was working silly hours. I had reached my natural conclusion with advertising as I had done my 10-year stint. I wasn't passionate about it anymore. I was specifically dealing with newspapers, which was a declining sector of the industry. I was already looking at having to change my skill set if I wanted to carry on, so it wasn't too hard for me to walk away in that sense. I miss being around the office with the team I worked with. If I could have done the job from Thursday lunchtime to Friday evening, I would have happily done that forever. The rest of the week I could leave out. One of the reasons that I wanted to do the City of London course, because I was working full-time, I needed something to structure me and find that time in my week to write. I was also working on a deadline that we were due our first child halfway through the course, so I had to get that done. After I left my job, I swapped with my wife once she finished her maternity leave so I was looking after our little one at the time. It was helpful in a way because the only time I could write was at nap time or in the evenings. No time to worry about whether it was perfect, so I just got the words out and got the book done. Towards the end of the second novel, we were expecting our second child so the book had to be done again. My kids are school age now. I kind of look back and think, "How the hell did I work to those restrictions?" It is like anything - you get used to it and find a way.

I think Charlie Yates is one of the most flawed and interesting crime fiction protagonists we have seen in recent years, so how did he evolve?

James Ellroy was the big starting point for me, even after I got into Chandler, Hammett et al. Charlie started out as a voice that I could hear in my head, even if that sounds ephemeral or arty. I had this world weary, beaten down, over the hill journalist who kind of hated himself. I could hear how he would approach this situation whereby he is taken from being cynical in New York City and plunged into this seemingly nothing story in the Deep South which suddenly becomes very important to him, because he can see the effect on people in the town, the victims and their families. It is a matter of life and death. It is based on the real-life Texarkana Moonlight Murders in 1946. I wanted to fictionalise that scenario. The reason he comes from New York is that I read that a journalist from The Times in London was sent over to cover it, but it felt a little bit contrived so the next best alien place for me was New York as it was closer to understanding someone's life from London than somewhere else.

Did the clever FBI through line arrive at the start of your outlining?

Initially it was only going to be a standalone book, then I was going to write a second novel set in the same universe with different characters - something that Ellroy has done and I love. When Faber bought The Dark Inside, they asked for Charlie to come back and that wasn't too tricky. Colt Tanner came about essentially as someone I wanted to write to challenge myself and have fun with. He is unashamedly on both sides of the law. He is willing to do bad things, but he is on the side of the angels in his own mind. He is utterly convinced that the ends justify the means because of what he is trying to achieve. Charlie has got his own flaws and is riddled with self-doubt, while Colt is absolutely certain of his own moral rectitude.

How difficult was the Bugsy Siegel arc to write about?

I have been lucky enough to travel to Las Vegas a number of times over the years and I wanted to write something set there in the early days because it was such a sleazy, strange, literal desert outpost that became almost overnight this gambling mecca. I hadn't planned to involve it in the series and, when I travelled to Texarkana on a research trip and I was finishing up a draft of The Dark Inside, we were driving to Memphis to catch a flight to somewhere else and we passed this town called Hot Springs. I started reading up on the history of this town and how it had been run by this English gangster, who was sent down from New York and all this incredible history that it had. Bugsy Siegel was a regular visitor there and it looks like he took some of its influence as the blueprint for Vegas. Suddenly it just came together. That was book two sorted and I had a story I wanted to tell, and I can then link that straight to Bugsy finishing off the Flamingo in Vegas throughout book three. I was very lucky that Hot Springs, this town in the middle of nowhere in Arkansas that was really isolated in a valley fifty miles down the road from Texarkana, was Siegel's favourite location.

Are you a pantser or a plotter?

I love dialogue. I enjoy it the most and find it the most natural. I am a reluctant plotter. I started out as a pantser with a plan only really in my head but, with each book, the more I plan at the start the more it helps me at the back end. I was worried that it would stifle creativity and actually it is not really the case. I can now start with the synopsis and a route map I know I am going to try and follow. If I veer off from that and find better ways that is not a problem, but it is when you don't have that and don't know how to get from A to B or E to F in the middle of the story - that is when you can end up struggling.

Did you struggle getting back into a British groove for the new book?

All the stuff that I had written had been set in the States, even my first novel that was unpublished. You think it would be easy to write British as it is all around us and I am also writing in the present day without having to worry about anachronisms and regional dialects which was a tricky thing with the previous books, but it took a while to get those beats to make it sound authentic and the way I heard it in my head. I am not one for sharing my stuff until I am absolutely happy with it and satisfied it is as good as I can make it, then I am quite lucky in that I have a couple of trusted readers that I send it to. One will tell me if the story is good and then one will find any tiny mistake that I have made and picks up stuff even copy editors can miss. Karen Sullivan from Orenda Books is great. She does the first edit for Orenda, then we work with West Camel who is her editor and he goes through it a second time and incorporates his feedback. It is nice to have that two-stage process. Blood Red City is out in paperback and has done really well. Financial Times picked it as one of their summer reads. The reviews have been great and people have been getting in touch to say that they have enjoyed it. Orenda have a big network of bloggers and readers on board and that is helpful as it touches on themes that some people might find off-putting. It starts with financial crime and I didn't want to put it solely in that direction as it is about murder and London. Orenda have a small team, but they have built an incredible presence.

What are your hopes going forward?

The story I am working on at the moment has elements of a psychological thriller about it, even though it didn't start out that way. This new one was supposed to be a big departure. I was looking at something like a Sliding Doors thing with parallel lives, but at the start of lockdown I cut half the story, which was quite painful, but I am enjoying writing it. I also have a second book with Orenda, which is going through edits and is set in the present day in the States based on another real-life case. Hopefully that is out in 2021. As a community, you will do well to find a warmer or more welcoming bunch of people than we have in crime fiction. You think there would be some competitiveness, but I haven't seen any.

Find out more about Rod HERE.  Buy Rod’s Charlie Yates trilogy HERE. Check out his new book Blood Red City HERE.

[isthisthingeven0n]

goodnight n go : j.w

brief summary: loosely based on goodnight n go by ariana grande. you and jeff are friends with benefits, but you’re too afraid to allow it to become something more. 

 this has it all I’m telling you. there’s fluff, there’s angst and I think it might be one of my longest pieces (3.2k holy shit) to date. (yup, it is definitely a rollercoaster) sorry for my absence recently, I haven’t exactly felt inspired by a lot, but this was an idea that just popped in my head as I listened to the lyrics of Ariana's song. 

* masterlist *

Opening my eyes I glance over, holding in a sigh as I slowly lift his arm to release myself from his hold. I begin my usual routine; quickly change into my clothes, pick up my keys from the kitchen and leave before sunrise. I’ll wake up in my own bed and start the day on my own in my own place. 

A small groan sounds as I slip my jeans on and turn to see him peaking his left eye open before the groan gets louder. “Can’t you just stay?” He mumbles as he lifts his arm up, exposing more of his muscular chest. 

Forcing my eyes away I shake my head as I throw my top on, “You know I can’t.” I respond as I tie my shoes up before huffing loudly. “Maybe some other time.” I mutter the last part, the same thing I say nearly every single time. 

Behind me, I can hear him moving and he is now kneeling on the edge of his bed in only his boxers. I look directly into his deep brown eyes, knowing how easy it is to be enticed, drawn back in and never leave them. “Why’d you always do this?” His words come out harsher than he clearly intended based on the way he’s biting his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m sorry, I,”

“Don’t be.” I cut him off as I grab my jacket and phone. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” 

Without saying another word I walk out of his room. I grab my keys and walk out of his place straight to my car. 

As I drive back I glance down seeing it’s only 5am. I still have less than an hour until sunrise, I could start my day now. But that defeats the purpose of leaving. If I wanted to start my day at his I guess I could, but I don’t want to complicate it all. 

Walking into my own apartment I unchange as quickly as I did when I walked into his place. Except now it’s less heated, more exhausted. 

A loud yawn escapes my lips as I flop myself into my perfectly made bed, allowing myself to treasure an extra hour before my day restarts the way it should. 

*

Sitting on the sofa in between Jeff and Zane I lean into Jeff naturally at this point and his arm relaxes around me. It’s something I barely even think about, but the look Carly is giving me says it all. 

“Okay, I’ve booked tickets for us all to go to Vegas.” David walks in with his camera, panning around the room as we all look up from our phones with confused expressions identical to one another. 

“Why?” Jeff asks and I chuckle quietly. 

David huffs loudly, “I want to win a bet I placed with Jason, and I need vlog content.” 

We all exchange looks before nodding. “I mean, a free trip to Vegas sounds good to me.” I comment and a few others make similar comments in agreement. 

“Guess that’s settled, we fly out tomorrow morning.” David cheers and I sit upright from leaning on Jeff. 

This is the first time we’ve both been away somewhere together. I glance up at him, seeing his eyes already on me. “Wonder where we’re staying.” He leans down, muttering in my ears. 

Refusing to give in I merely shrug my shoulders. “Who knows, but two nights in Vegas does sound like fun.” I nudge him lightly and he smirks down to me before I zone back in on the groups' conversation whilst Jeff keeps his arm resting on my waist, pulling me closer into him. 

*

Unable to stop my leg from fidgeting on the flight I feel someone rest their hand on my thigh and as I look up I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god it’s you.” I chuckle as he smiles softly. 

“Anxious flyer?” He asks and I quickly nod. “I never knew that about you.” 

I glance up at him, averting my eyes from the view outside as we begin to take off. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jeff.” I mutter as I feel myself gripping onto his hand tightly as we are forced back into our chairs during take off. 

“I’ve got you.” He whispers as the plane levels in the sky and Jeff motions for me to look outside. “Almost as beautiful as you out there.” He comments and I turn away from him, my fingers slipping out of his as I see the perfect clouds as rays of sunlight cut through them. 

I refuse to turn back and look at him, let him get away with saying such a comment. I know deep down it’s all a bit of fun, that whatever we are doing doesn’t mean anything, not really. 

I’ll never allow myself to become that girl to him, the one who got too comfortable. I’ve known that girl, been her friend, held her hand during the heartbreak she never intended to have. I can’t be her, I won’t let myself.

*

Giggling loudly I lean on Zane as we both stumble back towards our hotel rooms as David and the others stand behind us, laughing at the sight of us both completely wasted.

“Why’re you filming me? He’s the drunk one I’m helping.” I slur my words as I let go of Zane for a split second, only to feel his entire weight pressing me to the ground. “Ow.” I mumble as I look up to see Jeff and Todd lifting Zane off of me. 

Jeff lifts me up, “I’ll take you back to your room.” He smiles as I stand on my own feet, slowly walking towards my room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk.” He laughs to himself as he unlocks my door for me. “Here,” He walks past me as I collapse on my bed, feeling uneasy as he passes me a bottle of water. “drink this, rest up.” 

I smile up to him sleepily, my eyes becoming heavy before I can put together a sentence. “Night Jeff.” I mumble as I feel my head hit the pillow. 

The last thing I can feel is his lips on my forehead as he brushes my hair out of my face. 

*

As I join everyone I can tell their all watching me carefully as I beeline straight to the coffee. “Morning sleeping beauty.” David sings and I immediately shush him. 

“You do not get to talk this morning.” I tell him forcefully tell him as I pour my coffee and pick up a few pancakes before joining everyone. 

Sitting next to Carly I rest my head on her shoulder as she pats my face. “Baby have a lil too much to drunk huh?” She laughs quietly whilst I nod before forcing myself upright as I look around, surprised not seeing him sat here.

“Where’s Jeff?” I ask as I pick up a piece of pancake and begin to chew it whilst I see everyone glancing back and forth. “What?” I mumble with pancake in my mouth.

“He’s with some girl.” Todd grumbles as he picks up his toast and I simply nod. 

For the rest of breakfast, I sit in silence as I make my way through my pancakes, trying my hardest for them to not make a reappearance. “We’re going to head to the pool, fancy coming?” Carly asks me and I shake my head. 

“I’m probably going to sleep this hangover off a bit more, but I’ll join you later?” Carly smiles before heading off with Erin and Kristen whilst I sit with the guys still not saying anything. 

The silence is almost overbearing as I lift my napkin and dab my lips. “Y/n,” David speaks up and I rise to my feet before he can continue with his sentence. 

“I’ll be back later, I just need a bit of fresh air.” I head back towards my room and I can hear Todd yell I’m going in the wrong direction of the entrance, but I ignore it all as with every step I can just picture him with someone else. 

I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, that I was right all along to not let myself get comfortable. But getting comfortable and falling for him is completely different, and now I’m left dealing with the heartache I didn’t ask for. 

As I unlock my door I glare down the corridor, knowing he’s in one of these rooms with someone else. But I can’t be pissed at that, he has every right to. We never defined rules to what we were doing, I can’t blame him for finding a hot girl in Vegas, I’m sure they were fighting one another for him. 

A quiet knock on my door averts my attention as I forcefully wipe my eyes. “Y/n? It’s David.” Slowly I rise to my feet before unlocking the door as he looks at me with such pain that I just break. 

Crying I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him as he walks us forward so he can shut the door as he rubs my back. “It’s okay,” He soothes me as I slowly compose myself to face him. 

“How’d you know?” I ask as I sniff loudly. 

David pulls a face. “I mean, I’ve seen you two sneaking about. I slept on Jeff’s couch as I was editing one night and saw you sneak out without knowing I was there. And the way you two act around one another, hardly a surprise.” I let out a dry laugh, nodding in surprise that David was the first to put it together. 

“I can’t say I’m not surprised you’re the first to know.” I joke and he feigns pain as he falls backwards, clutching his chest and I laugh properly, feeling my tears drying. 

He returns to sit upright beside me. “Does he know how you feel?” David asks sincerely and I bite my lip.

I shake my head. “I don’t know how I feel, Dave.” Finally saying the words aloud I let out a heavy sigh. “We’re friends and I have to deal with the fact he is going to be with other people.” Drilling that idea into my brain pains me deeply. “And that is just how it’ll be. What we were doing wasn’t planned to be long term.” I remind myself as well as David who shakes his head. 

“No.” He simply states as he rises to his feet. 

“What’d you mean, no?” I ask, slightly stunned at his sudden change in attitude. 

“I will not let you cry over him like this. God, you’re both so oblivious it hurts.” He groans loudly as he clutches his hair. “Fucks sake, Y/n. Jeff is in love with you!” He almost yells the sentence and I feel the force of it knocking me back. 

Staring up at the ceiling the words ring in my head as David peers over me. “Oh god,” He mumbles as I blink. “are you still in there?” His hand waves in front of my face and I nod slowly. 

David helps me sit back upright. “How, how do you know?” I ask quietly as I face him, unsure else what to say.

“I know that look.” He mutters before rising to his feet. “And if I were you, I would tell him you feel the same back.” 

I remain quiet as David walks out of the room, leaving me with that thought looming over my mind for the rest of the day until night falls; the perfect time to show Jeff what he’s missing. 

*

The sound of a wolf whistle barely attracts my attention as I make my way through to the bar where we all agreed to meet this evening. 

I walk up beside David and I can already see jaws dropping, Jeff’s included. “Hey, guys.” I say with a smile as they all just stare. “What?” I ask as I glance down at my dress. 

“You look incredible.” Kristen states and a few others nod in agreement. 

Glancing down to my own attire of a short black dress with a deep plunge I scoff. “This old thing? It’s nothing, thought I’d let myself have a bit of fun before we head home.” I glance over to Jeff who can barely keep his eyes off of mine, but I can keep mine away from his for hours. “Well, shall we?” I ask and everyone slowly makes their way out of the bar, heading into the Casino. 

“You sure are something else.” Jeff walks up behind me as he smirks, but I roll my eyes, ignoring it as I head over to David and take a seat beside him as the Poker game begins. 

To my left, I can see Jeff watching closely as I cosy up to some stranger who can barely take his eyes off my cleavage. “Fancy blowing on these, doll?” He asks as I purse my lips, blowing on his cards. “Maybe you’ll be my new lucky charm.” 

I let out a laugh, placing my hand on his arm. “Maybe I will, handsome.” 

Before anything else can happen I get up and head off to another game whilst Jeff is occupied in the Poker game. I head to the slot machines knowing Kristen and Scott would be hanging out there. 

“Dressing to impress Y/n?” Scott questions and I glance over my shoulder, seeing Jeff still in my eye line. 

“Maybe, but not for anyone special,” I respond and Kristen's eyes widen at Scott as she turns to see where my eyes fall. 

“Oh shit.” Scott mutters and I walk off before he has the chance to ask any questions. 

As I walk I feel a hand on my arm, and as I turn I see the stranger from the Poker game gripping my arm tightly. “Hey, there baby. Thought I lost you back there.” He slurs his words as his breath reeks of vodka. 

Smiling politely I try to loosen my arm from his hold, but it’s no use. “Well, I got bored. Thought I’d check out something else.” 

The man chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I can’t be losing my lucky charm, how about we head upstairs so I can show you just how lucky you are.” His voice deepens and I feel my entire body weaken under his hold as I try to restrain.

“I’m good.” I retort as I push against him, but it’s no use. 

“Oh darling, that wasn’t a question.”

“And she answered regardless douchebag.” The man lets go of me as he turns to Jeff who punches him square in the jaw. “Do not disrespect women you sick fuck!” Jeff yells as the man clutches his face.

I place my hand on Jeffs' arm, walking him away, out of the Casino before Security turn up. “What the fuck were you doing?” I angrily mutter as he keeps his head low as we head towards the lift. 

“I saw what was happening, I couldn’t leave you like that.” He states as he faces me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. 

“I can fend for myself, you know.” I retort as we step inside of the lift. 

“I know you can.” He mumbles this statement and I let out a heavy sigh as I look out of the corner of my eye, seeing his fist cut. 

“You should get that cleaned up.” I tell him as the lift doors open and I walk out towards my room before he has the chance to make me any angrier. 

“Y/n, what is wrong with you?” He yells in the middle of the corridor. 

Stopping I stare at him as I cross my arms. “No,” I state coldly. “you do not get to ask me that, Jeff.” Pushing open my door I hear him running, forcing it open before I can close it. 

“I thought we were fine, I left you drunk last night and then today you’re pissed at me?” He scoffs as if he has done nothing. 

“You slept with some girl last night Jeff, Todd told me.” I say calmly, fighting back the tears in my eyes. “And I know, you have every right to sleep with whoever the fuck you want- we’re just friends with benefits! I knew I should’ve stopped this months ago. If I did I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be in this mess.” I’m almost yelling, but he stands there taking it all in. 

“What do you mean, what mess, Y/n?” He steps closer to me, holding his hand out. 

“Oh wow, are you that clueless?” I sarcastically call out. “I’m in love with you, Jeff. I shouldn’t be, I didn’t want to let this happen but here I am in love with a guy who’ll never love me more than as a friend.” Huffing I let the tears fall as I sit down on my bed, waiting for him to turn around and leave me in the silence of my confession. 

But he doesn’t. He’s still standing there. “You, you love me?” He quietly asks and I slowly nod as I close my eyes as tears continue to pour out of my eyes. 

I watch his feet move closer towards mine until he bends down, his hands resting on my thighs as he lifts my chin so I can look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Y/n?” He asks softly as he rests his palm on my cheek, wiping away the tears as they fall. 

Shrugging my shoulders I let out a dry laugh. “I didn’t realise I did until this weekend.” I tell him. “Until I realised I had lost you, that I hadn’t had the chance to let myself think about you in that way because I was afraid. I was so scared of falling for you only to be hurt.” 

Jeff shakes his head as his other palm rests on my other cheek. “Hey,” He whispers as his eyes lock with mine. “I’m never ever hurting you, Y/n. You hear me?” I weakly nod. “Because I love you too.” My eyes widen as he lets out a soft laugh. “I’ve known for a long time, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I, I didn’t sleep with that girl last night. She was drunk and crashed on my bed, I slept in David’s room.” 

Shaking my head in disbelief I let out a sigh. “That son of a bitch.” I mumble as Jeff sits down next to me. “He knew,” 

“And played us good.” Jeff finishes and we sit in silence, staring at one another for a few seconds. “I guess this means we aren’t friends with benefits anymore?” He raises his eyebrow and I shrug my shoulders. 

“I guess we technically are. You’ll always be my friend Jeff, but maybe you’ll be my boyfriend?” I ask with a smile rising on my face and he smiles back before leaning forward, kissing me softly. 

It wasn’t like any kiss we’ve had before. This was new, this was a fresh start for both of us. 

As we pull away Jeff rests his forehead on mine, my hands resting in his. “Come on,” He slowly helps me out of my dress as he undresses and cleans his fist up before we climb into bed. “I guess we can finally have an entire night together.” 

Curling up into him he kisses my head gently. “About time and all.” I mutter as he laughs against my skin before we both begin to fall asleep, at last, in each other's embrace.  

[badcowboy69]

Homeward Bound part 4

Yeesh...long time no write on the continuation to this saga. The story continues on Travis’ trip back to his parents’ ranch in Arizona where he tries to find any lost memories and most importantly tries to reconnect with his family.

@fuzzyelves it’s about time, huh? lol  Hopefully part 5 won’t take as long.  Previous chapters can be found in my #writings section.  Enjoy!

Placed under the cut due to length.

“Here’s to the rest of this visit going easier,” Travis muttered with a pessimistic tone in his voice while pouring a small portion of moonshine.  He toasted no one in particular then downed the liquor in one gulp.  With the very condensed tale of the past years over with, Travis felt slightly at ease.  Slightly.  He even dared to admit that he was starting to feel curious about what stories his parents had to share about his forgotten past.  Setting the jar down on the coffee table, Travis gave Riley a nod indicating to follow him and together they headed towards the bathroom.

After both men washed the day’s sweat and desert dust off their faces, necks, and arms, they proceeded back down the hall to the door that Mrs. Blackfox indicated was to Travis’ room.  However, instead of charging right in, Travis simply stood in front of the door, his hand hovering scant inches away from the worn, brass door knob.  

“Are you ok?”  Riley asked.  “I’m sure this is going to be overwhelming.  Just take your time and…”

“Ain’t that.  Lookit this,” Travis grunted, pointing at a bouquet of dried sunflowers tacked to the door.  “Thought she said this is supposed to be my room, but what’s with the flowers?  I might not remember much of anything on my past, but I know hanging flowers on my door ain’t something I’d ever do.”

Riley frowned deeply and uncomfortably ran his fingers through his red hair.  “Well,” he started slowly, trying to carefully choose his words.  “I’m not sure what traditions or cultures are out here, let alone fully in the wasteland these days, but back in my time something like this meant the person had...ummm...passed away.  It’s a memorial of sorts.”

“Buncha shit,” Travis snorted and smacked the door making Riley quirk an eyebrow.  However, Travis didn’t explain his remark.  In the back of his mind he knew all the years of torture his parents must have went through thinking he was dead was his own fault.  He knew all he had to do was ask Mister House for help or even simply get on his motorcycle drive to Hackberry, but fear of rejection always held him back.  Regardless of his memories being lost or not, the last thing he wanted to do was try to connect to where he might not be welcome or wanted.

Riley sighed heavily and felt his shoulders slump seeing that Travis’ dour mood was starting to return.  He hated seeing him like this and hoped that Travis would relax and cheer up or, even better, find a forgotten memory soon.  There was nothing he could say or do at this moment to help as this was something Travis had to overcome on his own.  Taking a quick look around, Riley spotted a few frames on the wall near the door.  Hoping to break the tension and distract Travis from the flowers, Riley offered, “Check out these photos, Travis.  Do any of these spark anything for you?” 

Without even turning to look at the pictures, Travis replied with disinterest, “Ain’t got the foggiest.”

The response was almost what Riley anticipated, but he still tried.  “Your folks seem to really like photographs.  Maybe during this reunion they can add some new pictures to their collection.  I’m also willing to bet they’d love to see those pictures you have back in the Lucky 38 showcasing your adventures through the years.  I’m sure they’d especially love the ones of you performing on stage at the Tops.  I know those are my personal favorites.”

“Maybe.”  Travis stared intently at the dried flowers on his door and twitched his moustache in annoyance.  He reached to remove them as he wasn’t “dead” anymore, but immediately changed his mind.  Although this was his room and he could probably do whatever he wished, Travis felt the removal of the flowers should be decided by his folks.  This may be his home, but being absent for so many years he felt he had to earn his place again.  Taking a deep breath and twisting the knob, Travis exclaimed, “Here goes nothing!”

The door opened with a soft whine to an average sized room.  The room was dim, but the afternoon sun managed to peek through the sides and small holes of a worn, red drape covering the single window.  Travis slowly made his way to it across the wooden floor which gave the occasional creek under his boot heels.  Leaning over a desk and carefully taking the drape, he pushed it aside allowing the sunlight to enter.  He blinked his eyes from the sudden brightness and once adjusted, Travis saw that the room faced a large corral.  He frowned seeing it was empty and briefly wondered where all the livestock could be.  Furrowing his brow, he continued to gaze at the vast property that made up the ranch while an odd sensation of longing slowly spread through him.  He wasn’t sure if it was his broken brain trying to connect back to his forgotten past or something else.  Either way, he felt an unfamiliar calm and the ends of his moustache slowly lifted into a wistful smile.

On the right past the corral, he spotted his father and two men out in the distance rolling what appeared to be wooden barrels towards the barn.  All three men seemed to be laboring hard over their work indicating that whatever was inside of the barrels was very heavy.  Travis wondered if it was alcohol of some sort in the barrels and that momentary distraction suddenly pulled him out of the previous longing.  He returned back to the present with a disappointed sigh.  I sure could use a drink about now.

Seeing Travis had come out of his momentary fog, Riley smiled and gestured towards the small, makeshift bookcase he was standing in front of.  An assortment of different Nuka Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla, and other types of bottles were arranged neatly on it.  Aside from a light covering of dust, they were all in decent condition.  “Look, Travis, it seems like you were a collector of bottles like you are now,” Riley commented, hoping that finding a small connection like this would help trigger something for his man’s destroyed memories.

Travis stepped to Riley’s side and looked over the bottles with mild interest.  “Dang, some of these I don’t even have back in Vegas.  Pretty cool.”  

Unfortunately, the spark Travis seemed to have got from seeing the bottle collection was temporary and it vanished as quickly as it came.  He flicked his fingers against a glowing Nuka Cola Quantum before turning away and drifting towards the center of the room.  Hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans, Travis slowly turned in a full circle as if trying to take in everything all at once in hopes he would find something familiar to him.  However, as he expected, he recognized absolutely nothing.  Still, he was slightly determined to find something and figured the best place to start would be his bed.  After all, there’s nothing more personal than that little bit of space.

The neatly made, full sized bed was in the corner against the wall.  It had faded, red patterned sheets and a folded patchwork quilt rested at the foot.  A rag doll of an animal that seemed to resemble a pre-war bison was laying against the pillows.  Over the headboard hung a dreamcatcher made from dried vines and adorned with feathers and colorful beads.  Next to the bed was a nightstand with an oil lamp, harmonica, a book about Native Americans that has seen better days, and a small frame with a photo inside of a teenage Travis and his father holding up two large fish, obviously proud of their catches. 

Travis sat on the bed, snatched up the frame and stared at the photo, his brow furrowed in concentration.  “Reckon we ate good that night,” he said glumly as nothing in the photograph triggered any bit of memory.  As he set the frame back on the nightstand, his eyes caught sight of a guitar wedged between the bed and the wall.  Reaching over the bed, Travis grabbed hold of the instrument’s neck and freed it.  He held it against him and gave a few strums, wincing at how out of tune it was.  “Shit, gonna have to fix that later if we stick around,” he mumbled more to himself than anything.     

Setting the guitar against the nightstand, Travis stood and chose the desk that was directly in front of the window as his next focal point.  The desk was made of wood and both it and its chair had seen better days.  The desk was far from organized and it made Riley smirk seeing that not much has changed with Travis in that aspect.  The desks back at the Lucky 38 were neat for the most part, but every now and then they could be found with stacks of papers and jalapeno stems scattered about.  Here, instead of papers and peppers, was a thick homemade journal open to a random page and a tipped over soup can with its contents of pencils strewn about.   

Reaching for the chair, Travis noticed there was a gun belt and holster draped over it, but no gun.  Taking a quick look around he found the pistol in question, half-buried under the papers on the desk.  He carefully brushed them aside to discover a .375 revolver and gun cleaning kit.  Disinterested, Travis placed the papers back over the gun then turned his attention to a crude wood carving of a yao guai.  Arching a curious eyebrow, he examined it with mild interest noticing the few chips and gouges in the wood betraying the creator’s inexperience.  “Wonder if I made these?  I mean, it sorta looks like my carving style, but ain’t as good...kinda rough and not too detailed.”

“It’s still very nice and maybe they have been recently learning how to carve.  Certainly much better than anything I could ever do.”  Riley took the yao guai from Travis and looked it over for any identification of the artist like initials or a date.  “Maybe whoever made this was your inspiration of sorts for you to do your own creations?”

Travis took the figure from Riley’s outstretched hand while his shoulders suddenly slumped.  “I reckon,” he responded softly.  He set the figure down and noticed the initials TB that were carved deeply into the wood of the desktop.  He smiled wistfully and traced over the letters with his finger.  “I mean I wish I could remember at least one damn thing around here.  Bad enough my folks are off the list, but if I could find only one thing I can remember growing up in this place…just one...”

“I understand, but the day is still young.  Don’t be discouraged.  Something might crop up when you least expect it and if not, that’s ok too,” Riley said gently while reaching for the worn book on the nightstand and carefully flipping through its pages.   

“I reckon,” Travis repeated and slowly made his way to the closet on the opposite side of the room.  He stood in front of the door and looked over the variety of cowboy pictures that were tacked all over it.  The pictures were from pre-war magazines or books and showcased cowboys in all sorts of situations and scenes either in shootouts, riding the range, or participating in a rodeo.  Some were even from advertisements promoting clothing and farming equipment.  However, the vast majority of cutouts were of shirtless cowboys striking seductive, sultry poses.  Travis smirked, “Man, if my folks don’t know I’m a confirmed bachelor, they’re really clueless.”  

Riley looked up and saw the pictures Travis was directing the comment about.  “Not necessarily. Some people can be very well aware of that fact, just...might not like to acknowledge it, unfortunately.”

Travis frowned and rolled his eyes.  “Well, gee, that’s encouraging.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it, Riles.  I get what ‘cha mean.”  Travis did his best to flash his partner a smile then opened the closet door.  As expected it was filled with a variety of plaid and solid colored shirts as well as plenty of jeans.  Resting on the floor were a few pairs of worn and dusty cowboy boots as well as random leather gloves and a few coiled ropes.  Travis pulled out a blue shirt and placed it against himself as if checking the size before returning it.  He continued to sift through the clothes, but like everything else, nothing seemed familiar to him.  Besides the bed, clothing would be the most intimate connection a person might have with something, but none of the articles sparked any recollection.  This is getting ridiculous, he glumly thought while shutting the door with a frustrated sigh.

Glancing around the room to see if there was anything he might have overlooked, Travis spotted a shelf he hasn’t yet examined.  It was adorned with an assortment of neatly arranged trinkets, but what really caught his attention was hanging above it.  The item in question was a long spear made out of a tree branch.  It was adorned with feathers and beads and its pointed rock tip was attached with leather straps and a strip of gray fur.  He stared at it for long moments wondering what the story was behind it.  He saw plenty of spears used by Tribals in parts of Utah and this one looked similar to them.  It got him thinking if he was truly a descendant of Tribals or even pre-war Native Americans.  He had his suspicions and hopes, but nothing was ever validated.   

Not wanting to strain his frazzled brain on thoughts about his heritage until he could speak to his parents about it, Travis focused on the items on the shelf instead.  Aside from random things such as a few nice rocks and a large pine cone, there was also a carving of a coyote and a two mason jars filled with bottle caps and marbles respectively.  However, a framed photo of a teenage Travis holding a baby animal of some kind caught and held his attention.  He stared intently at the picture for a long time, more intrigued as to what kind of creature he had rather than if the picture sparked any sort of memory or not.  The animal looked similar to the horses he’s seen in pre-war books and magazines or even the toy, Giddyup Buttercup, except this was a real being.

Noticing Travis had found something of apparent interest, Riley looked up from the book.  He could see the concentration on his partner’s face and it made him fidget in hopes that maybe Travis finally recognized something.  “What has your intense attention, babe?” Riley asked while returning the book to the nightstand then joining Travis at the shelf.

Travis gave him a side glance while nodding towards the photo.  “Check it out.  What kind of critter is that?  I mean, it looks like a pre-war...ummm….horse.  At first I thought it was one of those Buttercup toys, but this looks like the real deal.”

When Riley saw the animal in question he couldn’t believe his eyes.  He adjusted his glasses and peered closer for a better look at the photo in disbelief.  “I’ll be damned.  If I didn’t know any better I’d swear that is a horse, but from what I’ve gathered they’re long gone.  Well, at least in Boston anyway.  Travis, think back during your time at the Big Circle for that brahmin drive.  Do you remember anything like this?  I mean, you can’t exactly herd cattle on foot...at least I wouldn’t think it’d be too practical.  You and the other cowboys had to have a mount of some sort.”  Riley felt excitement rising inside of him over the possibility of horses in the Mojave. 

Sadly shaking his head no, Travis picked up a carving that was resting against the picture frame. This one resembled the animal in the photograph, but apparently as an adult.  Travis stared at it for long moments while tracing over it with his finger, admiring the craftsmanship and details.   “The few random things I remember about Big Circle, these critters ain’t one of them,” he said sorrowfully.  Suddenly furrowing his brow in frustration, Travis walked back to the bed and dropped heavily on it, still clutching the wooden horse.  He rubbed his face with a groan before resting his elbows on his knees.   Shifting his gaze up to his partner, Travis twitched his moustache and gave a weak laugh while shaking the carving.  “Ya know, had this been any ole room I would be fascinated by all of this stuff...especially the animal in the photo.  But knowing this is all my stuff and not having any recollection of it...well...it’s...it’s kinda surreal.  Does that even make sense?”

Taking a seat at Travis’ side, Riley put his arm around his shoulders and pressed an affectionate kiss on his cheek.  “Yes, it does, babe.”

“At least I got some cool stuff,”  Travis weakly laughed, leaned against Riley and closed his tired eyes.  “All this stuff and especially the photos don’t mean anything to me.  Not a damn thing.  It’s so weird seeing me doing shit in pictures, but have no memories of it.  Ain’t just surreal, it’s downright frustrating.” “Well, like I said, maybe something random will crop up for you when you least expect it.  Don’t try to force it.” Riley hoped he sounded encouraging, but deep down he knew he really couldn’t offer much.  This was all something Travis had to figure out and discover on his own.

Travis glumly nodded against him and felt Riley press a kiss on top of his head.  Pulling back, Travis nuzzled against his neck, placing a few kisses on the freckled skin.  “Thanks, Riles.  This all feels so hopeless, but I’ll try and not give up.”  

Riley heard the tiredness and frustration in his partner’s voice and his heart sank.  Had they been anyplace else but here, he would have laid back on the bed pulling Travis against him and would do his best to dole out comfort with his hands and mouth.  However, that was not an option at this point and time and instead he put his fingers under the whiskered chin of Travis and tilted his face towards him.  “That’s all you can do.  Like I’ve said earlier, you aren’t facing this alone,”  Riley said gently then pressed his lips against his partner’s.  “You have my full support in all of this and I’ll respect and honor any decision you make on how to keep moving forward here.” 

“Dang, I love you so much,” Travis smiled gratefully and returned the kiss while wrapping his arms tightly around him.  “I really cain’t wait to get outta here later and show you just how much.”  

Riley playfully nudged him and chuckled.  “There will be plenty of time for that.  I only hope there’ll be a nice, clean place in town for us to stay.” “If not, we got the camping gear.  That’s good enough for me anyways, you know that.”  Travis snickered seeing Riley flinch over the mention of camping.  “You know you love it!”

“If I wanted to get hot and sweaty at night, I’d much prefer to do it in our bedroom with you back at the Lucky 38,” Riley scoffed earning a frisky nip on his neck from his partner.  “Oh, you’re so lucky we’re not somewhere more private or I’d have to have you put your mouth to better use than that.”

Travis’ moustache lifted to a grin and Riley noticed a small spark of mischief in his crystal blue eyes.  Even though he knew Travis was caught up in the moment and the emotions were probably fleeting right now, it was still good seeing him in better spirits than the frustrated, somber mess he’s been since they arrived at the ranch.

As Riley bowed his head down to press a gentle kiss on Travis’ lips, a sharp knock at the door caused both men to jump and instantly scoot away from each other on opposite ends of the bed.  Riley found himself blushing fiercely from almost being caught and he immediately turned away, grabbing for the Native American book as a distraction.  

Although not as embarrassed, Travis still felt awkward and he cleared his throat to try and compose himself.  Grabbing the wood carving, Travis glanced at Riley to make sure he was ready before calling out, “C-come in!”

The door opened and a smiling Mrs. Blackfox stepped in.  “Dinner’s about up.  It’s your favorite, fried prairie fowl and maize,” she directed at Travis while her eyes caught the wood carving he was clutching.  “That right there…” she began, but stopped as she felt a sudden wash of emotions going through her.  “Do...do you remember that at all?” Tracy reached for the carving and held it lovingly while her finger traced over the animal’s ears and snout.  Travis shook his head no making his mother sigh softly.  “This was the last thing you did the night before you left for that New Vegas delivery.  You were so proud of this and it was the best one you made since you began learning the craft.”  She looked around the room and gave a nod to nowhere in general.  “All the figures in here and the few that are out around the house were done by you.  Each one you tried harder and harder to perfect, but this one...this was a true labor of love.”  Sighing, she handed the figure back to Travis and mustered up a supportive smile.  “Reckon that’s a story for later.  Now then, come and eat before your father inhales everything.” 

Travis sighed as he watched her go then dropped his gaze downwards to the carving.  He stared at it for long minutes, suddenly feeling rather sentimental over what his mother said about it being the last thing he did before his fateful journey to New Vegas.  He bit his lower lip as he felt tears wanting to build up in his eyes.  Furrowing his brow, Travis set the figure on the nightstand and snorted.  “Let’s make tracks...I’m gonna pass out from starvation.”

to be continued...

[la-leto]

Alex Honnold, star of the Oscar-contending doc Free Solo, is perched precariously halfway up an 85-foot wall. The seemingly superhuman climber who scaled a 3,000-foot sheer vertical wall in Yosemite National Park without any safety equipment is wearing a harness and tied into one end of a rope. In the unlikely event that he falls, the man on the other end, Jared Leto, will catch him. The wall arcs up and out at a steep angle — what rock climbers call overhanging — so a climber's body is nearly horizontal to the ground. When it's his turn to ascend the wall, Leto, breathing hard, is undeterred. "Nice, Jared, c'mon dude," Honnold, 33, shouts, doling out lengths of slack in the rope. "Stay with it, I'm with you."

Unlike the many people in Hollywood who have reached out to Honnold since the release of Free Solo, Leto, who fronts the rock band 30 Seconds to Mars and won a best supporting actor Oscar for 2013's Dallas Buyers Club, has been climbing with him since 2015. Leto was working on The Great Wide Open, a series of five short films about national parks and the men and women exploring them, including Honnold. Shortly after they met, the pro climber took Leto up a classic mountain route called Matthes Crest northeast of Yosemite Valley. It was one of Leto's first climbs, and they stayed out into the night. "We were just so psyched," says Honnold. Leto, 47, remembers scrambling along a thin blade of granite toward the summit and nearly falling off. "There was one part where I grabbed on the end of a rope during one really slabby section," he says. Leto continued to climb, and his friendship with Honnold grew. "I'm getting my ass kicked," the actor says, "which is great."

Leto makes a stealth appearance in Free Solo. Early on, filmmaker Jimmy Chin's camera lingers on an unidentified man's back as a disembodied voice (both belonging to Leto) asks Honnold if he would ever consider free-soloing the 3,000-foot granite monolith that is El Capitan, the mecca of the rock-climbing world. Honnold, of course, goes on to do just that, his ascent of El Capitan's Freerider route without ropes or harnesses ranking as a nearly unparalleled feat of physical achievement. On Feb. 24, the National Geographic-sponsored team that captured the epic journey on film, including Chin and his co-director and wife, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, might be going home with an Oscar statuette.

Free Solo has brought a slew of opportunities to Honnold. "It's like a snowball going downhill," he says. "And the film hasn't even hit streaming yet." In November, Honnold struck a multiyear brand ambassador partnership with car company Rivian, which considers Honnold a "superuser" because he lived in a van for so long. Rivian, which markets itself as the manufacturer of the "world's first Electric Adventure Vehicles," consults with Honnold on design. On Oscar night, Honnold is expected to show up in a Rivian R1T All-Electric pickup truck — and sport a custom-made tuxedo that The North Face is having made just for the occasion. (Honnold still uses the van that appeared in Free Solo for overnight climbing trips with his girlfriend, Sanni McCandless.) He has another ambassadorship deal with Beyond Meat, a company that makes plant-based products that resemble meat. He also has shares in the company, which could yield dividends when it stages its IPO soon. His nonprofit, The Honnold Foundation, which works on solar energy and aid projects for impoverished communities in the U.S. and abroad, has seen an uptick in attention and partnerships as well.

Black Diamond and Maxim sponsor his climbing gear. A company called Stride provides him with health insurance. Italian climbing company La Sportiva offers shoes, and Utah-based Goal Zero works with him to market solar chargers for phones. He gets paid handsomely to speak to investors and corporations, often repurposing a Ted Talk he gave last year about "mastery." He'll soon become part-owner of a national chain of climbing gyms, a speculative bid on an expected uptick of interest in rock climbing. Though he's avoided the big-time exposure that comes with big-time sports brands, Honnold will almost certainly make seven figures this year and next. Says his manager at RXR Sports, Jonathan Retseck, "For rock climbing, that's pretty good."

***

One recent morning, before Leto arrived at the Sender One climbing gym in South L.A., Honnold reflected on this new phase as a half-dozen people snuck by to snap pictures of him. Hollywood, too, has shown intense interest: Honnold was game when Edward Norton's agent got in touch about the two going climbing. (They haven't yet.) He met Brie Larson, who also has climbed and was training for Captain Marvel, at an Antonio Banderas screening. "I loved Zorro as a kid, and [Banderas] was talking about one of the scenes where he was climbing on a beam and forgot to clip in, and he was like, 'It's like free soloing,' " recalls Honnold. "It was pretty classic!"

It may come as no surprise that the man who scaled El Cap without ropes is unfazed by the pressures of Hollywood. At the climbing gym, as Honnold completes a difficult boulder problem — just slightly harder than the famous karate-kick move shown in Free Solo— he says, "I don't think any of it is that surprising if you think about it rationally. The scheduled time, the interviews, the publicists, being handled and stuff — it doesn't feel like a healthy lifestyle, but that's fine."

Of the awards-season rush, "It's obviously not how I would choose to spend my life," he says, "and the idea that freakin' actors do this for their whole careers blows my mind because it's not that fun, you know? It's really cool to meet these people that you've been inspired by, but you don't actually hang out. It's not quality time." Leto, who walks into the gym wearing a Grateful Dead shirt and black pants, adds that he lent him a tux for the Producers Guild Awards. "He could barely move in the thing, and the shoes I think were probably too small as well," notes Leto.

Since their first meeting in Yosemite, Honnold and Leto have climbed in Colorado, Nevada and in other places in California. "For the amount of time he's been doing it, he's actually phenomenal," Chin says, bestowing on the Oscar winner an even greater honor: "He's a climber."

Later, Leto, who has put on 10 pounds since playing Dallas Buyers Club's transgender drug addict, shares that the physical change is part of preparation for his role as the archvillain in Morbius, the Marvel spinoff about the vampiric character. "The world's most fearsome predator," Leto quips. Warming up on a few moderately easy routes that snake up alongside Sender One's imposing overhang, Leto adds that he hopes to pack on 10 more pounds: "It's great because I go from being very sick and very infirm to being strong and monstrous" in the movie. The friends have climbed at indoor gyms whenever the Las Vegas-based pro climber has been in town to promote Free Solo, and Honnold has been careful not to push Leto too far out of respect for his actorly obligations. "Jared's climbing is not the most important thing for him, obviously," he says, adding: "I think it would be cool to do stunts — I want to wind up as Tom Cruise's stunt double, to do climbing in a movie. Don't you think that'd be fun?" One of his early climbing heroes, a well-known Yosemite legend named Ron Kauk, climbed for Sylvester Stallone in Cliffhanger and for Cruise in Mission: Impossible II.

Understandably, most people still want to talk about Honnold's ascent of Freerider, even though his climbing career has moved on in some ways, including a record speed ascent of another route on El Cap and an expedition to Antarctica. "But then I spend all day, every day, talking about the Freerider climb, so in some ways I haven't moved past it at all," he says. "It's the first time in my life I've had that kind of weird disconnect between what I'm working on versus what I'm talking about."

He hadn't climbed outside in more than a month, and yet now, as he moves from bouldering to a few rounds on the hang bar to the overhanging wall, he seems content. "I feel surprisingly strong for the fact that I live in hotels now," he says. Honnold and a friend have been toying with the idea of attempting a route somewhere on the Trango Towers, a massif of 20,000-feet-high granite peaks in northern Pakistan that has attracted top climbers for years. "I just want to get to the top of some of the most striking towers in the world," he says. "Honestly though, we'll see if it even happens because of scheduling."

In other ways, Honnold's life post-Free Solohas mellowed. He's happily ensconced with McCandless at the Vegas home they purchased during filming of the movie. They climb together often. Co-director Vasarhelyi points out that Honnold has successfully managed to scale this emotional challenge. "They found love," she says. "It's a Shakespearean story, the little engine that could." Honnold says the emotional drama of the documentary belies a more serene domesticity that he thoroughly enjoys. "You only see a few minutes onscreen, so it doesn't show that you're living together in harmony," he says. "It only shows the moments of tension around this big challenge." Still, it seems evident that conquering the solo climb has freed up something deeper in Honnold. Whereas in the movie Honnold was demonstrably uncomfortable when hugging his friend Tommy Caldwell's kids, now he struts around the gym proudly holding Chin and Chai Vasarhelyi's daughter, Marina, in his arms. They call him "Uncle Alex."

Later, as he belays Leto, who scrambles up another route, a friend stops by to chat. Honnold asks about the friend's romantic relationship. "It's casual," the friend says. "Is it consistent?" Honnold asks, and the friend nods. Honnold thinks on this for half a second. "Consistently casual is still consistent," Honnold says, smiling. "After three great years with Sanni, I feel qualified to give relationship advice." He says he wants a family and kids of his own one day. "Are you going to let them climb?" the friend asks. Honnold doesn't hesitate. "I'm sure my kids will grow up underneath the moonboard in my home." For someone who has explored the most extreme corners of what's physically and psychologically possible, Honnold seems keen to resume a life of normal pleasures. "As soon as the Oscars are over, he's going to be itching to get in a van with Sanni and go on a climbing trip and life as usual," says Retseck. Leto reaches the top of the wall. Honnold brings him down, they laugh, and move on to the next route.

[greyson--matthew--sixx]

Meet Greyson

[ colson baker/machine gun kelly, twenty eight, male, he/him ] ━ hey, I just saw [ greyson sixx ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ 6 months ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ musician/actor and tattoo artist ]. I hear they’re known to be [ creative & intuitive ] and [ hot-headed & defensive ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ heavy drinks, pot, music, tattoos ]. 

Heyo!  Lil here! So, this is my boy, Greyson. This post has taken me like over a week to prepare and I don’t know if it’s fully done. I’m still kind of building Grey’s family in my head. It’s very dysfunctional and that might be the way he is now, but he’s a sweetheart once you get to know him. I’ve placed his Bio under the read-more as I don’t want to clog the dash. I’ll be making another post shortly with connections and short facts about Greyson, his life and his family. :) Thanks, peeps!

Greyson was born in Phoenix Arizona to Jack and Melanie Dean. His Mother was an Artist and his Father was a Musician. They’d met at one of Jack’s shows. Jack had seen how beautiful she was and was immediately attracted to her. Before long, Jack and Melanie lived together in Jack’s little apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was somewhere Jack could be himself when he wasn’t working on new music with his friends and bandmates. They’d only been together 6 months when Jack popped the question and they drove to Vegas that weekend to elope. Shortly after their Vegas wedding, Mel found out she was pregnant. She wasn’t ever sure if she wanted kids. She wondered how that would set back her career, but the further along she became, the more she felt the love for her unborn child. After Grey was born, the couple went on to have 3 more kids. Every child a year or two apart. The youngest being 25. Greyson actually has 2 older siblings from a past relationship that was his Father’s.

Grey always ended up in the ER. He was an adventurous, daredevil as a kid. He was always jumping on and off of things. Climbing things, trying out new ideas and hobbies. One hobby Greyson enjoyed was drawing and listening to music. He drew everyday, even going so far as to stay up past his bedtime and draw in secret, listening to his walkman and later his mp3. The more he drew, the better he got. During his time at school, his grades would slip but he always aced his art classes and spent his spare time learning how to play different instruments in the music room. His Mother was proud of him, but his Father hated it. He hated that his son took so much after his Mother. One week when Grey was 13 his Mother took a work trip and his Father stayed home to take care of him. His Father was a firefighter because it took out a lot of frustration that built up in him. A week off, and his frustration grew and grew till the point he took it out on his son. He beat Grey. It was difficult for Greyson to keep this a secret from his Mom. She could read him like a book, and when she found out she went nuts. Eventually, a neighbor of theirs called Child Protective Services and Greyson was taken from his parents and was in and out of Foster homes until he was 18. He caused a lot of trouble growing up, but one thing that stayed the same and was the only constant in his life was his drawing and music. It seemed like those were his only saving graces. During his time in and out of Foster homes, he met a girl 4 years younger than he, who ended up being the closest ‘sibling’ Grey could ask for. He’d legally become her Guardian when he up and left the system at 18.

He’d lived in many places over the years, Arizona, New Mexico, New York, Texas, Washington, Oregon and California. During his time in New York, he decided he didn’t want to be associated with his Father’s name. Music had also been a saving grace for Greyson, he was a huge fan of heavy rock and Motley Crue had been his Mother’s favorite band, something they had bonded over growing up. He decided to legally change his last name to Sixx, like Nikki Sixx. Each place inspired him in different ways. He was passionate about what he did and wanted to do. He wanted to become a musician and tattoo artist after getting many of his own, he wanted to create original pieces of work and have people wear them proudly. Eventually he got an internship in the one place that inspired him the most, LA. After working there a few months he’d met all kinds of people. From regulars to famous celebrities. He’d been offered small hole in the wall acting jobs. He apparently had the face for television.

Years later, the world knows the name of Greyson Sixx. He’s big in the music scene, the acting world love him, and people from all over come to him for tattoos. Greyson recently reached out to his younger siblings, in hopes that they could connect again. They were all so close growing up, and it hurt that he couldn’t imagine what they were all like now as grown ups. He’s also kept in contact with his older siblings as well. Grey, although he lives in the small town of Crownsville, spends his time in and out of LA frequently as well.

[rebelminxy]

You and Me

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 872

A/N: Was listening to my playlist of songs from back when I was younger and Check Yes, Juliet came on. Listening to this song gives me the feels when I remember my first love who was older than me by five years so had to write this Dean inspired story. Plus, Dean would be caught dead listening to We the Kings but we all know that for someone he loves, he can make the small sacrifice 😊 So while reading this, maybe play “Check Yes, Juliet” by We the King. Might help with the feels.

MASTERLIST

               Dean couldn’t help but think to himself how this music was not rock. Led Zeppelin was rock, Motley Crue and Foreigner was rock. We the Kings, not rock, couldn’t even be classified as rock. But at least he wasn’t at this concert alone. He looked in front of him at the girl that was jumping and dancing along with the song, singing at the top of her lungs with “Check Yes, Juliet”, causing him to smile as he watched her all excited.

              It was her 26ths birthday, and Dean saved for an entire year for this weekend. He brought her out to Las Vegas for her birthday, taking her via first class plane ride and getting the best hotel room at the Bellagio. The concert was a recent add on to the list of fun. Dean knew how much she loved the band ever since her teen years, and since it was a one night only concert, he felt he could handle their music at least for the night. And it was worth it, especially seeing how happy she was since he told her about his planned trip for them. But while listening to the song they were currently playing, he couldn’t help but feel as if it was somewhat about them.

              Dean and Sam grew up next door to her, becoming great friends as kids. But as they grew older, things began to change. Sam adored her as a little sister, always being the protective older brother, she never had since she was an only child. But Dean couldn’t help noticing how beautiful she grew up to be, ignoring his heart most of the time because of the nine-year age difference. But she was his rock, the one that could help control his temper, was there whenever he needed someone to talk to. When he dropped out of high school and decided to become a mechanic, she stood by his side, holding his hand as he faced his parents. She motivated him to get his GED while working. She was his everything in the end. And when she graduated from high school, Dean finally got the balls to confess his feeling. Lucky him she felt the same way, making them both happy and becoming a couple. Dean’s family was happy with his girlfriend, especially because they knew her. But her parents weren’t so ecstatic about their daughter’s choice for a boyfriend.

              Her parents tried convincing her to break up with Dean, to get herself a college educated guy that could provide more than what Dean earned, but she never gave in, repeating to them how much she loved Dean. Eventually, they sent her to an out of state university, making an agreement with them. If she finished school, get her degree and Dean could make something for himself, then maybe they will give the pair a chance. And that gave Dean all the motivation to do better. He started saving up to open his own shop a few years later. During their time apart, they would call constantly, and Dean would travel during their free time to visit her at school. During one of his stays with her, he found out that she had never been with a guy. That took Dean by surprise, especially when she admitted she wanted her first with him. Dean made sure their first night together was special and memorable, knowing how damn lucky he was to have her. They did their best to stay strong in their relationship and, in the end, it paid off. She graduated from university and Dean finally had his shop open for business, and business was great.

              Once she was back home, her parents couldn’t argue with the couple. They did as promised and were finally free to be together without anyone trying to stop them. Dean eventually asked her to move in with him. He bought a house so they could live together and closer to his family and now, after one year of living together, here they were in Vegas celebrating her birthday.

              Dean looked back at her as she turned around to look up at him, her smile so wide he imagined her face must hurt from joy. Dean couldn’t help himself by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss as the song ended. He felt her smile into the kiss as she deepened it by opening her mouth to his, letting his tongue invade her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lowered his to her waist, pulling her as close as humanly possible. She tasted of wine and sweet chocolate from the ice cream she had before the concert. She moaned into him, making him moan as he swirled his tongue around hers. They kissed until breathing became a very important thing. As they pulled apart, Dean looked at her knowing she could see the pure love in his eyes for her. She was his everything, and nothing, no one would ever change that. They had come this far, and it was all worth it in the end.

              He just hoped after everything, she will say yes later to the ring waiting back at their hotel room.

[writerchic16]

Raven’s Home, “Leave It to Nia” Chapter 4

Summary: Someone has a psychic cold, and it’s not Booker or Raven. Of course it happens at the worst possible time - while Raven and Chelsea are in the middle of the biggest fight they’ve ever had.

Full Story Here

She didn't expect much from this talk. Honestly, she was just as mystified as the kids when it came to her and Raven's animosity. Raven always had a lot of energy, with a non-existent filter, so Chelsea developed a thick skin over the years. Recently though...the comments became bitter, mean-spirited, which was so not Raven. Deep down Chelsea was more concerned than angry. But since Raven insulted her on a daily basis lately, she felt less inclined to reach out.

The kids gave her an excuse to start the conversation. Maybe if Chelsea got Raven to open up about what was bothering her, they could resolve their issues...because Chelsea had no idea what their issues were. Sure, Raven was the breadwinner, but Chelsea always contributed enough savings to at least cover half the rent. A minimum-wage job would barely replace the amount she already paid, so why waste the energy? Why shouldn't she take the extra time to plan her and Levi's future? She thought Raven understood her need to recuperate after her nightmarish divorce.

Raven's problem went much deeper than Chelsea's current state of unemployment. Chelsea was determined to figure it out, especially after talking with Nia. (Funny, usually parents helped their kids through a crisis, not the other way around). Moving out on a sour note could ruin a twenty-year friendship. While Chelsea still might decide to leave, she needed to make things right first.

As soon as Raven shut the door behind them, Chelsea said, "Rae, the kids know that Levi and I might move out. Our fighting really upset them. It upset me too."

"Yeah, same here," Raven confessed. She wandered around the rooftop as she spoke, not quite meeting Chelsea's eye. "Booker didn't need a ride to school. He wanted to talk to me about...everything. It made me realize how much the kids would be affected if our home life changed again so soon after the divorce." She hugged her arms around herself and stared down at the floor. "I don't really want you to leave. It just popped into my head. Sometimes I blurt stuff out, and I don't have time to think if it's a good idea or not."

"So you're...taking it back?" Chelsea asked because she honestly wasn't sure. Raven had a way of apologizing without actually apologizing.

Though she still crossed her arms, Raven finally made eye contact. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Chels. Our fight got way out of hand."

"Yeah, it did, and I'm sorry too. But I don't understand why it did," Chelsea confessed. "Rae, it's not just the kids who are worried about you. I am too, and I didn't mean it as an insult yesterday when I said you were 'miserable.' Okay, yeah, maybe I should've used a nicer word, but you've...you've lost something. You don't enjoy anything anymore and you won't go after your dream, even though you've had ten thousand dollars sitting in the bank for months."

Raven let out a deep breath. "It's true. I haven't been happy, and I took it out on you because I wanted you to be miserable with me. I get that you're struggling too, but I always saw you doing things and going places...like Vegas...so it just made me..."

"Jealous?"

"Yeah, a little bit," Raven answered. "You don't know what you're doing either, but you don't let it bother you. I wanted it to bother you."

Chelsea's eyes widened. How did Raven, her best friend, not notice her inner turmoil? They lived together and saw each other every day. Raven should have seen through Chelsea's fake smiles and forced optimism. "You really think it doesn't bother me?" she asked, incredulous. "Rae, it's killing me. Maybe I was selfish for not taking the first minimum-wage job I could find. But I couldn't go from where I was, to a crappy job that would barely cover the bills. I've been holding out for a job I could turn into a second career. So, maybe I should have communicated that better, and I should have told you that the trip to Vegas was for business. But you always snapped at me when I brought it up so..."

"Wait, wait...I'm supposed to believe that you went to Vegas on business? What, you want to resurrect your dance career and become a showgirl?"

Unable to help it, Chelsea rolled her eyes. "See? You didn't even let me finish my sentence, or hear anything else I said." Raven closed her mouth and, with an over-dramatic flourish, indicated for Chelsea to continue. "Thank you," Chelsea retorted. "I went to Vegas for a trade show. I've gone before, remember? When I invented the Shmop, and then for other products I added to the line. I went again this year because I wanted some inspiration. I thought maybe if I was in that atmosphere, a light bulb would go off and I'd come up with the next...light bulb. Needless to say it did not happen."

Raven stayed quiet for a minute, sympathy in her expression. "And here I was, feeling jealous that you once had a Shmop empire. When I was driving around today, I kept wishing I had your...well, your vision. Your ability to see the big picture and know what will work in the long run. I'm too scared to move forward, because I can't see the second step after the first one. What if everything I try, fails? What if I have to accept that I've failed before I've even begun?" She paused, holding back tears and staring at the floor again. "Chels, I'm so scared. All the time. I'm miserable because I'm scared of not being good enough."

Chelsea's reply was to wrap her best friend in a tight hug. They sat on a bench, both crying silently and leaning on each other. "I think we needed this," Chelsea said, trying to make it a joke. "We needed a good cry. Life sucks."

"Yeah, but you know what? Hearing you admit it makes me feel a little better."

[matildaknutson-blog]

Teens Who have actually Made An Effort Cannabis Have Utilized It In Much More Than One Form.

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[fanfictionlive]

Practicing Medicine: How Writing a Procedural Drama Changed my Life

When I was 15, or maybe early 16, I had a terrible idea: what if I wrote a Fallout New Vegas story about one of those random caravan guys I always like to follow on the road, only it was about a pacifist doctor having moral struggles? Real original I know, but stay with me here. Because, after some initial outlining and groundwork, things started to get interesting.

You see, I went to this cool little downtown arts highschool, and I was creative writing major. We’d just gotten this new teacher recently who firmly believed that good research was the key to good fiction, and we were doing a segment on practical research- you know, going out and doing stuff? It took me a second to get on board with it, but once I did, whoa boy, I was like a fucking cult fanatic. This method was the superior method- the only method! As far as I was concerned anyways. Suddenly all my stories were gritty character dramas with some pretentious form of research done that was just above and beyond. It was all very extra.

Still, the idea was sound, and for this Fallout story I was writing, I was really committed fully to the “Road trip/Paramedic Procedural” theme, for… some reason. Problem was, while I knew plenty about guns, Fallout and cross country hiking, I didn’t know jack shit about medicine. So how did I solve this easily solvable issue?

Why, I did what any hot blooded teenage male would do- I hopped in my car and started knocking on fire department doors until one of them took me on for an ambulance ride along! It was supposed to be a one time thing, just to get that practical experience, so I could say I’d done it, and yet…

Fast forward about 3 weeks and ten fire stations, and finally someone agrees to take me on as a “cadet”- basically a shadow who helps out sometimes, and as they stay longer, gets to do more. I become addicted to this arrangement. All the while, I convince myself that it’s all for the story, that I’m doing this to make “Practicing Medicine” into the most well researched fucking new Vegas story that there ever was. I rack up hundreds of hours of time at the station, eventually abandoning my job to play hero with the big boys.

Finally, senior year arrives. By now I’ve fully admitted that It isn’t about the damn story anymore. My grades are suffering. I’ve enrolled in EMT school, which, in an ironic twist, I manage to pass purely because I’d been studying NREMT questions to make the medicine in the story more accurate. I see some pretty crazy shit during that time, clinicals are awesome in terms of research/inspiration potential!

Anyways, after that I middle-finger my way through the rest of high school and get a job as an EMT, I finish the story, polish it for like, a year-ish using all those sweet sweet stories and bits of knowledge I’ve gleaned from the job, Publish it, aaaaannndddd it goes pretty much under the radar for such a long story lol. Most of the reviews ended up being from one very nice person, and it otherwise got about the same engagement as your average one-shot

I would say that it’s a disappointing end to such a crazy story, but when I think about it in terms of the effect it had on me, I can’t help but reconsider. This story made me who I am- I’ve saved lives because of this story. I’ve seen a lot of death, too. I’ve gotten to meet a lot of interesting people, and maybe even help one or two of them. I’m in school to be a Paramedic now because of this story, because it helped me explore a passion that I wasn’t quite sure about. And by god was it the best decision of my life

Tl;Dr: Practical research is beautiful. Sometimes you just gotta Fuck Around and Find Out. Something magical might happen ;)

submitted by /u/CaptainQuadmay [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans https://ift.tt/3w47ULM

[liliannorman]

Desert trails and microbial life excite this soil scientist

Lydia Jennings has had many interests throughout her life. As a child, she trained as a dancer. But her brother insisted she’d be speedy if she ran like her siblings. So in high school, she traded her ballet slippers for running shoes. Running soon became a huge part of her life. Then an injury prompted an identity crisis. Jennings was forced to think about who she was outside of running. A growing interest in science helped answer those questions. 

At the time, Jennings didn’t think about becoming a scientist. She didn’t learn about careers in research until college. No one in her family did science as people usually think of it. But Jennings — a member of two indigenous tribes (the Pascua Yaqui Tribe and the Huichol of Mexico) — now realizes that many in her family had scientific knowledge. They picked it up though gardening, their Indigenous culture and the healing practices handed down through the generations.

Jennings realized that she could do research that would benefit her community. That led her to soil science. She now studies how bacteria and plants bounce back after their soil environment has been disturbed by mining. In this interview, Jennings shares her experiences and advice with Science News for Students. (This interview has been edited for content and readability.)

What inspired you to pursue your career?

Well, I’ve always loved being outside. So that’s a really big part — just being outside and getting to know the earth around me. Running has also inspired me. I love to run. In high school in New Mexico, I was starting to see all these patterns outside. I noticed where plants grew, and how the soil in the shadowy areas of the mountain differs from soil in the more sun-exposed areas. In science classes, I then learned the language to describe what I saw out there running. 

In graduate school, I would be on the trails and I’d get to experience with my feet what I was studying. Once I was running in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona after a huge rain event. The normally dry soil was saturated with water. I noticed that there was water on the soil surface. That’s rare because we have such sandy soil. And I thought about the soil properties and equations to calculate how much water the soil can hold. I also thought about the pressure that my foot applies to the soil, which was making the water come to the surface.

Lydia Jennings collects soil samples at a reclaimed mine in Southern Arizona as part of her research. Julia Nielson

My classmates during college at California State University in Monterey Bay played a big part in my career, too. I got to really know them. My biology classes would go on camping trips. Everyone was as excited about science as I was. I loved that. It was such a great place to be nerdy. In some of my high school classes, it wasn’t cool to be nerdy. But in my first year of college, it was just so fun to be outside together pointing out plants, bugs and animals to each other.

How did you get where you are today?

It’s kind of been a meandering path. I took science classes in high school. But the idea of a job doing research wasn’t something I knew about. I got into research because of a professor that I had at Cabrillo College, a community college in Santa Cruz, Calif. He pointed out that I was good at science and noticed how excited I’d get about it. So I did a research internship with him and he was an important mentor for me. I remember how proud he was when he learned I was accepted into graduate school.

Explainer: What is a mentor?

After that, I studied environmental science, technology and policy at California State University. It’s was such a stunning environment. You have both the redwood forest, with trees older than any human alive, and the incredible ocean. Living there, I thought I wanted to be a marine biologist. But I considered that I’m from the desert and marine biology wouldn’t help me serve my home community. 

So I took a couple of years off and worked at a field station in Big Sur in California. I studied water pollution. During that time, I was able to think about how I could use my science skillsets to serve the places I’m from. I thought about their environmental issues, including those caused by mining. So many indigenous communities and places in the Southwest are impacted by mining. Mining can disturb soil ecosystems that take thousands of years to form. And digging things up can create air pollution. 

Right now, I’m in the process of talking with tribal leadership about what environmental programs we might want to look into. We’re thinking about environmental health or education programs for our community. So, finally, my intellectual and cultural and moral interests have found a place to come together. 

How do you get your best ideas?

A lot of times, it happens when I’m out on a run. I’m a trail runner. Trail running is when, instead of running on roads and pavement, you’re running on dirt trails or mountain trails. Trail running sometimes is a mix of hiking and running. That’s when I feel most at peace. I’m able to do some thinking then, too. 

Once I was on a run and was thinking about what wasn’t working in my experiments. I came to this realization that, oh, it’s because I’m not using these specific pipette tips. It’s a small thing. But when you’re working with tiny amounts of DNA, that makes a world of difference. 

Also, having conversations with friends and family members who can help me see my blind spots is really helpful.

What’s one of your biggest successes?

Winning certain awards is really valuable. So it was really nice getting the National Science Foundation’s Graduate Research Fellowship (a prestigious award for graduate students), and being selected for the American Geophysical Society Voices for Science (a program that trains scientists to be better communicators). 

It’s also really valuable to have the people in my life recognize that I’m not only a scientist, but I’m also a good friend and community member. Those are really important successes to me as well. That’s because being in science can be hard. You’re constantly doing a balancing act. You want to get work done and be productive but also build friendships, take time to relax and enjoy life. 

What’s one of your biggest failures, and how did you get past that? 

One of the biggest failures was when some experiments were not working like I’d hoped. I was quantifying the amount of DNA from microbes in soil samples. I’d done this for bacteria. I was now going to use a new method for fungi. At that point, no one in my research group or even in the recent past had worked on fungi. So I had to go through old lab notes to figure out the protocol. 

I spent six months on it, and I was getting results that I couldn’t reproduce. My advisor and I had to have a really tough discussion about whether it was worth working on this for six more months. We decided to replace it with different experiments. 

That was really hard for me because I felt like I was failing. But the other method I used provided really compelling results. It told a different story. In hindsight, I don’t feel like this was a failure, but I had to get creative to find an alternative. 

I think that when you have failures, they provide some of the biggest lessons. Now I feel like I know that protocol inside and out. 

Jennings loves to play with her puppy Salchicha. Gaberial Vega

What do you do in your spare time?

I like to trail run and just be outside. I also like to camp and rock climb. Any of those fun outdoor activities — that’s what really makes me happy. I also like to cook. And I like to play with my puppy Salchicha. She’s a blue heeler. That’s a little cattle dog. She’ll be a good runner when she gets older. 

What piece of advice do you wish you had been given when you were younger?

I wish I had been told that it’s OK to try a variety of things to find out what you’re really passionate about. I think, especially in science, that we have this tendency to think that you have to do very specific steps to be successful. But it’s really important that students experience many different things. You might never know what you’re in love with or really passionate about unless you try it. 

When I was an undergrad, I was working two, sometimes three, jobs. I didn’t have time to think about what makes me happy or about my long-term goals. After college, there was so much pressure to go right to grad school. But I didn’t. I took a couple years off to really think about what I wanted to do. I did field work and laboratory work. And I developed a range of skillsets. I’m really thankful for that whole experience. Because it helped develop me as professional.

This Q&A is part of a series exploring the many paths to a career in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). It has been made possible with generous support from Arconic Foundation.

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